Page 247 of The Spider Queen
“Like the merrow,” I said, remembering what Cassandra had told me. “Their afterlife is Atlantis.”
He nodded.
“Hunter?” I asked. “He’s there?”
“In theory.”
I frowned. “In theory? What does that mean?”
“It means,” he began, “that Hunter never truly lost his mortal heart. He was merrow in body, but not in spirit. So I have no way of knowing—”
“You mean his soul could just be—out there? Floating around, trying to pick its afterlife?”
“In a nutshell. Yes.”
“Cass told me he found peace,” I murmured.
“For all she knows, he has. But because I am Guardian, and I have past knowledge of all other Guardians, I know things that others don’t.”
“What happens to me?” I blurted out. “And you? When it’s our time to—when we—”
“If that should happen,” he said slowly, “and I don’t see that occurring for a long, long time… Even after I step down, and our son becomes the new Guardian, I won’t pass on. Our afterlife is the Elysian Fields. If you and I don’t die in battle, we will decide together when we want to take that adventure.”
“Oh,” I said.
“We’ll go together,” he said softly, bringing my hand to his lips. “Wherever we go, whatever we do, we do it together.”
“Together,” I repeated.
Thane picked up the golden cage and threw it off the bridge. Six pairs of white wings sprouted from the sides. They flapped faster than a hummingbird’s and shot up into the mist.
“Where did it go?” I asked, my neck craning up, still trying to see the cage, but it was gone.
“Back to Heaven. To be used again.”
My mouth curled up in humor. “Immortal recycling. You guys are good for the environment.”
He doffed a non-existent hat and smiled, “Just trying to do our part, ma’am.”
Chapter 59
The next few days were a blur of weighing souls.
For thousands of years, every soul that passed on went to Heaven, regardless of whether or not it should have been there. Now that the angels were cleaning house, so to speak, we were quite busy. Well, Thane was busy. Gabriel, along with a legion of other angels and Auri, filled the courtyard with golden cages. Thane had servants load the golden cages onto wagons and then bring them to the door of the bridge. I offered to help, but he told me it wasn’t my duty. We’d gotten into a few heated arguments about my responsibilities. He wanted to pamper me and begged me not to overexert myself. Concern over me and for our child bordered on annoying. I didn’t need to be kept in a bubble of relaxation and boredom.
Since he refused to utilize my help, I spent my time in the archive room. There were endless shelves of books and scrolls for me to dig through. I wanted knowledge—about this world that I hadn’t even known existed—and probably would’ve continued being naive about if it hadn’t been for Thane. I wanted to learn everything as fast as possible; it didn’t matter that I had all of eternity to do it.
Thane would leave our bedroom before I’d even awaken, and he’d come to bed long after I’d fallen asleep. One night after about a week of our incessant routine, I was propped up against the headboard, a tome on my lap about the creatures of Purgatory, when Thane entered our bedroom.
His eyes flashed in surprise. “You’re awake.”
“You’re exhausted.”
Thane’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I can’t keep up with the demand.”
“The souls are backlogged.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you being cute?”
