Undead Gods

Chapter 33

Elysia and Maya emerged from the woods into the night only to come upon the mouth of a great body of silver water, mirror-like in its sheen with an old stone bridge for safe travel. They stopped at the bridge’s highest point, and Elysia found herself staring down into a cityscape covered in mist. Gulls cried and Elysia could hear the wordless chaos of a marketplace. There was even the familiar scent of salt and fish in the air. She frowned and spun around to look at Maya, her body tensing in confusion.

“Why does it look like Relaclave?”

Maya’s brows rose as she looked at Elysia consideringly. “We are passing over the waters of the unlived life. We house so much more than the dead here.”

Elysia examined the people below her a little closer and felt her stomach drop at what she saw on the shining surface of the water.

Her sister. Hand in hand with the Doorman, looking lighter than she’d ever seen her. Pulling her girlfriend through the crowds. Movement to their right caught Elysia’s eye and a soft cry fell from her lips. Daphne examined a bolt of fabric that she showed to a sandy-haired man who had the look of someone who works with his hands. Her smile was enormous, his gaze on her soft and crinkled. Standing in front of rows and rows of attentive women who sat behind desks was Remy. The women waited, writing utensils in hand, poised and ready to begin. Muddy with axes strapped to his chest was the prince. Strolling through the forest, his shoulders were relaxed and a bottle of wine hung from his fingertips. Lina hopped along beside him and the grin on his face belonged to the boy she once knew.

Her eyes began to sting. “Unlived lives? They aren’t dead?” Fear constricted her insides. They couldn’t possibly all be dead, and yet their ghosts swirled on around her.

“People are always dying, Elysia.” At Elysia’s panicked expression, she took pity. “Life is constant death and rebirth. Some consider it practice for the real thing, you know. But everyone, no matter how well they live, has lives unlived. And here is where it all goes.”

She looked at Elysia intently. “Even the dead can get stuck here. It’s best not to dwell on what never was.” With that Maya walked on, never looking down into the waters once, her eyes set only on the path before her.

The waters swirled, then settled into a silver mirror once more. A red mist rolled in, heavy and thick, hurrying the women to the opposite shore. Past the waters, they walked for what felt like hours. The night stretched on and Elysia’s strength grew thin. She was tired, hungry, and worried about how long she had been here in this realm.

The topography finally shifted, kindling hope within her chest. Long grasses and hills replaced the bonewood trees and barren landscapes. Even in the dark, she could see foreign blooms hiding amongst all the green. The dirt path they walked on now looked well traveled and when they made it to the top of a hill, she could see a large estate nestled in the valley .

Smoke curled up and away from numerous chimneys and a few windows still glowed with golden light in spite of the hour. All three dogs charged down the hill, running faster than it seemed their legs should be able to carry them.

Elysia looked at Maya as reality sank in—a god lived inside the home below.

“Any pointers for meeting him?”

Her guide shook her head. “I don’t meddle with his deals. I value my neck too much.”

She nodded, trying to mute the building anxiety of what was to come, when a question occurred to her. “Will I be able to use my magic on him? Would that be rude?”

Maya responded under her breath as the estate grew closer. “Please, for the love of the dead, try.”

Elysia frowned. She couldn’t tell if her words had been sarcastic or some sort of black-humored plea.

They were almost to the front door now. Gorgeous rusty brown bricks surrounded a green door that was so dark it was almost black. In the center of the door was a skull knocker with dice threaded onto the loop in its mouth. Through that door was the undead god who could solve their problems. Thief and deviant, she would steal Kava’s magic back from him.

Whatever the cost, she was determined to make him yield.

Flickering sconces of flame lit either side of the door. Her eyes remained glued to the flames as her stomach flipped like a trapeze artist. One hand fluttered to her throat, rubbing at her skin. Was she supposed to address a god as you did a king? Did he have a name? What was the protocol, the expectations for a situation like this? Her nerves climbed higher, a flush starting to rise from her chest. She hated being ill prepared, and she was now realizing she didn't even know how to properly greet the person she was aiming to do business with today.

Gage had been right. She was in over her head and likely about to drown.

But resolve filled her despite the anxiety thrumming through her limbs.

She reminded herself who she was—the daughter of the Crown, the sister of an assassin, and a woman with nothing to lose. She could see through lies and feel the truth. Steal secrets and hide in plain sight. And most importantly, there was no length too far when one was already good as dead.

The door unlocked with a pop and Elysia mentally shook herself free of the doubts threatening to hold her in place. Stepping inside, she cautiously looked around. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. Black and red, perhaps? Dark and creepy with dust coating the furniture?

The dogs ran ahead, leaving the foyer behind, but Elysia moved slowly, studying her opponent’s home. Rich wooden paneling and stone floors. Thick rugs to still the cold trying to rise up from the ground. Candles that danced with too-tall flames and dripped wax down the iron candelabras. A blue-flamed fire that pushed delicious heat out in waves. Lingering in the air was the smell of bergamot and orange, hinting that someone in the house loved a strong cup of black tea.

She was loath to admit it, but his home was relaxing . More than relaxing, it almost felt romantic. As if you would find its owner stretched out on a leather couch with a drink and book in hand and the fire blazing behind them. Tiny dogs and a home that made her want to curl up and nap? She was half convinced they must be in the wrong place.

Eyes roving as if she were going to find a dead body or someone being tortured, she walked farther into the house behind Maya. “He really lives here?”

A man with dark brown skin and black hair worked into smooth, tight waves strode into the room with an apple in hand, lost in his own thoughts. He mumbled a hello to Maya, and then froze with his teeth stuck into the apple. His eyes and brain finally shook hands, alerting him to the fact that there was a stranger in the house.

“Isthather?” The words were garbled and spit around his apple.

Maya made a face of disgust, but her tone was amused. “Yes, and this will be how she recalls meeting you always. With an apple stuck in your mouth like a piglet and spittle running down your chin.”

The man crunched through his apple and glared at her as he chewed. “Don’t piss on me just because he’s going to hang you from the ceiling for what you did.”

Elysia’s eyes grew large. “He would hang you for helping me?” Her question was cautious. What was she getting herself into, and why was every ruler the same? Dead or alive, god or mortal, they just killed anyone who upset them.

Both Maya and the newcomer turned and looked at her carefully, noting her distress. The man tilted his head, his thick brows going together. “Not literally, obviously. Do you really think he would do that?”

Maya slapped a hand over his mouth. “You need to stop talking.” Taking the apple, she shoved it back into his mouth. “Much better. Come on, Elysia, you’re running out of time. Say goodbye to the piglet.”

Grabbing her wrist, Maya dragged her into a hallway, walking until Elysia no longer knew all the turns they had made. Even as they hurried, Elysia’s eyes drank in the endless paintings and small sculptures decorating the halls.

Speaking over her shoulder, Maya gave Elysia a devious look. “Should be right where I left him.”

Throwing open a pair of double doors, they entered a large, beautiful but minimal room. Stale air and a general sense of disuse had her looking around curiously. Elaborate oil lamp chandeliers with black iron flowers and vines hung from the ceilings. On the floors were pewter candelabras almost as tall as herself with half-burned black candles flickering steadily as wax puddled onto the stone floors. Splitting the room in two, a long burgundy rug directed you to the room’s purpose—the plain black dais at the very back.

Elysia had been around enough riches and power to know that the people who demanded gilded chairs and piles of glimmering stones were not the ones to fear most. It was the ones who were silent, unimposing, and felt no need to boast who made her shiver. Because behind their quiet was a certain confidence—a certain security in the depth of their power and reach.

She shivered now. Because upon the dais was a black throne. Simple in construction, the only adornment blackened skulls staring out from the posts of the throne. The chair bore no cushion as if its owner knew a throne wasn’t meant to be a comfortable thing.

And on the throne sat the man she had met at the river, looking absolutely unbearably pissed.

“Maya.” Not even his velvet voice could hide the irritation shooting through her name.

Maya’s face remained guileless. “Yes, my most feared deadliness? Wouldn’t you like to come and greet our guest?”

Even the dead themselves likely felt his displeasure. It crept out like shadows from behind the throne, the air growing cooler as it neared.

Maya picked at her nails, sliding her eyes over to Elysia. “He hates when I call him that.” She glanced back at him and shrugged. “I’d say I’m sorry, but you have your goals and I have mine.”

The god before them appeared vexed, his long face that might as well have been hewn from stone by an artist’s hands stared at the ceiling. His lips moved as he spoke silently to himself.

Elysia looked at Maya. “What is he saying?”

“I think he’s chanting that he can’t kill the dead. Can’t kill the dead. Can’t kill the dead. ” She nodded even as her eyes remained trained on the god upon the throne, who was now releasing a slow controlled breath. “He’s been working on his communication skills. One of the dead here used to be an advisor for some mortal king. Suggested that he use a mantra whenever he feels like losing his shit. Spends half his day reminding himself he can’t kill us now.”

Glaring down at her, the god of the dead responded with tight politeness. “Maya, I am going to need you to undo your magic. Please .” The added please sounded as though it cost him, the word barely fitting through his lips.

Maya’s eyes lit with a very satisfied sort of pleasure. “I knew you overexerted yourself the other day. You’re really stuck, huh?” She turned to Elysia thoughtfully. “Maybe you should present your deal now before he figures out how to move.”

“He can’t move?”

She answered matter-of-factly. “Not from the waist down. I left him with full control of his upper body.”

“You stuck a god to a chair.”

She lifted a shoulder. “And from now on, he won’t let his power get so low. If anything, I deserve a thank you.”

The man stuck to the throne interrupted them. "Maya, if you don’t release me from this throne, then I’ll be forced to assume you aren’t a fit guide for anyone. Roles can be revoked, do you understand?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have that kind of sway.”

“Don’t I?” He stared at her, unblinking and looking a little bit murderous before finally speaking again. “Release me.”

Maya must have believed his threat because she threw her hands up in defeat. “Sorry, new girl.” With a snap of her fingers, he jolted forward, falling onto one knee as if he had been straining to break free.

But Elysia hardly noticed Maya now. Breath caught in her throat, her eyes were held captive by the man crouched at the foot of his own throne. Dark hair falling out of place, royal blue eyes flickered behind the disobedient strands. Long, elegant fingers steepled against the floor, his back rippling as he rose back to his full height.

He towered over them now. His body neither thin nor thick, it reminded her of the men in Relaclave who could cut through the sea as if it were nothing for their bodies to move through such tumultuous waters with ease. Entranced, she watched his fingers redo the button on his jacket, tugging his cuffs back into place.

With a roll of his shoulders, the man moved his neck from side to side. Smoke dissipated in his wake as if his power, while apparently diminished, could not be contained within his body. Elysia swallowed at the sight of him. He was a dark, beautiful god. And she was deeply in over her head.

He was looking at her now. She forced her face to remain even, her eyes on him, but inside her head, she rallied once more for what was to come. She was Elysia fucking Parker, forced into the world’s most boring business meetings since she could walk, and she could cut a deal with anyone. Even the god who reigned over death itself.

He took another moment to compose himself before wordlessly gesturing at Maya to leave.

Maya dipped her chin, her back bending in the smallest of bows before walking leisurely to the double doors. Light spilled in as she held one of the doors wide and all three dogs bound into the room, charging for the god near the throne. The long-haired tri-colored pup reversed course, pawing at Elysia’s legs.

Elysia silently picked the dog up, stroking its small body while watching an undead god act like any other mortal with their pets. The tan short-haired dogs let out pathetic whines until he reached into his pocket, scattering treats for them to hunt.

Fiery blue eyes turned back to her. “She likes you.”

There was a quiet humor to his words.

Elysia continued running her hand over the creature. “You’re a dog person—a small dog person at that. How unexpected.”

He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets and walking down the stairs. “I wouldn’t underestimate them.” There was a wryness to his tone that had her glancing down at the animal in her arms, but it merely licked her nose and stared back at her with sweet brown-black eyes.

He kept talking, understanding what she left unsaid. “You expected me to be different. ”

Before she had a chance to respond, he scooped up the two other dogs and strode over to a small rectangular table hidden in the corner of the room. The heavy black iron table matched his throne and contrasted the warmth she had noticed throughout the rest of the house. Two chairs placed on opposite ends awaited them.

Down to business then. Apprehension climbed higher with each step she took, her bare feet still cold on the stone floor. The god of the undead waited for her, his eyes glittering as if he could see how her pulse raced beneath her skin. As if he could taste the regret that had already begun to sour in her mouth.

Sitting down, he smoothed one hand over his dark hair, fixing the loose strands with a practiced motion. Face clear, she observed him. The fastidiousness, the sharp clarity to his blue eyes. The meticulousness that he couldn’t hide even if he wished he could. There was an arrogance to him, but in this instance she feared it was warranted. Intelligence shone in his face, and there was a shrewdness to it that made her heart stutter.

Elysia joined him, still studying the hard lines of his face. She sat with one leg tucked up under her before quickly planting both feet on the ground.

His face twitched in amusement at her nervous movements.

Her words came out in a blur, her hands clenching beneath the table. “I’m sorry she restrained you. I didn’t know. What I mean is?—”

He spread his own hands across the iron table, interrupting her apology. “Maya’s actions are not yours to apologize for, Ms. Parker. Now I understand you’ve traveled a long way and want to make a deal.”

Mouth tensing, Elysia leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. If that’s how he wants to be. “You seemed quite affronted by my desire for a deal the last time we met.”

Her eyes drifted to a crystal chalice at the end of the table. Dark iridescent liquid rippled of its own accord, light glinting off its surface, but the god of the undead snapped her attention back to him with a lift of his shoulder.

He unbuttoned his jacket, allowing one arm to reach back and drape around his chair. “Your request was unexpected. And I’d rather talk in front of a fire with a glass of wine, but we haven’t got the time, have we? Besides, you seem quite insistent on business.”

His response surprised her. “Why else would I be here?”

A short, curt laugh escaped his mouth. “Why else, indeed.” He studied her now, not bothering to hide it. Eyes roamed over her face, from her hair to the tips of her fingers. Elysia fought the desire to squirm.

“I should have known you’d be beautiful. Eyes like a doe to cover all the unholy thoughts inside your head. Because you’re not an innocent, are you? You couldn’t possibly be.” His firm mouth almost smiled as he looked down at his hands before looking back at her, waiting for her to answer.

The tone in which he delivered these words implied a double meaning. She gathered that he somehow knew much about her life in Relaclave, but also that he wanted to unsettle her. See just how easily she reacted.

Elysia colored, anger simmering beneath her surface. He thought he could toy with her. Make her slip up just because he had a pretty face and a voice that ran like fingers up and down her spine.

Steel entered her eyes, hardening her against the deceptive allure of the undead god before her. She redirected their attention as if this were any other meeting where the participants couldn’t quite stay on task. “I believe this could be mutually beneficial. A deal for both of us.”

A small knowing smirk sharpened the angles of his face. “Ms. Parker, I’m not the one who should be worried. The deals I cut are rarely to my disadvantage.” His face shifted, all mirth disappearing in an instant as his voice lowered. “I’ll give you a secret since I hear you love them so much. There was only once. One single time that I fouled a deal.”

Elysia found herself leaning in closer. “What happened?” She clocked every tiny twitch of irritation on his face, how his shoulders tightened and cheeks drew gaunt. Whatever his mistake had been, it haunted him even now.

“I was new to my throne and trust me, I have learned my lesson every day since then. I hope you’re prepared for what you’re asking to do because once a deal is struck, there’s nothing that can change it. Understood?”

His response left endless questions bubbling up inside her, but she quelled them with a firm hand. She knew better than to let her curiosity take the lead. Instead, she met his frigid condescension with an unyielding spine. She lifted her dark eyes slowly to his, her voice taking on a sultry quality that startled even her. “Then I suppose you have nothing to worry about. Since you always come out on top.”

A soft laugh huffed out of him. “Don’t start games you can’t finish.” Amusement shone in his eyes now, as if he was calling her bluff.

“With all due respect, I’ve played scarier games. Are you willing to hear me out?”

He frowned at that, pinning her with a stare. “You’ve thought this through? There’s no shame in changing your mind. You haven’t even tried to read me with your magic yet.”

Elysia stiffened. “I’m not so presumptuous as to think I can freely use my curse on a god.”

The allure of reading this man’s secrets felt criminal, it was so tempting. She looked at him plainly now. The serious crease to his brow. His eyes shifted between a fissuring coolness and passionate embers of heat. There were some things even she knew not to touch.

“I’m here for a deal. I don’t need your secrets to do it.” Her voice came out terse, and she sat up a little taller. She wasn’t going to let some handsome stranger get under her skin.

And yet her eyes went back to his face, seemingly of their own magnetic accord. It was no wonder the god before her had no difficulty swindling those who came to him for deals. She could just imagine the women panting after him while he barely even noticed. He appeared to be the kind of man so entrenched in his own endeavors and passions that for him to look up at all would be a miracle. But if he did… She couldn’t help but wonder how his intense severity translated to other activities. To have that type of focus, attention to every last detail… Her thoughts trailed off, and her cheeks went pink as the sound of his voice drew her back in.

The undead god of the dead looked at her warm cheeks, his mouth lifting slightly in response. “Perhaps I’m feeling amicable. Look, listen. Do your worst. Learn my secrets while I’m giving you the chance.” He leaned across the table, not looking apprehensive in the slightest.

She blinked, thrown by his fervent words. Cautiously, she allowed the volume of the whispers surrounding him to increase. Within a moment, the whispers became screams, and then it was her own voice joining them as her hands covered her ears, body doubling over until her head was between her knees. As if her physical hands could stop a sound that wasn’t even there. Abruptly, her magic cut off, the sound dying. Chest heaving, she stayed curled over until her head quieted.

Tears leaked out of her eyes, leaving wet tracks down her face. The god of the dead looked pained, his fingers clenched and jaw hard. His mouth opened, but she closed her eyes, diving back into her magic’s grasp. This time she focused specifically on what she needed to close this deal with him. Instead of an onslaught, tiny threads and wisps came to her.

Eyes open, she found a hint of nerves in his expression before he dashed it away. Her voice was a rasp. “The weight of all their pain will kill you.”

He gave her a tight pinch of a smile. “Temporary fix for a temporary problem. What did you discover in your second attempt?”

Elysia considered her response, making him wait. Hoping it made him sweat. “I learned there is something you deeply, desperately want, and you hate that it is so.”

She could have heard a pin drop.

The intensity in his blue eyes blazed like the sapphire fires of his realm. He turned his face as if struggling with himself before he came back to her, and when he did, his voice was cutting and harsh. “You did not go deep enough nor are you understanding correctly. Given the chance, you looked away. Remember, you had both opportunity and choice, Ms. Parker. Let us move on to the deal, then.”

Heart beating faster, she shook her head, feeling as though she had made a fatal error. “I… I can look again. My magic is new.”

Composure restored, the god across from her gave a clipped shake of his head. “No, we need to move on. What are your opening terms?”

Rattled, she steepled her fingers and appraised him. “I have reason to believe you played a role in my kingdom, Kava, losing access to its natural relationship with magic.”

His jaw ticked. “And?”

“And I would like this remedied.”

His chest strained beneath the black shirt and jacket he wore. Each breath seemed to be a strain until he finally spoke. “That’s what you want? No matter the cost?”

“Can you do it?”

He stared at her and she worried at the scrutiny in his gaze, the tension lining his shoulders.

In an abrupt movement, he crossed his arms, his stare still heavy. “You’re asking me to break someone else’s deal.”

She frowned. “It was a deal to end Kava’s magic?”

“Dealer-client privilege.” He shrugged, appearing indifferent to the shock ringing through her.

Anger reared its head in response to his evasion. His blatant disregard for the ramifications of what he had done set off the fury that slumbered within her. How could one person be so thoughtless and careless? She took in his face, devoid of empathy or compassion. And such an asshole.

Elysia fought to keep her own face neutral, but based on the way his eyebrow was rising, she wasn’t winning that battle. Leashing her anger, she responded with a shrewdness that would make her father proud.

“You made a deal to cut off Kava’s magic forever ?” She smiled knowingly.

The undead god pursed his lips, running one hand through his midnight hair. “No, and as much as I enjoy your aptitude for the finer aspects of a magically binding deal—it’s not that simple. I can’t just give Kava its magic back.”

She looked back at him, challenge lighting her eyes and a taunt lifting her voice. “Too difficult? Impotence problems?”

That same amusement as before shone back at her. He considered her a moment longer before his face grew serious as he came to a decision. “Something like that. Deals are tricky things. Magic is a tricky thing. There are three deals in conflict at the moment. One that came into effect when I became god of this realm, the one you would like to be broken, and the one you would like to forge.”

He tapped his fingers on the table, and a slow smile crept across his face. “Would you like to know one more secret?” His laugh rolled out low and deep, knowing that he had just hooked her completely. Anyone whose magic revolved around secrets was likely to have a weakness for personal truths.

Elysia’s mouth pressed tight and she narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.”

“Ah, but it’s working, isn’t it? Your magic just stretched like a cat, you can barely contain it. I can feel it winding in and out around me. Not that I mind, of course. Your magic has such an interesting sensation.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his blatant attempts to provoke her, so he persisted. “It’s only fair. I know your tragic little story. Girl grows up in magicless land, is exploited for the very gift they revile, and still tries to save her people. Well, this is mine.”

He clicked his fingers, transporting them from the table to the dais. Except now there were two skull-adorned thrones and they sat facing each other on them. Startled, Elysia grabbed hold of the arms of the throne. Traveling like that might be commonplace for him, but it was foreign and deeply uncomfortable for her. Hands gripped the arms of her throne, and his knee brushed against hers as he brought his face close to hers.

“You were correct when you asked if I was impotent.”

Elysia blinked in surprise. “You’ve displayed magic several times in the short time I’ve been here.”

The god of the undead’s face twisted, tension cording through his neck. “I am impotent for a god.”

Elysia found herself caught in his story, curiosity flickering to life and a question tumbling out of her mouth in spite of herself. “Really?”

Instead of answering, he snapped his fingers, bringing them back to the table with the chalice now in between them. As much as he tried to lounge back in the chair, she could see the frustration peeking through his body. The subtle roll of his shoulders, how his nose flared for the briefest of seconds.

He finally answered. “I was a reluctant god. Combine that with the reckless anger of youth and the fates and their penchant for a good story, and here we are.”

“The deal that went wrong.”

He looked up at her, one corner of his mouth lifting as he echoed her. “The deal that went wrong.” His smile became grim. “But also tradition. Tradition and a deal gone so very wrong. The perfect storm.”

Elysia considered all he had told her carefully.

“If you were to regain your powers, then you could grant me my deal?”

The god before her paused, uncertainty bringing distance into his gaze. The uncertainty disappeared. “What I need is my talisman.”

“A talisman that holds your power.” Her words were flat. He had to be fucking kidding her.

He nodded. “Yes, something like that. There is a talisman that belongs with me. Every god of the dead has to find their talisman in order to come into the full power of their position. It’s a terrible tradition and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Elysia knew her face was rude. That she should be hiding her obvious irritated disbelief.

“And how exactly am I supposed to find this talisman? Is it in your realm, mine? Is it big, small, metaphorical? What exactly are we talking about here?” Her anger spurted out in fits. This task would be impossible.

Her anger was nothing to him. He flicked it away and held her gaze as steady as the bone trees of his land. His jaw tensed, but he brought a gentle hand to the curve of her face. Smooth, warm fingers rested against her skin. “If you accept my offer, then I will provide you with every last resource within my grasp. I will be at your complete disposal. The power I do have will be yours to direct so long as it brings us closer to the talisman. Our situations are much the same—your kingdom, my realm—both magically impoverished, decaying before our eyes.”

The depths of his blue eyes held her silent as he made his case. “I can do nothing without the talisman, so either we have a deal, or we both carry on knowing our homes are slowly dying an unnatural death that could have been stopped.”

Elysia bit down, her teeth grinding as she chewed on his proposal.

“What happens once you have the talisman?”

He gave her a funny smile. “The talisman will do its job and we will pursue the restoration of our homes.”

“You still won’t be… how you should be, though? Because of the deal gone wrong.”

He emitted a long sigh, chin tilting up to the ceiling. “Correct.”

Elysia gathered her frustration, releasing it back at him as logic. “What you’re offering me is an impossible quest for an undefined talisman. A talisman that won’t fully resolve your impotency, or guarantee we can restore our homes, which effectively makes this the worst proposition I’ve ever heard.” She threw him the most flat, unimpressed look she could muster.

“Would you prefer I lie to you? Tell you that I’ll be able to restore your land from rot to vitality in the blink of an eye? Trick you into taking my deal only to leave you feeling betrayed?”

“No—”

“I am not going to begin this relationship with lies. I have told you all I can within the constraints set by the fates. Is there more I wish I could tell you? Yes, of course, but for now the talisman is where we must start. Whether you come to hate me or trust me by the end of this, please know this was my only choice. You will understand once you find the talisman.” The god of the undead leveled her with a stare that saw right through to her quaking heart.

“And this all goes back to the deal that went wrong. The reckless deal you made that is now slowly killing my kingdom and your realm.” She held his stare, her mouth drawn tight. She knew it was unkind, but she needed to hear him acknowledge why they were all in this mess. A mess that he was now expecting her to clean up.

His eyes darkened. “Yes, Ms. Parker, because of my error. Trust me when I say that I have spent every day regretting that deal for a myriad of reasons, but one above all the others.”

“And what would that be?”

Blue eyes blazed into hers. “A conversation for another day. Do we have a deal?”

Elysia closed her eyes, disappointment crashing over her. The sorrow burrowing through her was not just for herself, but for all the Kavians who would not be getting their magic back.

Not tonight. Possibly not ever.

She knew an unachievable deal when she heard one, and she was wise enough to know when to walk away. She exhaled a small, bitter sound. “It sounds like we’re both just going to have to live with our regrets then. Then again, I’ll probably be seeing you soon enough unless I leave Kava.” Elysia looked around as if the dead were suddenly going to appear and she could ask them what it was like to die.

“You shouldn’t speak of such things.”

Elysia’s eyes flicked to his, noting how terse he sounded—as if it angered him to hear her speak so flippantly about her own death. “I didn’t think someone like yourself would be so precious about death. Happens to the best of us after all, doesn’t it?”

There wasn’t a shred of humor to be found on his face. “While the timing of mortals’ deaths is out of my control, I am deeply aware of the undue trauma of an early death upon a soul.”

Elysia softened at his response and found herself wishing she could keep talking to the pale, blue-eyed god in front of her. He appeared harsh, maybe a little compulsive or even obsessive, but there was a depth to him she found alluring. She got the feeling he was someone who would be happy to muse and ponder the mysteries long into the night so long as his day’s work was done.

“Since we’re being honest, I think I might like you. I feel like you’re someone I could talk to, and that’s a rare thing for someone like me. But my answer remains the same—no deal.” She studied him openly now, feeling oddly at ease with her disclosure.

The god of the dead wore a practiced impassive face. “I will give you two weeks to change your mind. Return when you are ready and give your final answer. Simply call my name three times.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Her words were matter-of-fact. His offer was nothing more than a wild goose chase without even the lure of a golden prize.

She stood to leave, but paused, giving him one last chance to give her a better deal. “There is an entire kingdom decaying and its people alongside it. People who are sick and people who are being hunted for being unlucky enough to be cursed with some broken remnant of magic. And your best offer is a quest for a talisman?” She stared at him beseechingly.

The fires in his eyes cooled and his shoulders drew back. “My name is Aidan. Until your return.” He touched his fingers to his lips, and then cupped the back of her neck, pressing his fingers firmly behind her ear.

There was a small twinge of heat upon her skin, and then she was gone. Ripped from the land of the dead with nothing to show for her efforts.

She had failed. Kava would remain exactly as it was—hopeless.