by J. C. Nelson
My skin crawled at her words. “I don’t want anything but him. I don’t want some serial killer’s soul. I just want Liam back.”
“You say that like I’d give you the soul as is. A couple of times through the wash, and it would be perfectly new. If I told you the things that have happened between hotel sheets you’ve slept on, you’d be ill. You could have children—”
I stood up, cutting her off. “No deal. You bring him back, I’ll do it. Let me know if you change your mind.”
She nodded and rose as well, extending a hand I didn’t take. “My offer stands as well. I want you to think beyond yourself, of the people trapped here. Your pain and sorrow will have an end, but several billion lives can neither end nor continue.”
I left her there, carefully adjusting chairs.
• • •
THERE ARE NO words to describe the alleys of sorrow or darkness I wandered. Lost in a maze of gray, without a way forward or backward, I walked beyond knowledge, finding tears at some turns, and anger at others.
The repetitive rhythm of footfalls gave me an outlet, allowed me to sail through grief, until I finally reached a decision. One that hurt to think of, felt like a new betrayal. And with a clarity of purpose, my feet led me back to the Agency, back up the stairs.
Death saw me come through the doors first, and nodded.
I strode down the hallway to Grimm’s office, nearly hitting the Fae Mother with the door when I barged in. Behind me, the soft patter of feet heralded Death joining us.
Grimm had the good sense to keep his mouth shut, until I’d taken a seat. Then I leaned forward, put my hands on his desk, and looked him in the eyes. “How can I kill the Black Queen?”
Thirty
GRIMM CLEARED HIS throat. I looked over my shoulder to see Eli and Nickolas had joined us. “My daughter has expended all of a fairy’s power quelling the world. She is weak. But as a half fairy, she has retreated to her demesne.”
Now I understood. Though Fairy Godmother’s power was gone, Isolde had her own demesne. Nothing could reach her there. Not another fairy, for sure, and probably nothing else.
“Marissa, with the permission of the other fairies, I have collected every bit of magic in existence. You will take it with you into her demesne. And there, you will wish her dead.” Grimm’s voice echoed in the silence.
“You can’t set magic against magic.” This sounded like a terrible idea.
Grimm shook his head. “Not true. With the amount of magic I will give you, you could wish me dead. You must enter her demesne, and there, wish. I will do the rest.”
“I can’t control magic.”
“No, but you can ask, and I can act in response. Consider this a more direct form of wish making.” Grimm put his hands behind his back. “This is your world, Marissa. I can act only in response to your decisions.”
“I’m not doing this because of you.” I watched Grimm until he acknowledged me with a nod, then I turned to Eli. “Or for your boss. I’m doing this because I want to. All of you, out.”
When they left, I closed the door.
Grimm waited with his eyes downcast. “Marissa—”
“Don’t. I’m nobody’s puppet. I’m not some perfect slave to do your bidding. I don’t know what I am.” I kept my back to him, leaning my head up against the door. “I decide what I do. I decide what I wish for.”
He walked around the desk, soft sounds of feet on carpet, then rested his hand on my shoulder. “Of course, my dear. Though I have told the others that you will wish the Black Queen dead, whatever your wish, I give you my word I will honor it.”
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Anything?”
“Of course. Once you are in her demesne, the magic will belong to you. Your wish will be my command.” He knew what I was thinking. And accepted it. “Anything. Now, I have a plan to get you to her. It requires a ritual—”
“No.” I closed my eyes. “I know you are there. Probably watching with a smug smile. I need help.” When I opened my eyes, the Authority sat at Grimm’s desk. The look of shock on his face brought the first smile to my face, and a tinge of guilt for it.
“Death told me he has ways of reaching all humans. Is Isolde human or not?”
The Authority nodded. Someone rapped at the door twice, and I opened it, knowing who would be on the other side.
Death slipped past me and bowed his head. “Yes, ma’am?”
She pointed to me. “Death, you will take Marissa—”
The grin on his face reminded me of a small child at Christmas. He turned toward me, a look of glee on his face.
“—to Isolde’s demesne,” the Authority said, a disapproving frown on her face. “Grimm, have a seat. It’s time you and I discussed the laws of magic and your attempts to circumvent them. Marissa, shut the door on your way out. This isn’t a conversation you would survive.”
I glanced to Grimm, and he nodded toward the door. I couldn’t help being worried for him. I walked out of the office, closing the door behind me, and Death followed me to the kitchen. He reached out and patted my hand. “There. That’s the soul of that miserable prince. You know, I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to show you life beyond the veil.” Death opened the fridge and took out someone’s lunch.
“Lunch? Is it poisonous or something?” I recoiled, not wanting to touch the bag.
The look of exasperation on his face made me laugh. “I thought you might be hungry. I’m not allowed to take anyone but humans. So I didn’t think you and I would ever get to do this.”
A new thought grabbed me, one drenched with fear and driven by morbid curiosity. “What happens to me when I die?”
“I have no idea, but I promise I’ll stick around to find out. Could be that you float free, like a spirit. Or maybe you get absorbed back into Fairy Godfather. Can’t really say, never seen this before.” Death took a bag of chips out and tossed them to me.
“Where is Liam?” I spoke each word slowly, clearly.
“His body’s still nailed to the floor in the Court of Queens. His spirit is waiting to see what happens.” Death looked around, as if trying to spot something. “Love pins people here all the time. He just needs to see what happens to you, then he’ll move on. Though if I could get him to let go of that curse, he’d feel a lot better.”
Grimm told me curses dissolved when people died, unless you had the misfortune of getting ground up in a soul sieve. “It was supposed to die with him.”
Death began to gesture, almost talking with his hands. “Nah. Body’s wrapped around both of them, both of them leave the body. Normally, the curse would just dissipate. Instead, he’s holding on to that son of a bitch like it’s a life preserver. Really, it dies when he lets go.”
“Can I talk to Liam?” I couldn’t bring myself to look at him while I asked.
“No. I’m sorry, Marissa. I’d make an exception if I could, but it’s not up to me. Are you really going to wish the Black Queen dead?”
Something in his tone made me worried. “That’s the plan.”
“How well did killing her work last time? Look, it’s not my decision, but that woman’s got enough hate to last a thousand years or more. Seems like a shame for you go to all this trouble and fail.” Death stopped, and right when I thought he’d continue, someone knocked on the doorway.
Grimm stood there, his face pale and haggard, the edges of his suit frayed. “My dear, are you ready?”
I rose, and walked toward him. I couldn’t stop myself from giving him a hug. “So how do I carry all the magic in the world? You give me the world’s largest vial?”
Grimm shook his head. “I wouldn’t want it to be something that you could drop. Close your eyes.”
I did, feeling that gut-wrenching sensation that always came when he transported me. When I opened my eyes, I stood on the roof of our building. For the fi
rst time since the quell, wind stirred.
“Look.” He pointed into the distance, where something moved. A cloud, like a golden thunderstorm, boiled on the horizon. Then another, and another. In every direction, the sky went from gray to golden, and the wind whipped faster, harder.
Fear gripped me almost as strongly as his hands on my wrist, anchoring me against the hurricane as the sky turned bright golden, and waves of glitter washed down like a tornado, swirling around me, almost blowing me off the roof.
I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears until the gale passed.
The sky once again hung suspended, gray, and motionless. The rooftop looked like the freak storm had never happened. Then I glanced down.
Golden cloth covered every inch of me, like a magnificent wedding dress of gold, including a train that would make walking near impossible. I twirled in it, watching the magnificent cloth shimmer and ripple.
“Does it come in black?” At my words, the color rippled and became black like an oil slick, rainbows reflecting out as I breathed. Then I grinned and formed a new thought, and it responded. The ridiculous train shriveled up and the dress pressed in, divided, leaving me in a button-down business suit.
“It comes in every form and possibility in the universe. It is pure possibility, absolute power.” Grimm adjusted my collar, then brushed my shoulders. “All the magic on earth looks good on you, Marissa. Have you given thought to what you will do with it?”
I knew.
“I’m going to wish her dead.” To say the words made me sick and thrilled at the same time.
“Is that truly your desire? I know what it is your heart cries for.” Grimm hung his head.
But what I wanted wouldn’t help Ari, Wyatt, not even Mikey. “I know.”
The roof-access door opened, and Death stepped out. “Marissa, are you ready?”
“I think so.”
“Then come back downstairs. I took a look around, and there’s a problem.” Death let the door shut, and I sighed. Why couldn’t anything be easy?
We met in our conference room, the oddest collection of people I’d had the opportunity to meet with there, and that was saying a bit. Death motioned for me to take a seat.
“She has guards. Lots of guards, at the edges of her demesne. I can get you to the entrance, but once you reach it, you are going to be in severe trouble. These things aren’t alive, so I can’t take them. They’re like her abominations, only worse. I think you’d call them lychron?”
At his words, Grimm winced, Eli cursed under his breath, and even the Adversary crossed his arms and spat, burning a hole in the carpet.
I had no idea what they were, having never made it past volume C of the Beast Lexicon, but anything that disturbed angels, fae, and the devil himself couldn’t be fun.
“Take a corpse. Give it life. Allow it to hunger for things so unnatural that even demons dislike them, and you have a lychron, Marissa.” Grimm put his hand on my shoulder, failing completely to comfort me.
I glanced over to Eli. “I know you only help people who help themselves, but I’m trying. How about some backup?”
Eli nodded, and sat back in his chair, thinking. From time to time, he’d whisper with Nick. Finally, he sat up. “You got it. I’ll send a guardian with you. Michelle?” He looked up, as a form of wondrous beauty appeared. Brilliant black hair, olive complexion, and a gigawatt smile.
“Meet the archangel, Michelle.” Eli nodded toward her.
“I thought Michael—”
“Really? Are they still misspelling my name?” Her voice sounded like crystal ringing. “Do they get anything right?”
Nick leaned forward. “There’s one minor problem. See, I wouldn’t be comfortable with one of them going along with you in this kind of situation. Too much opportunity to do something that would unbalance the game we play. So, if you want to take one of them, you need to take one of my boys.”
He waved his hand, and a gout of flame exploded from the floor beside him. Nick kneeled down and put his head into it, yelling. “Anyone want to go with Marissa to kill a bunch of lychron?” When he leaned back, hellfire ran down his neck, and tiny wisps of smoke came from his ears.
From the fountain, a shape emerged. Long, spidery limbs that ended in claws, a hunched body with a head that swiveled like a wasp. Malodin. Prince of Inferno, son of Satan himself, and the demon who almost managed to bring about the end of the world. I’d caught him on a technicality twice, and probably wouldn’t ever be so lucky again.
“Marissa.” He spoke my name like fingernails down a chalkboard. “Still trying to sell a soul you don’t have? And Michelle. Miss me already?”
“That will do, boy.” Nick snapped his fingers, and the flames evaporated. “You want to take her, you need to take him. Fair is fair.”
The looks of rage between the guardian and the demon scorched the air between them. “You have got to be kidding me. Those two are going to kill each other, and quite possibly me too.”
“Possible.” Eli raised his palms.
“Let me help you out.” Nickolas Scratch reached into a pocket and pulled out a jar of orange light. “This here is a part of the infernal flame. I know you’ve played with hellfire, girl, but this ain’t that. This here is what I use to make hellfire. Comes right out of my backside every day like Old Faithful. You could torch everything between here and her demesne with that.” He handed me the bottle of liquid fire.
As my hand brushed his, the glowing spot that had been two souls jumped to his. Nick held on to one of the orbs and squeezed. And I swear it screamed, a voice of pure pain that echoed in my brain. “A trade,” said Nick. “Fair and square.”
“Now, Marissa,” said Eli, “I would think more than once before you take that. You shake hands with the devil and you will get burned.” He leaned across the table and held out his hand. “You want me to dispose of that?”
I looked him in the eye. “What are you offering me?”
Eli fidgeted and popped his knuckles. “Well, I don’t exactly have anything to offer you, except that warning.”
“Thanks, you two.” I closed my hand around the bottle and slipped it into my jacket pocket.
“Your funeral,” said Eli, but he smiled at me.
“No. I’ve decided not to take angels or demons with me, but I need to talk with Death, alone.” I waited as one by one they filed out, and then looked Death in the eye. “Tell War I decided to accept his gift.”
“He always knew you would, once you finally figured out who you were.” Death gave me a grin I wanted to smack off his face.
“I’m not a killer.”
“You are planning to fight your way into the Black Queen’s demesne, then wish her dead. Marissa, denial does not go well with black.” Death adjusted his shirt buttons, obviously ashamed by my fine attire.
If my plan worked, I’d be gone before the others came back. “So how does this work?”
“Just like for real. You choose to come with me.” Death rose and walked to the conference room door.
I followed him, then froze as he swung the door open, and absolute black stared back at me. Not darkness as in a cave. Nor the empty vacuum of space, which is still somewhere. Nothingness so dark it made my outfit look white. To say I froze would be an understatement.
Death took my hand and pulled gently. “The first step is always the hardest.”
Liam. Maybe he was out there, somewhere, waiting for me. I walked into oblivion without fear.
Thirty-One
OBLIVION FELT LIKE walking through a rainstorm. That constant buffeting, the feeling of cold that chilled me through. The only constant was Death’s grip on me. The burning cold force clenching my arm normally would have been terrifying. In this nothingness, however, I clung to him, taking comfort in his grip as we rode through waves of absolute nothing.
The sto
rm calmed, and from a distance, if distance still existed, a mountain of light shone, brighter than the sun, even from a world away. It drew me, like a moth to a porch light, then the grip on my arm yanked me away, back into the darkness, the storm.
I struggled against him, fighting to go back, but he steered me onward like a parent dragging his child, until the darkness around me faded from oblivion to mere pitch black. I caught my breath, once again aware I was breathing.
“We are here,” Death whispered, softly. “We stand at the edge of her demesne.”
“What was that?” Even now, the memory of that light faded, and I struggled to cling to it.
“You tell anyone I showed you, I’ll say you lied. When he’s ready, I’ll make sure Liam gets there. All the way there.”
The tears that returned mixed with the thought of Liam getting to see that place, and the absolute realization that I would never join him. And that thought was what I needed most for what I did next.
I closed my eyes, looking for that swirly light, like a sunspot, that always waited when darkness came. The gift of War, my reward for serving as apocalypse bringer. He’d said it would keep me from losing so many fights. Before, I’d worried about what it would make me. Now I worried about what I already was. “I accept your gift, War.” I said the words, thought them. And the wisp of light dissolved, flooding me.
I opened my eyes to the same darkness. Felt of my fingers. No razor-sharp nails. In fact, this was one of the lamest gifts I’d ever received. “That’s it?”
“Marissa, do you remember my gift to you?” Death’s voice had that tone again, urgent.
I did. Knowledge, he said. Of how love could pin a spirit on earth until the loved one passed. Of how hate could keep one here forever. “I remember.”
“Good. You need it as much, if not more. Go do something that makes a difference.” Death gave me a push, and I stumbled forward, standing at the edge of a shoreline. As my eyes adjusted, I recognized the patterns of tree trunks and branches before me.
