Like Sebbie’s memories, a movie reel flashed in my head.
The man in black, standing there, the river behind him. I was a hellhound, Crow was there, and Sebbie and the man were talking.
The man in black said, “I’m not sure what the repercussions would be. I have to admit, you’ve surprised even me as of late. I would have said that bringing them with you was not possible, but after the woman and child, I’m not sure exactly what you’re capable of. Perhaps you could transport them there and safely back, or perhaps you could only give them passage there and not bring them back.”
Sebbie answered, saying, “Yeah, I guess I never brought anyone back before.”
But then the man in black had chuckled. He’d given that little laugh, and he’d said, “Oh, but you have, my old friend. You have. And that should not be within your capabilities. But then, you yourself should not have been within my capabilities.”
“Sebbie,” I said, my mind still far away.
Sebbie turned around to look at me.
“The man in black. He said you could transport people there and back as the ferryman. He said you’d done it. That you shouldn’t be able to, but you had. Do you remember?”
Sebbie looked doubtfully at me. “I remember him saying that, but I don’t remember doing it. Like, not at all. Not even a flash of a memory.”
I was suddenly sure of it. Sebbieneededto be the one to take Paul’s soul, because somehow, he would be able to bring it back.
“You have to reap his soul. You have to take him to the river,” I told him.
Sebbie was shaking his head. “I don’t want to,” he protested.
“Trust me, little reaper. Trust me, and do what you were created to do,” I told him.
I put my hand over his—the one that was holding the scythe. “We can do it together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
He looked at me, and I thought I saw fear, but also relief and love.
I lifted our hands holding the scythe up above the sheriff. And then Sebbie brought it down, into Sheriff Paul.
I expected… I don’t know. Blood? Gore? I tortured people, after all, and a weapon like that should do a whole lot of damage. What I got instead was light and heat being sucked into the scythe. Then time unfroze, and I watched the man stab the sheriff in the chest.
There was a lot of blood that time.
We were at the river. Sebbie was back in his pink cloak with his pink staff, and the sun was shining. We were at the dock, and I could see ahead into the field. There was only one person there.
Sheriff Paul.
“Hey! Sheriff!” Sebbie called out.
Crow cawed, and the sheriff turned toward us. He walked slowly up to the dock. Crow cawed at him again, and he stared at her. Then he looked at us.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here, and I can honestly say I’m sorry about it,” he said heavily.
“Oh, no,” Sebbie said, all cheer. “We’re not dead. I’m a ferryman, and Corbin is a hellhound. And a witch, too, which is how Crow is here.”
The sheriff looked us all over again, and then he said, “But I’m dead. I didn’t survive the stabbing, did I?”
“Nope,” Sebbie answered, and he still sounded pretty damn cheerful.
The sheriff sighed. “I should have waited for back up. I’d heard the rumors about that house, and I knew I was going to find something underneath that baby blanket based on how it looked. I was going to call for back-up, but I don’t know. Ihad this weird feeling that I was being followed for the last few days, and it’s made me… wary of bringing other people into my sphere.”
“Ha!” Sebbie said triumphantly. “Toby was right! You mess with the timeline, and you cause the disaster!”
The sheriff only looked confused, and before I could answer, I was a hellhound. Sebbie didn’t seem fazed at all, and he gestured with his staff onto the boat.
“All aboard!” he announced. “Everyone is coming on this trip.”
