Or maybe I haven't processed that last one yet, because my heart is still doing something horrible inside my chest. I'm suffocating from the surreality of the sight of her ripped to pieces.
She died in fear. I know that much.
And I wasn't here to help her.
Death has always been a part of my life. I've been surrounded by it for as long as I can remember. I've always been able to sense it, too–like a heavy tide going out, taking with it the spark of life.
But sensing it this time is different. It hurts. I didn't see Lillian’s spirit or feel her move on or say goodbye.
Ineedthat goodbye. If I can't go back in time and change the fact that I wasn't here to protect her, I need to at least see her again. Which is why I sucked up my pride and prayed for the first time in who knows how long when.
Now I sense all four of my matches are tense with fear as my mother stands nearby. Her hood of shadows is up, completely concealing her face as she looms over us in these eerie, bloodstained woods. Another scythe rests on her shoulder, almost a copy of the one she gifted me.
“You came,” I finally manage.
Syntyche dips her concealed head, her voice as smooth and quiet as I remember. “Amusing as it is, I advise against including threats in your future prayers, spoken aloud or not.”
She's the furthest thing from a warm presence, but I don't miss the way my quintet members all flinch away from her voice. Even Crypt looks like he's having great difficulty adjusting to her presence or looking directly at her.
Silas isn't even trying. He's frozen in place, crimson eyes wide as he pointedly looks in the opposite direction of the reaper goddess.
They're terrified of her.
I don't sense anything, but I’ve heard she’s the goddess of fear. Maybe that affects them. But I'm too numb from the pain in my chest to try reassuring them. Instead, I look back at Syntyche.
“I need to say goodbye to Lillian.”
“So you mentioned, in between all the threats.”
I stare at the hooded figure. She makes no sound or movement.
“There must be something you can do,” I finally insist, half afraid I might break down again if this plight doesn't work.
“There is. You just haven't asked.”
What is it with the gods trying to get apleaseout of me? First Galene, now her?
“Please,” I grit, desperate enough to give in.
Syntyche considers for a moment in the dark silence before her hood dips forward again.
“I shall take you into the vestibule between the two lowest planes of existence. The vestibule is the halfway point where the spirits I reap await my brother to lead them to their respective afterlives. You may only be there briefly, for only a fully divine being can linger there without consequence.”
“Consequence?”Crypt enunciates, finally looking at the hooded figure as he gets over the fear she emanates. “No. She stays.”
Syntyche’s hood turns toward him, distaste in her voice. “No?”
“She's not going anywhere without us,” Everett clarifies, managing to look at my mother again. “Especially not if it's dangerous.”
“She will likely return,” the goddess muses.
That makes Silas frown, and he finally glances over his shoulder at the hooded figure, too.
Baelfire scowls. “What do you mean,likely?There's no fucking way we're about to risk?—”
Syntyche throws her hood back, and for a fraction of a second, her face is a skeletal mask so disturbing that it makes all of us flinch away in surprise. Her face returns to normal immediately, like that was just a horrific warning. She looks down at my quintet with no expression at all, but there is menace in her voice.
“I will wipe all memories of you four from existence and watch your mortal corpses molder upon the steeples of my ruined temples if you dare question me again.”
