River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)(49)

I slowly blink, my stomach sinking. “But you…originally you were into him, were you not?”

She laughs dryly, the sound echoing off the glass of the tank. “I was. I’m a mermaid. And he is the king. The ruler of the land. There is something…undeniably sexy about that.”

I make a face, which makes her laugh again. “I take it you haven’t seen him without his mask on,” she says.

“Mask?” I repeat, leaning in. “He’s wearing a mask? I thought he was just a skull.”

“It’s a mask,” she says. “He has many of them. He wears them outside the castle to instill respect and fear in anyone in Tuonela, but especially the City of Death. After all, he has a reputation to uphold. He wants the newly dead to fear him so that they behave. He also wants the Stragglers to fear him too, but that’s another story.”

“What are the Stragglers? I keep hearing them mentioned.”

“They’re the original dead. When Death was brought in to rule the land, and lift it out of Kaaos, the dead had the choice to either join the new afterlife in the City of Death, or stay behind. A lot stayed behind, fearing their lives in the City would be worse. Some of them may have been right. Maybe a lot of them, because Inmost is a horrific place, and most of them deserved to be in that place for all the things they’d done. So in other words, the worst of the worst opted to stay behind in Tuonela. Some say they’re plotting an uprising against Death, some say that they’re under control of Louhi.”

“Who is Louhi?”

She gives me an incredulous look.

“I’m sorry,” I explain. “I literally know nothing.”

“Louhi,” she says softly, as if she’s afraid of being overheard. “Is the Goddess of Death. Or the ex-Goddess of Death.”

“Death’s wife?”

“Ex-wife. They separated long ago. She ran off to the Star Swamps with Ilmarinen, a shaman, and built a new home there. No one has seen her in years. Even Lovia doesn’t see her and I don’t think Tuonen, her brother, does either. Some say she’s also a witch, but she’s always been part demon, and that part is the one you’ll know her by.”

Again, so many questions, but I know I have to let some go for now.

As if reading my mind, Bell licks her lips and says, “I don’t think Death realizes I’m still alive and still here, so I would appreciate it if you don’t mention me. When Raila is here, don’t talk to me. Or look at me. Or mention me. Just pretend I don’t exist. Otherwise I’m afraid he’ll take me away, or worse.” She shudders, perhaps picturing herself being eaten as fish food.

“I can do that,” I tell her. “I don’t want you taken away. So, I can’t trust Raila?”

She makes a so-so motion with her hands. “You can trust her in that she won’t hurt you and she won’t purposely go and tell anything to Death. But he is her master so under oath, she may blab. On the other hand, there are rumors that one of the Deadmaidens is part of the uprising. It might be her. Might not be. Best to just keep your mouth shut when it comes to important matters.”

I look away at the room, at my prison for the next while. Perhaps forever. It’s not awful. But you know, I’d rather not be here forever.

“What does Death want from me?” I ask after a few moments pass.

“I can’t say for sure,” Bell muses, “but I think he gets lonely.”

I give her a steady look, brow raised. “Lonely? Death gets lonely? How could he lonely, when he’s got a constant influx of people to deal with?”

“Everyone dies. Everyone goes to the City of Death. But he doesn’t live there, he lives here. He’s forever their ruler, their overlord. He can’t befriend them. He has to make do with what he has here. I think that’s what his problem is. He just has a funny way of dealing with it. Sometimes a cruel way of dealing with it.” She sighs, her attention to the window, lost to her thoughts.

Finally she looks back to me. “But in the end, if you want your freedom, you have to make him love you, and if you can’t make him do that, at least make him want you around. I know it seems counterproductive, but if you do, he’ll give you all the freedom in the world. And I know there’s some prophecy about Death falling in love again. Maybe you could play into that?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “No. First of all, I’m not that good of an actress.”

“Not even if your life depends on it?”

My mouth opens and closes again. When she puts it that way… “Second of all, he’s Death. I don’t think Death can fall in love.”

“Why not? There’s no curse that says he can’t. He probably loved Louhi at some time before she went full-on evil.”

“Well then, they should have been a match made in heaven.”

“Death isn’t evil,” she says.

I raise my palm. “Do not tell me he’s just misunderstood.”

She gives me a sly grin. “That’s too cliché, as you mortals would say. If he’s misunderstood, I think it’s by mortals themselves. Lovia has told me the stories about the Grim Reaper; they all sound like fantasy to me. No, Death is just a God, like any other God. And they love and they lose and they hate and they cry. I know Death fairly well and there’s no emotion that he’s unable to feel…it’s just that his role has made the emotion more or less obsolete.”