Page 13 of Touch of Death
I take in a shaky breath as I look up at him again.
“Then we can’t let that happen,” I say, keeping my voice soft. “All we need to do is come up with a plan. I’m sure we can think of something, together.”
I can literally feel his surprise at my words as his shadows waft up around us. Death stares down at me, silence filling the space between us for a long moment. I worry that he’s going to turn down my help, but then he gives me a small nod.
“You are more than welcome to help,” he says with a soft chuckle. “In fact, I would be happy for it.”
Warmth blossoms in my chest as I realize how gracious his acceptance of my help is. After all, how could my plans possibly compare to a being such as him?
I lean in conspiratorially toward him, and he responds by ducking his head toward me as I excitedly begin whispering various ideas to him. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for me to realize the task before us is far more complicated than I realized.
Death is gentle in his rejection, but I’m obviously out of my element, and it shows as he carefully explains the holes that riddle each of my proposals. Frustration begins to creep in as I realize we are slowly running out of what little time we may have.
“Do not give up, little one,” he says when I let out an exasperated sigh. “We will find a way.”
Suddenly, it dawns on me. It’s so simple that I almost feel foolish even to suggest it.
“Cerberus,” I breathe excitedly, “he’s a dog, right?”
“I suppose, in a sense, yes.”
“Good, then perhaps we’re going about this entirely the wrong way.”
“How so?”
“Instead of treating him like some monster hellbent on carrying out his duties, what if we were to treat him like the dog he is?”
“In what way?” Death asks, eyeing me curiously as a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
“I was thinking … fetch,” I say before quickly explaining when he doesn’t seem familiar with the concept. “We toss something like a stick that way for him to chase after and then slip off into that forest over there.”
“Fetch?” Death muses, his eyes growing distant in thought as he follows the point of my finger.
I wait with bated breath for him to answer, though I more than half-expect him to shoot down this idea, too. The longer he remains quiet, the sillier my suggestion seems as it bounces around unchecked in my head. I bite my nip anxiously, suddenly worried that he simply cannot find the words to kindly tell me how stupid I am.
I should never have given voice to such a dumb idea.
“It is sosimple,” Death murmurs, missing the way I cringe at the word. “I think it may just work.”
“Really?” I ask, hope blossoming in my chest.
“Yes, but there is just one problem.”
My heart sinks at this, of course, I should have known better.
“What is it?”
“There are no sticks within reach,” he answers. “I highly doubt Cerberus would take kindly to us veering that far off track, and I am not about to risk your safety to try.”
“Oh.”
I glance around us, realizing that he’s right, and the hope that had blossomed to life within me starts to wither.
“What else do your mortal dogs like?”
I blink up at him as my mind races for answers.
“Um, food,” I say quickly. “Meat and bones …”
