Odetta had been sleeping a lot lately, each time seeming to slip deeper and deeper. She had already been aging when I came into this world, and now…now, her time was coming to a close. Sooner rather than later, she would leave this realm and pass into the Shadowlands, where she would spend eternity in the Vale.
A different kind of heaviness settled into me as my gaze touched the silvery strands of hair still so incredibly thick, and then moved to the bent, spotted hands resting atop a blanket that would’ve been too thick for anyone else given the warm breeze entering the window and stirring the blades of the ceiling fan. I fixed the edge of the blanket at her side.
When Odetta learned that the Primal hadn’t taken me, she had looked at me with rheumy eyes and said, “Death wants nothing to do with life. None of you can be surprised.”
I hadn’t exactly understood what she’d meant then. I hardly ever did, but her response hadn’t come as a shock. Odetta had never coddled me. She had never been particularly loving, either, but she was more of a mother than the one I had. And soon, she would be gone. Even now, she was so still.
Too still.
My breath caught as I stared at her frail chest. I couldn’t detect any movement. My heart hammered. Her skin was pale, but I didn’t think it had taken on that waxy sheen of death.
“Odetta?” My voice sounded rough to my ears.
There was no response. I rose, speaking her name once more as panic blossomed in my chest. Had she…had she passed?
I’m not ready.
I reached for her hand, stopping before my skin touched hers. I sucked in a shuddering breath. I wasn’t ready for her to be gone. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Heat rushed to my hand as my fingers hovered inches above hers—
“Don’t,” Odetta croaked. “Don’t you dare.”
My gaze flew to her face. Her eyes were open, just thin slits, but enough to see that the once-vibrant blue had dulled. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“I may already have one foot in the Vale, but I haven’t lost my mind.” Her breath was faint and shallow. “Or my vision.”
I glanced down at my hand, hovering so close to her skin. I jerked it to my chest, my heart still pounding. “I think you’re seeing things, Odetta.”
A dry, cracked laugh parted her lips. “Seraphena,” she said, startling me. Only she ever used my full name. “Look at me.”
Shoving my hands between my knees, I looked at her, never knowing a time when her face was free of the heavy lines of age. “What?”
“Do not play coy with me, girl. I know what you were about,” she rasped. Denial rose, but she was having none of it. “What have I told you? All these years? Have you forgotten? What have I told you?” she repeated.
Feeling as if I were a small child perched on a stool, I shifted uncomfortably. “To never do that again.”
“And what do you think would’ve happened if you’d done that? You were lucky when you were a child, girl. You won’t get lucky again. You’d bring the wrath of the Primal onto yourself.”
I nodded, even though I had gotten lucky more than once since I was a child and had picked up Butters. Not once had my…gift captured the attention of the Primal of Death. And I…
I didn’t know what I had been about to do.
Shaken, I slid my hands from between my knees and looked at them. They looked normal now. Just like everything about me did. I exhaled raggedly. “I thought you were gone—”
“And I will be gone, Seraphena. Soon,” Odetta predicted, drawing my gaze once more to hers. Was it my imagination, or did she look even smaller under that blanket? Thinner. “I have lived long enough. I’m ready.”
I bit my lip as it started to tremble and nodded.
Those eyes might be dull, but they still held the power to hold mine.
“I know,” I said, clasping my hands and keeping them firmly in my lap.
She eyed me through half-open lids. “Is there a reason you’re in here, other than to disturb me?”
“I wanted to check on you.” And that was true, but I did have another reason. A question. One that had been preying on my mind for a while. “And I wanted to ask you something if you’re up for it.”
“I’m not doing anything but lying here, waiting for you to leave,” she groused.
I cracked a grin at that, but it quickly faded as my stomach started jumping and twisting. “You said something a long time ago, and I wanted to know what you meant—what it meant.” The breath I took was shallow. “You said I was touched by death and life. What does that mean? To be touched by both.”