23. The Ferrier

Chapter 23

The Ferrier

M iss Fil'Owen had been right about one thing on the night we'd met: some souls weighed more than others.

Everyone greeted the reaper differently. Some, like Lord Rencourt, came peacefully. He'd likely known about and accepted his impending death long before it happened.

Many wept at the loss of their life. Others raged. Those that died in anger were often the most difficult to ferry, physically. They would run, hide, refuse to leave their living home. It was a race against the sun, but only the rare spirit required multiple days to shepherd.

Then, there were the souls that clawed at my defenses. The mother who never got to meet the baby she'd brought into the world. The soldier barely old enough to hold a weapon. The father leaving behind his wife and five children. Even knowing there was more after death, it doesn't lessen the burden of separation between worlds.

Tonight was no better. I could still feel the imprint of the boy's tiny hand in mine, could hear the tears he held back as he asked for his mama. The truth was, I had no idea what lay on the other side. I'd never been to the Afterworld, never asked questions I feared the answer to. Most of the time, I was content to exist in ignorance, but sometimes a little boy would look to me for reassurance I could not give and the silence would taste like char in my mouth.

Whenever I collected children's souls, I kept my hood down, not wanting to frighten them.

He had been so small.

I didn't understand the rhyme or reason of death. Even after so many years, it remained as mysterious and random as it had felt when I was alive. I'd only ever questioned Death once, and I had paid the ultimate price for it.

When I returned to Tyr Anigh , it was nearly dawn. The interminable fog surrounding the place had lightened from storm cloud gray to the color of wood smoke. It was exceptionally thick on this day, heavy as the dark thoughts that plagued me. The upper floors of the manor had disappeared into the mist entirely like a mourning shroud hung over the world.

It did not bode well for the day to come.

I unbridled the horses and left them to roam. Like me, they required neither food nor sleep but seemed content to haunt the estate most days.

I hung the scythe in the stable beside the pitchfork and shovel like it were any other tool and not a symbol of everything I hated.

The sun rose as it always did with no birdsong to welcome it nor golden rays to announce its appearance over the horizon.

I could not remember the last time I'd felt the sun's warmth upon me. My skin had paled to a nearly translucent shade reminiscent of bone. It was no wonder the living portrayed me as a walking skeleton. What was I if not a corpse kept animated by Death's magic?

On days like these, I missed the numbing effects of good company and ale.

I expected Miss Fil'Owen to be asleep, which was probably for the best. There was no reason to subject her to my current mood, even if I did enjoy provoking her. Her fire was unexpected yet not unwelcome—a rare trait for one raised to simper and comply.

Upon entering the manor, I was surprised to see the shadows I'd left behind to watch over the girl. They hovered in the foyer like a pair of dark specters, making no move as I closed the door and hung up my cloak. I turned back and finally noticed the third figure seated on the bench beside the stairs.

Miss Fil'Owen glared at me from her position between my dark sentinels, resembling a fallen angel, beautiful and cold.

"My lady." Unable to help myself, I bowed, finding pleasure in the ire that flared behind her eyes. "I thought you'd have retired for the evening—or morning, as it were." Could this be about my lack of answer about her parents earlier?

I wanted her to know the truth, but I didn't want to cause her unnecessary suffering. She didn't need to know the full repercussions of her actions just yet, nor was I of the right mind to deliver the news. My dark disposition had followed me home.

She must have realized, for her face changed in an instant. The inner corners of her brows tipped up, the downward turn of her mouth softening into something akin to pity.

I looked away before her compassion could draw forth my wrath.

Her voice was a light in the dark, reaching out to calm my inner demons. "How was your—" She faltered searching for the right word, finally landing on "—trip?"

With that one word, the memories of my night flooded back to me. Reality struck me like a bolt of lightning to the chest. I was the monster and Katrin the victim. She might have borne marks that resembled my shadows, but at her core, she was everything I wasn't.

And she didn't belong here.

"I thought you'd be asleep." The bitter taste of regret coated my tongue, giving my words more venom than I intended.

A flash of hurt transformed her features before she schooled her face into something cold and aloof. It was a skill known by courtier and demon alike. I hated that I'd forced her to mask herself, but it was safer this way. Cordial but separate.

"I couldn't sleep."

Her answer was brusque. I looked down at her arms wrapped firmly around her middle and knew she was lying.

That was fine. She didn't owe me any truths. Her secrets were hers to keep. Fate knew I had plenty of my own.

"I wouldn't know anything about that." So much for cordial. "You could at least have bathed after I'd gone through the trouble of fetching your garments."

I mentally berated myself as she lifted her chin, fixing me with a glare that would put Death to shame.

"Your disgust is noted. Perhaps if you answered my questions honestly instead of waltzing around them, I'd have found it in me to bathe and dress for polite society. As I seem to be in the company of a heathen, I think it perfectly suitable for me to maintain my present state of filth."

Her chest rose and fell with rapid pants. I'm ashamed to admit I found the sight oddly captivating. I tore my gaze away, fists clenched at my sides.

"Fine. Do whatever you want." I called the shadows to me, unwilling to continue this petty back-and-forth.

"I intend to!" Her answering shout pierced the darkness that enfolded me just before I was swept away.