Page 168 of The Mirror of Beasts

Garlands of ice clung to the branches of the ancient trees, glinting in the moonlight. The oaks didn’t tower as they did in other parts of the land; here they bowed and twisted into sinister shapes. Rid of their leaves, the moss-covered bodies reminded him of the spidery Children trailing behind them, braying and chattering.

The full moon’s light brought a glow to the mist cloaking the wood. It felt wrong somehow that the longest night of the year should be so bright.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose as trepidation skittered over his skin. A small, radiant form took shape in the pale air. The seneschal turned his face away stubbornly, but no matter where he looked, the little girl was there. She was watching him. Disappointment and scorn radiating from her silent presence.

Stop, he begged inwardly. Go away.

“You are my boy,” she whispered, but it was Nash’s voice he heard. “You can always come home.”

The memory of blood and death and fire flashed through his mind, strangling the breath from his lungs.

When he looked again, Flea stood on a different boulder, this one still bearing a carved spiral, the last evidence that the druids had once worshiped in the oak wood.

A flash of lightning forced his gaze up toward the dark fabric of the sky. A seam of silver glimmered and stayed, flickering as if galvanized by their presence.

“Ah,” Lord Death began, looking back to the sorceress. “It seems you were correct. They’ve used spellwork to seal the door to Annwn.”

“Their magic cannot withstand your own,” Madrigal crooned.

“Indeed,” Lord Death said. “I’ve more than enough power to tear it open by force.”

The path led them to the center of the small wood. Lord Death stooped, setting Tamsin’s curled body in a hollow at the base of a tree. Roots glowing with silver death magic rose from the ground, twining around her chest, pinning her in place.

As Lord Death straightened, he pulled the stone pendant out from beneath his cloak, gripping it between his palms.

Flea’s spirit hovered nearby, watching from behind a tree as the first of the souls were released from the stone. The orbs of light were nearly indistinguishable from the stars as they rose and rose into the sky, flowing toward the sealed doorway. Their magic would be the blade that carved the path between the worlds open again.

“You can always come home,” Flea whispered to him.

The seneschal closed his eyes, shaking his head. Nausea rioted in his stomach again as his feet carried him toward Tamsin, to where she stirred.

Our home has been us three, wherever fate brought us.

This was Tamsin. This had been his sister. This wasn’t the girl Lord Death had desired for centuries, the one whose soul he’d stolen. This was Tamsin.

Nash had always had a story for everything, and when he didn’t, he could spin one out of smoke and stardust. Her whole life, Tamsin had longed for answers, but he had only ever wanted the sanctuary of belief.

You chose to be with us all those years ago. You chose to become what you are, and now you get to choose again.

He hadn’t remembered until Nash had spoken the words. The memories rose from deep inside him, telling their own story. How Nash had bundled his shaking form into a blanket. How he’d curled up beside a little girl with white-blond curls, and they’d kept one another warm by the fire. How he’d longed to be like them. To be one of them.

Long ago, a hound dreamt he could be a boy. But every dream came to an end.

Lord Death’s deep voice carried over to him. “There is no need for you to keep such a foolish form now. Shift, Bledig.”

He felt only relief. He released the breath burning in his lungs. Released his thoughts. Released the sight of the spirit watching from the trees. Released the pain.

And he shifted—into what he had always been, into what he was meant to be.

Something sharp dug into my back.

The pain grew worse as I tried to shift and found I couldn’t. A heavy pressure banded around my chest, its rough skin tearing at the fabric of my jacket. The damp chill stroked my face, urging me to stay in the darkness that coated my mind.

But a voice emerged from the shadows there, soft but urgent. Wake. Wake now.

The sweet smell of dirt and greens filled my nose and coated my tongue as I forced my eyes open.

Mist shrouded the treacherous shapes around me—it took my hazy mind a moment to recognize them. Trees.

---