“Nope.”
“Okay then.” She spins around like she’s done, only to pretty much immediately spin back to me, her eyes locked on mine. “Your mentor guy never explained it to you, either?”
“Never.” He was even less into chatting and small-talk than I am. If I ever asked a question, he’d just act like he hadn’t heard me.
“You spent how long with him?”
“Eighteen years. I got pretty used to the silence.” As much as I hated them. Now, I get discombobulated and sometimes a little dizzy if I find myself in a crowd or when things get rowdy. Yesterday’s ‘shindig’ was like a revelation where I didn’t have to take myself off into a quiet room while it was still underway, a minor miracle, which I’m putting entirely down to my mate being present, grounding me.
“Holy shipsticks.” Echo’s eyes are massive, shining with what can only be pity. Now, normally I hate pity, despise any of the emotions people display that make me feel anything like vulnerability, like I’m showing my underbelly without even meaning to. But then she throws herself into my arms with zero hesitation, clutching me tight to her.
“Oh, Soren. That sounds lonely as hell, but you don’t have to be lonely anymore.”
If it were literally anyone else, I’d bristle at the insinuation that I was anything less than thrilled with my circumstances or my life, especially as a young reaper. But truthfully, it was a long, cold, and loveless time of my life that seemed to stretch on endlessly. When I think back on it, it’s like a black hole of misery and aching despair that spreads deep into my bones.
As Echo would say, it sucked big jock-itchy balls.
Things got better once I got assigned to my garden, and I met Brogan though. And now we’ve got Echo, and it feels like the last piece slotting in. The garden has always been home, but with Echo there, it somehow feels different. My relationships with the others also feel different, like we’re now more than just people that work together who also live together.
Now it feels more like we’re becoming a family. Or at least as much like family as I’ve ever experienced before.
I don’t know how long we stand there for, with Echo’s arms wrapped tight around my waist and my cheek pressed against the top of her head, holding her back like she’s the only thing tethering me to. When I finally pull back, Brogan is watching us, but because he’s less of a jackass than I am, there’s no envy in his expression. He looks happy for us, for me.
“So, the Elysian Fields, huh? Time for a road trip?”
My stomach clenches with something that feels a lot like hope. Wren traveled home on one of Echo’s tours and then, a few months later, she disappeared. She was apparently unhappy or lonely or going through a breakup, all of which is news to me, but it explains why she might have needed a break. Time away from the garden.
Fuck, I hope that I’ve been bent out of shape, worrying for nothing. That we’ll find her there and she’ll be fine and all will be tied up in a neat bow.
At least then we’ll know that Wren is safe. And I will know that I’m not a total failure as the one responsible for all those that live in my garden.
Echo grins over her shoulder at Brogan. “I can give you the full tour. Should we check on Finn first, though? I feel bad leaving him when the garden keeps getting attacked by those gross creatures.”
“He’ll be fine,” I say, despite the anxious feeling I have deep in the pit of my stomach that grows with every passing day. I know that as our collection of souls increases, we’re painting a bigger target on our backs and the soul-eaters will keep on coming. But I also know that Finn can hold his own and we can’t hold off any longer on trying to find Wren.
“Right then, let's hope that we’ll find Wren happy and healthy, back at home and fighting a bunch of Greek soldiers or something,” Brogan says.
Echo loops her arm through each of ours and then my feet are leaving the floor and I close my eyes against the sudden rush of wind and the heavy pressure that buffets my face. My knees buckle slightly when my feet hit the ground, but I fight past any lingering weakness. My mate isn’t wobbly legged beside me, so I won’t be either.
I open my eyes to a sea of pink.
I’m not sure what I expected the Elysian Fields to look like. Mythical and magical, golden sunlight spreading over endless fields filled with battle-worn soldiers sparring and laughing and drinking as a well-earned rest.
The reality is a little different.
It’s still beautiful. The sky is pink instead of blue and the light seems kind of golden. But other than that, it looks like a pretty normal place. We walk along a dusty path toward a small village that looks much like any other. There are small stone buildings with thatched roofs and the scent of wood smoke lingers in the air.
“Weird how the tour came so close to where she used to live,” Brogan says.
“You think Wren swayed it, so that’s the way things went down? Gave a tug to the ol’ strings of fate?” Echo asks, staring around with her eyes sparkling with interest. “Yeah, I remember this place. I remember seeing a herd, or gang, or whatever you call them, of minotaurs right over there. Then when we were about to leave, this shadow flew over us and we looked up and there was a freakin’ griffin flying overhead.”
We walk from one end of the village to the other, asking around about Wren, including the neighboring houses to the one that Wren grew up in.
No one’s seen her. No one remembers her.
Now, I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe for Wren to be sitting here, hanging off a roof with her legs dangling, head cocked to the side until she jumped down and punched me in the arm, telling me off for worrying about her. Maybe for at least one person to have seen her, even in passing.
“I don’t blame her for coming here. It’d be kinda hypocritical if I did,” Echo says quietly. “First thing I did when I escaped the academy was to go home and visit my mom. But the look on their face when they see you with zero recognition, it’s not something I’d wish on anyone.”
