Page 11 of All Hallows Fate

Most heeded the warning, except for a tall, lithe man with a shock of red hair, a myriad of freckles, and a stricken expression, and a shorter man with a shaved head, battered leather jacket, a whole wealth of tattoos, and an intensity to his face that made my stomach tangle.

“That’s close enough,” I warned, proud when the coolness of my voice covered up the sudden mesh of nerves in my belly.

The two men jerked to a halt as if I’d released my magic, looking even more distressed than before. The others crept across the fog-wreathed courtyard to join them, but no closer. Good. I had all this magic and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

“Cat?” the redhead breathed, looking up at me with eyes that sparkled with tears.

“You know who I am?” I asked warily. They might be the family I’d lost, or they might be minions of those who killed me. Power throbbed around them like a pulse, enough that my hackles were raised. I could imagine people this powerful working with Violence.

“Of course we know who you are.”

I narrowed my eyes, my heart a jumbled beat. “Who are you?”

They reacted as if I’d shot them. Recoiling, stumbling back, clutching at chests or throats, other hands curling into fists as if to bear down on the pain of an injury. My own chest cinched tighter at the sight, as one of the men stood stock-still, his eyes shut, crinkled tight, before they opened and locked on me. A sad smile lightened the darkness of his expression, though it did nothing for the sallow brown of his complexion.

“We’re your husbands, little bride.”

9

Death

Cat shook her head, her grey eyes moving over us with a wariness akin to the first day we met, on that lonely moors road with Nightmare’s voice echoing like a threat through the wind. To Cat, that’s what we were: strangers again. But to us, she was the entire world, and it would have hurt less if she’d thrust her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart.

As if the domain suffered at her lack of memory too, a tremor went through the ground under us. Our home looked the same as we left it—decaying and fading, what remained of the buildings in ruins. I felt the edge of the world, far closer than it had been before, the rest of it dropped into obscurity, into oblivion. Another thing we had to fix, and fast, but Cat was my priority now. Even as spirits ran riot across the mortal lands, even as the world around us remained eerily quiet, empty of its dead inhabitants, Cat was more important. She would always be the most important thing in my life, the sun around which my entire being revolved. Even if she didn’t remember me.

I watched a furrow form in her brow, as if a memory was trying to come through, but I knew that was wishful thinking, like I knew what had brought her back to us. Cat wasn’t alive. She wasn’t a spirit lingering to get revenge on her killers or to see her loved ones safely through life. She was like us now. A death god overflowing with newborn magic.

“Can you come down so we can talk?” I asked, clearing my throat when the words bruised all the way up, obstructed by a knot of emotions that made my voice a strangled, thorny thing.

“Come down to make it easier for five strange men to grab me?” Her laugh was caustic and sharp, but bright—lashing with colour and life, in a way I hadn’t heard it in weeks. Months. And suddenly, it felt so selfish to wish she’d remember us. If she’d forgotten us, she’d forgotten the curse, Nightmare, Cruelty, and Violence’s murder. She was freed of its weight, its pain. “I don’t fucking think so,” she huffed.

The realm quivered again, and Ender’s words came back to me, his warnings cutting enough to make me stiffen. Our relationship was part of why the domain had fallen into mist. The rifts between us, encouraged by Nightmare, had started the decay. What would this do?

“Lioness,” Madness breathed, inching forward with his hand lifted, entreating. “We wouldn’t hurt you. We’re the ones who slaughter everyone who hurts you.”

“I can do my own slaughtering,” she replied, nudging Fuzzball away from us.

Tor leapt in front of Fuzzball, throwing his arms out wide until she was forced to dance back. Smoke poured from her nostrils as she huffed a warning sound. Only the fact that she knew him prevented her from attacking him.

“Trample me if you want,” Tor said, looking Cat in the eye. “But you’re going to get your ass down here and listen.”

“Oh, I am?” Cat smiled. It was a threat, that smile, and even with the wreckage her lack of recognition had made of my chest, my cock ached, hardened. “And why should I listen to you, asshole?”

“Because you are the love of my fucking life, and I just held your lifeless body in my arms, and there’s no fucking way I’m losing you again.”

She was quiet for a moment. And then: “You swear a lot, huh?”

Tor groaned, his shoulders slumping. “Please, Cat. Don’t make me call you your full name.”

She frowned, glanced at the rest of us as we dared to edge closer. “I only know my name as Cat. Is it short for Catherine?” She pointed at Pain. “Why did he just wince? What’s my name?”

“Come down, and I’ll tell you,” Tor challenged, lifting his hands to catch her the second she jumped.

She hesitated, but the knowledge was like a carrot dangled and she couldn’t resist. The sight made my heart break. Our beautiful girl, our brave wife didn’t know who she was. And she was desperate to know.

“Just so we’re clear,” she said with the iron ring of a warning, glaring at each of us even if her expression softened when she looked at Madde, silently weeping, and Misery, shaking all over, his bottom lip between his teeth. “I have enough magic to kill all of you, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Miz turned away, his head bowed even as Cat slid off Fuzzball’s back and into Tor’s arms. She batted his touch away, but his hands returned, stubborn, and pulled her into a gripping hug. My arms ached with jealousy even as the sight brought a lump to my throat.