Chapter Twenty-Nine

“I will proudly give all to see Him fall.”

—The Rebel’s Oath

“Mama!” I screamed from across the courtroom when I spotted her emerald dress. Paying no attention to who I knocked over, I elbowed my way through the crowd until I reached her.

She threw herself around me. I gladly breathed in her patchouli perfume and delighted in it, though I shook furiously from what was about to happen to us. Her hands patted my shoulder blades and spine before she gripped my biceps and jerked back.

“You’ve lost weight,” she said. “You’re too skinny.”

“Stop it, Mama. I haven’t lost any weight.”

“I’ve raised you since you were a week old. I know when my baby has gotten too skinny. You need to get a good meal in you.”

“Too late for that,” I whimpered. My eyes betrayed me as they poured tears.

She hugged me tighter, nearly until I couldn’t breathe. And I returned the embrace with equal love. I was relieved to be in her arms but terrified for what awaited us in Erebus.

“Where is Papa?” I said into her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I haven’t seen him in hours.

“Stand here,” a guard said to Mama and me, pulling us apart with a strained grunt. “The trial will commence shortly.”

My stomach, heart, and lungs leaped into my throat when I spotted Garik being led into the courtroom and straight up to us. They got him, too. Underlying his strength was a glint of horror in his expression. Garik was a strong leader and not just any Reaper—Head Watchman. He had seen and done things that were vampires on his good conscience.

A shudder ran through me. Mama noticed and tightened her grip on my hands.

“Be strong, babygirl.”

“I want to get this over with,” I said.

“So do I,” said Garik as he settled in next to us.

I eyed the Romanesque courtroom of skull-covered walls. It was crammed with wooden chairs encircling a judge’s bench. Chattering Reapers packed the open spaces. They fired the three of us slanting glances. I had a feeling they’d been paid a few Obols to be here.

Across from us, a giant tapestry had been haphazardly strung between two Doric columns. Woven into its autumnal colors was the blindfolded goddess Justice balancing a set of weights.

I didn’t bother to glance at the cameras, but I did look at Mama. Her face was strong, emotionless, and exactly what I expected. Papa might have been the physically stronger Reaper, but Mama possessed a force that I admired now more than ever.

“Stand for Head Reaper Marin,” a Reaper announced from the back corner.

Marin stepped into the room in his standard outfit of black slacks and a turtleneck. His pallid head glistened in the incandescent lights. Everyone—except for the three of us—followed his lead when he sat down behind the judge’s bench.

Wood groaned as everyone settled into his or her seat. A hush lingered as Marin adjusted items on the desk. I eyeballed the brass pocket watch he pushed toward the left-hand corner. He shifted the watch to the right and then the left. When it was exactly where he wanted, his eyelids turned up to the spectators, and my pulse accelerated.

“Bring in Eidolon Hume.” Marin’s voice carried across the deadened room.

From a back corner, a collection of Reapers dove out of his way as Brent, still that frightening skeletal face with gray skin, trudged toward us. Garik and Mama quickly turned away after accidently looking this demon in the eyes.

Despite his wretched appearance and his bloody navy blue jumpsuit, Brent strode to stand before Marin like an imprisoned king. My gaze called to him, hopeful that he would look at me. But he wasn’t the Reaper who had once belted out The Cure. Brent was steadfast and intense like the beast of legend.

“You are Scrivener Dormier’s assigned Grim Reaper,” Marin said. “You’ve known this since you pilfered your list from the Registry Vaults.”

Whispering swelled through the courtroom when Marin paused.

“Stand across from your assignee, Eidolon Hume.”

There was a catch in my throat when Brent’s cold eyes swept over me. He took up his position as Marin had demanded, refusing to look me in the face.

A familiar figure entered from the same door that Brent had walked through. In his red jumpsuit, a bright contrast to Brent’s navy blue, Chad the Eidolon marched to Marin, clicked his combat boots on the floor, and saluted.

“Take your position across from your assignees, Chadwick.” Marin flicked his hand with dispassion. He was disappointed in his Eidolon. And he should’ve been. Chad had failed to protect Lethe. He lost face because of a petite Scrivener. The truth made my eyes sparkle with triumph, even now.

Chad’s salute weakened, and he followed the same path as Brent but didn’t stop across from me. He stopped in front of Mama and Garik. Together, they stiffened. Mama’s fingernails cut into my elbow.

I pushed against her, seeking her comfort and giving her mine.

“The defendant Garik Purdue, Head Watchman of the Province of Québec, is being charged with high treason, a Level Ten Offense, for which the punishment is Erebus,” Marin said, devoid of emotion.

I looked across Mama to meet Garik’s eyes. He already had that appearance of resignation that everyone gets when they face their Grim Reaper.

“Garik, after our conversation, please tell everyone what you have chosen.”

Garik broke rank with Mama and me. His hands dangled by his sides. The faintest quiver of his fingertips threatened his forced calm. “Any offer from the Head Reaper that isn’t a promise to restore our population of Scriveners, and help Reapers to achieve balance is an offer against Styx.” Garik rested his full attention on Marin. “Did you think I would be so shallow as to take your bribe to save myself, forsaking everyone else? You are a fool, Head Reaper. And I would rather die than submit to you any longer.”

Brent’s eyes were on me. I felt him compelling me to look at him, but I couldn’t. He would tell me in no words that I shouldn’t follow in Garik’s path—that I would be foolish to give up. As an alternative, I squeezed Mama’s hand with my elbow.

“Is this your final decision?” Marin asked.

“This has been my decision for ages.” Garik took another step closer to his Grim Reaper. When I would have expected Chad to snap at the chance to take Garik down, he hung his head.

Garik flipped his palm upright. In the center was a silver coin, like the coins that appeared between humans’ lips at their death. Because we were already halfway between the living and the dead, our Obol, our payment to our ferryman, appeared before we crossed over. And it was a payment that none of us wanted to hand over, especially not to a rogue like Chad.

The towering Head Watchman stood proud, contrasting Chad’s slouched shoulders. I waited for Chad to pluck the Obol from Garik’s hand. The anticipation of it nauseated me.

Chad gave Brent a sidelong glance and then put his hand on Garik’s shoulder. Chad’s nostrils flared as he held Brent’s attention. He then took the Obol from Garik and stuffed it inside his jumpsuit’s pocket.

The grip Mama had on my arm had cut off blood flow to my hand.

I breathed in with Garik.

The room stood in silence when Chad’s touch on his assignee’s shoulder took effect. There was nothing gory about it. This ferrying was not like what I had seen from Brent. No wicked ghost with extended jowls. No monster screaming out as it drew a life away.

After a few tense breaths, Garik’s large frame crumpled, and when his body struck the floor, he scattered into a pile of ash. His heaped clothes were all that remained of the Head Watchman.

No one spoke. The room seemed poised between astonishment and perhaps disbelief at seeing one of our own die so unceremoniously.

“The defendant Lorelei Balanchine is charged with high treason, a Level Ten Offense for which the punishment is Erebus.” Marin wasted no time. “After our chat, what have you chosen, Reaper Balanchine?”

I turned to Mama. Inside me, there was no sign of the rebel I wanted to be, no strength in my legs or assertiveness in my shoulders. I was weak with fear. And I didn’t give a damn.

“Mama,” I squeaked. In the motionless and hushed room, it felt like a scream.

“It is okay, babygirl.” She put her hands to my cheeks.

“No!”

“I’ve made my decision.”

“Mama, I can’t go on without you.” I couldn’t see her through my tears. Where I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry—that rebels don’t cry—I was now swift to let it go.

But I wasn’t just a rebel right now.

I was someone’s daughter.

“S’il vous plait, Mama.” I ached to pull her into an embrace, close my eyes, and open them to find out it was a horrible dream. I couldn’t even hug her with my wrists bound as they were.

“I’m not afraid,” she said, with the same doggedness that I had always admired in her—the same strength I had used to challenge Chad and Marin. “I’m ready.”

“But I’m not ready to lose you.”

Her thumbs swabbed the tears from my eyelids. She gave a kiss to my cheeks as she had whenever she kissed me goodnight when I was young. How had she summoned this courage when she was frightened hours ago? What was it that gave her so much confidence to go to her death willingly?

“Everyone has to go,” she said as I crumbled between her hands. “Some will today.” She glanced at Brent. “Some years from now.”

“It’s not your time.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” intoned the Head Reaper. “As it wasn’t for you to delay Eve Cassidy’s death.” Marin’s voice might have shaken me a moment ago; now it enraged me. “I offered Reaper Balanchine exemption as I offered Garik and you exemptions. It’s her choice to choose banishment.”

“It’s not her choice.” I broke from Mama’s hold to face Marin. “It wasn’t Garik’s choice or hers or mine. We either serve you, or we die. There’s no choice in that. Don’t think you’re covering your ass by giving us some asinine option, Marin.”

“Ollie,” Mama tried to pull me back. I resisted.

“This is horseshit. You want Styx to believe you gave us choices, that you’re a merciful leader. But you’re a goddamn tyrant. You’ll force us to choose Erebus instead of assigning it to us because you’re a coward. Do it yourself, if you’re so powerful. Don’t make your worker bees do it for you, Marin.” Brent put a hand against my chest before I reached across Marin’s pedestal desk. I hadn’t realized I had travelled or that my arms had fired up as furiously as my hands inside the mitts.

Coolness slithered into Marin’s perfect face, but I could see he wanted to rip my arms from my body and devour them whole. He would’ve if he were a bolder Reaper. Instead, he rose from his chair and leaned over his desk. A smile parted his lips.

“Don’t let her go to Erebus,” I said through clenched teeth.

“It is not my decision to make.”

“Don’t let her go.” I slammed my mitted hands onto his desk. It rattled the little brass pocket watch.

“Eidolon Hume, subdue your assignee.”

I shoved Brent off when his hands landed on my shoulders. “Marin, don’t do this. You’ll regret it. I’m warning you.”

His empty black eyes honed in on Mama behind me. I circled back to her, intent on dissuading her from choosing death if I couldn’t convince Marin. I deflated at what I saw in those lavender eyes. Mama wouldn’t change her mind. I saw something I had overlooked throughout my life. Mama was more of a dissenter than I knew.

Rebelliousness rooted itself all the way down to her core.

“Mama?” I found my way back to her hands. Her fingers cupped my cheeks.

“I’m not afraid of banishment,” she whispered in my ear as I sobbed on her shoulder, breathing in her lavender perfume.

“Don’t cry for me. I’m not scared,” she said. “I love you, babygirl.”

“I love you, too, Mama,” I said, somehow. “Je t’aime.”

As she started to pull away, I cupped my mitted hands around hers because I had no real influence to keep her from her destiny. She gave me a wink and then turned to her Reaper.

Mama stretched her hand toward Chad, just as Garik had done, and flipped her palm upright. There sat a silver Obol. I lunged to her side to stop her, to intervene and somehow win her back, only to be stopped by a pair of hands on my shoulders.

“You don’t have to do it,” I cried. “You can change your mind.”

“Would you change yours if I begged it of you?”

No.

I wouldn’t, Mama.

Brent had begged me to choose life, and I begged her to choose it, too. Clarity struck me so hard I couldn’t breathe. So I stared through the tears dangling from my eyelashes to see Mama looking back. Her freckled cheeks were bunched up from her grin. I managed to smile myself. God, I loved her freckles.

Chad put his hand on her shoulder. He would ferry her as he had Garik. In a small way, that brought me relief. I wasn’t there when my birth parents had been executed. But today, I stood alongside the Reaper who had raised me, loved me, and taught me what a true rebel was.

And I was the last thing she saw before she collected into a pile of ashes at my feet.