Chapter 36
The ground was warm under my feet as I paced in front of one of the hot spring’s pools. The scene I’d just witnessed between Talia and Death played over and over in my head.
Death said she’d been preparing, and I was sure that was why she’d been draining people.
She needed power to defeat me. Even now she knew I was missing, she assumed I was still her Successor, and a threat.
People were still being hurt because of me.
Pain followed me everywhere. No matter what I did or where I went, I couldn’t escape it.
Not in the World of the Living, not in the In Between as a human, and not as a salamander.
Before, when I had been Death’s Successor, I’d at least had the prospect of challenging her, the possibility of taking her place and stabilizing the realm. As distant as that likelihood had been, it was something. In my current form, I was powerless to do anything.
All I’d wanted was to run away, to hide from the burden of being me, but I couldn’t. It felt like a cruel joke, but then my entire life had felt like one. I must have done something truly heinous in a previous life to deserve my current one.
“What’s got you so riled up?” Sasha’s voice startled me. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t heard her come in.
I hadn’t told her about the missing Judges, as if I could avoid it by not talking about it, but the desire to unburden myself bubbled hot in my chest. It wasn’t that I thought I deserved relief.
I didn’t. It was the need to accept responsibility that loosened my tongue.
I told her about what I’d learned from Bea, and the conversation between Death and Talia.
“I shirked being Death’s Successor because I wanted to run away, and now things are getting worse and I can’t do anything about it.” If I were in my human form, I’d have thrown up my hands.
Sasha made a soft chirping sound that I realized was her clearing her throat. “I know you think you’re no longer Death’s Successor, but it doesn’t work like that. You can’t just decide to give it up. You’d have to lose your integrity as a soul. Trust me. I know from experience.”
“But I can’t access any power. Or my…” I couldn’t say the words Death Chord, even in my head.
“That doesn’t mean they’re not still there. I can taste them on you. They’re just dormant.”
My breath stalled in my lungs as hope and fear warred with each other. If they weren’t gone, I could do something to help, but then what had I been doing for the last week or more? “What have I done?”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to escape, and instead all I did was delay the inevitable. Death drained three souls while I’ve been here wallowing.” I squeezed my eyes shut as if that would make the truth go away.
“She would have done that regardless of whether you turned yourself into a salamander or not. She needs power for when you challenge her.”
“I’m still the reason souls are being drained.”
“No, you aren’t.” Sasha’s voice was firm. “Death is draining souls because she made a decision to stay when she was meant to move on. That’s not on you.”
I didn’t want her to be right, but her reasoning was sound. “Fine. It doesn’t matter anyway. If my powers are dormant, I can’t transform back.” I huffed, or tried to. It came out as a chirp.
“Do you want to transform back?” Sasha sounded surprised.
“It’s not about what I want. If I’m still Death’s Successor, the In Between needs me to challenge her. I shouldn’t avoid my duties any longer.”
Sasha was quiet for a minute, long enough for me to start fidgeting. I couldn’t tell whether or not she agreed with what I’d said.
“Well, then,” she said finally. “I guess you should try.”
My mouth dropped open, my tongue flicking out. “Here? Now?” I looked around at the space. There was no way out aside from the fire.
“We’re in a Dungeon cell. If you need a door, one will appear. It’s the perfect place for you to transform.”
I swallowed. She was right, but I had no idea how.
“Close your eyes,” she said, sensing my distress. “And concentrate on the place where you usually draw power from.”
I did as she said, my eyelids sliding shut. When I drew power, it always seemed to come from a spot in the center of my chest. I remembered the way it spilled out the first time, how in the beginning I was so desperate to stop it. All that was there now was a void. “There’s nothing there.”
“What about your connection with Fen. Can you sense that at all?”
Something pulled in my chest, trying to flicker to life, but it was immediately doused by pain. I’d been purposely avoiding thinking about him, because every time I did the sting was unbearable. “I can’t. I—I don’t want to.”
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
I couldn’t cry in this form, but my head drooped. “Did you know about his addiction to pain?”
“Yes. I’ve seen him feed.” There was no judgment in her voice which made my head whip up.
“How can you be so calm about it?”
“It’s not always a bad thing. If he doesn’t take too much or do it maliciously it can help souls heal.”
I hadn’t thought about it that way. “But he does hurt souls with it.”
“Addiction isn’t straightforward. In the World of the Living, I had a brother who was addicted to alcohol. He did some terrible things as a result, but he wasn’t a bad person at heart. He was just ill. It tortured him as much as it did everyone else.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d felt what Fen had while he was feeding on Colt, and I’d been in his head in the memory with Talia.
All I’d been able to concentrate on was his feeling of euphoria at someone else’s pain, but that hadn’t been the only emotion in play.
Besides, Death fed on souls, too, but when she did there was no intent of helping them. She used them, plain and simple.
“You didn’t answer my question before,” Sasha said. “Do you want to go back?”
“I did answer. It’s not a matter of want. If I don’t go back, the In Between keeps straining, Death continues to feed on souls, and my friend, Titus...” I had no idea what had happened to him after I left. If he was still alive, the only way I could potentially heal him was if I became Death.
“Those are all reasons you need to go back for other people. Maybe the reason you can’t transform back is because you don’t have a reason to go back for you.”
She was right. If I went back, it would be for other people.
For the realm. Because it was my fate. I was willing to because I was needed, not because I wanted to be Death.
I didn’t. Taking responsibility for all the souls that passed through, and the souls who’d come to the In Between to serve, wasn’t something I was convinced I could do, despite what Fen thought.
A throbbing ache spread through my entire body as I thought about him, and not the pleasant kind.
He was what I’d wanted. A partner in life and love.
Being Death felt doable if I was doing it with him, but he’d shattered that desire when he kept his addiction and so much of his power from me.
I still didn’t understand that part, why he would sabotage my chances of defeating Death. How could I ever trust him after this?
“I don’t want to be Death.”
“I know. I didn’t want to be either.” The understanding in her voice loosened words I’d been holding so close I hadn’t known they were there.
“A friend once told me I didn’t trust myself, and she was right.” The thought of Bea made me both want to smile and cry. “I don’t trust myself to be what people need.”
“Why?”
“Because I keep making the same mistake over and over, choosing to trust people who don’t deserve it.” First Colt, then Fen.
“Is it that you don’t trust your own judgment when it comes to other people? Or is it that you don’t trust yourself to handle it when things get tough?”
The rock we stood on suddenly felt too hot. I wanted to tell her it wasn’t true, but I couldn’t. Hearing it like that made me question everything. Was that really what I was afraid of?
Colt’s betrayal had been compounded by the death of my family, and I’d spent years blaming myself for my stupidity in not realizing he was using me, and for transferring his death to them.
It was in some ways easier than facing my reality—not only living without them but being committed to the Order of Death as a punishment.
Rather than find purpose in my new life or heal so I could move on, I chose to flog myself by reliving their death over and over.
It was a routine that felt safe in a way.
Predictable. I knew the feelings I would face every time.
And here I was, refusing to face what had happened.
Running away. Again. It was easier to see Fen as a villain than to give him a chance to explain, because what if he was able to?
I didn’t know if I could handle his addiction or be the partner he needed.
I was afraid I couldn’t, and what kind of person would that make me?
“What if I can’t handle it?”
“I think you underestimate yourself, but you won’t know unless you try.” She moved towards the water, nudging me gently as she passed. Then she slipped in for a swim.
The spot at the center of my chest where my connection to Fen lived was still empty. If Sasha was right, it would stay empty until I found a reason to go back for me. I had no idea what that might be, but I did know one thing.
I needed to see Fen.
* * *
He was right where Sasha said he’d be, sitting at Titus’s bedside in the infirmary, with his head in his hands.
Titus had been given a private room containing a narrow bed and three chairs. He lay beneath the sheets looking much like I’d last seen him, still and pale with dark splotches on his skin that looked like burns, but he was still here. Still alive.
Fen looked up and my whole body jolted. He looked terrible, with dark circles under his eyes and his beard scruffier than usual, but it was the defeated slump in his posture that gave me the most alarm. I’d never seen him look so miserable.
Part of me wanted to crawl into his lap and offer whatever comfort I could, but the other part of me was afraid of him. Now that his secret was out, he had nothing to lose. Desperate people were capable of desperate actions. My throat throbbed in memory of where he’d grabbed me.
I flinched back into the flames as the door opened.
“Any change?” Daphne took a seat on the opposite side of the bed, stroking Titus’s hand.
“No.” Fen’s voice was full of gravel. “The healers say he isn’t getting any better, but he also isn’t getting worse.”
“That’s good. If he doesn’t get any worse there’s still hope.”
“She’s not coming back,” Fen snapped.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. And you need to face that.” It sounded like a well-worn argument.
“How long are you going to punish yourself, Fen?”
He shook his head, dropping it to his chest.
“It’s a real question.” Daphne glared at him.
“As long as I want. I can’t believe you can stand to be in the same room as me.”
“We’ve been over this. You were an idiot for not telling us, but we understand why you didn’t. Now that we know, we can help you.” She held up a finger when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say you don’t need it, because we all know you do.”
“It’s my burden to bear.” He sounded sullen.
“If it were one of us suffering, would you think that?”
He pressed his lips together.
“That’s what I thought.” She leaned forward and kissed Titus’s forehead gently. “I can’t stay, but Marcus will be here in a little bit to relieve you.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to be.”
“You have a castle to run. At the very least you need to shower and eat something. Get some sleep.”
“I’ll be fine.” He waved her suggestions away.
“No, you won’t. I’ll be back later to make sure you don’t sit here all night.” She stopped at the door and looked back. “I know you think you don’t deserve Maeve coming back, but you do. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe me.” The door snicked softly as it shut.
“But they never do,” Fen said, the words soft.
My throat tightened as his eyes grew glassy, both at the resignation in his voice and because I realized Talia had left shortly after she found out.
They’d been friends, and instead of letting him explain or giving him any grace she’d turned her back on him.
Threatened to tell the others. He’d never told me what had happened to his wife, but his words made me wonder if she’d left him too. And I’d done the same thing.
“Maeve, please.” I startled at the sound of my name on his lips.
He wasn’t looking at me. He stared straight ahead, a faraway look in his eyes.
“Please, come back. I’m so sorry for everything.
For not telling you.” He squeezed his eyes shut and tears spilled down his cheeks.
“If you come back, I promise I’ll tell you everything. I just—”
My chest ached as his shoulders shook.
“Give me a chance to make things right. I don’t know if I can, but I will try with everything I have.
Please. I want to be better, I just don’t know how.
” The words flowed off his tongue as if he’d said them before, and when he bowed his head over his hands like he was praying, I was hit with two realizations.
We were both convinced we were irreparably broken, which was ridiculous because broken things could be fixed.
If there was one thing our existence proved, it was that nothing was beyond repair.
There were always more chances, another life to live, another lesson to learn.
It was hard to see when all you knew was your current life, but it was impossible to come to the In Between and not see the larger picture.
And I wanted to try. I didn’t know if I could forgive him, or if I could handle whatever came next, but I didn’t want to give up. I was tired of underestimating myself, of thinking I had to atone for being me. I wanted to fight for a partnership with Fen. A shared life with purpose.
My connection with Fen flared to life in my chest with a hum. Those three notes, our chord, vibrating together in perfect harmony, filled my entire being, and I could see our Death Chord strung between us in gold and black.
Fen’s head snapped up, his hand flying to his chest as if he felt it too. “Maeve?” It was a whisper filled with hope.
Mentally grabbing the Chord with two hands, I channeled all my strength and pulled.