47. The Ferrier

Chapter 47

The Ferrier

A t the sight of her tears, I wished I were a different man—a better man—someone who knew all the right answers, someone who could take away the hurt.

There was something to be said for enduring so much so young. When all was said and done, you'd be left somehow older than your years, as though you'd lived more lives than one in the same span of time.

She'd been so brave, so strong for so long, but no more.

I had failed. Death had found her. And now, her greatest fear was coming with the next dawn. Of course, he would come for her when I was weakest. Of course, he would tempt and tease her with false hope. I should have prepared her for this, for him .

Katrin inhaled a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly. She repeated this several times as though willing herself to calm, but I could still feel the thundering beat of her heart in her chest.

All the while, I held her, not knowing if it would be my last chance to do so.

She lifted her head, not quite pulling away, but making enough space between us that I could meet her red-rimmed eyes. Salt tracks lined her cheeks, more visible against her shadowed skin.

"Tell me not to accept his deal." Her voice, pitched high with emotion, floundered over the words.

Taking her by the shoulders, I willed her to see the truth in my eyes. "Never accept any kind of bargain proposed by Death. He serves only himself."

She nodded like she'd already guessed as much. Her shoulders curled inward. "Then if neither of us are to be free, I think we should consider extending our current agreement."

I tensed. "For how long?"

Seeming to gird herself, she took another deep breath in and lifted her chin. "Indefinitely."

My hands dropped from her shoulders. Taking first one step back, then another, I pushed my fingers through my hair, tugging gently like it could wake me from this dream—this nightmare where Katrin asked to stay with me, and I had to refuse.

"No." The single syllable sounded cruel even to my own ears.

"Evander—" She stepped toward me, and I lifted my hands to ward her off. The hurt that flashed across her face nearly crumbled my resolve. "You saw what happened. My touch repelled him. Our vow repelled him."

"No!" I said more forcefully. "This is not a life." I waved my arms at the evidence around us. The crumbling manor, the hazy daylight, the demonic shadow creatures that cowered in corners.

Katrin's gaze swept the space, her expression thoughtful. "Death is not life either, Evander."

"You don't know that. The Afterworld is—"

"A complete mystery to both of us," she interjected. "But Behryn isn't. He's a monster. And in case you might have forgotten, he wants to take me as his bride. I will not be some mere inhabitant of the Afterworld. I will be its queen with all the duties that entails."

My mind conjured a list of duties a demon queen might have, each more terrible than the last. Not the least of which would be sharing the king's bed.

"Then I will find somewhere else for you to hide. Somewhere Behryn will never find you." Desperation clawed up my throat, making pretty promises as bad as Death.

Katrin's mouth hardened into a slim line, her jaw set. "For how long? Until our year is up and he regains the ability to touch me? I am marked for a reason. He's ensured that I will be recognized wherever I go, even by those who know me by rumor only."

"We'll find somewhere secluded. Somewhere we can be alone." I couldn't stop the empty words from spilling from my mouth.

"And when you leave to ferry souls each night? What then?" She shook her head, decided. "I have lived in a prison of my own making. I will not do it again."

"It's the same plan you always had. We keep searching for a loophole, a solution, anything to make you undesirable to him. We're just changing the location."

Katrin opened her mouth to say more, but agony lanced through me. I doubled over as my insides twisted, gritting my teeth against the wave of nausea. My knees buckled, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I slammed to the ground. I arched as phantom knives plunged into my back, the pain so much worse than any call had ever been.

I risked a glance toward the window, panting at the effort it took. The sun had dropped significantly since we'd arrived. Dusk was near.

The distance to the stairs had grown, and I groaned. Wincing, I put one hand in front of the other and slid my knee forward. Pain shot up my chest, but I forced myself to move another inch. I halted as two delicate hands wrapped around my arm.

"Oh, no, you don't," Katrin said, crouching beside me. "The only way I'm watching you crawl is if it's toward me."

She ducked beneath my arm, one of hers circling behind my back. I almost laughed at the audacity, but then she heaved upward. She strained against my mass, and I grunted, feeling like I was being torn in two. When she stopped, labored breaths mingling with mine, the desperation in her eyes fractured something deep inside me.

"Shadows." My voice was little more than a whisper, but she nodded.

As though the word alone summoned them, dark forms peeled from the walls, swarming us within seconds. I cried out as they yanked me upright, but Katrin remained at my side, her quiet support a rock in my raging storm. The shadows eased away, and I stumbled, but she didn't balk at my weight as I struggled for footing.

Together, we walked down the hall, our pace slow but steady, even as I trembled in pain. Somehow, we made it outside where dark forms were already darting around the horses, readying the carriage for yet another journey.

I knew then what she meant. There could never be peace between us. We would never have the luxury of idle time together. There would always be another soul to ferry, another threat keeping us alert and on edge. My vision of a life together for the two of us had been a pretty dream, but a dream nonetheless.

When the carriage was ready, I braced my arm against its side, freeing Katrin of my weight. I opened the door and offered my hand to help her up. She took a step away and crossed her arms, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"You're in no condition to ride alone," she said, eyeing my white-knuckled grip on the carriage. "I'm sitting up front with you."

I glared but didn't argue, secretly grateful for her company.

She mounted first, then the shadows swept in to lift me. I sagged onto the driver's seat, keenly aware of every point of contact between us. I reached for the reins, but she grabbed them first.

"Tell me where to go," she said, steel infusing her words and her spine.

I pointed, and we set off through the gate. The sun set as we entered the Corridor, and a doorway quickly appeared to take us to the world of the living. I continued to point out directions as best I could. The pain eased with every second we approached my quarry. Soon, I was well enough to sit straight on the bench. I wiped the sweat from my brow and offered to take the reins from Katrin.

"How do you know where to go?" she asked, handing them over.

"It is a feeling, a tug deep in here." I placed my fist over my chest. "I simply allow it to guide me."

She sat back, appearing to contemplate this as I steered the carriage onto a wide, tree-lined road. It was a well-traveled path that wound straight through the town. Katrin perked up, noticing our location.

"We are in Felwyck."

"Yes," I agreed, though she hadn't asked.

"Why are we here?"

The urgency in her question caught me off guard. "This is where I've been called."

Though my confusion must have been clear on my face, she didn't elaborate. Sure, we were in her hometown, but we hadn't yet arrived at our final destination. The persistent tug still pulled us onward.

She bit her lip, eyes darting over the familiar landscape.

We passed through the town, and my heart sank as we turned onto a long, winding road. At the top of the hill sat the Duke's estate.

Katrin expelled a breath like she'd been holding onto the same one all this time. "Who, Evander?"

There was no way for me to know, not until I met the soul. I urged the horses faster.

As we crested the hill, she leapt from the coach in a flutter of fabric, her shadow sentinels darting out to slow her fall. Her feet touched down, and she took off. I sprang to my feet, swaying slightly as I followed her path to the front door. She hesitated at the threshold, and I offered my hand in silent support. As the shadows ushered us through, I prayed that Death would not be as cruel as I feared.