River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)(64)

“You’re fine,” he says to me, nodding at my attire. “It’s a walk through the castle. I’m afraid I can’t do anything about the weather at the moment…” He lets it trail off, as if I’m able to do something about the weather. My god, what if Bell was right?

I stand there, frozen in place, staring at him. Today he’s back to wearing his flowing robe and his skull is more simple, a human one with jagged bones growing out of the top to form a crown, but I can’t feel his eyes the way I normally do. I can’t read anything off him at all except his usual aura of authority.

“You don’t have to come,” he says after a moment, his tone softening. “I only figured you’d been in here for days. Not locked in here, as I’m sure you just realized, but inside this room nonetheless.”

I lick my parched lips, finally finding my voice. “Why was the door unlocked?”

He folds his arms across his chest. “I wanted to see if you’d run. You didn’t even try to fly, little bird,” he adds in a whisper.

“It would be pointless, wouldn’t it?” I counter. “You’ve told me time and time again that there’s no way I can escape. That the walls and wards will keep me in, that the realm would probably kill me.”

“Yes. But probably isn’t definitely. And you’re someone who will grab hold of whatever hope there is.”

“You sound disappointed,” I say. “I guess I should get used to disappointing you.”

There. Now I feel him. I feel the change in his energy, and though his posture hasn’t changed at all, it’s like he slumps internally. The wind outside these walls wails in response. Death has walls just as any of us do, just as this castle does, and they aren’t always impenetrable.

That little bit of information gives me a lot. It gives me the hope he just said I’d hold on to.

“You don’t disappoint me,” he says gruffly, his demeanor changing again. He clears his throat. “Okay, perhaps you do a little. I thought there would be more fight in Hanna Heikkinen. This is the mortal who defeated my Goddess daughter, who stole her boat and wielded her sword, slaughtered the Swan of Tuonela. There will be poems and rune songs sung about you, like a legend. I want to see that girl. I want her to spar with me, to fight me, to show bravery and defiance.”

He walks across the room to me, his steps slow, his boots echoing. He stops right in front of me and peers down and I see his gray eyes peering at me brightly in the dark shadows, like a silver star.

“I do defy you,” I tell him, raising my chin. “But I don’t wish to die. And I don’t think either of us know what you want from me just yet.”

“I think I’ve made it clear,” he says brusquely.

“Then if you want it, take it,” I tell him. “I can’t stop you.”

He cocks his head. “But you have stopped me. That’s the thing.”

His gaze holds me hostage and I don’t know how much time is ticking past or if it’s standing still, as it’s known to do.

Then he reaches out and grabs my hand with his. His gauntlets look like leather, but they feel like the softest fur. “Let me take you somewhere you’d like,” he says, giving my hand a squeeze I feel in my toes. “To the Library of the Veils.”

Okay, now he has my interest. Truthfully, I would have gone anywhere, just to get out of my room. I realize there’s a chance he’s still planning to murder me, but I’d rather die somewhere different, I guess. Surrounded by books sounds like a good way to go.

I nod and give him a tight smile, and even though I don’t look at Bell as I walk past, I can feel her trying to ask for more sunshine.

“I figured you like books,” Death says to me as we walk out of my room and down the hall. The castle is a little brighter than normal, thanks to the light bouncing off the white snow outside and filtering through the old windows.

“You figured I like books?” I repeat. “This is starting to sound like small talk.”

“There is no small talk with you, fairy girl,” he says, his hand releasing mine and sliding up to my elbow where he takes a firmer hold. “Everything you say is like a double-edged sword.” His skull tilts, glancing down at me. “You know, I never thought a mere mortal would fascinate me as much as you do, but here we are. I just can’t seem to figure you out. You’re frighteningly complex.”

I burst out laughing. I feel like I haven’t laughed for days, and the sound is foreign to my ears.

“Me? Complex?” I scoff. “Right. Okay. You want to know how complex I am? I’m a social media manager for a clothing company that marks up twenty-dollar coats which I convince people to buy for five hundred. I live in North Hollywood, in a shared house, as do most other working young professionals, surrounded by succulents and surfboards. I take capoeira on Wednesday nights, I go to a local bar and drink margaritas on Fridays. My favorite food is ramen, I don’t have a cat but I love cat videos, I wear all the sweaters as soon as September hits even when it’s eighty degrees outside, and I don’t care if people know I love pumpkin spice lattes. I watch anime but I watch anime porn more, and I scroll through TikTok to help me fall asleep at night, even though it makes me buy candles and crystals and crochet supplies that I never use. I am not complex. I am what they call a basic bitch. I just happen to be a basic bitch in the Realm of the Dead. And maybe that’s what you find fascinating.”