Page 15 of Touch of Death
Eventually, though, I can’t help the way questions seem to slip from me. Death is quiet, always taking the time to gather his thoughts before replying, but he does his best to patiently answer every question that I ask.
At long last, the night yields to dawn, and I feel hope brighten in my chest with it. The wild forest begins to thin around us until the trees suddenly give way to a view that makes my steps falter.
I gasp, my eyes widening as I take in the vibrancy of the world beyond. Unlike the rest of the muted Underworld, the City of the Gods and its surroundings are practically overflowing with color … many of which I have no name for.
Beyond the city wall, towering buildings rise up among a waterfall of hanging gardens and vast sprawling palaces. Aside from Death’s own palace, I’ve never seen such strange, yet stunning, architecture in all my life. My eyes move from building to building as I realize each is different, but no less exquisite, from the last.
I could spend a lifetime admiring the palaces and taking in the lush, wild gardens that spill out all around them and not grow bored.
“Hazel?”
Death squeezes my hand gently and I blink up at him to realize he’s waiting for me. I blush, knowing my eyes are still wide with wonder, but he offers me a small smile in return. It’s enough to melt my heart along with the apprehension that’s started to settle into my bones.
“I’m sorry,” I say, looking out over the city once again. “It’s just so much to take in.”
Despite what I’ve already seen here, somehow, this city is what makes the reality of my death truly hit home.
Death steps between me and the city so that I’m forced to look up into his face instead. He reaches up, cupping my cheek in the soft leather of his glove as his eyes meet mine. His expression is serious, the sharp angles of his face striking in their intensity as he searches for his words.
“The gods,” he says carefully, “I do not know how they will react to you entering the city. This is their home, and never before has a mortal set foot in it. I cannot promise that they will listen to me, let alone provide help.”
“I understand,” I say.
“Hazel ...” He pauses, his jaw momentarily hardening. “Hazel, I need you to be prepared for the worst.”
“The worst?”
My chest tightens as I stare up at him. I try to remain positive despite the flicker of sorrow that softens his eyes.
“It is entirely possible that they will make things … difficult for us once I make my request.”
I try not to let my imagination run wild at this as I nod in understanding. This could be it, the end of our time together. Should the gods be unwilling, then I don’t know how it will be possible for us to have a future.
As much as I want to spend the rest of my life with him, whatever happens, I’ll be forever thankful for the few moments we’ve been given. The very fact he chased my soul into death is more than I could have ever asked from anyone.
Death reminded me what it feels like to be loved, something I hadn’t felt so deeply in the years since Merelda came into my life.
“If that turns out to be the case,” Death says, drawing my attention back to him as he steps back to tear a piece of fabric from the bottom of his shirt, “I need you to know that I will do whatever it takes to protect you, and I cannot promise that there will be no bloodshed by the time I am through.”
Death starts to lift the piece of fabric to his face as he turns back toward the city, but I reach out for him, stopping him in his tracks. He glances back at me, our eyes meeting as his head cocks to one side in question.
“Death,” I start, my mouth running dry as I struggle to give voice to my thoughts.
“What is it, little one?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Frozen here, between the forest and the city, I want nothing more than to profess my love for him … to ask him to touch me, to press my lips to his once more, but I suddenly find I lack the courage.
I’m terrified that asking this of him will only result in rejection; only confirm that westillcannot be together.
Even if I would die a thousand times over just for one more kiss from Death.
One touch.
“Nothing,” I say softly, giving him a soft smile. “I’m ready now.”
I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed when he watches me for a moment longer but doesn’t push me to say more.
Tying the black strip of fabric around his face in a makeshift mask, Death pulls the hood of his cloak up, once again shrouding himself in darkness.
