Sleep didn’t come easily. Mina had lain down on a small padded bench in the captain’s quarters with a pillow and blanket. She tried to focus her mind on her brother, but too many questions, thoughts, and fears plagued her—not to mention, she was in the middle of the ocean on a Fae ship, surrounded by her mother’s family. Instead of relief, a flood of angry thoughts rushed at her. Her mother shouldn’t have kept them from her. She lied.
Mina punched the pillow and tried to get comfortable again, but the gentle sway of the waves didn’t help. They only reminded her she wasn’t on land. She stared at the warm cup of tea on a small table to her right. Her first instinct was to avoid the sea blue liquid with its unique aroma. She’d never in her life seen blue tea, and she didn’t know what it would do to her—or if it was even safe. And she had only just met her mother’s parents. They might be lying about the effects of the tea.
But what other choice did she have?
Mina picked up the blue tea to give it a cursory sniff and picked up motes of fruit and honey. Tipping the cup, she drank the first few sips slowly before she gained enough courage to finish it off. She laid back down on the pillow and tried to concentrate on Charlie.
But her mind couldn’t stay away from Teague.
He was furious. She could see his stiff angry posture as he stormed about the castle, searching for her. Her heart ached to see that she was causing him so much pain and anger.
“You promised me!” he yelled into the empty room. He stormed through the halls and burst through the doors to his own room. He went to a table and snatched up a small silver hand mirror and spoke her name. In the dream, she could see the mirror shimmer as it changed from his reflection to an image of her.
Confusion marred his face as he met her eyes. “You ran away to be with the sirens.” His voice wavered. “I told you what would happen if you broke our deal,” he said, his voice suddenly like steel. “You’ll have to come back to me if you want your brother.” His hands held the mirror so tightly his knuckles turned white. He slammed the mirror back down onto the table then turned and yelled out the door.
“Summon the Reapers and my army. She has broken my trust for the last time.” Mina could see shadows move to do his bidding. She wanted to scream at him that whatever he was seeing was a lie, that she hadn’t abandoned him, hadn’t left him.
Her dream shifted. It was night, and she was running for her life. She could hear the low growl of the omen on her tail. She was running down an unfamiliar street. She tripped in the darkness and landed on the pavement. Her hands and knees were scraped, and she looked desperately around in the darkness for the omen, pulling out a small hand mirror to glance over her shoulder. There it was, mere feet from her, with its eyes pale as death and his snarling mouth.
It lunged, and she dropped the mirror.
She cried out in her sleep and woke up covered in sweat. Winona sat in a chair off to the side of the room, watching over her.
Mina covered her mouth with her hands and tried to keep from crying out, but she was wracked with silent sobs. Winona rushed forward and kneeled beside the couch. “What is it? What did you see?”
“My death,” she whispered. Her body went cold. “I don’t make it in time to save them.”
She was quiet afterward, solemn. Nothing Nix or Ever did could bring her out of the spiral of depression her mind had sunk to. She hadn’t dreamed of her brother. She couldn’t find his location, and there was nothing she could do for another twenty-four hours or until it was safe for her to take the tea again. Mina was so overwhelmed that she knew there was no way she’d fall asleep naturally. Not when she didn’t know how many days she had left to live.
She sat on a crate of supplies and stared across the sea at the setting sun.
The image of the omen’s eyes bothered her so much, she finally gathered the courage to ask Winona about it. She went to stand near her grandmother. “What is an omen exactly? Is it a Reaper or something else?”
“An omen is the form the Death Reaper takes before he strikes and takes your soul. They are a different breed of Reapers, unlike the ones that guard the Fates. Because they are already dead.”
“So can it be killed?” Mina asked.
“No. Only the dead can challenge Death to become the next omen. Then they must spend their half-life collecting souls.”
“How horrible.” Mina shuddered.
“It is,” Winona agreed.
“Who’d want to become a Death Reaper?”
“Someone desperate enough to want a second chance at life, even if it’s only a half-life.”
“Then is there a way to stop it?” she asked.
“There’s lore of a bone whistle that can control the Reaper, but I think that’s all it is—a tale. Because nothing can stop Death when he strikes.”
“It’s how I lost Mom,” Mina whispered. “The omen stole her soul.”
“I know, but I also know that she loved you and would have traded her life for yours in a heartbeat, love. Don’t ever mistake her sacrifice for weakness.”