Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm

Chapter 24

Freya wasn’t sure why she’d thought something else might happen when she took Death’s hand. Maybe a large bang as the world rearranged itself because the Autumn Thief had taken the hand of someone so powerful. Or perhaps that the ground would open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

None of that happened, however.

Death simply wanted to walk with her through the glen. He strode with her by the large tree that rained red leaves down over their head, and she realized there was a larger path beyond it. Of course, the path also seemed to float in the darkness that spread around them, as though no light could penetrate the strange realm they stood inside.

The path was covered in bright leaves that crunched beneath her feet as they walked. Death seemed quite content with listening to the sound. He didn’t say a word until they were far from her companions and the path had become decidedly familiar.

“Is this the same place I was when I first arrived in the faerie realms?” she asked, looking around them. They were moving, but the trees weren’t.

The memories struck her hard, and she couldn’t stop thinking about that very first moment when she had arrived in faerie, chasing after her sister like a madwoman. This path had frustrated her to no end. Freya had been ready to cut down every tree that she possibly could if it meant getting to her sister in time.

“It is,” Death replied. “Entering faerie is sometimes a form of death for some mortals. You were smart and kept your wits about you, or you would have ended up in this purgatory forever.”

“Purgatory.” She repeated the word with a small snort. “I think I would have stayed here forever if it wasn’t for the bravery of a goblin dog.”

How strange to end her story at the beginning. Freya scuffed her foot on the ground, disturbing the leaves with the faint impression that she might find her own footprints in the ground here. Just waiting for her to see them once again.

“Perhaps, but I think you would have figured it out all the same. I’ve been watching you since you stepped foot in this realm, I’ll admit. Your journey has fascinated me.”

She cleared her throat and removed her hand from his arm. “I don’t know how to reconcile the fact that Death himself has been watching me while I’ve been traveling. It’s a little uncomfortable to hear, if I’m being honest.”

“I wouldn’t expect less from you. Most people are uncomfortable with talking to me, let alone knowing that I’ve been invested in their lives.” He laughed as though what he’d said was funny. “But I suppose that’s the way of life in general. There’s always going to be some version of Death watching you. Waiting for the moment when you make a mistake and you come to see us for all eternity.”

And there he went again. Talking in such a way that made shivers dance down her spine and reminded her that this conversation wasn’t normal in the slightest. Nor did she want to continue it for any longer than she absolutely had to.

Freya tucked her hands behind her back and tried very hard not to look at the dress that was poured down her body. “I have no wish to insult you. However, I have to ask why we’re standing here of all places. You are supposed to be testing me and deciding if I am worthy of this power and this position. Not taking me down a path of memories.”

“But this is where it all started. Not just for you, my dear, but for everyone.” Death pointed at the trees with his cane. “I’ve already made my choice about you, Freya. I’ve seen you struggle and fight to get everywhere in this realm. And I am most impressed. But there are many things you should know before you take all this on, and there is one more sacrifice to make.”

She thought about his words and tried hard to ignore the fear churning in her belly. A thousand questions popped into her mind at the mere thought of what he was implying.

What information could he tell her about being the Autumn Thief that could be worth choosing death over taking this role?

Considering the other gods she had met thus far, she was very afraid of what he was about to say. But again, she realized how little a choice she had in this matter. He had to tell her. She had to take those words and understand that she couldn’t change them. And then she had to decide if she wanted to make a sacrifice and continue forward on this path, or branch off down another.

Sighing, she nodded firmly and turned toward him. “Then please, Death. Tell me what it is that I need to know about this place. This magic. What secrets have yet to unfold in front of me?”

Those glowing blue eyes crinkled in the corners again, as though he were pleased with her answer. “I knew you would want to know more. You never have been the heroine who was happy to charge into battle without knowing all the facts.” He held his arm out again for her to take. “Would you like to find out what is at the end of this path then, my dear?”

“You mean it’s not just an illusion?” She took his arm a little too quickly. “I thought this path went nowhere. That no matter how long I walked on it, that it would always remain the same.”

“In a sense, for some, this path will always remain stagnant. But there is a deeper end to it that you should be thankful you never discovered.” His cane struck the ground a little harder and suddenly they could walk freely down the path.

How quaint it was to see the trees moving and feel the ground give beneath her feet. Freya had been so certain that wasn’t possible in this place.

But, as with everything in the faerie realms, the impossible was never the truth.

She tried her best not to marvel at the change, and instead, listen to what Death was saying. “How unusual. Do you think I ever would have figured out how to make the path continue forward?”

“I would imagine you had about three or four days before your thirst got the better of you. And then, when you thought all was lost, you would have suddenly had more vigor than you’ve had in years. You’d have gotten up and bounded down this path toward where we are going.” He inclined his skull head, pointing in the direction they walked. “Though, by the time you reached the end, you would have understood what had happened to you.”

Freya noted how his grip changed while he said the words. Death clutched onto her arm a little harder, a little more forcefully. As if he feared that she would take off the moment she realized they were walking down a path where the dead walked.

But she trusted him. She had realized that truth a little belatedly, as usual, but she didn’t think he was trying to kill her. After all, if he’d wanted to do that, then it would have been easier to do it without all this fanfare. That meant he really did have something to show her, and she intended to find out what that truth was.

“Ah,” she whispered. “I suppose that should frighten me more than it does.”

“Usually. But this is the same path that all the thieves have walked since the beginning of time. You know, it used to be all the court leaders but then...” He sighed. “Then they all wanted to avoid the old gods and the old ways.”

She sidestepped a tree that had fallen over the path. The longer they walked, the more untamed the path became. And in the distance, she swore she could see some kind of clearing, or perhaps another grove of trees like the one they had just left.

“Why did they want to divert from the old ways?” she asked. “No one has told me that part, only that they didn’t want to worship you anymore, and that the Autumn Thief was one of the few who keeps the old traditions alive.”

Death shifted his weight in his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable with her question but ready to answer, nonetheless. “Children want to grow up and leave the home. They want to find their own answers to questions they thought they already understood. It is natural for them to leave, but some of the gods don’t share that same opinion with me.”

Ah. So they were a rather dysfunctional family, and none of the parents wanted to take responsibility for driving out their own children. In a strange way, that made more sense than anything anyone had told her thus far.

“Right,” she replied. “So, the old gods have to be worshipped to stay alive?”

“Something like that. We’d still be here, of course. But the Autumn Thief has always seen the reasoning behind continuing to worship three very powerful beings who could easily become unhinged.” Death raised the hand not holding the cane, holding his palm out flat. “I am very different from my siblings. I wish I could say that I wouldn’t also feel a little thrown aside, but...”

“When beings that are used to being worshipped feel like they are no longer useful, bad things can happen.”

Freya understood the meaning behind his words. Did she want to be that person? Though she was terrified of these beings, she would still have to see them regularly.

Maybe that was why Lark didn’t want to do this anymore. These gods seemed to ask for much, but gave nothing in return. And how was that supposed to be easy for the person who became their mouthpiece?

“All right,” she muttered. “So if I want to take up this job, then I will have to be aware that you’re all going to be meddling in every choice that I make?”

“And in your life.” Death’s eyes squeezed at the edges again. “I cannot promise that we won’t have opinions on your man, your children, or your court.”

“Essentially I’ll be welcoming three more parents into my life, as well as having found my blood parents.” Freya hated the sound of that. She was just coming into her own as an adult, and now she had to listen to so many others?

“Goodness, don’t call me a parent. I’m not that old.” Death winked one of his glowing orbs. “More like three older siblings who are certain they know how to live better than you do, my dear.”

“Right, and that sounds so lovely.”

But she was teasing. Of course she would take this punishment, if that’s what it required. All she had to do was listen to them complain? She’d gotten quite good at that in the most recent months.

They finally reached a clearing in their meandering walk. She’d been right. It wasn’t a home or anything similar, but a clearing. A large space with swirling shadows around it. No trees. No red leaves. Just a blank space where there might have once been something if she looked hard enough for clues.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“The place where you will make your final sacrifice, if you are still certain that you want this position.” Death walked ahead of her into the center of the clearing and put both of his hands on the top of his cane. “You have to be sure, Freya. More sure than you have ever been of anything in your life.”

“I am.” She wasn’t. The words were a horrible lie. “But what other choice do I have? Death or becoming the Autumn Thief. I have to do this.”

She could only hope he appreciated her honesty, because there were no other options for her. This was it. The light inside her made it difficult to consider anything else.

Death sighed and gestured for her to join him. “Then come look, my dear. Come and see the last part of becoming the Autumn Thief. The last part of becoming someone entirely new.”

Freya strode across the fallen leaves and stood beside him. Death had strategically placed himself where he stood so the dark cloak that undulated around him would obscure a horrible sight.

Graves.

A hundred graves, all open, all spread out in the ground as far as the eye could see. Farther, she imagined, and probably more than she’d have ever guessed.

Freya’s eyes blurred with tears and she pressed her hands to her mouth. Why was he showing her this? This horribly sad place where so many people had been laid to rest. Was it a battlefield? A reminder that the old gods were infinitely powerful?

“What is this place?” she whispered through her shaking fingers.

Death pointed with his cane to the grave at their feet. “You can guess at that, Freya. You’re smarter than you look.”

She didn’t want to look down. She didn’t want to see what the graves contained.

But she looked. Because she had to.

Curled up in the grave with her legs pressed against her heart was an image of Lark. A younger version, perhaps, with tiny nubs of antlers on her head. Her hooved feet were tucked in close to her nude behind, and someone had crossed her arms over her chest. She looked very much like she had fallen asleep in that hole in the ground.

Freya couldn’t bear to see her dear friend like that. Her eyes flicked to the right and saw the face of an owl, laid out as though he had fallen asleep on his back.

Her Eldridge. Her sweet, wonderful, handsome Eldridge laid cold and dead at her feet.