“Oh, right.” I sighed.Thank the gods.
He chuckled at my expression of relief. “Worry not. I will hold your memories dear on the day I return to claim you.”
“I hope it’s not offensive to say that I would prefer that day to be far in the future.”
“If you did not, I would find you infinitely more confusing than I already do.” He looked me up and down with concentration, as if to reiterate his fascination, and my body responded with an infuriatingly involuntary blush. Fighting my embarrassment, I studied him in turn, trying to commit his face to memory. If I could only remember this perfectly, then it would always be mine to have. I would never need to share—never mind that I’d be unable to.
“Are you going to curse me now?” I asked reluctantly.
“What?”
“So that I can never speak about you.” Hopefully it would be a simple affair, but I wouldn’t put it past Death to enact some trickery that rendered me eternally mute.
Instead, Thanatos laughed. His air of guarded stoicism crumbled, and his smile reached his eyes as he continued to chortle. “You are…” He cleared his throat. “That was a hypothetical question.”
“Oh.” My sheepish blush deepened.
“Nevertheless,” he said more seriously, “it is true that you are in danger should you reveal what you have seen and heard. Your elder’s memories were informative enough to know that this temple would harm you should they suspect blasphemy.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” I scoffed. “The council doesn’t deserve to know about you, anyway. If anything, I would’ve told my sisters, but I already promised you I’d keep them out of it.”
“So you have,” he considered. “Will you hold to that promise, then?”
“Yes. If you want me to.”
“Then there is no harm in showing you this. Come.” He stood, and I copied his movement, following him a few paces away from the bench. I watched with bated breath as he stretched out his wings.
“Here they are, curious mortal. Today’s harvest.”
His wings fluttered once, and a soft violet glow appeared around them. I took a step closer and gaped at the sight: this glow was not a single light, but rather hundreds—maybethousands—of tiny violet sparks swirling together. They circled in smooth, lazy movements, drifting slowly along in a dance across his feathers. Souls, every one.
“They cannot sense anything,” he said. “Not until I carry them over the divide. This is the stillness of death. Oh, and thisis where today’s disbeliever resides at present. He will be in the Underworld and convinced of his fate soon enough.”
He chuckled, and I realized my jaw was hanging open. I snapped it shut and swallowed the lump in my throat, searching for words that could convey my awe. “I consider myself very fortunate that you have shared this with me,” I finally remarked. I tore my gaze away from the swirling souls and met his eyes, unsure of what else to say. My mind was buzzing, and the knot in my stomach had tightened into an unfamiliar sensation of wonder and fear and exhilaration.
Thanatos gave me a soft smile and a shrug, his striking eyes gleaming. “Thank you for listening.” There was a silence, and then he folded up his wings and the lights faded away, leaving only the darkness of smooth ebony feathers. “I should go now,” he murmured.
“Will you come back?” I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
His brows knit together. “…Do you want me to?”
“Yes! Of course.”
The corners of his lips twitched upward. “Very well. Come back here, then.” He paused, then added, “Goodnight, Cyrie.”
Before I could respond, he was gone.
3
I wanted to spend the next day mulling over his every word, but I wasn’t so lucky. The week had turned over, and with the new one came the start of preparations for our solstice festival, only a few days away. It would be a grand affair, beginning with an elaborate procession from the city gate to the temple, where sacrifices would be offered to the gods. Then all through the night we would celebrate with song, dance, and ritual prayer, supplicating Demeter at the start of the new season of growth.
Of course, this meant that my sisters and I, along with the rest of the temple, would be hard at work in preparation. After an abbreviated morning reverence, we cleared the courtyard and carefully pruned the gardens until not a leaf was out of place. There were banners to be hung, sacrificial animals to be chosen and purified, and stoneworks to be meticulously cleaned. Everything must be perfect, since the procession, the sacrifices, and the ensuing party would reflect upon our city’s image in the eyes of the gods.
Unfortunately, when the daylight began to fade, it felt like we’d hardly made a dent in the necessary work. My arms were heavy from hauling and polishing, and I probably looked even more tired than usual due to my minimal makeup. Sweat weighed down my light brown waves and pulled against my hairpins, ruining an already sad-looking updo. And there was so much more to do tomorrow! Then, to top off the long day, it started to rain.
At that, the last of us still working put away our projects and headed for cover, moving beneath the decorative overhang which marked the edge of the courtyard. For a blessing, Keeper followed suit, seemingly uninterested in enforcing continued work. An entrance to the temple’s network of buildings was conveniently nearby, and my sisters led the way inside, looking just as exhausted as I felt.
I sighed sadly, finally alone under the canopy, and frowned out into the rain. It was a warm rain, which was not so bad; nevertheless, the volume was increasing, making the doorway to the dry temple halls look particularly inviting.
