Chapter 19

"If I lived one thousand lifetimes," the popular poem by Levy begins. I reflect upon that verse often. I myself have observed more than one thousand lifetimes. In each of them there is only one thing I would not change: having a love worth battling Death himself for.

-Hecate's Guide to Arcane Philosophy

Quiet

R orick dozed beneath me as the Hobs continued to sing, their sweet song as soft and soothing as a lullaby. Sunrise was several hours away still, but he'd tuckered himself out flying us high above the city. When I was sure he was fast asleep, I rose carefully, not wanting to disturb him. I was too tired to put my corset on without his help, but I slipped back into the sleeves of my shift and rebuttoned my blouse. I tucked my hat into my pocket for safekeeping.

His body was cold, even near the fire. I went to my bedroom to collect a larger blanket to share. The Hobs followed me, slithering about on their gnarled limbs. I wasn't ready to face the world or its challenges yet. I'd curl up with Rorick by the fire for as long as we still could. Then I'd take him to my sisters. We'd explain what was happening and recruit their help.

Inside my bed chamber, the standing mirror was no longer facing the wall. Its appearance, turned outward, brought me up short. I was certain Rorick had left it facing the wall the last time we were in here.

"Did you move the mirror?" I asked the Hobs.

"Hob, Hob, Hob," the creatures chimed.

At the moment, there was nothing inside the mirror but my own reflection. A shiver shot down my spine. I couldn't stand looking at it, so I fetched one of the blankets and lifted it to throw it over the standing mirror.

My reflection moved. Her hand shot out, straight through the glass. She grabbed me hard around the wrist and yanked.

"Rorick!" I screamed as I stumbled forward, dropping the blanket behind me.

The Hobs let out an eerie shriek of their own. The sound followed me into the looking-glass.

The mirror rippled like water, and I fell headfirst into darkness. For a moment I felt weightless. I floated there, tethered at the wrist to my own reflection. A gasp caught in my throat. My lungs froze, unable to take in a breath or expel one. I felt something under my feet first. Vertigo gripped me for a moment before the room seemed to right itself.

The dark fell away as my eyes adjusted to the poorly-lit space I stood in. It was a makeshift hall made of propped-up boards and dressing blinds, the kind one might find in a theater for actors to change costumes behind.

"Hecate," I hissed. She was dressed like me, black hair in a braid over her shoulder. Her cloak was gone. We were so alike she'd fooled me into thinking she was my reflection.

"It's dark in here, dear," she said, pulling her cane out of the pocket of her skirt despite not being in her crone form. "Do you mind?"

"Yes, I bloody mind," I snapped at her, but I did as she suggested anyway because she was right. It was too dim to see well.

I fished my hat out of my pocket first, then held it aloft. "We need some light, friends."

Lightning beetles poured out from the brim. A swarm of them circled Hecate, covering her in a blue glow that made her appear haunted. More of the insects did the same to me. Gilbert climbed out. He made a quick sweep of the hall, highlighting numerous framed mirrors before coming to perch on my shoulder.

"What's that?" I moved to examine the mirror behind me. It looked directly into my bedroom. "That's disconcerting," I grumbled, glaring over at the woman whom I'd thought was my mother for most of my life.

"There's more of them here." She pointed at another frame that hung along the makeshift wall. Above it, striped canvas stretched the ceiling.

"You brought me to the circus!"

"Well," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "it didn't look like either of you were getting here on your own."

"Take me back," I ordered.

"Your bossing doesn't work on me, Quiet. The answer is no."

"Then I'll take myself back," I grumped, turning sharply, skirts swishing around my ankles.

The next mirror brought me pause. Looking through the glass, I was staring directly into Eckert Castle, up on the second floor. I could see just over the banister, down into the foyer. Straight across from the mirror was a painting, an image of young Rorick in riding gear.

"They're spying on us," I said. At the castle, we'd heard sporadic sounds of circus music. That all made sense now.

"The ringleader has been spying, yes," Quiet said. "If you'd like to do away with him finally before he gets ahold of Rorick at last, then let's get to it."

"I'm not doing anything without my partner," I snapped.

"Shh," Hecate hissed. Her hand clamped back around my wrist. She squeezed it so tight my fingers went numb. I tried to shake it off, but she was surprisingly strong.

I was about to protest, and then I heard the echo of footsteps nearing. I waved the beetles closer to us. They landed on our shoulders and dimmed their lights.

"Get your wand ready," she whispered just as a gaslight flamed on somewhere on the other side of the dividers. The shadow of a man was cast across the ceiling.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose on end, but I did as she instructed. I didn't want to trust Hecate. This was the woman who'd murdered Rorick, for crying out loud, but she was also the only god in our lives with any interest in stopping the cycle she'd started. I believed her when she insisted she wanted to make right what she'd done.

I believed her—selfish and foolish though it likely was—when she said she cared about me.

I fisted the pearl handle of my dagger-wand. "There's about to be a confrontation," I warned Gilbert.

He dived back into my open hat as I slid it down over my brow.

"I'm going to talk with the ringleader, Sebastian," she said softly. "Watch him carefully. He's not just an ichor. He's a servant of Death as well. He's been alive a long time, so he won't be easily fooled. He has the final piece to the lantern that we need. Stay here until I've got it. Then I'll give you the signal."

"The signal for me to do what?" I hissed.

"Curse him!" she fired back. "Curse him with all you've got."

I had no less than one thousand more questions demanding answers from her, but she pulled away from me, striding out from behind the makeshift walls and dressing dividers.

"Hecate," Sebastian said in greeting like he was expecting her. "Did you bring him?"

I found a crack in the space between the boards, and I peered through it. I could see his profile from here. He was dressed in his burgundy suit, the same one I'd seen him in when I watched him play the steam organ somewhere in these same tents. He carried a strange, thin spike in his hand. It looked like a weapon one might use to murder a vampire. Necromancers used them.

"Rorick is likely on his way here now. Are you ready?" she asked him.

"We're ready," he said. "They know to listen to you."

We ? I wanted to demand.

"Give me the handle, and I'll deliver Rorick with all his god-blessed blood right to you," she said. "You'll no longer have to serve Death here, keeping the lost specters entertained and out of trouble. They'll go home at last, and you'll be free of them."

He cast a look around, and I ducked down out of sight, afraid he'd spot me. Slowly, I crept back to the hole in the wood. Sebastian pulled something metal out of the inner pocket of his jacket, and he handed it over.

Hecate took the metal piece. "Now, Quiet!" she shouted.

I leapt out from my hiding space, wand at the ready, a curse on my tongue.

Sebastian spun toward me. His face was painted like a clown's, red nose and lips with a heavily powdered complexion. The skin beneath his face at his neck was mottled and moldy. Ichor skin.

Behind him, Hecate raised her cane. The ethereal illusion dropped from it, revealing the sharpened end of a hooked scythe—her wand. She ran him through with it. The blade pierced his chest. He looked down at the crimson-stained tip, lips gaping, eyes wide as saucers.

Hecate yanked free the scythe with a sickening sound, and the ringleader collapsed.

I sprinted toward the dying man who rolled onto his back and coughed blood. The spike fell from his fingers and clattered onto the floor.

"What have you done?" I demanded.

"Weren't you listening?" Hecate said, remorseless. "He plans to drain Rorick dry, just so he won't have to finish his term working for Death to earn his wings. He thinks he can just steal what he wants using that sacrificial dagger there. He's no better than Alex was, really."

"Or you," I fired back. Whatever the ringleader was, death was a waste. I had no tolerance for it when it could be avoided. "Have you learned nothing after Death cursed you the first time for what you did to his reaper!" I shouted at her.

"Death was upset that I successfully avoided serving him, not that I'd harmed a reaper in the process," Hecate said flatly. "And Sebastian's not dead yet."

I turned over my hat and shook it. "Girls," I called, "work quickly."

Anita and a dozen scar-weaver spiders dropped from my hat, landing soundlessly on his chest. Sebastian gurgled up at me as they set to work, crawling into his mouth and under his wound.

"Don't try to talk," I commanded. "This won't be pleasant for you, but at least you'll live."

"He'll live, and he'll owe you a debt," Hecate said, slowly feeding her blood-soaked scythe into the pocket of her skirt. "He doesn't have his wings yet, but he's bound by debts like any other god would be."

Beetles fluttered around us, glittering like blue stars, lighting the way as the spiders wove their magic into his injuries, healing him. Hecate scooped up the spike from the ground, examining it.

Sebastian clutched his chest, glaring up at Hecate. His jacket was ruined with blood. When the girls were finished with him, I aimed my wand at his face.

His palms fell open in surrender. "What do you want?"

"The driver you impersonated the last time I saw you—his name is Walter. What'd you do to him?"

"Nothing," he started to say.

I didn't believe him. I dug the dagger into his chin, drawing more of his blood.

Sebastian yelped. "I gave him something to eat! He ate it and passed out. By now he's slept it off and will be no worse for wear!"

"That had better be true," I warned him.

"I was never going to take all of Rorick's blood—"

"Liar," Hecate interrupted him. "He wanted every drop for himself, every ounce of power and strength."

With a swish of my wand, I cursed him into a spider. He was brown and smaller than the scar-weavers who'd saved his life. "That's better."

Hecate rolled her eyes. "You could have made use of him. He owed you a favor."

"But I could never trust him," I said. "I can't really trust any of you gods, now, can I? Never fully."

Sebastian ran in a frantic circle, tripping over his many legs. Then he stopped and stared up at me with all of his beady eyes.

"Serves you right," I told him. "Now get out of here before Hecate decides to step on you. I won't save you twice."

Sebastian scurried off, out of sight.

"Don't waste your magic," she said. "You're going to need it."

"Why?" I asked. "We've got the lantern handle, and the ringleader is finished."

The answer to my own question revealed itself to me. The tent filled with ghostly clowns. Though their faces were painted and some wore bright wigs, they were children. Small and youthful and sad, wearing over-sized clothing and big shoes.

"Is this the ‘we' the ringleader was talking about before?" I asked. Then I gulped because there were so many ghosts they filled the tent, a sea of lost children as far as my eyes could comprehend.

"Do you have the lantern on you?" Hecate said.

I fished it out, along with the wick and candle, and I handed them to her. Hecate held the sacrificial blade under her arm, then put the pieces together. She allowed me to attach the handle myself. It slid into place with a sharp scratch of metal against metal.

I swallowed as I took the lantern from her. The magic was so thick I could smell the cloying scent coming off of it. The scent of Death.

"If I give this back to Dominion, would he . . ." I was afraid to finish the thought.

"It would be the bravest thing you'd ever done. Making this right is our last hope."

"Then why haven't you given it back to him after all this time?"

"Because I want him to owe you a favor, not me," Hecate explained. She pulled out her timepiece and opened it. One last hand remained. It spun so fast about the glass face that I heard it whirling. "I wish I could tell you what happens after you present it to Dominion, but I can't. So many lifetimes lived, but I've never gotten this far before in any of them."

I licked my lips. "Is Rorick really coming here?"

She nodded. "He heard you yell for him. He's noticed by now that you're not at home. I don't think it'll take him long to figure out where to go."

"I don't think so either. You were adamant that we come and face the ringleader here the last time we saw you," I said, pushing stubborn strands of jet hair out of my face, balancing the heavy lantern one-handed.

"We're the only ones who can give that lantern back to Dominion. And it's the only way these children are ever getting to their rest. I'm the one who deserves to pay the consequences, but it's up to Dominion what happens next."

My chin began to tremble. "If I die here and now . . ."

Understanding shimmered in her familiar gray eyes. "We lose our love even in death. We can't stand back and let this curse continue. We have to stop the cycle here and now if we want to be with them."

A sob broke through, tightening my throat. I fought to hold more of them back. "I have to see him again."

"I know," she said softly. "Believe me, I do." She crossed to me, standing so close we were nose to nose. "You're the best parts of us, Quiet. I truly believe that. I know I haven't always been very warm to you, but it's hard. It's hard to get too close knowing I might have to watch you—"

"Die?" I coughed a laugh that lacked humor.

"I wanted to be closer to you. I know it's silly to say, but . . . I'm proud of you. Truly. You're exactly who I wish I'd been. Wise and thoughtful. Powerful and kind."

I'd waited so long to hear those words from her. Now they clotted in my throat, and I struggled to swallow around them. My heart dropped into my boots.

The sea of children parted then, creating a space that led off into the dark, through a narrow passage.

My mouth was parched. "But Rorick is coming now—"

"I know what Rorick will say if you wait for him. I'd wager you know as well. He won't let you give that lantern back, and I'm not even strong enough to stop him if he takes you from here. A psychopomp has one duty in this world. Rorick won't want Dominion to finish the task he came here for. There's no reason to talk it over with him when you already know what he'll do." Hecate moved closer, my spitting image except for a wisdom in her eyes, an agelessness, and a tension in her shoulders that spoke of how exhausted she was.

"If I don't, I'll lose Rorick. If I do . . . I might lose Rorick." My chin dropped. I hung my head.

She pressed her lips to my brow. "I'm not going to make you do it. Not if you don't want to. Not if you don't think it's right the same way I do."

Her kiss burned my skin. A touch of affection from the mother I'd never had, a tenderness I'd always craved. It made my eyes sting.

"Will you come with me?" I asked, and my voice cracked.

She nodded. "I will stay with you to the very end, through the Nothing and beyond. You'll never be alone even for a moment."

"And if it all goes wrong, promise me you won't stop trying to fix it. No matter what. No matter how many lifetimes it takes."

Hecate's smile crinkled the corners of her gray eyes. "I won't ever stop trying to fix it. You have my word."

I tucked my hat away into my void. Hecate took my hand in hers, and she led the way through the tunnel of ghost children, into the main tent. The amphitheater was full of more ghostly clowns. They stared at me, their pleading dead eyes spurring me onward.

In the center ring stood an empty grave, earth piled high at its side. A tombstone carrying my name headed it. The letters were carved into the stone backward. The stone was blurry around the edges and made of something ethereal.

I hesitated when I saw it, and Hecate stopped, waiting on me to gather myself.

"Let's get this over with," I said, clutching Hecate's hand a bit harder.

We entered the center ring, and Dominion appeared at the foot of the empty grave. He reached out for the lantern, a rare smile on his face. But somehow the smile made him look even more frightening.

I sent one last worried look over to Hecate, and then I crossed to Dominion by myself and returned his lantern.

"I'm sorry," I said, working the words past a lump in my throat. "We're both sorry for the trouble we've caused you."

Dominion took the lantern gently from me, and the candle flickered to life. A bright blue glow emanated from it, similar in shade to my light beetles.

I backed slowly away from the grave someone had dug for me in this plot of land that had once been a cemetery. This was likely where my body should have been laid to rest when I was a seven-year-old girl destined to freeze to death in the woods. I backed up until I felt Hecate behind me.

She put a hand on my shoulder. I was grateful for the support.

A whistle rent the air, the sound like a train coming into a station somewhere far away.

The ghostly children joined their psychopomp. They began refilling the hole in the earth, and as they worked, the gravestone flickered, the illusion weakening.

When the grave was filled, the specters stomped on the earth, smoothing out the lumps, packing it down. Dominion lifted the lantern high, and it brightened, illuminating the ring. Job finished, a cheer rang out. The collected sound of the children's sudden excitement was so loud I felt their applause pounding through my chest and surging in my pulse.

Hecate's hand dug into my shoulder as Dominion brought the blue light closer.

The light hit the image of the grave, and the illusion fell away, fading like fog caught in a strong wind. In its place sat a massive standing mirror framed in ornate metalwork that had gone green with age. I could see myself and Hecate reflected in it, but Dominion nearby had no reflection at all. His glowing lantern hovered there in the glass as though it floated on its own.

The children rushed the mirror, falling into a jumbled queue of ghostly bodies. The glass rippled like water, and one by one the children stepped through it, finally entering the Nothing to find their peace.

A child hung back. The older child who had once been the clown with purple hair. He waved at me, and his mouth tugged up at the corner.

"Thank you," I told him.

He nodded, then ran straight into the mirror with all his might. He struck the rippling glass so hard it shook.

On and on the children went until the amphitheater emptied at last. Only Dominion and Hecate remained. The psychopomp looked at me. His other eyes were painted over, but I knew they were there. I felt the weight of them. I didn't know what else I could say, so I said nothing.

We stared at each other in a silence that was growing painful. If this psychopomp decided to collect me finally, after all these years, how could I stop him?

Could Hecate?

Would she? I doubted that somehow.

Would I get to at least see Rorick again, one more time? He deserved to know what had happened to me. I wanted to tell him the children were finally at peace at least. My fingers dug at my skirts anxiously.

I wanted to tell Rorick how much I loved him. How lonely any ever after would be until he was there with me.

"Please let me speak to Rorick first," I said, the words tumbling past my lips. "If you must take me, let me explain to him."

Dominion shone his lantern upon me. The light was bright, so bright I couldn't see beyond it, but it didn't hurt my eyes.

Without another word, Dominion turned to face the mirror, lowering his lantern. He stepped through it, and the glass stopped rippling.

I blinked at the space where'd he'd stood, confused. After a long while, I shuffled closer. Hecate moved with me. Together we peered into the mirror, but there was nothing there but our reflections.

Dominion was gone.

"Is . . . is that it?" I asked her.

The ground shook under our feet. Something was coming. Something big. So big their movement reverberated up through my boots. The tents shook above our heads.

"Get your wand out, and your hat, and summon all your assistants," Hecate said. Then she pressed the sacrificial spike into my open hand. "And take this, too. Stab anything that comes at you. It's very effective against the undead."

"What are they? What's coming?" I demanded.

"Ichors," Hecate said. "All of them."