Page 241 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
Ifshe could get back.
The serenity was only broken by the crunch of their shoes in the grass, the occasional chicken squawk, and Jack calling to them by name. The sweet aroma of pine shavings and nearby berries mixed with the damp, ashy smell that somehow the chickens hadn’t lost in death met Hallie’s nose as she approached the pen.
The chickens all huddled together toward the side of the fence, squawking and carrying on. Jack sped up. Had something killed one? Surely not. How could a chicken die twice? Maybe some other undead critter had gotten into the pen. She hadn’t been around enough of them to know if they were naturally curious creatures or not. They seemed rather determined to peck whatever it was to death…or to death-er.
Hallie rubbed her head. She needed more sleep.
Jack opened the little gate and stepped inside. He shooed a few of the birds away, trying to determine what had them acting so strangely.
A chicken lay on the ground, gray and translucent, like a ghost from an old bedtime story. Jack stopped. “Oh, Hester. Course it’d be you.”
Hallie stepped up to the fence. “Has she passed on?”
Jack shook his head. He stepped back and then left the pen, joining Hallie at the edge. “No. Not sure if there are others in the village, but it looks like Hester has suffered from whatever’s causing souls to go missing in the night.” He hung his head. “It’s different when the souls have been ferried. We aren’t sure why or where the souls who go all gray like that go. It’s like they have one foot here and another somewhere else. Gran’ll have to deal with it when she gets back.” He checked their water trough and then headed off toward the trees, Hallie scurrying behind.
“I’m sorry.” She walked fast to keep up with him. “But chickens die all the time, so I’m sure another could replace her soon, right?”
A few orange and black butterflies fluttered by on the wind.
He led her along the path that wove around the edge of the trees and entered the woods further up from the cottage. Before he could answer, a glittering cloud of undulating dust popped up beside his head with a soft crack, almost like someone had popped their knuckles. Hallie gasped, but Jack just sighed. He waved the dust away with a swipe of his hand. He turned and looked past the cottage. Hallie turned too. She didn’t see anything but the cottage and field of daisies.
Jack shrugged and moved on. “Probably just a glitch. That Gate hasn’t worked right since Gran came through.”
He started up the path again. Hallie looked back once more at where she’d arrived, but when nothing caught her attention, she hurried to catch up. Jack looked over. “And to answer your question, yes and no. Sure, bushels and pecks of chickens die every day—get it,pecks?—but not everyone comes to Souls Meet. Only those who weren’t ready to move on. A good few still come here, but even among those, most souls accept death as soon as they arrive. The ones that don’t? Those are the ones Gran helps.”
“So when you die, you either arrive here or go wherever the final afterlife is?” Hallie asked, still confused. She desperately wished she had her sketchbook. “And Gran…helps them realize they died?”
The path twisted around an oak that must’ve been centuries old by its girth. The sunlight barely peeked through its branches above, but the bit that did created a lovely little pattern on the pathway.
A trio of field mice skittered across the roots intersecting their route ahead.
Jack stuck his hands in his pockets. “Mostly. I’m rubbish at explaining things properly, but she didn’t come home last night, so it’s her fault I’m picking up her slack right now.” He threw her a crooked grin. “She’s got a fancy title and everything. The Ever Soul. But she’s overworked, and that’s where I come in. Been helping her for a bit now. It’s a good job. Keeps me busy.”
Warmth pulsed in her core. Whether or not this was all in her imagination—which she was beginning to believe it was not—it looked like Jack might’ve still lived his dream in a way. Not even death could stop him.
A bit of the guilt she’d had over taking the funds to go to University after his death fell away. They’d both been able to pursue what they loved. Her power bubbled up again, but unlike before, it wasn’t painful or overwhelming. It was comforting.
She welcomed it with open arms. It was one of the few things keeping her sane, and for once, she was grateful for its presence.
They walked the rest of the way to the little village in silence. As they turned the last corner and the path opened up onto a valley dotted with houses in the same style as Jack’s cottage, he paused and swept his hands out before him.
“Welcome to the village. It’s the only one, but the tavern’s chef makes the absolute best bacon. Said he worked in theSunken City’s most expensive restaurant before he died. Said a grease fire burned the whole thing down with him in it. Awful way to go. But I’m selfish. I hope he stays a while longer here instead of moving on. Before he leaves, I need him to tell me his secret to the perfect crisp.”
The ease with which her brother chatted about a man’s violent end disturbed her. It also made her think of the Kyvena fire that Kase had accidentally started that had caused Ana’s death. She pushed her unease away. Jack, here in Souls Meet, must have had a rough time adjusting too. He hadn’t been ready to die, and he still hadn’t accepted it. How could he? Maybe hearing of other people’s more terrifying ends made his feel a little less daunting.
They walked through a small field of new sprouts. Someone must have planted them in the last few weeks. A few sprigs poked above the soil in neat rows. It all still felt otherworldly to Hallie. “Why is there a tavern? I feel like it’s odd that people continue to live as if they never died. Wouldn’t that make it harder to accept death?”
Jack shrugged. “It’s not a bad place to be, sure. And those that don’t want to move on quite yet end up helping out for a while. The tavern’s barkeep’s been here longest out of all of us barring Gran; even he don’t remember how long he’s been here. His ale is quite nice, but his fresh orange juice in the mornings is to die for.”
He laughed at his own joke, but stopped when Hallie didn’t join. “Too soon? Anywho, he’ll probably move on here in a bit. Longer you stay up here, the more memories you lose. Gran entered through the Nether, so she won’t lose hers. As for me, Gran gives me a special elixir I gotta drink regular enough to keep mine intact. She came up with it herself, said I can only drink it every so often so I don’t’ run out too quickly because it takes some of her power to make. The ingredients are alsosparse in here.” He paused. “We usually don’t tell anyone about the losing memories part, not until they refuse to move on. Sometimes the knowledge helps, but most times it doesn’t.”
“And the barkeep? Why hasn’t he moved on?”
“Said he wouldn’t mind losing some memories.”
Hallie didn’t have much to say to that. Would she begin to forget her life just like the other souls? If she stayed long enough, would she forget Kase? If she waited for him, would she even recognize him once he finally arrived, if he did at all?
She reached for the pocket watch around her neck, only to be reminded yet again that it was no longer there. Hopefully Jack wouldn’t ask about it. He’d never known she had it, so the odds were probably not, but she’d conveniently left it out of her story from the night before for that reason. Vaguely, she wondered if it were somewhere here in Valora.
