The circle flared, and reality dissolved around them.
XLVII.
BRYNN
When the world reformed around them, she couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath.
They stood on a hilltop overlooking paradise.
Rolling hills stretched toward snow-capped mountains piercing blue sky. The light held at perpetual golden hour, warm sunlight with hand-painted clouds drifting overhead. After weeks of eternal twilight, the warmth on her skin was startling.
"This is..." she started, then stopped.
"Beautiful," Dante finished quietly. "Caelum's domain reflects his purpose. Natural deaths, peaceful crossings."
She didn't look at him. Didn't acknowledge that he'd completed her thought.
Below, waterfalls tumbled from mountain heights, their spray creating rainbow prisms. The sound wasn't just rushing water. It was musical, almost orchestrated. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere, and trees bore both blossoms and fruit simultaneously.
The air tasted of mountain pine and something impossibly pure. Each breath loosened something in her chest, and for the first time since learning about her parents, the crushing weight eased slightly.
Deer moved through the landscape without wariness. Birds with jewel-toned feathers sang in complex harmonies. Butterflies driftedthrough gardens where souls tended flowers or created art that glowed with inner light.
A child laughed nearby, running to embrace a soul that knelt with open arms. Parent and child reunited in eternal peace.
Then her chest cracked open.
Her parents should be here. Should have died surrounded by love instead of lies. Should have found rest instead of?—
She looked away, blinking hard.
“Focus on the present.” Dante's voice cut through her spiral.
"I'm fine," she said flatly. "Let's go."
She started down the path without waiting for him, needing distance. Needing not to feel the pull of his presence when she was supposed to be angry.
None of that anger reached the rest of her. Even furious, even hurt, she was aware of him behind her. The weight of his attention on her back, the cool brush of his shadows near her ankles.
She walked faster.
A path of smooth stone led toward a palace that grew from the mountainside. White marble spires rose in flowing lines, columns catching the light, terraced gardens cascading down slopes.
Dante caught up to her easily, his longer stride erasing the distance she'd tried to create. "The approach is designed to calm visitors. Caelum believes meaningful conversation requires tranquility."
"Does it work?"
"More than most Death Lords would prefer." An edge crept into his voice. "Difficult to maintain proper suspicion."
As they walked deeper into the realm, her shoulders dropped. The sunlight, the music of water, the contentment radiating from every soul. It combined to create an overwhelming sense of rightness.
How could she distrust a place where souls painted and laughed and rested?
Dante's shadows wound tighter at his feet.
The palace gates came into view, wrought from silver and pearl rather than iron and bone. Graceful architecture reached toward the sky.
"Remember," Dante said quietly as they approached, "we're here to investigate sabotage."
