Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm
Chapter 23
Death was a terrifying being to look upon. Little more than a black-cloaked figure, the only part of him she could focus on was his skull. The white bones were glaringly bright, even in the glen filled with red. That was the kind of bone one would find wandering in a forest, and a horrible sense of pity would overwhelm the viewer.
Such a thing only died in pain and fear. She knew that deep in her very soul.
He stood beside the largest tree in the center of this barren place. Red leaves swirled at his feet as a tempest burst into life. The movement only made him more terrifying. More ominous.
“Hello, Death,” Freya said. Her voice was raspy with fear. “Have you come to give me my last test?”
“Why do you think I’m going to test you?” He lifted his head and for the first time, she saw his eyes.
They weren’t red, like she had thought they would be. His eyes were blue as the brightest ocean water at night. And they were sad. They swirled with a deep emotion that burned her soul and made tears prick her eyes. He was sad. So incredibly sad, and she didn’t know why.
How could Death feel remorse or sorrow? His job was to collect all the souls who didn’t want to see him.
At least, that was the mortal thoughts of who he was. Maybe he wasn’t the same in the faerie realm. Or maybe he was the person she had rightfully feared for her entire life.
“All the others have,” she finally replied. “That’s the entire point of all this, isn’t it? I took magic that wasn’t mine to take, and now you have to prove that I’m worthy of this magic that grows stronger with every minute inside me.”
He tilted his head to the side and his horns caught in the light. Sunlight through the leaves burned behind them, outlining the rippled edges with bright red fire. “A trial always has to be completed for the Autumn Thief. The magic you stole wasn’t yours, in a way. But like you said. A thief is what you wanted to become, and so you have already proven yourself ready to take the title of... Thief.”
That stopped her anger in its tracks. Was he agreeing with her?
No, that wasn’t possible. None of the other old gods had agreed with her, and both of the others had been tricksters. Just like the other fae.
Freya glanced to her side to make sure that Eldridge and Arrow were still where she had left them. Her faithful companions hadn’t moved at all. In fact, they didn’t seem to even be blinking.
Now, that wasn’t normal for either of them to do. She turned back to Death and bit her lip. “What did you do to them?”
“Nothing that they wouldn’t have agreed to. They can see. They can hear. I didn’t take away their free will or their memories.” Death lifted a skeleton hand and swirled the bones of his fingers in the air. A gnarled staff appeared, and he gently closed his fingers around the knotted end. “I am not the Owl Mother who will force your Goblin King into a certain form when he doesn’t want to be. And I am not the Horned God who likes to manipulate and control people so that they will eventually worship him.”
She followed his words, but Freya didn’t understand why he wasn’t like the others. A question fell from her lips and danced on the breeze. “Why aren’t you like them?”
His bright blue gaze found hers. “Because people already fear me, Freya. I am the end of all things and the beginning of a new path. I am eternity and the final breath.”
Her knees quaked at the words. “So you are the same person who mortals fear, then?”
“In a sense. There are many iterations of Death itself, and we are all connected in some way or manner. But you do not have to be afraid of me, Freya. Someday I will meet you at the river, where you will hand my maidens your clothing and allow them to wash the filth of life from you. But I sense that day will not come for a very long time.” He held out his hand for her to take. “But that remains to be seen. As with my brethren, you will need to walk with me.”
“I don’t want to walk with you,” she spat. “I want this all to be over with. I want to go home with the people I love and start the life I was promised.”
“You cannot do that, though. You stole magic from the Autumn Thief and therefore, you have more responsibilities than living in happiness.” He walked toward her with a significant limp in his gait. “Surely that thought occurred to you long before you took the magic from Lark.”
The name stunned her. “You know Lark’s name?”
“I know all their names.” He lifted his free hand, and a wave of magic shimmered beside him.
A woman with an owl’s head stood there, before the image changed into a man with lizard scales. Over and over, countless goblins appeared in the air beside him. Each one turning into another with a quick flick of his wrist. Some of them she recognized from her vision in the Owl Mother’s sanctuary, others were entirely new.
Eventually, the mirage turned into two faces she knew very well. Eldridge, though in the owlish form he liked to hide from the world. And Lark, with her antlers that were so much larger than life. Freya missed them, she realized. Those antlers had been part of who Lark was for such a long time, and now... Well, she supposed now Lark was who she wanted to be.
“So you see,” Death continued. “I have met with every one of them. I have spoken with them all, and I know their stories. I know how each one of their stories would end though I doubt you’re interested in hearing what will happen or what did happen.”
“No,” she quickly replied. “I have no interest in hearing that.”
“Probably for the best.” He waved his hand again, and the mirages disappeared. “Some of them were not very pleasant ends, I’m afraid.”
“That’s what I’d rather avoid, if you don’t mind.” She cleared her throat and looked back to Eldridge.
Could he see everything that was going on? What would he say to her at this moment?
She already knew the answer. Trust no one, not even Death itself. But so far, this creature wasn’t at all like the others. He didn’t seem to be playing games with her. He seemed to be rather honest, which was a surprising trait among the fae. Even though they couldn’t tell lies, the ones she had met so far were very good at hiding the truth.
“Can I ask you a question?” She put her hand on her belly, gently touching the hollow between her hips as though her touch might sink through to the life within. “It’s a short one, and then I promise I’ll go with you.”
Death inclined his head, slow and methodical as all his movements appeared to be. “By all means, Freya. I will answer any of your questions that I can.”
“Am I going to be a different person when this is all done?” There was only one logical response, and it wasn’t that she remained as she was right now. There was too much riding on her becoming the Autumn Thief. And all the difficulties of the life that came with.
She’d been a foolish little girl to take the magic from Lark without asking more questions. But she’d wanted to help a friend. She’d wanted to be the hero one more time, and if taking a little magic was the answer to that, then why shouldn’t she?
Well. She was living with the consequences now.
Death’s eyes blinked in and out of existence, obviously watching all those thoughts play across her face. “I think you already know the answer to your question.”
“I do, but I want to hear you say it. I want to know for sure that what I’m thinking is right.”
He took a deep breath and sighed. The robes around him swayed in the breeze, and a gust of wind kicked up more leaves that danced at his feet. “No. You won’t be the same person. How could you be? You will have defeated every court imaginable, and then you will be walking into a life that isn’t the same. A life that has subjects and castles. Kings at your beck and call. You will be very busy and likely have no time for yourself or the life inside you that you hold so dear already.”
What a life! It sounded awful.
Death took another step closer, so close that she could see the fine cracks around the mouth of his skull. “But if you succeed, despite all the madness you’re welcoming into your life, you will be happy, Freya. I can promise you that much.”
And that was all she needed. Happiness. A breath and a break every now and then before she dove back into being busy. Freya liked to work, she enjoyed helping others. All she needed to know was that she would be happy.
She looked one more time at the two men she loved. “Will they be all right while I’m gone?”
“My maidens will take good care of them.” One more time, Death stretched out his hand for her to take.
“And your maidens won’t drag either of them to a river to wash their clothes?” Her lips quirked in a half smile that she hoped conveyed the joke. She still didn’t know what he meant by all that, but maybe he was giving her a glimpse of what real death was like.
He shook the giant skull of his head, and she swore those blue glowing orbs crinkled with a smile. “Your companions are safe. There will be no river, nor clothing washed for either of them. They both have long threads of life left to live.”
Good, at least she didn’t have to worry about that, then. The only question still lingering in her mind, the one that stopped her from placing her hand in his, was an age-old question that she’d feared since the moment she was born.
“I find I’m not quite ready to face Death on my own,” she whispered. Her hands curled into fists at her sides and her throat tightened. “I’m afraid. Of you, of what you’re going to ask me to do. Of the future I may or may not see.”
Death sighed. The sound mixed with a gust of wind that threw leaves up into the air.
The crimson leaves rained down on her shoulders, gently tangling in her hair and smoothing down her shoulders. As though Death was trying to comfort her.
“You have yet to learn that death is the last thing you have to fear.” He chuckled, warm and inviting. “Fear spiders and snakes and shadows. They are what hurts and what lingers. But you do not, under any circumstances, have a reason to fear me. Of all things in your life, I am the kindest creature you will meet. My hope for everyone is that I make the passing a little easier. Not frightening.”
“But I’m not...” She couldn’t even finish the words.
“Freya. I think the time for questions has passed. I need you to come with me to become the Autumn Thief, or come with me because you denied your future. Either way, your story ends or begins with me.” His skeletal fingers twitched, waiting for her to make her choice.
It was ridiculous for her to wait any longer, wasn’t it? She already knew what choice she had to make. She already knew there was no other option.
Freya pressed her hand to her belly and whispered, “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Death’s eyes crinkled in that strange smile once again. “And I will take care of you, Freya. Come. It is time.”
She put her hand in Death’s, and let him guide her through the glen.
