“I’m sure you two will get a room at some point down the line,” he said dryly. “We need to get back to business.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, slowly moving away from Eira.
She took my hand and squeezed gently. “Nothing to be sorry about,” she replied.
“It took you two forever!” Riza exclaimed, prompting the rest of the crew to laugh.
“Yeah, hardy-har-har,” I muttered, jokingly narrowing my eyes at her.
Death chuckled. “It’s nice to see love prevail,” she said.
Her voice had an instant effect on us. The laughter faded like mist before the rising sun. Here we were, in the middle of a frozen lake, in the heart of a world that had suffered so much at the hands of the very entities they’d unknowingly worshipped as gods. I felt awfully sorry for the Aledrasians. Much like the fae, they must’ve been hit hard by the ritual.
“What did Thieron do, exactly?” I asked Death. “You told me the spell, and I said it and whatnot… but help me understand, what just happened?”
The First Tenners flanked her. Dream and Nightmare couldn’t take their eyes off her, constantly checking the seals, likely thinking of ways to break them. Soul, Widow, and Phantom were the most thrilled to be close to her again—unlike the others, they’d served her until the moment we’d freed them from Eirexis, Zetos, and Phyla. Thieron rested under my thigh straps, still glowing in her presence.
“Thieron reversed the last stage of the ritual,” Death said. “After the five million fae were taken, their life-chains were broken, their bodies hijacked by the Hermessi. From there, a deadly pulse of energy would be released. Specifically, the energy which the elementals had been locked out of for eons.”
“So, they had limits placed on them,” Amelia concluded.
Death sighed. “Pretty much. I cannot tell you how that happened, because the affairs of the universe shouldn’t even be your concern. Anyway, Thieron simply overrode the ritual. It sealed the energy back where it belongs, away from the Hermessi’s reach. And thanks to you wielding it, Taeral, it sealed it for good. The elementals will never be able to reach it again. There will be no more ritual attempts.”
“Of course, there won’t be a Brendel to keep that particular fire burning,” Kabbah added, his arms crossed as he stood to the side. “I doubt the others will try to continue her legacy after what just happened.”
Death shot him a cold stare. “You had better keep them in check,” she said. “They’ve had their fun, but now things are back to normal.”
“Rest assured, they can no longer harm any living creature. The power they drew from the five million fae was gone the moment Taeral swung Thieron against the ritual,” Kabbah said. “We’re all awake now, but not like before.”
“So we’ll never see the rebels again? We’ll never hear from Ramin or Inalia or all the others who’ve fought against the ritual?” I asked.
Kabbah smiled. “You’ll feel them in the wind. In the burning hearth, perhaps. In the sound of waves crashing against the shore. In the rumble of a volcano. But that is it. The Hermessi have been brought back to where they belong. In their planets, nurturing the elements.”
“What about you?” Amelia replied. “You’re still here.”
“I’m hanging by a thread, and it’s only thanks to Fallon’s hybrid body. I’m not juiced up anymore.” Kabbah laughed.
Nethissis and Lumi were still glowing, under the Word’s direct possession. “Maybe it’s time you return to Nevertide, as well,” the Word said. “You’ve been away for long enough. Surely, your planet misses you.”
Kabbah rolled his eyes, the green flames of his hands dimming. “Relax, I don’t plan on sticking around much longer. I’m tired. I need to sleep. I just wanted to say goodbye to these cool kids, that’s all.” He gave us a warm and broad smile, then pointed a thumb at Nethissis, Lumi, and Death. “Make sure the forces of the universe here fix the mess my brothers and sisters made. I’ve done my part.”
Raphael grinned. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. We’re not done here. Not by a long shot.”
“Will you do me… well, us, a favor?” I asked Kabbah, and he eyed me curiously. “Will you tell Inalia, Ramin, and the others thank you? I’m hoping you still have your primordial connection, or whatever you call it.”
“I’ll let them know,” Kabbah said. “Just remember to pay attention to the world around you, kid. A Hermessi will always smile at you. Keep that in mind.” He gave Eva a playful wink. “And you, sassy little copperhead, you had better not change. That courage of yours, as reckless as it may seem, will take you places.”
Eva grinned. “It’s a shame we won’t see you again. You were kind of growing on me.”
“The feeling is mutual. Alas, order must be restored in the universe…”
Without another word, Kabbah exhaled and vanished from Fallon’s body. The vampire-fae hybrid wheezed and coughed, blinking rapidly as he tried to readjust to reality, to his existence without a Hermessi nestled inside his body.
“Jeez. That was the longest ride ever!” he croaked. Raphael and Herakles moved quickly to his side.
Riza took out a small knife and cut into her wrist, hissing from the pain.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Herakles blurted, his eyes wide enough to pop out of their orbits.
“Hold your horses,” she said. “Fallon hasn’t fed since Kabbah took over, and our vamps here finished the blood supplies a while back. Unless you want him to go Bloodless, let me feed the fella’.”
Fallon bowed politely. “Thank you. I’m famished.”
“Yeah, yeah, just don’t take too much. I’m not in the mood for lightheadedness,” she replied, raising her wrist to his lips. He drank with remarkable restraint, and I could see the glimmer returning to his fiery eyes. Even his fae glow had returned, the skin shimmering in the twilight.
Phantom cleared her throat. “I think it’s time we address what comes next.”
“What do you mean?” Seeley asked.
“Well, where do you want me to start? The five million fae that died unnaturally? The ghouls we used as weapons against Spirit’s specters? The fact that Death is still locked under 999 seals, weakened by them, and is thus unable to even take Thieron back?” she retorted. “Putting the seals on wasn’t the hard part. Taking them off is.”
My heart jumped at the mention of the fae. At least Phantom was on my side, regarding this. I took it as a good start, because I’d already prepared a speech in favor of resurrecting them all. There was only one challenge to this.
“How can you bring back five million fae, if Death is under the seals?” I asked.
“First and foremost, I need you to do something for me, before I answer that,” Death said. “I need you to hold on to Thieron until I am free. I will come to you when that happens.”
“Wait, what?!” Widow croaked, downright shocked. “What the hell?!”
“Why me?” I replied, my face burning as the Reapers’ eyes drilled holes into my head.
“It has to be you, Taeral. Someday, you and I will sit down and discuss this in greater detail. But until then, I hope you can accommodate my request. You did not use it selfishly when you had the chance to revive your father. You stuck to the mission. You are loyal and noble beyond words. I trust you, and I want you to keep it close to you. Without my knowledge, you cannot use it the way you’d probably want to, anyway.”
Breathing out, I glanced down at Thieron. Its glow dimmed softly, as if telling me it was perfectly comfortable staying with me for a little while longer. I knew that, because I could feel its eternal consciousness resounding through me.
I looked at Death. “Okay. Now, please… help us. Five million fae—”
“Hold your horses. That’s next on my to-do list. But you’ll need to follow my lead. I can’t revive the fae. But you can help Seeley do it.”
“Oh, come on!” Widow snapped. “This is the second time you’re snubbing us, your most loyal subjects. It’s
insulting!”
Death laughed. “I have work lined up for you and your siblings, too. You can thank me later,” she replied, and shifted focus back to me. “Are you ready, Taeral, Crown Prince of the Fire Star?”
Ready as I’d ever be. This was it. My chance to bring my father and the others back. I was as giddy as a child on his way to the fairground. I’d promised my mother something, and I was finally able to come through for her.
For our family. Our friends. Most importantly, I was coming through for myself.
Amelia
Death taught Taeral another spell from her arsenal—or perhaps “spell” was too strong a word for what it looked like. It sounded closer to a command given to Thieron, as Taeral whispered it into the blade. The scythe’s handle symbols lit up green this time around, a bell-like chime emanating from it.
“Now, touch Seeley with the blade,” Death said.
Taeral gave her a frown but followed her instruction, nonetheless. He carefully pressed the blade against Seeley’s shoulder. As soon as he was touched, the Reaper gasped, his skin glowing in soft flashes of green. The color faded, leaving a delicate shimmer in its wake. Seeley took several deep breaths and smiled.
“This feels rather amazing. What just happened?” he asked, glancing at Death.
“I taught Taeral to give you some of my permissions,” Death said.
“What permissions are those, exactly?” Taeral replied.
“To raise the dead. The five million fae you so desperately want to save will be brought back, thanks to Seeley’s enhanced Reaper protocols,” Death explained. “Your father, your friends, your allies, and the many others who fell under the Hermessi’s influence. What the elementals did was against the natural course of life. We all know that. So, you have a chance at fixing it.”
Taeral’s eyes were glassy, tears welling up. His lower lip quivered. I could only imagine the kind of relief and joy he was experiencing at the thought of seeing his father again—this time, alive and unharmed. “Thank you,” he said to her. “Thank you…”
“Does that mean he’s indebted to you?” Eira asked. She struck me as fiercely protective of Taeral. It was nice to see she had his back, even in front of Death. The Hermessi child had come a long way since we’d first met her. Crazy how the world ending changes a person.
Death looked at Eira, and I could swear she was scanning every fiber in her body, every thought and memory in her head. “You need not worry. I am the one who owes Taeral a great debt, not only for bringing Thieron back together and for stopping the Hermessi, but also for holding on to my beloved scythe while I get out of this mess. It is not an easy task I asked of him, and yet he obliged. Your concern for him is endearing. He deserves a soulmate like you.”
Eira blushed, stealing a glance at Taeral. He gave her a soft and loving smile, and I was more than happy to swoon over these two. Raphael held me close, his muscular frame nearly swallowing mine. He chuckled. “There you go, Phantom. The dream you made with us finally came true.”
The girl Reaper offered a smirk in return. “I based everything in that dream on reality. On what you were all feeling toward each other. The love was already there, between you and Amelia, between Varga and Eva, between Riza and Herakles, and, most importantly, between Taeral and Eira. Most of you just didn’t realize how deep your emotions went until I made you live them. Hell, even Brendel’s royalty ambitions were real. She wanted to lead. She wanted to rule, and the ritual was her best chance at establishing a new reign, where she was the leading entity.”
“That was a spectacular delusion, at best,” Soul interjected.
“Not necessarily,” Death replied. “Had Brendel succeeded, had the ritual gone ahead all the way to the very end… she would’ve become as powerful as the Word or me. No one knew that, of course, except Brendel. Well, and me.”
“We were told the end of the ritual was the death of five million fae, followed swiftly by a wave of destruction,” Taeral said, raising an eyebrow. “You mean to tell us you lied?”
Death shrugged. “Not exactly. I withheld a small detail. When the last life form in the ritual’s path died, the Hermessi’s powers would have tripled. Imagine what Brendel would’ve been like, then. She wouldn’t have needed the Spirit Bender’s help. I chose to focus on stopping the five million fae from dying, rather than leaving it all to the last minute.”
I nodded slowly. “That makes sense. What matters is that it’s over. Brendel is dead. The ritual is gone forever. And the Hermessi are back in their seats.”
“Thank you all for that,” Death replied. “Each and every one of you has been crucial to this moment. I will never forget it.”
Widow shook his head, his arms still crossed. Death looked at him.
“Is there something you wish to tell me?” she asked him.
“You keep doing this stuff with a mortal creature holding your most prized possession, Thieron, yet you won’t explain why. I am sorry, but I need more than that, after everything we did for you. I don’t care about the ritual or the Hermessi or any of that garbage. I just want to understand why Taeral is so special to you.”
“Also, I’d like to know what message you left us on that pebble? We had a hard time deciphering it,” Soul added meekly, like a student raising a hand in class, unsure of his question.
The shadow of a smile fluttered across Death’s face. “My darling Widow. I told you, Taeral is a future Reaper and a Hermessi heir. His bloodline makes him unique,” she said, then glanced at Soul. “As for the pebble, I’ll let you decipher and figure it out. You’re rusty, dear. A First Tenner should never be rusty.”
It sounded like a reprimand, and Soul seemed rather concerned by her response. He brought the pebble up for a moment to look at it. He scoffed and threw it far away, until it vanished beyond the horizon.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Phantom blurted.
“I’ve had enough of your games and secrecy,” Soul said to Death. “I am forever loyal and bound to you, even though you gave me and my siblings freedom. For that, I deserve a little bit of respect. Therefore, I don’t give two craps about the pebble message. I just wanted you to tell me, yourself.”
Death sighed deeply. “It said… Come to where it begins. It’s in a language we’ve not used in a long time. I’d thought one of you must’ve cracked it.”
Soul shook his head. “No. We found you, though. And thanks for telling me something clearly, for once… I appreciate it.”
“I’m still not fully on board with what’s going on here regarding Thieron and Taeral,” Widow grumbled. “Since you’ve become more open with Soul, can you elaborate this for me, as well?”
Death chuckled. “You’re really enjoying my captivity, aren’t you?”
Widow shrugged. “As long as it gets us answers.” His reply made her smile.
“The Hermessi are life-givers, thanks to the existence of pink water. Death is… well, death. Taeral is both life and death, in a certain sense. He has privileges because the universe has willed it. We cannot question that. We can only accept it,” she said.
A moment passed slowly as the concept sank in.
“Any one of us could hold on to Thieron while we work to set you free,” the Time Master said. “Why does it have to be him?” He glanced at Taeral. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Taeral replied. “I’m curious, as well.”
“Because he claimed it through the challenge, and because he’s a living creature and thus cannot use it the way any of you would,” Death replied. “Do not take this personally, Reapers. This isn’t about who’s worthy of holding the damn thing. It’s not Excalibur.”
“You’ve given it to me because I can’t play with it. I lack your knowledge,” Taeral concluded.
“Exactly,” she said.
“So you don’t trust us,” Widow grumbled.
Phantom groaned, somewhat frustrated. “Did you not see what the Spirit Bender did?! He was one of us! Our brother. Our friend. A
nd he turned against her. What happens if one of us tries to do the same? How will Thieron be safe in our hands, if one of us did what Spirit did?”
“But we’re not Spirit,” Widow insisted.
“We’re not incorruptible, either, brother,” Soul chimed in. “I may not like the point that Death is making, but it is valid. I accept that premise, and I understand it. It doesn’t make us any less valuable.”
Widow thought about it for a few moments. Eventually, he conceded, lowering his head in a slow nod. “Fine. What do you want us to do?” he asked, his galaxy eyes fixated on Death.
She smiled, seemingly pleased with how the conversation had progressed.
“And how can I help?” Kelara asked.
“You, my dear, you’re staying here with me, and so will Dream and Nightmare,” Death said. “The three of you will work to break the remaining seals and get me out of here, hopefully before the century ends.”
“I am sorry I cannot help you with that,” the Word said through Lumi and Nethissis. “My power would have helped with Thieron, if you’d allowed me. The seals, I’m afraid, are a different business.”
“It’s fine,” Death replied. “The Spirit Bender learned too many of my tricks. This is my fault. I wasn’t careful. I trusted him too much.”
“Turns out neither of you are perfect.” I chuckled and instantly regretted it, as Death, Lumi, and Nethissis scowled at me. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. It is the truth, regardless of its inconvenience,” the Word replied. “I shall take my leave now and give you your friends back. Chances are we will all meet again. You GASP people have a knack for getting into all kinds of trouble.”
Death touched Lumi’s face, smiling softly. “I suppose our brethren will require some explanations about this in the future. I trust you’ll be by my side when that happens.”
The witches nodded. “You can count on me. I saw it all, from the very beginning. I understand what led to this.”
A Shade of Vampire 77: A Fate of Time Page 21