Chapter 10

D eath's face was grim as a spirit floated slowly into her ebirlloba—the realm of the dead. The soul screamed with pain. Even separated from his human body, Grant was filled with shock and a sense of hopelessness that tugged at Death's heart. In a few short months, Chander would cast the spell to add new fallen knights to the Council.

In his current state, Grant was nowhere near ready. Death worried that without aid, he'd never match up with the parameters of the Arch Lich's spell. While Grant had unfinished business with his mate, his courage and hope had withered away. Thankfully, Death had recently gained resources.

With no more than a thought, Death brought Grant's soul to her. Instead of allowing him to flow into an ethereal form to travel around the ebirlloba , she encapsulated him in a bubble that stopped the shrieking of disbelief and horror. Death shrank the tiny sphere and put it in a pocket in her dress. With a pat to what was left of Grant, Death teleported to her castle.

In the Great Hall, she found Eternity.

"I can tell from your face something momentous has happened," Eternity stated without preamble.

"Reginald murdered Grant."

Eternity sighed. "I know you believed that was inevitable, but I hoped for better."

"That bastard is already formulating a plan to ensure no one ever finds Grant's body," Death said. "The only other person who would miss Grant is his Aunt Florrie, yet I doubt she'll invest the time to find the answers she needs."

"A sad ending for a troubled man. But honestly, I'm far more concerned with his future than his past. Roman deserves his other half."

Death plucked Grant's soul from her pocket and allowed it to float in the air in front of the smoky black fire in the hearth. "Touch it."

A heavy sigh fell from Eternity's lips as she cupped the ball in her hand. "He gave up so long ago. Grant didn't have love or security. Reginald is a predator and understood how easily he could manipulate Grant. Fallen knights are plucked from stalwart souls that have had the chance to process the complications of their previous lives."

"If we don't want Roman to have to wait years for Grant to heal, we must act decisively. We need to find Courage. His is missing. She can aid him in finding it again. I sense, given the right environment, he has it in droves."

A redhead with furious blue eyes charged into the room.

"That asshat killed Grant," Fate shouted.

"Did you think I wouldn't know?" Death asked incredulously. "Do keep up, dear sister, I already have him."

"Of course I knew you had him. I'm angry, and I want justice for him."

Death snorted. "Good luck. Justice is too fond of my fallen knights to bother humans. They have worked too hard to put distance between themselves and the Council."

"Some areas of humanity really need to be fixed," Fate complained. Then she waved a careless hand through the air. "But that is Folly's problem. Humans were her idea. Why she deprived them of so many gifts is a mystery I'll never understand. I can't offer them mates; magic kills them. Who does that to a race?"

"A goddess hellbent on destruction and evil," Eternity growled. Folly was notorious for her many crimes against the rules their mother had crafted, but the stealthy goddess had been eluding capture and punishment for years.

"We'll worry about Folly another day," Death said. "The moment she is located, she'll be forced to the Tier'llomen . I imagine it will take many human days to list her offenses. It will be good to have her floating among the undead once her life is forfeited. For now, we must focus on Grant."

"Have a touch," Eternity told Fate as she handed Grant's soul over. Thanks to Death's spell, Grant wasn't just trapped in a pretty black sphere. His feelings were also arrested, so he would no longer suffer from the complicated mix of emotions that had filled him as he entered the ebirlloba .

"Oh dear," Fate murmured. She closed her eyes. "Deep down in his heart, I can feel the mate Roman needs. But that man is trapped under years of placing his trust in the wrong person and the complicated circumstances of his entire sad life. Where do we start to mend him before Chander readies his spell to add fallen knights?"

"We were thinking we'd start with Courage," Eternity replied.

"Wonderful, she's easy to find," Fate said. "Let's go to Justice's armory. No doubt both of them are there sharpening swords or whatever it is they do all day."

"Like the warriors they like to create or mold, they spar, dear sister," Death retorted. "Give me Grant's soul. It must stay here."

"Oh, right, I forgot. If his soul crosses the threshold between the ebirlloba and the land of the living, we have no idea what will happen," Fate remarked.

Death created a waist-high pillar complete with a thick cushion where she carefully rested Grant's sphere. With a smile, Eternity slung her arm through Death's, and together they followed Death out of the castle.

"Odd that Mother didn't explain why a soul can't cross," Fate commented as they passed into the bright palace.

"I expect they will be destroyed," Eternity said. "Magic is so rich in the air; it would bombard them with more than they can handle."

"A good assumption," Death responded. "That was my conclusion as well."

Fate rolled her eyes. "Of course it was; you two have always been far too similar in your thoughts."

They quickly wound through the palace, and Fate lifted her skirts before she stepped into the gleaming armory Justice called home. The heavy clang of weapons filled the air as Justice and Courage fought as if war were imminent. Justice had an enormous gold sword, while Courage had opted for a flail and shield.

"Courage," Fate called out.

Neither Courage nor Justice bothered to glance in their direction. Instead, Justice glared at Courage and slammed her blade into the silver shield nearly as tall as both ladies.

"Great," Fate grumbled. "They're ignoring me. Anyone good with a bow and arrow? Maybe we could shoot one of them."

"I have a better idea," Death said. With a grin, she created a thick black cloud that grew as it spiraled toward the combatants.

Curses filled the air, and Death laughed.

"You are far from amusing," Justice roared. "Clear the skies, Death."

Death did as she was told and lifted a red brow at the frowning blonde. "Before you lecture me, we need your attention for an urgent matter. We have Grant's soul."

Justice stabbed her sword into the ground. "Care for it until Chander is ready. What else are we to do?"

"He needs help," Eternity explained. "Nearly every ounce of courage in him has been thwarted by years of being controlled."

"Of course you have my help," Courage responded instantly as her flail and shield disappeared. "I can enrich what he has lost, and it will flourish until Chander casts his spell."

"Wonderful, we have a plan for his courage," Fate said, then turned to Death with a gleam in her eye. "Now we must fix his hopelessness."

"Oh no," Death retorted. "I am not dealing with Hope."

"I know how you feel about her, but Grant needs her," Eternity commented, pleading in her silvery gaze.

"Yes, okay, I will admit you are right," Death replied. She extricated her arm and stepped away from her sister. "But you do not need me to find her or ask for her assistance. It doesn't take a gaggle of goddesses to convince one of us to help a soul."

"We are in this together," Justice stated. "And we've decided Grant is to be a fallen knight. That race was your idea. He is yours. Let's act as a team to get him everything necessary to make him flourish."

"Now I remember why I prefer to keep to the company of my own castle," Death muttered.

Eternity returned to her side and took her arm again. "Come now, it won't be too bad."

"Well, I haven't talked to her in an age," Death replied. "I don't even know where to find her."

"She created a treehouse," Courage supplied. "It's not far from here."

"Can we really call it a treehouse?" Fate asked as Justice led them in a brisk walk out of the lists and into the hallway.

"How is that not correct?" Justice asked. "It is in a tree."

Death followed her sisters through a canopy of branches and immediately had the answer to Fate's question. The treehouse in question was high above the ground, but it was crafted of floating pink clouds. It suited a woman who preferred to sail away from any problem with her unreasonable faith that the future would handle everything, so she need not intervene.

Hope's desire to keep herself far removed from any complicated situation was why Death had long ago washed her hands of her sister. Nobody's life lacked obstacles, and Hope's inability to deal with reality grated on Death's nerves. But Grant needed his hope restored, and Roman deserved his mate to be whole.

"It's a bunch of clouds floating around a tree," Death remarked. "I'm with Fate. This is no treehouse."

"What would you call it then?" Courage asked.

"Ridiculous," Death retorted.

"Oh, look, visitors," a voice called out.

"Who is she talking to?" Fate whispered.

"Herself, no doubt," Death muttered.

A woman emerged from behind a few clouds with hair the same pale pink as the fluffy orbs that made up her home. Except for a thick chunk hanging over her gray eyes, her tresses were pinned back by soft lavender flowers. She lifted an arm to wave, and Death wondered if her sister was aware that one of her sleeves was drooping because her dress had slipped off her shoulder.

Knowing Hope, she'd yet to notice. The woman was oblivious to almost everything.

"Death," Hope shouted as she hopped in place. Her light purple frock glittered in the abundant light she'd filled her sanctuary with. "How long has it been since we last spoke?"

"Not long enough," Death murmured under her breath and earned an elbow jab from Eternity.

Hope didn't walk. She glided toward them, and her dimples flashed as she smiled. "Can you stay for tea and cakes?"

"Sadly, no," Death said. She didn't care what her sisters thought…there was no way in any realm she was sitting down for a meal she didn't need to eat and spending hours with Hope. None of them required food or drink, but Hope had always enjoyed leisurely repasts that lasted forever. Death was an active goddess with too many duties to indulge in indolence. "We need your help. Can you come to the ebirlloba ?"

"Of course, dear. Give me a moment."

"Where is she going?" Fate asked, as if anyone knew why Hope had shimmered away.

Seconds later, Hope reappeared with a large basket. "I thought to enjoy my picnic in the ebirlloba . I've enough for everyone to join me."

Death growled and pinned each of her sisters with a murderous glare. If the past was anything to go by, it'd take days to pry Hope out of her castle. If someone else had brought her there to tend to Grant, Death could have avoided her and made her home so unwelcoming that no one would linger.

"A fine idea," Fate said, beaming at Hope. "I'm sure we'll have a marvelous time."

Hope floated past Death, allowing the goddess of the afterlife to narrow her eyes at Fate. She lifted a hand and made a slashing motion across her neck. Fate would be punished for encouraging Hope to bring her damn basket. The realm of the dead was beautiful thanks to its inhabitants, but that didn't mean Death wanted goddesses lounging in her realm, eating food they didn't need. What Death wanted was solitude and only those who'd recently grown dear to her in her home. Hope was not on that list.

"We can have a quick picnic," Justice stated unequivocally. "Death has responsibilities and must attend to them. It would be poor manners for her to leave guests unattended in her castle, so if anyone wishes to extend their meal, they should return here to Hope's treehouse."

Death was so pleased she blew her sister an air kiss.

"An excellent notion," Courage added.

"Of course, everyone is always welcome here," Hope said. "I so rarely get visitors."

"I can't imagine why," Death grumbled.

"Behave," Eternity admonished softly as they followed a chattering Hope toward the ebirlloba . Death wasn't pleased that she'd have to sit through tea and cakes, but she would sacrifice whatever was necessary to ensure the best among her souls had what they needed. Roman and Grant deserved a fair shot at their matebond. Death had to trust—dare she say, have hope —that Fate had paired them correctly.

Even if Fate was wrong, Grant would make a damn fine fallen knight. Death would see to it, and she refused to fail.