had become my priority—and possibly my only way to survive, ahead of the ritual.
If the fae refused to die, even if there were five million of them, perhaps the Hermessi wouldn’t be able to complete their ritual. Imagine that. Five million of us just saying no, choosing love and hope and holding each other, fighting to keep our life-chains glowing…
Wishful thinking, I thought. Reapers weren’t allowed to get involved. But, then again, it only took one or two like Kelara and Seeley to break the rules. One or two to get me to see the other fae and tell them what Grace and I had just discovered. From there on, we’d still have a shot at resisting the Hermessi’s influence.
And I’d still get a chance to go back to my family and my friends.
Taeral
With our crew only partially recovered and still rattled by the ghosts’ ability to attack us, along with more than two dozen Reapers having shown up to prevent us from reaching the waterfall building—Baethal, Wrik and Theoth included—our choices were limited. Either we stayed and fought, or we got out of here, preferably without agents of Death tailing us.
The former option was insane and downright suicidal. Even with all our abilities combined and Yamani’s scythe, the chances of defeating all these Reapers were slim to none. The latter came with a downside. I could teleport everyone out of here, easily, but there was a risk that the Reapers would follow us. On top of that, our objective was clear and immovable. We needed to get to the waterfall palace and past the murderous ghosts in order to speak to Death.
The contradiction of circumstances was also baffling. The Reapers and the spirits that surrounded that palace were determined to stop us from getting in, while every atom in my body begged me to go there. My instincts were flaring, and my nerves were stretched. Lumi exhaled, looking rather concerned—her Word flash of light had worked once before, but it didn’t seem like it was an option now. As much as I appreciated the craft of swamp witches, the insecurities it came with had a tendency to put me off.
“One last time,” Baethal said, his midnight-sky eyes set on me, specifically. “Leave, and you won’t be hurt. You know your way back now. Take this chance we’re giving you.”
Glancing around, his fellow Reapers were equally determined to stop us from advancing. Their curved blades were out, each of them capturing the moonlight along the sharp edges. From where I stood, they looked as though they’d been carved out of glistening diamonds.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “We’ve come too far, and our entire worlds depend on this. Why can’t you just stand back? I’m sure Death won’t mind, once she hears what we have to say.”
Wrik laughed, though it was difficult not to notice the mocking musicality in his tone. “What part of ‘We were ordered not to let you anywhere near her’ didn’t you understand?”
“She doesn’t even know what we’re here for,” Amelia said.
Meanwhile, Raphael and I exchanged knowing glances. We’d already talked about this worst-case scenario regarding the Reapers, though we hadn’t anticipated so many of them. Eira, Lumi, and I would skedaddle out of here, while the rest of our crew would split into teams of two and keep the Reapers busy. It was easier for me to teleport only two other people straight to the waterfall palace—hoping the ghosts wouldn’t have time to try to kill us again, since we were dead-set on entering the damn building as soon as we set foot outside.
My only concern was for the others. There were more Reapers here than we’d anticipated, and that raised the stakes a little. Either way, this needed to be done. There was no other way.
“We’re here to obey her orders, not to question them,” Baethal snapped. “Gosh, you’re so hard-headed.”
I raised my scythe at them, wondering if I’d get the desired effect. Baethal just grinned, while his two friends scoffed with sheer contempt. The rest of the Reapers frowned—some were downright wary of the blade, from what I could tell. Varga gave me a sideways glance. “They’re actually scared of it,” he whispered. “They might not look it, but they are.”
It was me they wanted, then. It was me they were trying to convince to leave Mortis, and it was me holding a stranger’s scythe. All these elements combined made me realize that the Reapers would likely be less interested in my crew, and more