Page 53 of Guarded By the Reaper

“Your boyfriend said it: a deal is a deal. Someone’s soul must be mine. Choose quickly, or I’ll take the child’s.”

I looked at Elysia, so small and scared at the table, her face pale. Then back at Grim, his face set with determination, his skeletal hand squeezing mine reassuringly. The howling wind outside mirrored the turmoil in my heart. Time stood still as I faced an impossible choice, the weight of it crushing me.

Grim pulled away from me, his touch lingering for a moment before he stepped forward. My heart raced as I watched him reach for the clasp of his cloak. In his other hand, his scythe gleamed, ready to cut his eternal thread. I tore my gaze away from Grim to look at Elysia. She sat frozen at the long table, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. My little girl looked so small and helpless. I couldn’t bear to see her like this. Without thinking, I rushed to Elysia’s side. I scooped her up in my arms, feeling her tiny body tremble against mine. As I pulled her away from Ma-Vasha, I held her close, trying to shield her from the horror unfolding before us.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I whispered, even though nothing was okay. “I got you.”

Elysia clung to me, burying her face in my shoulder. I could feel her tears soaking through my shirt. My own eyes burned as I turned to look at Grim and Ma-Vasha facing each other.

Grim stood tall, his bony fingers working at the buttons of his cloak. I wanted to scream, to beg him not to do this. But the words caught in my throat. I knew deep down that this was his choice, his sacrifice to save us. It made me love him even more, which only made the pain worse.

As Grim undid the last button, something unexpected happened. A small, furry shape darted out from underneath his cloak, shooting between his legs like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened as I recognized the blur of tortoiseshell fur.

“Lady Mews!” Elysia and I gasped in unison.

I blinked, not quite believing what I was seeing. How had Lady Mews gotten here? Then it hit me – before we teleported, Grim had let her go. She must have snuck under his cloak without either of us noticing, clinging to the fabric with her claws when we teleported. For a split second, relief washed over me. Lady Mews was okay! She’d made it through the teleportation. But that relief turned to dread as I realized where she was running.

Straight towards Ma-Vasha.

“No!” I cried out, but it was too late.

Ma-Vasha’s clawed hand shot out, snatching Lady Mews mid-stride. She stood up as she lifted our beloved cat, holding her up for inspection. Lady Mews dangled from Ma-Vasha’s grip, looking small and fragile. I felt Elysia stiffen in my arms. Her hands gripped my shirt tighter as she peeked out to see what was happening. A soft whimper escaped her lips.

“Lady Mews,” the soul-eating monster said, her eyes filled with curiosity. “What a silly little name for a silly little creature. You’re the reason I’m starving right now.”

Ma-Vasha stared at Lady Mews, her ancient eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and amusement. The air in the dimly lit stone hall felt thick with tension. Our tortie cat, her fur standing on end, let out a meow followed by a hiss. I held my breath, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

To my surprise, Ma-Vasha laughed. “What a feisty little creature,” she said.

My palms grew clammy as I watched the soul-eating monster reach out one bony finger to stroke Lady Mews between the ears. Every instinct screamed at me to snatch our cat away, but fear kept me rooted to the spot, my legs feeling like lead.

Suddenly, Ma-Vasha started coughing. It was a harsh, hacking sound that bounced off the stone walls and seemed to shake the very air around us. She dropped Lady Mews, who immediately darted towards us, her claws skittering across the floor. Elysia squirmed out of my arms. She scooped up the cat, hugging her tightly to her chest.

Ma-Vasha waved her hand dismissively, as if to say she’d be fine in a moment. But the coughing didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse, each hack more violent than the last. Her face turned an alarming shade of red. She gasped for air between coughs, her chest heaving with the effort. As I watched, something finallystarted to make sense. Words I didn’t understand when I first read them.

“When richest fur meets fated breath, you’ll find your end in silent death,” I said. I was shocked by my own realization. “Oh my god! Ma-Vasha is allergic to cats!”

Ma-Vasha’s eyes bulged as she tried to speak between coughs. Her usually imposing figure seemed to shrink as she struggled for breath.

“No,” she wheezed. “The prophecy... It’s about wealth. ‘Richest fur’... refers to how... rich people... surround themselves with... furs and jewels.”

She paused, gasping for air, her hands clutching at her throat. Despite everything she’d done, I felt a pang of sympathy twist in my gut. No one deserved to suffer like this, not even a soul-eating monster.

“That’s why... all my life... I avoided... living in wealth and comfort,” Ma-Vasha continued, her words coming out in short bursts that seemed to cost her great effort. “So I... wouldn’t die. Prophecies are... never literal. They’re... metaphors.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It looks like this prophecy is literal. You’re simply allergic to animal fur.”

Ma-Vasha tried to laugh, but it turned into another choking fit that wracked her entire body. Her eyes rolled back, the whites showing. She collapsed against the table with a thud. Within seconds, she was gone, her body still and lifeless.

I stood there, stunned, my knees trembling. It seemed impossible that something as ordinary as a cat allergy could bring down a being as powerful as Ma-Vasha. But then again, maybe that was the point. Sometimes the simplest things could change everything. The irony of it left me feeling dizzy and slightly hysterical.

Around us, the Poppets began to fall. It was like watching dominos topple, one after another. They crumbled into piles ofclay and straw, no longer held together by Ma-Vasha’s magic. The sound of their collapse filled the air, a strange rustling that sent shivers down my spine.

Lady Mews let out a pitiful meow from Elysia’s arms. I looked down at our cat, the unwitting hero of this bizarre situation. Her fur was ruffled, and she looked as confused as I felt, her big eyes darting around the room.

“Come on,” Grim said, his voice gentle but urgent. He placed a skeletal hand on my shoulder, the touch grounding me in reality. “Let’s go home.”

I nodded, relief washing over me in a wave so powerful it nearly brought me to my knees. Home. It sounded like the best place in the world right now, a safe haven far from this nightmare.

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