Page 28

Disemboweled, a voice said matter-of-factly in the back of my head.

My clenched fists shook. Only one person would have done that to her, and even though my own mother was no walk in the park, I still had trouble believing one’s own blood could do such a terrible thing to a child.

The Horned God rested crimson hands on his knees, his face a stark mask of grief and fury.

Death answered to only a few. Not Evie or Cernunnos.

Me.

Cool fingers wrapped around my upper arms. “I know what you’re thinking,” my queen murmured quietly. “You only get one, Tessaria.” Her fingers tightened. “Only one.”

I glanced at Ash and swallowed hard. The dryad’s face was chalk white, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he stared down at his friend. If I saved Moira, I could never save Ash. Or Evie. Or my child, if the goddess ever blessed me enough to have one.

I’d never understood life. Not like my friends did. I knew what happiness was and experienced it every day with them. I knew what love was and also knew I had it from every single person here.

Except for Cernunnos. His idea of love and mine had to be vastly different. But he cared for me enough to help me, if only because Evie loved me.

Death, on the other hand, had always been my friend in all the ways that mattered. Death was a cool embrace on a hot summer’s day, a gentle permanence, an end to suffering. I’d rarely disagreed with Death, nor interfered with those called to drift a while in the gray before passing through the veil.

But Moira was my friend. My family. I—I loved her.

My entire body shook.

Evie took Moira from Cernunnos’s arms and slid her too-thin body onto her lap. She bent over her and wept, great heaping sobs of devastation. Ash sank to his knees beside her, his gnarled hand resting on the back of her neck. Tears slipped down his face.

Rowan sank to Evie’s other side, his face a somber mask. His irises swirled with pink and golden magic, his emotions riding his power. Cernunnos stumbled away and fell, his face buried in his hands, deep racking sobs tearing from his chest. Thorns shot up from the ground, cracking through the deep ice, tipped with blood-red flowers and snow—a physical manifestation of his grief.

My throat tightened.

“No,” I whispered once more.

Cliona released me and stepped away, her eyes sad. She lifted her palm, a tiny, glowing silver sphere of magic floating above it.

Go, daughter, she whispered inside my head.

I slipped into the mist, the sight of my grieving friends the last thing I saw before fading into nothing.

Chapter

Fifteen

Idrifted in a gray fog, my body finally free of pain. My hands floated above my face. Clean and pale, the nails unpainted and manicured. I waved them around and looked for bloodstains, but there were none.

My filthy clothing had changed into a pure white gown.

A soundless laugh escaped me.

I was dead, and this was the afterlife’s idea of a joke. Wearing a white nightgown made me seem like a virginal bride, and we all knew those days were long gone.

If I were lucky, my mother and I had taken each other out. I’d happily float forever in this mist if Mom had been sucked down to whatever version of Hell existed in the world I’d left behind.

Being dead wasn’t so bad. Hunger was a distant memory. I wasn’t reed-thin any longer. My pain was gone. I was clean and safe. This was far better than what I’d left, for sure.

My heart ached for Evie and the others. I wished I had expected the sucker punch Mom surprised me with, if only to save them from seeing me die.

Crafty bitch. Maybe that barrier had been a feint to get me close, and I’d walked right into it.

Wasn’t it a kick in the pants that the last important lesson you learned resulted in never learning another lesson at all?