“I understand. So, you stuck around and reaped people. When did you become their god?” Unending asked. I certainly saw the reason behind Death’s secrecy. She’d bothered Unending about her gift to Erethiel, after doing the same with Shezin. Yes, this whole realm had to be kept secret. It made sense from Death’s point of view, at least.
“I got bored. I got so bored, and the Dainians were struggling. I figured… you know, two birds, one stone. I help them, they make me feel better, everybody’s happy,” Shezin said, slightly amused. “I didn’t think it would bring me much joy at first, but it made my existence more interesting. Remember, I am unable to leave this world. I’ve seen it. All of it. Every inch of it. There is nothing here I have not seen.”
I scoffed. “You became their god to entertain yourself.”
“And to give my eternal existence a deeper meaning. Once Death left, that was it. I never saw her again. For what it’s worth, the Dainians are infinitely better off with me than without me. I only hope you will keep our world a secret from the other Reapers,” he said. “I ask kindly, of course.”
“If we refuse? Will you attack us?” I muttered, remembering his account of what he’d done to other Reapers. I doubted he had the strength to take Unending on, but I did consider the possibility, considering how ancient this guy was. Damn, he was older than my wife.
“I don’t like violence,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I can only hope to convince you. A Reaper as powerful as you, Unending… I really don’t want to fight. Stay. Live here for a while. See what Dain has to offer. See how much the people benefit from my presence and generosity. You’ll understand.”
A faint knock on the door brought the conversation to an end. Shezin got up with a strained smile, gold disks jingling across his chest. “I’m afraid I must leave you now. Rest, enjoy yourselves, explore the rooftop gardens. I shall see you again in the morning, and we can talk more about anything and everything.”
He got up, the silks softly drifting around him as he moved away from us. He seemed to be gliding across the floor as he left the room. Unending closed the door, then turned around to face me.
“You do realize we’re going to find his quarters and break in, right?” she whispered, a devilish smile settling on her lips. It made me chuckle. “It’s the only way we’re going to get some truth out of him. But first, we definitely need to talk to Death again. Both of us.”
“Can we do that?” I asked, wary of the prospect of speaking to Death, even if only for a minute or two. The thought that she’d lied to us one too many times already had fueled the flames of my animosity toward her.
“I reckon we must. At least you can hear her yourself and see how she is with this particular subject,” Unending exhaled sharply. “I’m exhausted. This second trial has revealed another of her secrets, and I’m starting to think that’s the theme of our dance with Anunit.”
“It does make me wonder what the third trial will hold.”
She snorted a bitter laugh. “Right?”
Shezin was trying to come across as a man who’d done Dain a lot of good. According to him, not everything worked out smoothly, and sacrifices had been required—the missing children, the priestesses’ sons and daughters, and who knew what else—but it didn’t make any of this right. It only pointed to deeper and potentially darker secrets. As much as I hated to admit it, I had a feeling Anunit was the only one who’d been honest with us from the very beginning.
I couldn’t bear to imagine how Unending felt in all of this. She didn’t expect her maker to be perfect, but the truths we’d uncovered were cause for heartbreak and disappointment. By this point, the third trial terrified me.
Tristan
The rooftop gardens were as long and wide as the temple itself, offering a rich view of the entire city on both sides of the river. The night had returned, all the lanterns turned to ashes that lingered in the air, twinkling under the triple moons’ light. Gradually, the kingdom was going to sleep, as dawn would arrive in about four or five hours. One by one, the windows of every house around the temple and beyond turned dark, and the streets emptied, leaving a silence that was only broken by the occasional echo of distant footsteps.
Unending and I were in the middle of the gardens, which had a little bit of everything. On the south side, there were vegetables and fragrant herbs. On the east, fruit trees grew with heavy, fruitful branches. On the west, decorative bushes abounded with succulent leaves in wondrous shades of red and purple and fiery orange. On the north, a large table had been set with fifty-one chairs, likely where Shezin and his priestesses ate when the weather was good. In-between, stone footpaths connected each side.
We’d found a mirror in the bathroom attached to our chamber, and Unending had deemed it necessary for what we were about to do. Careful not to be seen or heard by anyone who might be nearby, we hid in the small orchard and settled on the tall edge. Unending placed the mirror on one of the square marble blocks that had been left between the trees, likely to be used as stools, then scratched a series of symbols onto its surface.
“Whatever she says, just listen and check her facial expressions,” Unending murmured. “You’re much better at reading people than I am sometimes. Even Death. And I’m personally affected by all of this, so I worry my head isn’t as clear as I’d like it to be.”
I took her hand in mine and gently kissed the knuckles. “I’m with you to the end. Remember that, my love.”
“I’ll never forget it,” she replied, smiling. Our lips met briefly before she resumed the spell. She whispered a string of sub-words as the symbols lit up white. “Death, we need to talk.”
The mirror rippled like the surface of a lake bothered by a pebble. Gradually, its reflection shifted into something dark before a familiar figure emerged. The mirror had a face, with a nose and eyes and the full lips of Death herself. It looked as though she were trying to poke her head through, but it was her ragged breath that startled me. “I’m here,” Death said. “This is thoroughly uncomfortable…”
“It was the only way for us to speak that would both allow Tristan to hear you and avoid triggering any of Anunit’s alarms,” Unending said. “You’ve been lying to us.”
The mirror face stilled, brows furrowed tightly above her slim nose. “That’s insulting.”
“The man used to be your lover!” Unending countered, then gave Death a full account of our every step and conversation up this moment. “You and Shezin were together. You made him a scythe. You taught him raw death magic. While you were making us Reapers, you were coming back here to smooch with your mortal-turned-immortal lover. How long after Shezin sent you away did you start preaching to me about the sanctity of eternity when I fell for Erethiel, huh? You hypocrite.”
Death didn’t show the slightest twinge of guilt even though her pale skin somehow made every micro-expression more visible. I’d seen all kinds of people lie. Death wasn’t of the living, but her physical form had a body language of its own. I wasn’t very adept at reading it, though I knew my way around her well enough to spot the slight changes in her expressions. And she was firm in her statement now. “I swear to you both, I swear upon everything I hold dear, that I do not remember this man or making a scythe for him or giving him eternal life.”