Page 37 of A Waltz with Lord Death
The air briefly stirred, and moments later, Betha stood at the door of the stable. One look at Death, and her eyes widened before she rushed to his side. She fell to her knees and placed her hands on his chest.
“What happened?” she asked in a no-nonsense tone.
“I don’t know. He stumbled in here like this.” The other woman continued her assessment, and Meira couldn’t stop her tears from running down her face. “What’s wrong with him? Is he dead?”
“No.” The air in the barn became heavy like a thick, humid rain cloud. A golden light sparked from Betha’s fingertips and into Death. Moments later, his chest began rising and falling with breath. His eyes creaked open, and her heart fluttered with relief. She kissed his hand and held his palm against her face.
“I feel…” He coughed, a wheeze escaping him as he momentarily struggled for breath. “I feel like a horse just kicked me in the chest.”
Tears came far too fast for her to form a reply other than to hold tightly onto his hand. Betha spoke for the both of them. “Death, you depleted your store of power. You know that’s dangerous. What were you thinking?”
“It wasn’t me.” His unfocused eyes finally fell on her face. His lips twitched in a near smile. “Not on purpose. I lost control. My power. It’s…it’s not obeying me anymore.”
“It cannot happen again, D. Next time, it might kill you.”
“Please explain to me what is going on,” Meira begged. She had never seen him more vulnerable.
Betha explained. “Our power comes with limitations. To go beyond our own limits is to put ourselves at risk. There is more than one way we can die, and that is one of them. Death’s body…” She took the cloth from Meira’s shaking hand and dabbed at the blood beneath his nose. “With nothing to sustain him, it was transitioning him from immortal to mortal, and with it, he would have died if I hadn’t lent him some of my power. You did the right thing calling me here, Meira.”
Her voice shook when she spoke to Death. “I tried kissing you. It did nothing. I am afraid I am not the right candidate for Life.”
“You kissed me?” He looked her up and down with a frown as if assessing her health. But slowly, his frown turned upward into a weary grin. “Meira, love, I must be willing to give you Life’s power as much as you must be willing to take it. I also must be conscious. You took a great risk. If my power hadn’t been depleted, and you breathed it in, it would have killed you.”
“But I couldn’t just let you die.”
His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. A happy flutter warmed her heart when he lifted his hand and wrapped one of her curls around his finger. “It could be hours, days even, until I’m at full strength again, and am able to grant you Life’s power.” He paused. “Meira, you must leave the city. The plague is within its walls. Or…” He winced as he turned his head to Betha. “Take her to the bridge. She won’t contract the disease there.”
“Death,” Betha said quietly as she touched his shoulder. “No matter what we do, it cannot change the inevitable. You know that.”
“But we can try.”
“What’s inevitable?” Meira asked, looking between the two of them. They had many secrets, it seemed. But what was this newest addition about her? “I am not leaving. I promised Elise I would keep her company during the ball tonight.”
“Listen to me.” He cupped her face in his hands and gazed at her in earnest. “It is very dangerous in Quinten. Many people’s death dates are around two days to two weeks. Only about two-thirds of the population will survive past those two weeks. I don’t want you to be one of those casualties. Meira, please.”
Pain filled his expression, and she wasn’t sure if it was physical pain or heartache.
But she’d made a promise.
With a shake of her head, she turned slightly to kiss his hand. “I will not abandon my friend when she needs me. I am sure all will be well. I told you I would give you my answer after the ball. Will you wait until then?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really, no.”
He and Betha shared a look. One of concern. What did they know that she didn’t?
“Meira—” he started to protest again, but she cut off his words.
“Unless you would rather me stay here with you.” She squeezed his hand, noting the fatigue still pressing down on him. “I’m not sure I can leave you like this.”
Betha gently touched her shoulder, a complete contrast to how she’d treated her upon their first meeting. “I will take care of him.”
“But—”
The stable doors slammed open to reveal a couple of stable hands dressed in fur. One of them stopped rubbing his hands together for warmth when he noticed her crouched beside Death. “What are you still doing here, miss? Drop something in the straw?”
Only then did she realize he couldn’t see Death or Betha. She must have looked rather foolish crouched over what appeared to be nothing.
