“Not us,” said Pluto. “Not you. This slipup belongs to The Few.”
Sir White. So that was the member of The Few who had come looking for the librarian. That made sense, didn’t it? Not that I knew where the White Basin, let alone any of the others, went. But then, the souls relinquished to the white vat always leaped to join those hazy waters. Didn’t their pale iridescence and happy springtime colors suggest some measure of serenity, too?
I hadn’t had a chance to view the librarian’s soul directly given that I hadn’t taken it, but there’d been a lightness to her spirit. A heaviness, too. But no darkness. At least, none that I’d been able to detect.
With a long stride, I reclaimed the distance Johann had gained and peered down at the old man, who, tonight, wore sapphire robes and the pointed blue star-and-moon-speckled hat with Mickey Mouse ears that Flora had brought him from Disney World.
Had he really worn that while addressing Sir White? Probably he’d forgotten the ridiculous thing was on his head.
“Grim Grim,” said Pluto, fluffing his wings like I made him nervous. “Grim is grim.”
“What did you tell him?” I probed.
“What else would I tell him?” asked Johann.
“More than usual,” said Pluto. “Grim, I mean.”
I glowered at the bird. Because when didhebecome so fucking perceptive?
“I reminded Sir White that we’ve never had a missing soul,” Johann continued, paying no mind to the bird. “Neither you nor Flora miss collecting them, andInever miss accounting for them. We are each impeccable in our work. So, I told him this was a him problem, and not an us problem.”
“Take that, Sir White,” added Pluto.
Johann actually said that to White? And didn’t shit himself in the process?
Those words were beyond bold ones to give to one of The Few. And I might have been impressed by his gall, but between the four of us who resided in the Hallowed Halls—five if you counted the damn bird—Johann had the most experience with the grander forces of the hereafter. Aside from that, he had earned my respect long before now.
Not that he needed to know.
“And you’re saying White just left… and that’s it?”
“Of course,” said Johann, like I was an idiot for even asking. “Granted, he wasn’t very happy. He said that, at the end of the day, the issue is moot since the missing soul is a Fated. He said you or Flora would be sure to capture it in the next day or so. He promised to return for another inquiry if it did show up via your delivery or hers, but I assured him the soulwasin his realm. Rather insulting, really, for White to jump to conclusions and insinuate an oversight onourpart.”
“Nervy,” said Pluto. “Topsy-turvy. Try to make us feel unworthy.”
I went silent as we reentered the main chamber that housed the Basins, the murky essence of my spirit gathering behind my sternum before congealing into a vortex.
Johann must have noticed the shift in my demeanor, because he paused to glance up at me again, a weathered hand going to brace that absurd hat.
“It is, isn’t it?” Johann asked.
“What?”
“Insulting,” he repeated. “For White to suggest any of us would be so careless as to miss a soul? Especially a Fated.”
“I didn’t miss a soul, if that’s what you’re asking,” I snapped before turning away to trudge for my statue. And that wasn’t technically a lie. I hadn’t missed a soul. I’d just…salvagedit.
“That’s good,” said Johann. “Because if it shows up on our end, Whitewillbe back.”
“Scary Sir White,” added Pluto in a singsong voice. “Red eyes. No face. Disappeared without a trace.”
That description—too accurate—ratcheted my anxiety to ten.
Still, I played it off.
“Return to your desk, old man,” I said, collecting my scythe. “Or we’ll be short names tomorrow.”
Johann didn’t say anything else. But I couldn’t fight the needling inkling that he now suspected me.
