“You already know the answer to that, little one.”
He was right. I did. I’d known it the moment I’d heard him walking toward me. “Father Death,” I breathed.
A smile. “Yes.”
“Are you here to claim me?”
“In some ways, yes. In some ways, no.”
I shook my head. “Please, Father. I don’t understand. Why am I here?”
He raised a silvery brow. “I should think it obvious, little one.”
“Because… because I’m dead?” The words harder to say than I’d expected.
His features softened. “No. You’re here because you were willing to sacrifice yourself, lest the spark wind up in the wrong hands. You, little one, were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for those you know. And those you don’t.”
“So…” I hedged, feeling unsure. “I’m not dead?”
He cocked his head. “Do you want to be?”
“Yes.” The word tumbled out of my mouth as if Father Death held power over me to tell the truth—even ones I hadn’t admitted to myself. I looked at him, feeling a sense of shame. Cowardice, even.
That sadness returned to his features. “Why do you chase me so, little one?”
“I don’t—” I went to protest, but stooped myself knowing it was a lie. I’d had those all-consuming thoughts ofnot-enough-ness. I’d even thought the seven hells weren’t some place far below Lumnara’s crust, but resided on her surface in everyday life. Like when I was called acursed changeling. Seeing the ashen remains of our cabin. Saying goodbye to Mrs. E. Kaelun.
It would be a bold-faced lie if I told the reaper of souls that I’d never wondered if meeting him would be less painful than the pain I harbored on a daily basis.
In fairness, I didn’t believe in heaven either. No, I’d constantly looked for it. Like the sunlight on my face in those last moments. But those moments never lasted, there were like pouring honey over dung and calling it sweet.
Faced with those bleak truths, I stared at him, and as I did, I was forced to confront the real reason why I hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice myself—and gods did it hurt.
“Go on,” he said, encouraging me to voice this knowledge.
Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. “I don’t deserve to be the spark,” I choked out. “It doesn’t belong to me.”
“Pray tell. Whodoesit belong to then?”
“Someone worthy.”
“And you are not worth?”
I shook my head and tears broke free. “No. I’m not.”
“Curious that you would make the ultimate sacrifice and yet deem yourself unworthy.” He considered me before saying,“You came to the world late, little one. Did you know this?”
I shook my head unsure I understood his meaning. I was fairly certain Mother had claimed we’d come early.
“It’s true,” he declared. “The stardust had to wait. You see, it needed twins to incarnate. To a power such as that, years are of little consequence. So, when the fates tugged at your threads, the spark mistook your siblings—the twins as you call them—for you, then quickly withdrew when it witnessed the darkness in their hearts; and not the kind of darkness a star thrives in.” He winked, and despite myself, the corner of my mouth ticked up. “No, theirs was a darkness that wanted to consume the star’s energy for itself. Forcing it to collapse. Greedy.
“But you, Little Star. You are the opposite. Have been since the first thread of your existence—and the stardust knew that truth long before then.”
“It…” I stumbled on the words. “It chose me?”
“Even better—itwaitedfor you. All that time. Foryou. There was no other choice. No other that was, nor would be, but you.”
“But, how did it know it was me, not my twin sister?”
