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“Mmhmmph,” he says after a moment. “That’s very dramatic. I can’t tell if it’s amusing or annoying.”

I want to glare at him, but I’m still stuck on something from earlier. “Are you really going to cure my father’s cancer? Torben Heikkinen? Make sure that he can live out his full life?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he says. “I regret it already, but I don’t like going back on my word. I said it, so it’s done.”

My heart nearly bursts, even though the feeling is bittersweet.

My father’s life will be extended.

I just won’t be part of his life anymore.

“You could thank me,” Death says. “No one ever thanks me.”

“Because no one wants to die!” I tell him.

“Why not?” he asks. “If they knew what was in the City of Death, they wouldn’t fear it. They might even welcome it. Even those who are damned to Inmost aren’t damned forever. We have Bone Matches where the winner can live in the Golden Mean.”

I stare at the black void of his face. “Don’t you want to be feared? Isn’t that the whole point of you?”

Another waft of dead air passes between us, sending an icy chill down my spine. In the distance, thunder crashes and the clouds grow dark.

I’ve made him angry again.

Death stops and takes a step toward me, leaning down, leaning in close, and all I can do is stare into the dark abyss as the abyss stares back. “Do you not fear me, little bird?” he rasps, his voice a black hand reaching into my soul. “Because I spared you on the spider’s web? You don’t even know what fear is, you impetuous mortal. Not yet. I will break you into a thousand little worthless pieces, I will suck your heart through the marrow of your bones, I will take your body, your memories, every ounce that defines you, and grind you into my morning coffee, so that your suffering will give me energy for the day. I will make you beg for death, and even then I won’t grant it to you, all for my own fucking amusement. So go ahead and squander your fear. You’ll need it later. Your life will depend on it.”

He keeps walking but I feel like I’m rooted into the ground, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, the fear making a home in every corner of my body.

“Come along,” he growls, yanking at the chain and I’m pulled toward him, the iron collar nearly snapping my neck. I stumble along, lost in the fear, in the loss of hope, my thoughts and emotions caught in a whirlpool of despair, until the Hiisi forest ends and we come to the desert with the weird orange haze. To my surprise, it’s completely empty.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

“They went after the redhead,” Death says gruffly.

“So we’re walking?”

He starts across the desert, yanking at my collar again, making me cry out in pain. “Now we’re walking.” He casts me a sidelong glance I can’t see. “The nerve you have to complain about your mode of transportation.”

“I’m not complaining,” I manage to eke out, pulling the collar away from my throat so I can swallow. “I’m just surprised that we’re walking to your shadow castle or whatever. Shouldn’t you be riding your unicorn? Shouldn’t you have a chariot made of bones, pulled by five black stallions that breathe fire?”

“You have quite the imagination. Sarvi will be back soon I imagine. The others will head to the castle. Either they find the redhead or they don’t. Sometimes I think there are ways out of this land that even I don’t know about.”

“Who is Sarvi?”

“My unicorn.”

“Do you know how silly that sounds?”

Death lets out a low growl, like a cornered wolverine. “Unicorn as a word makes perfect sense for the creatures. It’s fucking fairy tales that made them into some blessed angel horse. They are anything but. Violent, bloodsucking, voracious equines with a bad attitude. I’m just lucky that they were leftovers from when the Old Gods ruled, and that they decided to serve us. They didn’t have to.”

“How long is the walk?”

“It will take days. Many days. Maybe even weeks because of how aggravatingly slow you are.”

Great.

“Tell me about the Old Gods,” I say, pulling at my collar again.

“I will tell you nothing,” he says.

“Tell me how you tortured Rasmus. What did you do to him?”

“Torture? Trying to bait me with topics I enjoy?” I feel his eyes on me for a moment. “How well do you trust him?”

I balk, glancing up at his shadowed face. “Rasmus? A hell of a lot more than I trust you.”

“That’s a given,” he says simply. “Do you know him well?”

I lick my lips, the dry air sucking the moisture from them. I’m not sure how to play this. I could lie, but that might not make a difference. Fuck, I don’t think anything I do or say going forward is going to make a difference. “I barely know him at all.”

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