“If either of us does,” he said after a beat, voice low, “the Veil will collapse.” Their blood cooled between their palms, tacky and dark.
“At dawn,” he dictated, “you walk with me, not against me.”
“I may not kill you, but I am not walkingwithyou,” she bit out.
The dying God only tutted, strolling toward the door with that infuriating ease. Even now she glimpsed how his waning divinity made him reckless. How Death’s own mortality riled some boyish irreverence to the surface, teasing and human in ways that set her teeth on edge.
“Ilys,” he said lightly, glancing back over his shoulder. “It almost sounds as though you don’t like me.”
She waltzed close, voice honey-sweet against his mouth. “I’ll laugh when the light leaves your eyes.” Then she shut the door in his face.
Part III
The Book of the Veil – Part III
"Sealed in the first days, spoken in the last, unbroken until the end of all things."
VII. The Veilmarch (Hiram 3:1-12)
And it was spoken that the Veilwalker is bound by three duties: to sever, to serve, and to walk the path unseen.
And of these, one is sacred above all, whispered only in the dark places where no witness lingers. It is not written in stone, nor spoken in the halls of the faithful. It is not fit for the ears of kings or the hands of priests.
For the Veilmarch belongs to the Veilwalker alone.
Chapter 27
Death is dying.
Death is dying.
Death is dying.
Ilys instinctively placed items in her bag, preparing for the journey. Lift an item.Death. Tuck an item.Is. Lift an Item.Dying.
The words punctuated each movement, every breath. How ironic. How cyclical. How gratifying. After his announcement, the rest of the conversation blurred in Ilys’s memory. She had agreed; for Death’s last march, she would not seek to end his life, as long as she would not be asked to end any others.
But she wished she had asked more questions.How did a god die? What came after? Who would fill the role?
She snapped the bag shut, urging composure to follow. There would be an entire journey’s worth of questions. She had to think of Hanna. Of Morrigan. She must prepare everything andeveryone for her departure. Gone were the days of slipping away, without warning.
She smoothed the fabric of her veil, then slipped the satchel over her shoulder. How strange, that her entire life could be reduced to what fit inside this single bag. The thought made her skin prickle, as though she were wearing a garment too tight. Squaring her shoulders, she crossed the corridors toward the courtyard where Elspeth would already be waiting with Hanna. At this hour, they would usually begin training. Today, it became the place they would say goodbye.
The moment Hanna caught sight of Ilys, she wriggled free of Elspeth’s grasp and ran to her.
“Elsie says you’re leaving,” she said, her voice small and wounded.
