Deathless

Chapter 47: Jackson

No. That one word echoes through my head. Over and over. No. No. No. No. No.

Atropos is laughing, her relentless cackle filling the bitter silence left by the bomb she'd just detonated. The world shifts and rocks under my feet. I can barely stand. My lungs struggle to fill with air, my chest cavernous, my heartbeat an echo that floods my ears. Slowly, I turn to Millie. She's shaking, staring at the ground, horror twisting her beautiful face. She looks up at me, peering out from under those dark lashes. We just stare at each other. Language fails us, words are not enough for this.

When I can't stand the distance anymore, I rush to her, pulling her into my arms. I hold her tight, but then she pushes me away and rushes to Atropos.

"Enjoy this moment." Millie spits, her words cracking but fierce with rage as she roars down at the Fate. "Because it's the last moment that belongs to you. Every moment from now till the end of eternity belongs to everyone else. Enjoy watching us from your cage."

Atropos hisses at Millie but then falls silent, her hands flying to her throat. Her face swells and the smile fades as she struggles desperately to breathe. I turn and Death is pointing at her, just pointing.

She rises into the air, her feet grazing the ground as she hangs like a stringless puppet, her desperate cries turning into guttural sounds of pain. Her modern clothes burn away, lighting up like paper to a flame. Her old robes, ancient and decayed, return. She whimpers as he moves towards her, not walking but gliding across the floor, his dark robes skimming the marble.

He holds out his hand. And they appear, the fragments of her shears. She tries to turn away, her eyes widen in fear, spittle clinging to her lips. The fragments glow, burning hot enough for the white to scold the eyes, the pieces blazing in the palm of his skinless hand.

They fly across the distance, burning themselves into the flesh of her hands. She screams, a pitiful wail that fills the entire room. The smell of burning flesh makes me gag, and I cover my mouth. The shears are not whole but are now a part of her hand. Melted into the flesh. A part of her forever. She sobs out when she sees it, her head lolling as the pain gives way to exhaustion.

"Send me back. Send me back to my prison, but know this, brother. All cages have locks and I will never stop hunting for the key."

They stare at each other, his black bottomless eyes meeting her icy silver ones. And then flames rise from below her feet. She screams, her head snapping back, as the fire burns and blisters her skin, melts the flesh from her bones. I see Millie through the flames; her face sombre and flashing with shades of gold and crimson. And then Atropos is gone. Back to the temple. Back to her prison.

"She's lying, right? It's not true." I turn to Death, waiting for his confirmation. For the truth. And I see it. I see the truth burning in the black holes of his eyes.

"Millie..." I whisper, looking at her. I close the distance between us, pulling her into my arms. I need to look at her, take in her face. She glances up at me and I see it all there, a storm of rage and sadness and fear, all roaring and crashing behind her eyes.

"It's true, isn't it?" she whispers, her voice barely louder than a breath.

I feel him. I feel his presence, cold and fathomless, his glacial fingers reaching into my mind. But I push against the intrusion. When he tries to speak, I shut it down. When I turn to him, everything in front of my eyes is red and flashing.

"Did you do this? This is all for you, isn't it? Some test, some... you've taken everything from me!" I storm towards him, clutching at his robes. "You took my mother, my life, and now you're taking her!"

His voice in my head is silent. And he just stares, remains as still as the statue behind us. Eternity blazes in the blackness of his sockets, in the stillness of his frame.

"You can't have her, you can't..."

Jeanette slowly steps forward. She's back to her pristine self. But her eyes are swollen, her lips tight.

"He says..." Jeanette swallows hard, looking between me and Millie. "He says he ignored fate once, and it cost him a piece of his soul. He will not turn his back on the Plan and he will not let you make the same mistake. Time will be reset... what you did will be undone. Millie will die, as she was always destined to do."

A hand, soft and warm, squeezes my shoulder. Her fingers, gentle, slip under the collar of my shirt, grounding me with her touch. I slowly turn and see Millie, her face still stripped of colour, but her lips set and eyes gleaming. That's how I always see her, a fire burning bright against the greys of a world I had seen across time and continents. She is the only colour in a lifetime of black.

"It's OK," she whispers. She takes my hand in hers, peering up at me with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. "Or... it's not OK, not even close, but all of this was started by someone dying, someone who was supposed to live. And by you taking a life you weren't supposed to take. If I'm meant to die, then... I have to die."

She moves closer, standing on her tiptoes to kiss my forehead tenderly.

"I can't let you go. I can't let you go." My words are a whisper, my voice cracking.

"But it's not about you. Or us. It's not your decision. And it's not mine." She exhales, looking away before her eyes come back to me. "I'm furious. I'm so, so angry, but that anger doesn't change what I know needs to happen. What you know needs to happen."

I pull away and look at her, at the pain on her face, at the fear. But she's strong, so much stronger than me, and I nod, trying to be the same. Even when everything in me wants to rage and scream. I turn to Death, Jeanette at his side, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Tears travelling down her face.

"He says he'll give you back the day. He'll reset time so it starts again from sunrise on the morning of her birthday. You have a day."

Millie chuckles at my side. Her voice is soft, free of the bitterness that is souring my soul.

"It's more than most people get, I suppose." She looks up at Death, though her face is rigid. "Thank you."

"I'm so sorry," Jeanette mutters, her hands travelling to her face. Lucius moves to her side, his face still tense, and he puts his arm around her shoulders. He looks at me and nods sadly. I turn to Millie, and she gazes at me. She reaches up to touch my face, grazing her fingertips over my forehead, my eyelids, my nose and finally my lips. Their warmth lingering on my skin.

"It's going to be OK."

"I should be comforting you," I say, laughing bitterly. I lean down, angling my face closer to hers.

"You should. You're sort of stealing my thunder."

I see it in her face, what she needs. Her bottom lip quivers, pleading with me. It almost breaks me, but she needs more than my rage and self-pity now.

"If you can't be in the centre of attention when you're dying, when can you?" The words splinter. My voice is weak, but I see her eyes soften.

"Exactly." Her stuttered word turns into a broken laugh, her chest rising and falling heavily.

"Jackson?" Jeanette calls, Death still at her side. The darkness of him pulsating, absorbing the light in an already darkened room. "It's time."

I pull Millie tightly into my chest as if I can fold her into me, keep her protected in the cage of my ribs, safely tucked away against my heart. I nod. Looking not at Jeanette, but at Death. At my father.

I lower the black obsidian walls I'd built up to keep him out. His presence in my head is a blackness, like ink dropped into water, his thoughts bleeding into mine. In the darkness of his sockets, I see nothing, no comfort, no empathy, no warmth. But images, visions of my mother flow through my mind. Of her laughing, her face coated in white flour as she baked; him watching her just as Millie watches me cook, of her dancing with him in his human skin. His memories of her. Of their brief life together. Of the misery he feels, the void left by her absence. An abyss that rotted Thomas's soul, that made my father turn his back on everything else in his life, including his son, and now it's about to become mine. And then I hear his voice.

I'm sorry, son.