Chapter 11 #2
Lead settled in my stomach. He knew more than he was letting on. I wanted to march across the bridge, grab him by the collar, and make him tell me what he knew. Or suspected. But there were too many witnesses.
I mentally touched our connecting thread and sent an I-have-questions-you-better-answer feeling across it.
His lips tipped up and I felt amusement through the thread before Daphne asked him something, and he turned away to talk to her.
Our next session was tonight. We’d agreed before I left last night. He wouldn’t be able to escape me then.
“Maeve?” Bea touched my shoulder. “Do you feel better?”
“Yes. It’s just a regular headache now.” The lie slipped easily from my lips.
“You should rest.”
My eyes found Death, crouched next to the man whose legs had been crushed. She held her hands over his lower half, encasing his injuries in light. Something twitched in my chest, but that was the only response. My hands stayed dark as she healed him.
“Thank you,” he gasped, sitting up. He grabbed her hand and bowed over it. “Thank you, my goddess.”
“I take care of what’s mine,” she said, a beatific smile on her face. She patted his hand, and then extricated herself, standing. “Talia. Maeve. Come with me.”
I stood on only slightly wobbly legs to follow.
“My goddess,” Bea said. “Maeve needs—”
I grabbed her hand. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I feel much better.”
Death’s gaze was sharp, and I tried to relax, to hide my panic.
“Are you sure?” Bea asked, her brow creased with worry.
“Yes. Thank you.” Her concern was sweet, but I didn’t want Death to know about my headache. I already felt her watching me with that piercing gaze of hers that I worried could see straight through me.
“Come.” Death said.
“Yes, my goddess.” I fell into step behind Talia and followed them away from the bridge.
* * *
The trek back to Death’s rooms was silent and slow.
I tried not to fidget at Death’s plodding pace.
She took the long route through the busiest hallways, as if she wanted to be seen.
Word of what had happened followed us, people whispering and looking at Death in awe as we passed.
She smiled, a benevolent goddess basking in the adoration of her people.
When we finally arrived, I curtsied and made for the pantry, desperate to be alone.
“Maeve, stay,” Death said.
I turned, trying to keep my face neutral. Death was going to ask me about what had happened. I braced myself for her interrogation, but she turned to Talia instead.
“Are you alright?” Talia asked, stepping in close.
“Of course.” Death reached for Talia’s hand.
“This is all his fault.” Talia shook her head. The impassive mask she wore in public had dropped. Fury radiated from her. “He doesn’t even try to stop it.”
I bit my lip. She was talking about the Devil. He was a common scapegoat for her and Death, but she made it sound like what just happened had happened before.
“He helped fix the bridge,” Death said.
Was she defending him?
“At what cost to you?” Tears lined Talia’s eyes.
My brow furrowed for a moment in confusion, before I wiped it clean.
Death stroked Talia’s cheek. “I’m fine. Truly.”
Talia shuffled forward and Death wrapped her arms around her.
I shrank back, trying to blend into the wall. I’d witnessed small displays of affection between them before, but this felt like I was intruding on a private moment.
“I hate him,” Talia said, her face buried in Death’s neck.
“I know.” Death rubbed a soothing circle on Talia’s back and then released her. “We have work to do.”
Talia nodded, swiping at her eyes. “I have a meeting with the senior Judges. I’ll see you later.”
Death’s smile was tender as she leaned forward and kissed Talia gently on the lips.
Talia left without even a glance in my direction. I wondered if she’d forgotten I was there.
“Maeve.” I started at Death’s voice. “Give me your hand.” She wasn’t looking at me; she still faced the door that Talia had walked through, but there was nothing but command in her voice.
I hesitated. Death had never asked me to touch her before. My scalp prickled as I stepped forward and reached out.
She seized my hand in an iron grip, pulled me to her, and collapsed against me.
I stumbled as I absorbed her weight, managing to keep us both upright.
My eyes went wide as I looked down at the woman in my arms. This was the cost Talia had referred to. The effort in restoring the bridge had felled a goddess. I expected the room to start shaking and come apart at the seams, but it was quiet aside from the ticking of a clock.
We stood there for several moments, waiting for her to make a noise or move. I felt her breathing, but she said nothing. If not for her still-firm grip on my hand, I would have thought her unconscious. “My goddess?”
She stirred at my voice, rousing enough to struggle back to her feet, though she wasn’t steady enough to let go of my hand. “Help me to my workshop. I need a cup of tea.”
I never thought I’d be so relieved to hear Death give me an order.
She leaned on me as we made our way through her sitting and dining rooms to a room I’d never been permitted to enter.