Page 116 of Tiger's Trek
Nik had quoted that to himself time and again when withstanding his father’s blows. It was part of the reason he’d survived. He bore the pain because he told himself he was the victor in the end. But he’d since learned, for whatever reason, that most people didn’t think or feel the same way about being still or quiet, or just sitting with their thoughts. He appreciated that the two people in the room with him did. It was rare.
When he finally gathered himself, he said, “I don’t care about my own death. When or how it happens, it will happen. I’ll accept it, no matter what. Death—or you, I suppose—have passed me by many a time. Now that I know there’s a reason for me to keep walking upon this earth, I’m satisfied to continue searching for the why until I find it and accept that my work isn’t finished.”
Death spun his chair back around and stood as if preparing to leave. “That’s an impressive worldview. And fairly healthy, considering your background. Then until we meet again, my dear.” He picked up Zima’s tiny hand and pressed a kiss on the back, then bowed. The little girl giggled in response and tossed her head back, jiggling her bouncy curls.
“I’ll take my leave now. Unless there’s something else? Think hard, young man. I won’t return for you again until it’s your time, so if there’s something pressing, best get it out.”
“Yes,” Nik said. “There is something else.”
“Very well. Tell me,” Death said. “What is it that itches in your thoughts? If it’s not for yourself, then perhaps for another?” he suggested.
Dozens of people he cared about shifted to the forefront of Nik’s mind—Veru, Stacia, the tsarina and her husband, each of his siblings, his maternal grandparents, his mother and the unborn babe, Pasha, the ghosts he’d met, even the kikimora grandmother and her tree-spirit leshi husband. Nik thought he might ask after any one of them. Were they happy? Did they suffer? Were they in a better place? Did they forgive him?
But Nik realized the answers to those questions didn’t matter. What difference did it make now? Death happened. It was done. There was nothing he could do about it now. He couldn’t fix it. There was no going back and undoing the fire or the knife to his mother’s belly. Could saying, “I’m sorry. I made a mistake,” ever be enough to compensate for the loss of an unborn child and its mother?
So instead of asking Death any of those very valid, yet ultimately pointless questions, Nik asked him the one thing he truly wanted to know.
“Is my father in hell?”
Death blinked once, twice, then straightened. “My, my. Now that is a question, isn’t it?”
“Well? Is he?” Nik almost felt desperate to know the answer now.
“I don’t get asked that one often. The truth of it is... I don’t know.”
“What?What?” Nik asked incredulously. “How do you notknow?”
“I think you have me confused with Hades or maybe Anubis. I don’t manage an afterlife or an underworld. I’m Death. Plain and simple. Once a mortal end has been reached, my work is done. Justice? Punishments and such? Not my bag.”
“I think he’s getting upset,” Zima said.
“I think you’re right,” Death agreed.
“Look, young man. I can see you’re very sincere. You really unearthed some baggage here today. Icantell you that your papa died the first time by your hand and the second time, if you can call that half-life living, by your hand as well. That much I do know.”
Nik was quiet for several moments. Death and Zima sat patiently, waiting for him to talk. When he finally did, he smiled. “Thank you for your visit. This conversation has been most enlightening,” he said.
Death stood and bent over Zima, whispering something in her ear, then called out, “Priest! It is time for you to return. I place the young one in your care until such time as she summons me again.”
Zakhar parted the curtain nervously and refused to make eye contact with Death, but the dark-eyed man did glance at Nik once more, who boldly returned his gaze.
After Death melted away, Zakhar retrieved his quill and bottle of ink. “Oh, I see you didn’t take any notes yet. Did you want me to wait a bit?” he asked Nik.
“No, spasibo,” Nik said. “I’ve got what I need.” He pointed at his temple and smiled. “It’s all up here.” He slammed his palm down on the table, making everyone jump. “Serving girl!” he shouted. “Bring me more water!”
Zakhar glanced at Zima and then thanked the serving girl, whose hand was shaking when she poured a glass of water. When she spilled some, Zakhar offered to clean it, but Nik insisted she return and clean it herself.
“What’s gotten into you?” Zakhar asked Nik.
Waving a hand in dismissal, Nik said, “I’m just having a really, really bad day. Now, tell me everything.”
Chapter28
DON’T THROW A PUNCH WHEN THE FIGHT IS OVER
“I cannot submit your eligibility for that fight, miledi.”
“Why not?” Stacia insisted. “What difference does it make who I fight?”
