Page 10 of A Waltz with Lord Death
Chapter 5
Fire burned relentlessly through Death’s core, a burning power threatening to explode from him. He attempted to smother the flames, but the smoke strangled his nostrils and slithered down his arms to his fingertips.
With eyes closed, he took several long, deep breaths.
“That’s it,” Betha murmured. “Breathe deeply. Try to fight it.”
“I can’t.”
“Youcan!”
Not able to stand the heat of his power any longer, he reached for her hand in a desperate attempt to keep his power under control and threw some of his power reserves into her. She gasped in surprise, but when he opened his eyes, he found that the dark circles had disappeared around her eyes, her weariness not quite as prominent. His power had lent her strength.Interesting.
They sat on a stone bench beneath a large oak in the otherworld, a place he could do no damage with his power. He knew he couldn’t stay here forever, but as long as he fought to control his shadows…
Her eyes widened as she stared back at him. “Please tell me you gave me most of your energy.”
He shook his head. “Only a very small fraction. I have a horrible feeling something awful will happen if we don’t find another Life. I cannot keep my power bottled up.”
He ran a stressed hand over his face before gazing out over rolling green hills and perfect blue skies. The otherworld was beautiful, radiant. Far more breathtaking than anything in the mortal realm. Yet, he could not touch most objects or the people wandering about and living here. His body passed through what would normally be a tangible object. Only if he died one day and transitioned to the otherworld would he be able to interact with his surroundings.
Two spirits wandered by hand in hand as they walked through the long, rolling grass. They froze when they noticed him and Betha.
“And that is our cue to leave,” he muttered. He wasn’t fond of being watched by the dead folk. If only he could cloak himself from them like he could from the mortals.
He took Betha’s elbow and in a flash, they were in the middle realm. A long black and white bridge gleaming with Life and Death’s power connected the otherworld to the mortal realm. Both doors remained shut tight, and only he could unlock them.
A second, conjoining bridge branched off toward a mansion far larger than anything in the mortal realm. It housed spirits moved on from mortality, yet not quite ready to move onto the next life. The light from floating spirit orbs pulsed around them as they made their way to a second, smaller building beside the mansion. Other spirits were in their full-body forms, watching them move about as if they were the best entertainment they’d had in a long while.
Hating the feeling of being watched, he produced a black and white key from his pocket and turned it in the lock of the second building. Both he and Betha slipped inside quickly.
Every time he entered this building, he froze, his gaze glued to the still figure lying in a coffin of time. His throat clogged up with emotion. His feet refused to obey his command and take him closer.
The mortal who had killed Barret with an immortal weapon admitted to hunting him down for years. If only his friend had told him. If only Death had been able to prevent this from happening.
“I miss you so much.” Betha wept over Barret, her body draped over the crystal-like translucent coffin. “Why did you have to go? You left me behind, and I don’t know what to do.”
Thick emotion clogged his throat as he watched her tears fall. Suddenly feeling as if he were intruding on a private moment, he slipped back out of the building and into the mortal realm. He took a deep, shaky breath and turned his gaze up to the sky. The blue skies of summer had transitioned to a cooler blue-gray of autumn. Yellow, orange, and red leaves spread across the land, and the scent of autumn decay stirred his hounds to life at his sides.
“Down,” he ordered in a commanding tone. His hounds did not obey.
One of the hounds leaped forward from his side, and as if enticed by the sudden excitement, the other two followed swiftly at its heels.
He swore loudly when he noticed they were headed toward the city. He skittered after them in jumps of transportation, but no matter how fast he traveled or how quickly he lunged for the shadows, they slithered out of reach.
With each burst of his power, fire ignited at his core. It became hotter and hotter, burning and scorching his insides. When he found himself in the middle of the bustling city, he swore again for a different reason. The shadows burned so bright and hot, building up the pressure inside of him until they exploded outward from him.
A thick gray fog of shadow encompassed the entire town, touching every living thing in sight. He could only stare after the shadows, shock slamming into him in waves as he watched something new, something dangerous, something awful descend upon the city.
He had just unleashed a plague upon the land.
What had he done?
He didn’t get to consider the implications for long when the energy drained so suddenly from his body. His head spun. His chest ached. His body weakened. For the first time in centuries, his mind blacked out, and the ground came at him far faster than he could catch himself.
A frigid cold seeped into his bones from the cobblestone streets, his body unable to move. Screams erupted around him, people running in a panic as the aftereffects of his power wreaked havoc. And yet, he did not possess the energy to rise, nor open his eyes. The last thing he was aware of was a female voice, a voice belonging to Time, and her gentle hands upon his chest. Her power filled him, slowly giving him strength.
What was happening? What was wrong with him?
