I put my gloved hand in my coat pocket, turning over my most valued possession: the phone I'd stolen from my half brother. I'd stowed it and the tape recording of Evie's life story in my bug-out bag at the cave--merci mon Dieu. The way Dominija and Evie were looking at each other earlier, I'd probably be needing a way to hear her voice soon. Because I'd be on the outs. "I doan suppose you talked her out of her plan?"
"She remains determined."
"I'm not letting her drive off on her own. I'll go without a weapon if I have to."
He drank. "She wants me to keep you out of the fray."
"But you woan?"
"I might." At my scowl, he said, "Perhaps I'd be more supportive of her plan if we could provide a decoy, distracting her foes. I could lure out some of Fauna's animals and put them down. With luck, I could even goad Gabriel into crossing the boundary."
"You? That close to an unpredictable sphere? If you got caught, you'd kill Evie and me. You're a ticking time bomb, remember?"
"I won't get caught. I'm too swift."
"Will speed make a difference? I doan think it's possible for you to stay away from her no matter what you heard. Think about it: if Lark's wolves tore into her, you still couldn't pass that barrier."
"Remaining away would be the hardest thing I've ever done. Battle is easy. Facing my demise is easy. Denying my need to protect her would be grueling. But I would summon the strength." He handed me the bottle.
I tilted it up, then asked, "In past games, has the Empress ever lost herself to the witch? Like permanently?"
"There was no separation between the two, no name for an alter-ego. She was the red witch always. Her hair was forever red, her very eyes green."
And by all accounts, that was a damned bad state. So what had we dredged up in Jubilee? What might she tap into tomorrow?
The wind gusted again, rocking the dish and sending snow blowing across the ground. I pulled my coat tighter and said, "Evie's right about one thing. She's got to get inside that castle."
"If I'd developed an alternative site, that castle wouldn't be all-important. I thought I'd anticipated every possible contingency, but I couldn't. No one could. And now I've left my wife and child so vulnerable that I actually have to consider the prospect of letting her take back that stronghold."
"You never played with the idea of a bolt hole?"
"History told me I had no need. I was raised in a fortification. A strong enough sword meant all was protected. I am the strongest sword alive. So chalk up this failing to arrogance."
"I was raised in a place that couldn't be defended, and I learned early that life was unpredictable. So chalk up my wariness to experience."
"It's served you well, mortal."
Kind of what Evie had said about my pre-Flash hardships. Could all my tough luck in the past be a gift in this future? "Say she can take out Paul. What then?" Would they expect me to let them get back to their marriage? When I needed her like I needed my next breath?
"Regrettably, the advantage is all yours, mortal." He voiced my own thoughts: "You're the only other male alive who knows what it's like to covet her like this."
"I get that you want her back, want your family. But I bowed out before, and you nearly killed her."
In a strangled tone, he said, "Yes."
I'd told Evie that if we could trust that Dominija wouldn't give in to his rage again, I'd let them get back to it. Which meant I needed to do some digging. "I want to look at this from your point of view, walk a mile in your shoes."
He stared at the sphere. "A mile in my shoes? I wouldn't wish that on you."
I could now see all too clearly what his long life had been like. I had no family left. No close friends. Everyone but Evie had died, and I'd lived on, just as this man had done for two millennia. "How much of your rage was Paul? How much was you? Make me understand what happened."
"How can I, when I hardly comprehend it myself?"
"You must've put some of the past behind you. You two were together and happy, non?"
"I knew she was hurting because of you, but I believed that we could overcome any obstacles. Then I got the news that she was expecting. You can't understand my shock. For a time, I thought myself the most fortunate man alive."
"For a time, you were. When I hunted that lion, I saw you through the window. I wondered if you felt what you'd lost. I thought, Would I rather have everything and lose it--or never know that happiness?" Too late for me. I hadn't had everything, but I'd tasted enough to ruin me.
"Even then, I did feel the loss." He eyed me. "Astute mortal. Not for the first time, I am reminded of why she fell for you."
I hated that I enjoyed his praise. But he was a wise immortal, wise even beyond his endless years.
"Yes, I had everything, but then I forfeited all." He clenched his fists, as if he wanted to punch himself. Or Paul?
"How'd it start?"
"At first, stray thoughts would enter my mind, like an idea with no genesis. Memories of her treachery from long ago would feel more visceral. I began to dwell on our past more than ever before. I know now that Paul was already testing his skills, sowing discord. After activating his full powers, he convinced me that she'd betrayed me again, lying about the baby. I thought she had mesmerized me. And being mind-controlled is as vile a curse as you can imagine."
"I can imagine a lot." Under the Hierophant's control, Evie had nearly become a cannibal.
"In Tarot, my card reversed symbolizes the inability to change--which provides the grounds for resentment to grow. He made me burn with it, as I never have before. Had I once harbored resentment toward her? Yes. But I'd moved past it. I'd grown. It would be like you hating her now because you two had a rocky start."
"Rocky's one way to put it." I turned up the bottle, saying over a gasp, "I considered her a stuck-up bitch." I'd had no idea what she would come to mean to me, calling her bonne a rien.
Good for nothing--except making all my dreams come true.
"Under Paul's influence, you would forget all the good. He would force you to dwell only on the negative, magnifying your bitterness." I nudged Dominija to take the bottle, and he drank. "Even after what I'd done in a far-distant past, the loved ones I'd wronged, I nearly repeated my sins on the one I love above all."
"Evie told me what happened to your folks. You were close to them."
Gazing out at the sphere, he said, "Very. I adored my mother, and my father was my best friend. I'd planned to take a wife, and thought their new babe would grow up with my own. Instead I killed them all in the most painful manner conceivable."
"Wasn't your fault."
"And yet . . ." He still felt the anguish, would forever. I knew this because I'd forever feel it over ma mere.
Clearing his throat, he said, "Were you close to your mother?"
"As much as I could be. She didn't make it easy toward the end." Because she'd given up hope. If I couldn't be with Evie, would I? "She told me the people of our family love only once. She loved and lost. Said it felt like something was missing from her chest every second of the day."
"What happened to her?"
My hand went to my rosary. The Reaper had just admitted he'd killed his family. Could I be as forthcoming? Like the man had said: If you can't speak your deeds, then don't do them.
I snapped my fingers for the bottle. He handed it over, and I took a chug. "On Day Zero, I got separated from her. She was stuck in our old cabin. No protection from the Flash."
The Reaper's lips parted. "She was turned."
I swallowed thickly. "Not a day later, she attacked Clotile, goan for my sister's throat. Ma mere was so goddamned strong, so frenzied to drink. I . . . I struck her down. Me, raising a hand to my own mother. Chere defunte mere."
"You had no choice. In any case, she was dead by the time you acted. The Sun Card might think differently, but these Bagmen will never return to how they were. I can sense death, and once the thirst for blood rises up in them, they are already gone."
I eyed him over the rim of the bottle. "That true?"
"Yes. Deveaux, know this: your mother died in the Flash."
My God, that relieved my mind. Another thing I owed Dominija for. "Never told Evie that, no."
"You should. She would understand."
"It's why I've killed so many of 'em." I took another swig. "'Cause if I ever got turned, I'd want someone to take me out before I hurt anyone." I handed him the bottle back, and we sat drinking until a few flurries drifted down.
"There's something I'm curious about," he said. "When it first started to snow, she would grow sad. It must have something to do with you."
"The first time I saw snow was right before Richter attacked. She and I were talking on the two-way radio, and she could hear my excitement."
"First time?" This must be odd for a man who hailed from the snowy north. "And what does this mean to her?" He pulled that red ribbon from his pocket.
Couldn't take my eyes off it, me. "I gave it to her when the three of us were on the road to save Selena. Told Evie to return it to me when she'd chosen me for good."
"I see." He shuttered his expression, but I caught the glint of pain. "She'd intended to give it to you before the massacre. I took it from her drawer after she fled the castle, but I will return it to her." He pocketed it.
"Hell, Reaper, she might give it to you. I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other when your kid was kicking away."
"You say that just when I've decided I'm the interloper in her story with you."
Seriously? I mulled that over for a moment, sighed. "We all have our curses. The people of my blood are cursed to love only once. You're cursed never to touch any but one. And Evie? She's cursed to love us both. She really does, you know."
"She did. Before . . ."
"She still does." Unfortunately. "You know, Evie and me were only together for one night. Took me nearly dying in the trench before anything happened between us. She didn't want to give up on you."
He tilted his head at me. "Why tell me this?"
"It proves her feelings for you never died."
"Thank you. It helps."
I gazed at the cabin, picturing her asleep. "She's due on her birthday."
"Just so," Death murmured. "What if I hadn't escaped the Hanged Man? Were you prepared to raise my son?"
"De bon coeur." Wholeheartedly. "I told Evie that you'd rather me keep her and raise your kid as my own than risk them at the castle. Was I wrong?"
He leveled his gaze at me. "You were not."
Why'd he have to be so damned stand-up?
Straightening his shoulders, he said, "You're a good man. I can think of no one better to be a father."
Before I could ask what he'd meant by that, his eyes flickered to the sphere yet again.