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The book.
I rummage through my things, but find nothing, realizing I’d washed the dress a few days ago and it hadn’t seen it then either.
My stomach twists.
Could I have lost it in the forest?
My heart sinks as I come to terms with this being the most likely situation. Still, perhaps I should mention it to Death. It’s possible he’s seen it, or—as terrible as I feel even thinking to ask it of him—can rescue it from the forest for me.
This eases my mind, and I push my worry over the book aside for the time being.
Reaching for the cloak, I lay it over my shoulders, thrilled to find it just as warm as it is beautiful. Smiling at my reflection, I finally step out of my room in search of Death.
The clip of my new boots fills the halls as I walk, almost giving me the impression that I’m not entirely alone here.
I feel like a princess as I walk through the palace, my skirts sweeping behind me. Everything that he has given me is far more luxurious and expensive than I had ever expected, and I can’t help feeling guilty. Guilty that I won’t be able to make much use out of them for long, and guiltier still that I haven’t thanked him sooner.
I can only hope that I haven’t offended him.
It doesn’t take long for me to realize Death is nowhere to be found. I search every empty room I can find, but even his shadows have left no trace of him.
Frowning, I realize I have no other choice but to wait for his return. I will not let another moment pass between us without me showing him my gratitude.
Making my way downstairs, I find myself drawn to the main room where he first brought me. A large fire roars in the fireplace, beckoning me closer with its warmth.
Glancing over to one dark corner, I pause, frowning at a pile of strange fabric within. Walking over to it, I crouch to get a better look at it, turning it over in my hand. It’s black, and made entirely out of feathers, but something about it feels disturbingly familiar.
Only when my hand grazes against a metal clasp do I realize why. This is the cloak the witch gave me, but it looks nothing like it now. Gone is the soft pink garment that had done so little to keep me warm in those final moments in the forest.
I suppose it was probably enchanted. I snort at the thought.
It wasn’t long ago that I’d been teasing Cyprian about wanting to see a magician, and now, here I was in the middle ofrealmagic. The thought of Cyprian has the little book springing to mind again, and I quickly search the cloak for it.
Nothing.
Sighing, I rise and settle onto the lounge, my hands folded in my lap as I stare absentmindedly into the fire. Surely, he won’t be too long.
At least, I hope not.
I can hardly wait to not only thank him for his overwhelming kindness toward me, but to show him the results of the gifts he’s given me.
All too slowly, the minutes drag into hours, and I find myself shifting in my spot. Eventually, I draw my legs up onto the seat, leaning to one side as I try to make myself more comfortable.
My fingers itch to be back in my studio, but I don’t give in.
When Death does come home, I know that I’ll be able to hear his footsteps from in here. That alone is enough to keep me where I am. Still, I soon find myself fighting the urge to close my eyes.
I want to be awake when he returns. But it’s a losing battle, and soon I find myself giving in to the coziness of my new clothes, and the warmth of the fire, as I close my eyes.
I find myself wading through a thick fog, darkness licking out in tendrils around my feet, driving me ever forward. Suddenly, I step out of the fog and find myself standing in front of my home.
Frowning, I shiver as a prickling sensation races across my skin and turn my head to find Death pushing his way through the front door.
I stare after him for a moment, my heart skipping a beat in my chest as the blood runs cold in my veins.
There could only be one reason why he’s here.
Father.
