Page 60 of Left Hand of the Divine
She nodded and went to stand with them. I walked back out of the creepy house and into the even creepier lane outside. It was like something out of a Dickens novel. The street was barely wide enough for a single vehicle, and there were no lamplights. The only light down here was from the moon, and it made the shadows look long and unfriendly. Gods, this place gave me the creeps but I was sure the Cemetery District was a lovely place in the daytime…
The evening air was cool, and I couldn’t shake the sensation that something bad was about to happen. It lurked at the back of my mind. A dark cloud gathering before the storm.
My stomach churned with unease as I stared down the empty street, anticipation prickling my skin.
Lila, Penny and Bernard watched me from the window, their pale faces clouded with worry. Part of me wanted to find whatever was holding these ghosts here, but I also prayed it wasn’t something that needed my Reaper sight to see because that meant we would be dealing with something a lot darker and more powerful than we originally thought.
I called my death magic to me and let the darkness sink into my bones, swallowing me in its cool embrace. My skin peeled away, and my long coat morphed into my Reaper’s hood and cloak.
I turned to look back at the window of ghosts, spotting more peering through other windows around me. I caught a glimpse of my reflection, and it still felt alien to see, even after ten years.
Half my face was missing, exposing the bone underneath. It was a bright white and covered in an intricate pattern of swirls and lines, like a tattoo carved deep into the bone. My red hair fluttered around me on a phantom breeze, and my cloak swirled around my feet as I floated a few inches off the ground.
Now that I'd experienced that darkness that lingered in my soul a few times, I was also starting to differentiate it from my Reaper death magic. I feared it. Feared what it could do. It felt limitless and hungry, and I wasn't sure how long I could keep it at bay. What would happen to me when it was finally unleashed? Is that what Erebus wanted? Was Nyx that dark energy swirling in my soul?
My bony hands gripped my scythe as I turned my face upwards to the sky. It was full of stars twinkling in the distance. A yearning filled my soul as I watched them. Almost like they were calling me home.
“Asteri…”
I growled. “Fuck off, Erebus. Now is not the time.”
There was a dark smoky chuckle at the back of my mind, and I felt him settle. Strange that his presence was stronger when I was in my Reaper form. It was like he was actually here with me, though I wouldn’t admit that it was comforting. To himorme.
I glanced around me, double-checking he wasn’t lurking in some shadowy corner, but I couldn’t see him, thank the Gods. I did not need his gorgeous face distracting me.
I shifted my gaze from normal to my ether sight, which allowed me to look beyond the physical realm to the space between us and the dead. Well, the ones who had crossed over.
I was hoping to see a rune circle or some kind of enchantment just hovering over the district, but there was nothing. Just the stars, twinkling in the—wait. What was that?
Something shimmered in the distance. A mirage. I twisted and turned, trying to get a better view, but whichever way I looked at it, I couldn’t seem to pin it down.
“You should look at it from the corner of your eye.”
I yelped and swung my scythe in the direction of the sound.
A hand shot out and gripped the handle, stopping its progress before it could chop off their head.
Erebus looked at me with a salacious grin. “Careful now. Those things are sharp.”
He let go and casually tucked his hands back in his pockets like he hadn’t just done something that was supposed to be impossible.Only a Reaper could touch a scythe, and yet he’d held it like it was nothing more than a piece of wood.
I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand back out of his pocket, flipping it over and back again to look for a mark, but there was nothing. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Hold my scythe and not burn to a crisp.”
“Oh, that,” he replied, his fingers clasping around my skeletal ones. “Part of the magic that makes Reapers also exists in me.”
“Huh?”
He trailed his free hand through the shadowy wisps of my cloak. “This is my handiwork.”
“You made the Reapers?” I asked, my jaw dropping to the floor.
He pulled his hands away, a sadness settling on his shoulders and dragging them down. “Yes. Nyx and I made many creatures. Some were more successful than others, but the Reapers were a favourite of Nyx’s.”
I did not know that. Maybe I should borrow that book of Thane’s. The one on the Origins of Reapers.
