The air between us changes. Goes cold, goes…dead. Like there’s no life left in it and I’m starting to think I can’t even breathe and—
“I’ve only read the book,” he says gruffly. “Now, come along and let me cross something else off that list.”
He starts walking, yanking at the chain and I fall to the ground, skinning my knees open on a rock, my jeans ripping.
“Fuck,” I grumble, swallowing the pain, but he just pulls at the leash again until I’m on all fours, my palms digging into the ground.
“Treat me like a dog,” Death says, mimicking my voice. “Humiliate me. Do you feel humiliated yet, fairy? Because I’m just getting started.”
“Fuck you!” I snarl, and before he pulls the chain again, I fight back. I push up off my hands, doing a summersault and landing on my feet right beside him, the chain noisily going slack between us.
Death’s shadowed face stares down at me. “Look at you fly, little bird.” There’s a hint of awe in his voice. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“It’s easy to be surprised when you don’t know a thing about the person.”
“You think I don’t know you, Hanna Heikkinen?” He starts walking and I quickly follow before he pulls me along again. “Well, I suppose I only know what’s written down in the Book of Souls. Your father wouldn’t tell me a thing. The man truly wanted to protect you…and look at what you’ve gone and done. It’s going to break his damn heart when he finds out what you’ve sacrificed, that you’ve traded your life for his. Do you really think he’s going to live a good life now, even with his cancer cured, if he knows that his dear daughter is a prisoner of mine for eternity?”
I blink, trying to take all of that in at once. Eternity? Since when did I agree to eternity? But that doesn’t matter as much right now. “His cancer is cured?” I ask incredulously, hope shining through my chest.
He nods slowly. “He came to me asking for a cure. He didn’t even want eternal life, just a cure. I told you I don’t make bargains much anymore, there are consequences for each one I do, but I decided to make an exception.”
“Why did you make an exception if he’s your prisoner?”
“Your father doesn’t know he’ll be cured,” he says. “I actually didn’t think of it until two seconds ago. I suppose I’m beginning to feel bad for the old wizard, with him knowing that you’ll be tortured for all time. He’ll know his life wasn’t worth it. He’ll tell you that he’s old, that he’s lived his life, that he’s dying anyway. He will do anything to stop you from making this trade, but it’s already done. You can call me Death. And I will call you mine.”
I fall silent, stepping over a fallen log, wishing the mushrooms on it could save me from this horrible new reality I’ve created for myself. Of course it’s going to break my father’s heart to know I’ll be stuck here, and at some point the truth is going to hit me too, break me into a million pieces that Death will happily eat for breakfast. It ruins me to think of my father out there, mourning me, the guilt he will feel for me taking his place.
But what choice did I have? Death wouldn’t have let both of us go.
Would he have?
“How about you let both my father and I go,” I tell him, trying not to sound too hopeful.
Death seems to think that over. “No,” he says after a moment. “I’m not going to do that.” He sighs. “The truth is, my job isn’t easy and life here is almost always the same. That’s what happens when you’re a God, particularly one of great importance. There’s very little deviation. There are eons of just…the same. I have my hobbies, I have my fights and games, I have my pets, my servants, my councilmen. I have my daughter and my son. I have my vices. I have my maidens. And I have my loyal subjects in the City of Death. But I do not have anything shiny and mortal and new. At least I didn’t until your father showed up. And while he’s not my first choice of company, he did provide a change. You will do the same. So I cannot let you go. One of you must stay. Do you still wish it to be you?”
“Yes,” I say automatically. My heart’s fucking breaking. “My father is a good man. A really good man. And I love him beyond measure. He does not deserve to be locked up in your castle for your amusement, to appease a God’s boredom.”
“And that’s what you deserve?”
“Maybe.” I swallow hard, the iron pressing against my throat. “I never gave much thought to what I deserve. I was just living without appreciating it, without recognizing it. Maybe this is what I deserve, for twenty-four years of just floating along the surface, not grabbing onto life while I had it.”