not in those exact terms,” I said, trying to find the right words. I hesitated to convey Death’s entire message, mainly because I couldn’t give any additional explanations as to why Nethissis was different. We could spend days talking about what Death might’ve meant.
Nethissis frowned. “Then what terms did she use, precisely?”
“She said you were… special. I swear I couldn’t get more out of her. I tried, but the connection faded,” I said.
“Special? I’m special?”
I nodded. “I wish I could tell you more.”
“What could she have meant?” Nethissis murmured, looking at Lumi for answers. But the seasoned swamp witch didn’t have any answers, either.
“I don’t know, but I think we should take it as a good sign. Death could’ve easily told Seeley to simply reap you,” Lumi replied. She was right. I was expecting such an order, and I had to admit, I was relieved.
Hope glimmered in Nethi’s white eyes, the amber circles around her irises shining brighter than ever. It felt good to see her like this. Maybe I’d see her in flesh and blood again soon. She’d yet to get the most out of life. She deserved to live for much longer than she had.
“So, as long as my body is safe, there’s a chance for me to get back to it,” Nethissis said.
“Yes. I assume Death will grant me the authority to resurrect you with Thieron, if that is the case,” I replied.
As quickly as she’d smiled, Nethissis went pale. “If that is the case? What other case is there, Seeley? Why mention my body, if that’s not what’s in store for me?”
Sidyan exhaled sharply. “Knowing Death as well as we do… believe me, Nethissis, nothing is certain with her. Absolutely nothing. She might change her mind five minutes from now and not care who gets hurt in the process. Take this as a win for now. Let’s focus on finding the Darklings’ true leader. Let’s bring something good to Death, and her mood will improve significantly.”
“Yeah, that’s the trouble with cosmic powers,” Lumi grumbled, crossing her arms. “They’re moody. Downright catastrophic if they choose to be. Sidyan has a point. Let us be thankful for what we know now and get back to work. I doubt the Darklings’ true leader will be easy to find.”
“As long as we stay close to Zoltan and Veliko, I think we’ll get there,” Sidyan replied.
“Can you still sense them?” Lumi asked. The question stirred my interest.
Sidyan brought his scythe up, whispering a spell against its curved, silvery blade. He closed his eyes as whispers flew past him, tickling my ears. “They’re close. A few miles up north, but within my range.”
Lumi grinned. “It’s a good thing you carved a tracking rune into one of their boots.”
Indeed, with all the craziness surrounding my release, I’d yet to catch up with Sidyan on a few aspects of this mission—including how we were going to track them. As soon as Lumi mentioned the tracking rune, however, I knew exactly what the Reaper had done. Taking advantage of the ghouls’ ferocity and Nethissis’s movements in the Darklings’ camp, Sidyan had discreetly carved a tracking rune into the thick leather of a black guard’s boot.
That way, whenever he whispered into his blade, Sidyan could sense them. The spell worked on a ten-mile radius, at most. Chances were we’d need to get moving soon. Lumi had yet to figure out a way of telling Tristan about Valaine’s significance among the Darklings, but, knowing the witch as well as I did, I had no doubt she’d think of something soon.
The worst-case scenario was that she’d screw Death’s command altogether and simply reveal herself to Tristan. The truth often had simple yet brutal ways of coming up. Despite everything that had happened, I retained a sense of optimism. The end of the line was no longer in sight, and that meant we had a better chance of getting to the bottom of this entire Visio mess.
I even dared to hope that Nethissis would survive all this. Maybe I was fooling myself, but it was the one thought that kept me going, that stopped me from going mad. And to think this had all started because Death had wanted me to follow Nethissis and her crew around. Sheesh…
Tristan
There weren’t any Darklings in sight, but the rush with which they’d left Astoria had made them careless. Tracks had been left behind—patches of dried blood and footprints in the softer dirt, particularly in the areas of tall grass where they’d hoped