River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)

“I don’t know. It’s a territorial thing. I guess.”

Her brows furrow. “Did you know that mermaids are very territorial when it comes to hunting grounds? I can understand that. There’s only so much fish to go around. But dick? I mean, where’s the deficit?”

I can’t help but laugh. She actually has a point. “Fair enough,” I tell her.

“And really,” she goes on, “why are you getting territorial over someone you pretend not to care for?”

My eyes go wide and I nearly drop my food. “What? I don’t care for him. I fucking hate him, Bell. I’m his prisoner. And before you bring up the fact that you are too, just know that in my world, prison is a bad thing, power dynamics are real, and grudges are held for life.”

Her frown deepens, creating a line between her brows. “Okay,” she says carefully, her tone icy. “So then who cares if I’ve been with him? He’s had a wife too, you know. There have been other mermaids, other Goddesses. He’s not a God of Virtue and Abstinence. He’s the God of Death. Death has the most power in all the realms. He does what he wants, takes what he can. Sometimes it’s me…sometimes it’s you.”

I shrug. “That’s fine. I really don’t care. I just think it’s weird to be talking about having sex with the same guy, that’s all.”

“Guy?” she laughs, pronouncing the word like it’s foreign. “He’s a God, Hanna. Not a guy, not a man, but a God. You should be receiving him with wide legs and an open heart.”

I shake my head vehemently while giving Bell the last slice of bacon. “No. That’s not how we do it back home. A God doesn’t capture people and use them for his own amusement.”

“His own amusement? I heard plenty of your amusement last night.” She grabs hold of the bacon and wolfs it down. “And in your world, Tuoni doesn’t exist,” she says through a mouthful. “I don’t exist. Tuonela doesn’t exist. But now you know that it all does. That your world is only one of many worlds, all linked by this one. Maybe the Creator is untouchable, unknowable, but the Gods? They’re just as fallible as all of us. The only difference is that they can’t die.”

“Well, they can, if Death gets a hold of them,” I point out. “Which asks the question…what kills Death?”

Bell stares at me for a moment, as if the question takes her by surprise. “I don’t know if anything can kill Death,” she muses. Then a darkness comes over her eyes, turning them the color of rough seas. “Maybe love.”

“Love kills Death?” I scoff. “That doesn’t sound like the prophecy.”

“Maybe losing love,” she clarifies. “Maybe loss of love is what actually kills him.”

I shake my head, walking across the room to my coffee. “You hate to admit it, but you’re an incurable romantic at heart, Bell. If loss of love killed Death, don’t you think he would have died when Louhi left him for that mariner, or whatever his name is?”

“Arranged marriage,” Bell says. “He never loved her. I am sure he tried, but I know he didn’t. He never even wanted to be with her to begin with.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I heard. It was arranged because her father was some demon who used to rule Tuonela.”

“You’ve never met Louhi,” Bell says adamantly. “She’s awful. Death was forced into that marriage because of politics, and in the end, she’s the one who cast him aside. That’s got to bruise the ego.”

“Honestly, maybe Death’s ego can stand a little more bruising,” I say.

“Well, if you want out of this twisted world, Hanna, then your job is to stroke Death’s ego,” she points out with a sigh. “Judging from last night, you’re already off to a great start.”

It sounds bad, but I want to drill her about that. I want to ask her what she thought of what happened, if it sounded normal, or if I really rocked Death’s world. I want my little ego stroked, so I know to keep going. But I manage to keep that to myself.

Instead, I give her the rest of my food and a sip of coffee and get ready for the day. I put on a white empire-waisted gown and bring my hair up high above my head, while Bell reminds me that the full moon is three nights from now. Now that I can leave the room and I know where the Stargaze Tower is, I’m pretty sure her escape plan will go off without a hitch.

Mine, however? That’s still a work in progress.

Raila comes by later for my little tour. I don’t know how crafty she really is, but I don’t underestimate her either. Who knows how long she’s been around, who her alliances are really with, and what she really thinks of me? Because of all the unknowns, I have to tread lightly.

So, where would you like to go? Raila asks as we step outside of my room, black satin hands clasped at her waist.

“How about the Library of the Veils,” I suggest.

There’s a pause, as I knew there would be. I’m afraid that area is off-limits, she says.

“Are you sure?” I ask. “Death did say I could go anywhere.”

Anywhere you’re allowed, she says. I have been given strict orders not to allow you, nor anyone, into the Library of the Veils.

“Anyone?” I repeat.

It is forbidden.

“Why?”

There is magic in there that could overthrow the Master and upturn the whole realm, possibly even all the realms as we know them.

That much power in the Book of Runes, I ponder. If I could get that book one day, I could change so many things. I wouldn’t even bother with Death or Tuonela, I would just make it so that I could be back with my father, back in the real world, and that nothing from this world, nor any malicious shaman, could hurt either of us. I know I have to die one day, and I must admit there’s some comfort in knowing I’ll most likely be put in the Golden Mean instead of the nebulous question mark, but I want to postpone my death as much as possible.

But that’s not why I’ve called upon Raila today. The Book of Runes is just a shiny distraction.

“Well, that’s understandable,” I tell Raila. “Why don’t you give me a tour of Shadow’s End, from the top to the bottom then. Wherever I’m allowed to go.”

I will do my best, she says.

And so I take another tour of the castle, this time with Raila’s commentary.

This is the solar room, she says as she takes me into a large room with floor to ceiling windows. Aside from the iron framework, it’s pretty much a solarium and right now, with the sun trying to burn through the clouds, it’s bright and hot.

Usually Death is in here having his morning coffee, she says. But he isn’t a fan of the sun, even when it’s his own doing.

I take my time looking around. It really is an incredible room with a three-sixty view of the area. Though the mist hasn’t completely cleared, it’s enough that I can make out the craggy mountain ranges to the north, the sea to the south. From here it really feels like you’re on top of the world and ruler of the kingdom.

But it isn’t the view that has my curiosity piqued. It’s the details in the room, each one telling me something about its daily inhabitant.

There’s a black leather chair and footstool with an iron side table beside it, a stack of books underneath. I can just imagine Death sitting there, his coffee beside him, his feet up, book in hand, while the land stretches out beyond the windows. The image delights me for some reason and I crouch down, taking a look at his current TBR pile: The Art of War, The Great Gatsby, Of Mice and Men, In Cold Blood, The Holy Bible, and Lord of the Rings.

My brow quirks up. “Lord of the Rings?”

The Master is a very prolific reader, Raila says, watching me. Have you read it?

I smile. “Yes, I have.”

He says Tolkien got some things right about Tuonela, like Kokko, the giant eagle, but he failed to capture the intricacies of the land, Raila explains.