‘Then tell me.’
Thanatos chuckled darkly. ‘I thought we were searching for Allegra?’ He flashed her a wicked smile, before stepping forward into the field of black roses, turning back to glance at her with a silent invitation to follow.
Mal hesitated, frowning. She wanted to demand why he would not simply answer, but pride kept her silent. He would tell her eventually, whether by will or by force.
Her gaze slid back to that movement she had seen earlier. She turned, her heart leaping in her chest as her eyes widened at the sight.
‘What is it?’ Thanatos asked, turning sharply to scan the horizon for whatever had caught her attention.
‘Nothing,’ Mal said, stepping forward, keeping her secret close, as he kept his.
She followed him through the sea of roses, Makaria humming a soft tune under her breath. Yet Mal’s glare lingered across the fields, to the figure that watched from afar.
A creature she had seen before.
A white wolf.
…
‘How are we meant to find Allegra?’ Mal asked as they made their way deeper into the endless fields.
‘We ask the river,’ Makaria answered brightly.
Mal chose to hold her tongue, trailing after her sister through the shifting sea of black roses, trying and failing to ignore the mournful wails of the souls around them, cries that echoed even as their hands continued their work.
Eventually, they reached a river, its waters gleaming like molten glass under the dim light. Along its banks, souls huddled and wept, whispering words too soft for Mal to catch. Some glared into the crystalline surface with hollow eyes, as if hoping to glimpse lost loved ones staring back at them. Others bent low, drinking from the water with desperate, trembling hands.
‘What are they doing?’ Mal asked, leaning closer to Thanatos so that only he would hear.
Ahead of them, Makaria had settled herself among a small cluster of souls. With gentle hands, she smoothed their hair, offering soft smiles, guiding them closer to the river to drink.
‘The river is meant to make them forget their heartbreak,’ Thanatos said, his voice low and steady. ‘If they are truly capable of letting go, they will be free to move on. Most...’ he glanced towards a wolverian boy, who clung to Makaria, sobbing so fiercely his small body shook, ‘most cannot.’
They watched as Makaria coaxed the boy to drink, whispering soft encouragements. For a moment, hope flickered. Then, the boy straightened, his eyes still awash with a sorrow more ancient than time itself. Without a word, he turned andwalked away, his small figure swallowed by the fields. Makaria sighed, her face crumpling with sadness.
‘He couldn’t forget,’ she whispered. ‘They rarely can. Their heartbreak roots too deep.’
Mal turned her focus to the river, wondering whether it would show her anything, some ghostly reflection, some hint of what her heart most longed for. But the surface remained stubbornly empty, revealing only water and nothing more.
Makaria took a strip of cloth and carefully wound it around her eyes, blinding herself to the world. Mal remembered, with a pang, the first time she had ever seen her like this, a ghostly figure with hair like spun moonlight cascading over her shoulders.
Makaria leaned forward, her movements graceful, and cupped the river’s shimmering waters in her delicate hands, lifting them to her lips to drink.
Quietly, Mal crossed the distance between them and lowered herself to sit at Makaria’s side by the water’s edge. She wasn’t sure if her sister needed comfort but she would offer it all the same, simply by being there.
Makaria remained silent, motionless save for the slow rise and fall of her breath.
Time itself seemed to slip away, if such a thing even held meaning in the Underworld, and Mal found her attention drifting towards the far-off horizon. She sat in silence, praying not to gods, but to herself: praying for the safety of her brothers, for Kai to keep free of trouble, for Kage to stay safe in a world growing ever darker. For Mal knew, with a certainty beyond question, that she would raze the world to ash and the gods along with it to protect her family.
She also prayed to her unborn child, and the unknown future that awaited them. Soon Mal would start showing, but untilthen she’d keep it a secret from the world.
At last, Makaria removed the cloth from her eyes and let out a soft sigh.
‘She’s not here,’ she said, her voice heavy with regret.
Mal nodded, offering a small, grateful smile. ‘Thank you for trying.’ She reached out and placed her hand over Makaria’s in quiet gratitude. ‘How does it work?’ she asked, nodding towards the discarded cloth.
‘The river is woven from the tears of this region’s souls,’ Makaria explained. ‘When I drink from it, I can see every soul who has crossed into these fields. The cloth... it helps me to see more clearly.’
