Death's Apprentice: A Grimm City Novel (29 page)

“You did it.” She clutched the baby tight as she looked back up at him. “You found her. You saved her.”

She reached up with one hand and laid it against the side of his face. Her touch lasted for only a moment before she drew him down into a kiss.

His knees weakened. He had to wrap both arms around her shoulders to keep from falling. Sheltered between the two of them, Ren-Lei chortled even louder, apparently amused by the strange actions of grown-ups.

Then his thoughts cleared, enough to realize something deep inside. Just like the Devil’s curse had foretold, he’d discovered fear, as he’d always sought to do. But not fear for himself—it was fear for the ones he had come to love.

What if something happens?
He felt dizzied and appalled just by imagining all the world’s unseen hazards.
And I’m not strong enough to protect them?

He held on to Ling even tighter, as if somehow he could make it impossible to let go.…

*   *   *

Nathaniel watched the couple embracing in the distance. If they didn’t forget about the baby and crush the poor thing between themselves, everything would be fine. For them, at least.

He turned toward Blake. Before they had spotted the young woman running out of the battered office tower, the soldier had just about been ready to plunge into the chasm in order to knock on the Devil’s front door. He saw that Blake was still there, his back to him, silently peering down into the molten depths.

“You know I’m going down there with you, right?” said Nathaniel. “Just give the word, and we’ll ring his bell together.”

No reply came from Blake. He still stood motionless at the chasm’s edge.

“Because I don’t feel like giving up on this halfway through, you know what I mean?” He tilted his head to one side, peering at the ragged soldier. “I’m starting to enjoy being my own master. And it feels good, finally making a difference…”

He had thought that Blake was preoccupied with his own dark, brooding thoughts. No words, no movement—but he suddenly suspected that something else was going on.

“Blake?” He stepped to the edge of the chasm and leaned slightly forward, so he could look into his face. The soldier didn’t seem to even notice him, his gaze fixed on the magma below.

Which wasn’t moving, either.

He looked down at the tongues of fire, which had been flickering out of the red-hot stone but were now frozen in place, like a photograph taken of a volcano’s interior. He noticed as well that there was no shadow cast at his own feet; it had remained where he had been standing a moment ago.

In the distance, Ling and Hank were also fixed in place, as though they could gaze into each other’s eyes without end, not even speaking or breathing. Beyond them, bits of falling rubble hung suspended against the now cloudless sky.

“Hello, Nathaniel…”

He turned, and saw the familiar face of Death. His old master.

Death studied him, peering deep into his eyes. “You’ve changed, Nathaniel … It seems that since I saw you last, you have grown into a man.”

“I’ve been through a lot, I guess … since the last time you saw me.”

“I know.” Death gave a single nod. “I have been aware of every step you’ve taken. And in some strange way, I have been … impressed.”

Nathaniel turned away and looked out over the battlefield and its wreckage. He didn’t want to look back into Death’s eyes yet. Not until he’d said what he needed to say. “There’s something I need to tell you…”

“I can see that.”

“It’s about my life, and what I want to do with it.”

Death watched him without emotion. “Go on.”

“I don’t…” Nathaniel found it difficult to find the right words. “I don’t think I can work with you anymore.” He turned back, hoping Death would understand. “Since today, I’ve learned what it’s like to help people. Living people, I mean. Not just the dead like it was before. And you know what? I like it. I like the fact that I can change a person’s fate. So I intend to go on doing that for other people from now on. I want to set off on my own, and help as many people as I can.”

Death’s pallid face frowned a little in confusion. “I’m sorry, Nathaniel, but I don’t understand. What do you mean, you have changed a person’s fate?”

“Ren-Lei … we saved her.” He glanced over to the unmoving couple in the distance, and the frozen baby giggling between them. “Because of us, she can grow up and live a long, healthy life.”

Death’s expression didn’t change. “Nathaniel, what you have achieved tonight has been impressive, as I said. But if you believe it has made a difference to anything, you are wrong. You saw the Scroll of Deaths yourself. Everything that was marked down upon it has come to pass. All those who were destined to survive have survived. And all those who were due to die have died. Or at least, they will have done, once the problem that your interference has caused has been corrected.”

A dark suspicion entered Nathaniel’s thoughts. “Corrected?” he said. “In what way?”

Death cast his gaze across the tiny human being in Ling’s arms. “With the baby. The one you call Ren-Lei. She was set to die last night in the fallen angels’ temple. And die she must. Your interference has merely postponed her death, not cancelled it. Her soul still needs to be harvested. And
that
is why I am here.”

“No!” Nathaniel’s voice turned taut and fierce. “You can’t. Her life’s been saved. We fought to save it. Do you have any idea how much blood was shed so she can live?”

“And you believe that matters?” Death’s tone remained level and unemotional. “The laws of life and death must be upheld, Nathaniel. The balance must be maintained if the world is to proceed as it should. You know much about the workings of the afterlife, but you do not yet know everything. And if you don’t believe that, then come with me, and see for yourself why the child must die.”

Nathaniel stood silent for a moment, considering his alternatives. In the end, he saw that he had no choice. “All right, I’ll come with you…” he said. “But only to see what you mean.”

Death held out his waxen hand, ready to lay it on Nathaniel’s shoulder. But Nathaniel stopped him before the hand could touch him.

“Hold on—” He motioned to the frozen figure in the filthy overcoat, standing transfixed at the edge of the chasm. “If I go with you, what will happen to Blake? Without my help, will he be okay? Will he beat the Devil, and get what he wants?”

Death looked at the figure. But as soon as he saw the grime-encrusted coat he turned away again, uninterested. “Such a wraith is no longer my concern,” he said. “I only deal with those who pass on from life to death—not those who are trapped between the two. However, to ease your human concern, I will tell you this.… Whether you help him on his quest or not, it makes no difference. The wraith’s fate will remain the same, however you act.”

So there’s nothing I can do for him
. Nathaniel looked again at his friend’s black-smudged face and tangled hair.
No matter what I decide …

“Just so.” Death had read his thoughts.

“Then show me…,” said Nathaniel. “Show me what I need to know.” He saw the waxen hand rise up again and lay itself upon his shoulder. “Take me back to your realm one last time.”

28.

“I’ve been here before.” Nathaniel gazed around at the chamber. “But it seems like a lifetime ago.”

Billions of lights extended in all directions around him. The carved pedestals that supported their glass vessels stretched on far beyond the limits of what Nathaniel could see. The ancient, low-ceilinged chamber reached into the distance, seemingly without end. Above him, he could feel the weight of the earth, as if the groundskeeper’s cottage, surrounded now by emptied graves and tombs, was at the center of all things.

“Why did you bring me to the Lights of Life?” he asked. “What’s here for me to see that I haven’t seen before?”

Death walked a few yards down the chamber’s length, stopping in front of one of the vessels. “Come,” he said. “This is Ren-Lei’s light.” A cold fingertip touched the side of the glass. “It shines brightly, growing stronger all the time.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Nathaniel as he joined his former master by the glass. “She’s with people now who love her.”

“True … However, that is not what I’m here to show you. Instead, look there—”

Death pointed to the air above the glass. To the space between the vessel and the low-lying ceiling.

Nathaniel looked to where he pointed, and to his surprise, he saw another, fainter glow hovering in the darkness. It was so tenuous and dim, it looked as if it might disintegrate at any moment.

“What you see there is a soul that is waiting to be born,” said Death. “But because of what you’ve done, it has not yet been able to find a place in which to ignite. Instead, it is fading away into nonexistence, even as we speak.”

Nathaniel looked at the glowing cloud with concern. “I see…”

“But do you?” asked Death. “I have told you many times, Nathaniel, each soul here is governed by the rules of Fate. The order in which these glasses are emptied and refilled follows a predetermined plan. According to that plan, Ren-Lei’s light should no longer be here. But because it still is, you have in turn condemned another soul to die.” Death’s eyes mirrored the faint cloud of light as he regarded it. His face remained emotionless, but nevertheless firm. “The life you see here is waiting to replace that of the girl you saved. And it will be a fine life, I can tell. It is a life that will achieve many great things in its allotted time. Many people will find happiness because of this life. And many others will be inspired to be better people because of its example. In short, this is a life that will benefit the world and take it forward. It will be a glorious life, like only a handful of others throughout human history. But now, due to you and your selfishness, this extraordinary life is threatened with destruction before it has even been born. And I cannot allow that to happen, Nathaniel. No matter how much you beg me.”

Death made a move to lift Ren-Lei’s glass, ready to extinguish her light by force. But before he could, Nathaniel stopped him.

“Wait—” He put his one good hand on the glass, too, and gently pressed it back in place. “If that light above is destined for great things, how do you know the same isn’t true of Ren-Lei’s? Maybe … maybe Fate
wanted
her to be saved. So that she could do the world some good as well.”

“If that had been the case, then her light would have been provided with a different glass.”

“But … isn’t that still possible?” Nathaniel looked across the chamber at the countless glass covers. “What about all those other people who were killed tonight? They must have left some empty vessels behind them. So if the light above her needs Ren-Lei’s glass, then why not move her into one of theirs?”

“Into another vessel…” A look of amazed wonder appeared in Death’s gaze. “Only you, Nathaniel, could ask such a question.” He turned away, casting his eyes over the billions of flickering lights. “It is an intriguing thought. And yes … perhaps her light could be moved into another glass, if one was empty.” He shook his head and turned back. “But there is no such glass. All the others were filled the moment the lights inside them died. Search this chamber as you wish. There is not an empty vessel to be found.”

For a moment, Nathaniel made no reply. A realization, still faint as the unborn soul hovering above Ren-Lei’s, had begun to form inside him.

My face
 … An image returned to him, from the last time he was in this chamber.
That was why I saw my face here, above her light
. He knew now that he had glimpsed something which had been hidden from his former master.

“Tell me something,” he spoke at last. “You’ve always said that you can’t see my fate. That it’s closed to you. Is that still true?”

Death gazed into his eyes, and nodded. “It is.”

“So … if you don’t know when my death’s going to happen…” The words came slowly as he worked out the possibility that he had glimpsed. “Then that must mean that no other light has been planned into the system to take over my glass when I’m gone.”

“What you say … is true.” Death’s gaze rested upon him, trying to work out what he was thinking. “The uncertainty about your death has meant that no light has been put aside to replace yours. Your glass will remain empty when you die.”

“Then there’s the answer!” It was all clear to Nathaniel now. He’d come this far. Now he had no choice but to follow his chosen journey to the end. “Let me die instead of Ren-Lei, and then transfer her light into the place I leave behind. Because that’s possible, isn’t it? You could do something like that, without it doing her any harm?”

“I suppose—” Death’s gaze shifted as he mulled it over. “It could be done … If I permitted it.”

“And let’s say that was the case—how long would she be able to stay there, after she’s moved into it?”

“That is … impossible to say.” Death had trouble keeping up. “She would have the right to stay there until a new soul could be worked into the plan to replace her. But because of the complexity of that, I cannot say for certain how many decades, or even centuries it would take.”

Nathaniel smiled, amused at the notion of little Ren-Lei living so long. “And what about her health? Could you guarantee me that she’d stay fit and strong, and never suffer from a single day’s illness in that time, no matter how long she lived?”

Death slowly nodded. “If I wished it, it would be so.”

Nathaniel drew in a deep breath.
So it’s clear
 … He gazed down at his burnt arm. It was still a charred mess, yellowish serum weeping past the burns’ blackened edges.
But that doesn’t matter now. Nothing does
 … He brought his eyes back up to his old master’s face.

“Then please…,” he said. “As a parting gift to me, do me this one small favor, and let me die in Ren-Lei’s place. Keep her Light of Life safe for me, and look after her for all the years of her life. Then the two of them can both exist together. Both Ren-Lei, and that other soul that’s hanging in the air above her. And who knows?” he smiled. “With them both alive like that, at the same time and place, maybe they’ll even meet each other one day, and make the world a better place together.”