Page 22 of All Hallows Fate

“I’m fine,” he murmured, as if his brow wasn’t dappled with sweat, his eyes rimmed with redness. A tendril of his magic brushed my knee, my chin. “Cat, I’m fine. I’m already healing.”

“You’re crying,” I hissed, finding my hand already moulded to his cheek, my thumb sweeping away a tear.

“Ah.” He winced. “That’s not because of the burn.”

My eyes must have flashed because he hurriedly added, “I have allergies, okay? Even as a god, even dead as I am. Allergies are my sworn enemy, and this damn field is full of pollen.”

I allowed a trace of a breath out of my lips, relief ripping a sudden weight off my chest. “Allergies?”

“Vicious allergies,” Pain confirmed, reaching up to cover my hand on his cheek. “Birch, oak, grass, you name it, I’ve got it. Just don’t tell the others; I don’t want them to think I’m lame.”

More of that relief pulled lead weights off my chest, one by one making me lighter. “Your secret’s safe with me,” I promised, trying to pull my hand away. Pain clutched it, pressed my palm to his cheek as he scanned my eyes, scoured my expression for… something.

“Are you okay, Cat?” he asked, his voice pitched low, just for us. “Ignoring all the stuff that happened mortal-side, you just woke up here with no memory, alone except for people who are strangers to you, with a quest I’m not sure you fully understand.”

“I have to do these things, or I can’t wreak vengeance on Violence,” I disagreed. “I know exactly why I’m doing it.”

His thumb stroked the back of my hand, sending a flutter of movement through my belly. “Who gave you the list, darling woe?”

Another name? How many did these men have for me? “A friend,” I answered after a beat. “I can’t remember him, it’s like someone forced their way into my head and ripped out my memories of him, too. But I can remember the things he taught me.”

“Huh.” Pain blinked, long lashes sweeping over green-hazel eyes that glittered in the fading sun. “Yeah, we all have that feeling when we first become gods. We can remember learning how to be a god, but not who taught us, or where that happened.”

“Oh.” So the mysterious man taught everyone who passed from life to death god…? “Is he your friend, too?”

Pain shrugged and reluctantly lifted his hand off mine. My skin tingled where we’d touched, my awareness of the area so acute I almost chased his fingers to clasp them again. Instead, I tucked my hand against my side. “If we were friends, I forgot that.”

“I think I have to go back for him,” I murmured. “But I don’t even know where he is. And I can’t do that until I’ve ticked off everything on the list.”

Pain rose to his feet and held out a hand to help me up, the flutters growing in strength when he pulled me to my feet.1 “What does the list say anyway?”

“Step one,” I replied, turning to eye the Wake, the circular tower built of a dark grey stone except for the glass inlaid in its conical roof. “Get my scales from that tower.”

I could feel them, like a thread wrapped around my ribs, tugging me towards it. Similarly, threads tugged me to each of the gods around me, that cello string vibrating deeper, louder. Trust your bonds. I was trying to, starting to.

Kill those pricks.

I intended to.

“Cat,” Misery called from across the long prairie grasses. He knelt beside one of the spirits I’d taken out with my magic, not entirely on purpose. I needed to control my inner beast, to master my emotions or my magic would erupt at any moment, and that would be disastrous around people who could be killed. But I couldn’t help feeling proud at the spirits knocked to the floor, clutching their heads or staring dazed into the distance. They’d stopped screaming, at least.

“What is it?” Death asked as we all converged on the place Misery knelt, sixty spirits scattered over the ground, some groaning, some speaking something I couldn’t decipher.

“They keep saying—” Miz began.

“Queen,” several ghosts spoke at once, a haunting murmur.

“That,” Misery finished, peering up at me. “They’re unharmed. If anything, your magic knocked them out of Violence’s control.”

That brought a smile to my face, even if the “queen” comment unsettled me. I didn’t want to rule anything, I just wanted Violence to face his judgement.

But when I took a step closer, my eyes on the arched doorway to the Wake, the spirits moved as one, kneeling where they’d fallen, their heads bowed.

“Queen,” they said again.

I exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Death, then Misery.

Tor broke the silence, shrugging. “Fine by me. If they want our wife to be their queen, I’ll crown Cat myself.”