Page 23 of The Tenth Muse

Death tapped their scythe twice against the marble floor before it shrank down and was swallowed into the tattoo on their forearm. Wrapping their hand around the Emperor’s throat, Death bent low, whispering into the dying ruler’s ear. His eyes went wide and he sputtered a cough before white light burst in every direction, blinding me from seeing them. When the flecks of light stopped dancing in my eyes, the Emperor was gone.

Death stood in front of me, walking toward a sky painted the shades of burning flames. Three straps crossed low on their back, hugging where their waist sloped in, a hood covering their hair. Their boots thudded through the sea of shadows followingin their wake. So many souls that had fallen victim to the Emperor. All of my kind among them, just a drop in a sea of thousands.

The frail man that’d held my hands, pleaded with me, waxen and weak, was the same man who had done this. Given me away so freely.His great symbol.Now he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted. He’d live on forever.

“These souls will never get to welcome him here.” Death said, cutting into my thoughts. Their tone conveyed what kind ofwelcomeit would have been, and I had to admit, I envied that I would not get to witness it.

“When lives weigh on someone’s soul, they must confront them in death in order to join its realm.”

And if they don’t.

“Then they go somewhere far worse.”

Worse than death?

“There are fates far worse than death, Songbird.”

I didn’t know which was more unsettling, that Death could hear my thoughts or the way my pulse skittered at their nickname for me.

What would Death do with me? There was no need for my canthymn here. No one to save or serenade. Would I be locked away and caged, eliminated completely from existence, or sent to wherever was worse than the land of the dead?

Death said nothing, though I knew they could hear my thoughts now, and I didn’t care. I had nothing to hide.

The smoky sea parted, becoming clusters and then individual silhouettes until they were absorbed into Death's back as we passed through the tall looming gates made of carved bone.

“Welcome to Occasus.”

seven

. . .

Towering stone buildings clustered together,reaching up high, silhouetted by the blood orange sky. Humans and ethereal beings walked the shimmering charcoal paths, some snaking along the ground, others lifting beyond my view, scaled by figures too distant to see clearly. They were all dressed in a variety of garb from plain frocks and simple night dresses to elaborate gowns and suits with funny box-looking hats. Generations of the dead, all coalescing in Occasus.

“There are so many,” I said, taking in a couple holding hands, a human in a long sequined dress and another woman in tight trousers, a flowy blouse, and bare feet. “Are these the things they died in?”

“For some. There are shops and things, as the dead have unlimited time. Many prefer to be in the clothes they are familiar with, though there are some who enjoy trying out a variety of styles over the centuries, not that we worry about when it is in Occasus.”

“When is it here?”

Death shrugged. “Who knows, I stopped counting millennia ago.”

As we passed, the dead visited with Death as if they were old friends. There were no fearful gazes or angry looks. Granted, many of these people could have been deceased for a long time, but from the desperate way the Emperor had clung to life, had begged for my song to abate Death’s visits, I had always imagined souls being intimidated or terrified of Death, maybe both.

“It is normal to fear Death, but many realize shortly after I find them that I am merely a guide to a new beginning. Scary, yes. Something to be terrified of? Absolutely not.”

I blinked a few times, remembering that Death could read my thoughts and wishing I didn’t have so much to think about right now. If only there were a way to stop my mind from running away with all sorts of scenarios, not that any of them would make sense. This place already bent the world as I understood it, even the small parts I’d had access to in my lifetime.

“Also, my name is not Death. It’s Reaper.” Their captivating eyes sparkled with stars and I wished I could see what lay beneath their hooded face. “Maybe one day I will show you, Lyric. But only when we are alone.”

Aloneflickered in the back of my mind. It was a word my life had been full of, that usually brought great sadness, so much so that I often shoved it away. Maybe it was simply hearing how my name sounded on another’s lips, beautiful and reverent. But the word from Reaper’s lips was a warm promise, like a wood fire on a cold dreary night.

The thin veil of fabric covering their mouth twitched.

“So now that I am dead?—”

Reaper halted in place then pivoted to face me, their sharp brows drawing together. “You’re not dead.”

Their attention scanned over the throngs of beings wandering the paths and looking down at us from windows high above. “Not everyone in Occasus is dead. There are those, likeyou and I, who are called here to serve a greater purpose, one beyond the mortal-dwelling realms.”

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