Page 45 of In Death's Hands
Nathan’s hand, never breaking contact, pushes me forward a bit more forcefully than expected. He’s fully ignoring thecurious onlookers and has yet to look at me since we landed here. I will my heart back to a steadier rhythm as I take in the rest of her. She’s wearing a dress fit for a queen. Green velvet, tight corset, silver threads matching her crown. A silver circlet with emeralds dangling from its spikes.
Chilling.
The smile she directs our way is a pale imitation of a warm welcome. It doesn’t help that I can’t shake my earlier rage.
I take in the throne, using the time to breathe and pull myself together. Marble stairs lead to a pedestal upon which sits a massive wooden chair with intricate carvings filled with gold. The sight is a bit jarring, not really fitting her dress or her silver crown, but I dismiss it quickly since my current attire doesn’t grant me the right to judge any fashion choice.
“Welcome, friends,” she says sweetly, her voice barely above a whisper. It doesn’t matter. The room goes silent instantly and everyone turns towards her with eager faces. “I hear you have a special offer that cannot wait.”
The door behind us opens again, and I turn around to see Thalnus and Atys, this time both wearing elegant three-piece suits that only make me feel worse about my leggings. Nathan doesn’t turn or even shift. His head is high and his gaze cold. He’s not wearing a suit himself, but dark trousers and a white button-down shirt. He’s clearly made a change to his usual attire, so I wonder why I wasn’t allowed to.
My eyes land on Atys’, and despite his impassive stare, I could swear he’s warning me about something. What? I don’t know. I feel entirely out of my depth and resent my companion more and more for not preparing me better.
Nathan’s hand on my back tightens once—a warning maybe?—before pushing me rather harshly. I stumble forwardand swirl to him, shocked at finding him exactly where he was standing before, still not looking at me.
Atys and Thalnus bow deeply to the woman on the throne, as does everyone else in the room, although they were here before us.
I look around, bewildered by the sight. The only ones left upright are Nathan and me.
I turn to face the throne and lock eyes with Cel. It must be her, right? She looks at me with a vicious smile but I don’t back down. There is no way I’m bowing to this woman.
“Celestina,” drawls Nathan in a voice I barely recognise. It’s as if the shadows he wills are now speaking through him. “Always a pleasure.” He nods once at the woman, whose smile warms just a tad before her eyes fall on me again.
“Indeed,” she answers, her voice as soft as the velvet of her gown. “Andwhatdid you bring me?” Her lips curl in clear disgust, and I kill every instinct shouting at me to go up to that ridiculous dais and smack the living crap out of her.
The smile that appears on Nathan’s face freezes me on the spot. It is ancient and cruel and everything Death’s assistant ought to be. He lets his eyes wander around the room, and a glimmer of twisted pleasure shines through as he finds himself above everyone else, except the woman his eyes eagerly return to before he says slowly, “Hopefully a clue you’ve been searching for.” His eyes drop to mine for a second, and I find nothing of the friend I’ve made these past few days. “Definitely a toy worth playing with,” he adds, dropping his head lower, as if honouring her without relinquishing the stance he made by not bending along with the others.
Celestina’s smile deepens as she examines me as you would a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe.
And I have had enough. “Andwhatare you?” I ask, clearly mimicking her. The sick pleasure I feel as her eyes widen is quickly replaced by dread as the murmurs of the peoplestill bowingecho around the room.
She makes an impatient gesture with her hand that at last allows everyone to stand again. Atys and Thalnus quickly join Nathan, and I feel a strange stab of betrayal as they leave me standing on my own.
“Your name,” Cel demands, ignoring my own question.
“I’m Liv. Olivia,” I answer, lifting my chin as high as it’ll go.
A few people bristle, and I’m sure I’ve made another mistake, but despite the alarm blaring danger in my head, I can’t find it in me to care. I refuse to be intimidated by fancy clothes and a big chair.
Cold seeps into my bones. I let out a pained breath that turns into a cloud as it flies away. My gaze is stuck once again in hers. The cold is so strong my mind slows, and I can’t for the life of me remember what it feels like to be warm. I fight to draw in another breath, but no matter what I do, this one gets stuck in my lungs.
I feel a phantom hand on my back, there but not. It focuses me, allows me to wait until Celestina averts her gaze as Nathan clears his throat to draw her attention. Only when she focuses elsewhere do I allow my eyes to drop, breathe deeply. I see the faintest shadows gather at my feet, the hand somehow still at my back despite me knowing there is no one there.
I wonder if—no. I know where those shadows come from. Just like I know that the brightness in the room isn’t a coincidence but a careful play on Celestina’s part. One that’s not stopping Nathan from sending his shadows to reassure and steady me, even if they are so faint I barely see them myself.
I remember his plea for me to see him, back in his flat. He didn’t want me to doubt him, but he’s too good an actor and I admit that I got lost in his performance for a second. I fight the urge to look at him, to let him know that I still see the man who helped me despite who he is. I still see my friend behind the scary mask he’s putting on.
“Tell me, dear one, why Thalnus claimed it was oh so important for me to meet with you promptly.”
I have little doubt whom the endearment is for, but I take the opportunity to look behind me at the three men still gathered there. Nathan’s face is more closed off than ever, although a dip of his eyes to mine makes me wonder what he’s thinking.
Bigger things are clearly at play here. I can still feel the eyes of many on me, but surprisingly, most of the stares are entirely focused on Nathan. My unlikely friend who’s facing his ruler very stiffly, head held high as he ignores everyone else.
I stay silent, not knowing what to do or say. I do this trick I learned long ago when dealing with bullies in group homes where I stare between their eyes, giving Celestina the impression that I’m meeting her stare but feeling safer that way. Like her piercing cold can’t reach me. I don’t know if that’s true; after all, they all seem mighty powerful to me and this being in front of us is theirqueen. Or I’m assuming that’s what she is. The crown, after all, is all but a subtle hint.
“The Novensiles are acting up again,” Nathan says, voice still full of the shadows he can’t fully wield here.
Celestina starts, a deep concern suddenly etched on her pretty features. “Explain.”
