The Daughter of Death- *RAYOR*

Chapter 21: Death on the Doorstep

I dragged Nicco and Levy into the kitchen by their ears, and plopped each of them down on a chair.

"Ow," said Levy.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong," sulked Nicco.

"You snuck away," I said, "and you took my scythes. Speaking of which..." I held out a hand. Levy gave me the scythe, pouting. Nicco swung it in the air, nearly chopping my hand off, and I parried the blow. "Nicco."

"Yah?"

"I do not want to get amputated." I snatched the scythe away. "Listen, guys, we can drop in with Blake and Willow and Arielle but only if you ask me and are with me. Understood?"

Levy nodded, still morose. Nicco harrumphed.

I nodded. "You guys will have your own reapings to do in a couple of months. Maybe you'll stop getting into trouble."

"Never," sniffed Nicco, nudging Levy.

"Yeah," he said, after a pause. "Never."

That day, Death came to visit me.

I opened the door to the knock, which sounded unnecessarily loud, and gaped when I saw death on the doorstep. I leaned against the doorframe, trying to look cool.

"Um, hello there," I said.

"I can't stay for long," he said shortly and irritably. "I have better things to do. But I don't want you visiting Blakely."

"What? Why not?" I said, stupefied.

"You've been neglecting your reapings, Aster," he said with a hard look. "And, Aster, you're a bad influence."

"Huh?"

I saw his dark eyes narrowing. "She is too much like her mother. I'm keeping tabs on her. I know what she's been doing."

"I haven't been influencing her in any way, shape or form," I said. "Promise."

"I don't do promises." His voice was tight. "Promises are only ever bad."

He turned away.

"Wait, what if I finish-" He disappeared. "- the reapings?" I let out an annoyed huff. Always showing off. "Nicco!"

Nicco seemed to materialise next to me. "Yessir? By the way, I heard you get told off. Again," he said gleefully.

"Remember the Mirror of the Fates?"

"Yes."

"It can also show you who you want to see, to spy on them but not communicate with them. I bet that's how Death is 'keeping tabs on' Blake."

"Uh huh?"

"Well, we're going to steal it."

We came, Nicco and I, to the Palace of the Underworld. Levy stayed at home in case Mum came, to explain things and recite a fake story. "You're a distraction. What are you going to say again?" I whispered.

"Gonna ask Mr. Death about my reapings," said Nicco.

"Better not call him that," I said. "I will sneak into his room, understood?"

"Yeah, yeah, you get all the glory." Nicco struck another pose. "Hey, maybe I'll be a main character some day!"

"I highly doubt that, somehow."

I watched Nicco as we neared the palace. His mouth was sagging open. It was magnificent- jagged black towers and monstrous doors.

"You know what to do," I said, and slipped round the palace. Nicco knocked on the doors, and entered.

I swirled my scythe, hovering up, looking into windows. I reached the third floor, which Blake said had all the bedrooms, and glided along. One that looked maybe like a guest room, which was stripped bare. Another that looked like Blake's room. It was neat and orderly, black curtains drawn back, black wallpaper, and a coffin lined with black velvet with black silken hangings. There was ebony furniture, and a picture on the bedside table.

I peered closer. It was a solo portrait, and it was of Gabriel. Messy dark hair over gleaming dark eyes, tongue stuck out to the camera. I felt a lump rise in my throat. Forcing it down, I floated to the next one along.

There were an array of scythes hung up, as well as a magnificent four-poster bed which I noticed was dusty. Jars of something green-white and misty lined shelves, which were also dusty. I knew that it was Death's room. He didn't sleep. Maybe that was why he was so grumpy all the time.

"Oi! You!"

I fell out of the air, just slowing before I landed, arms splayed, on the ground. Even so, the fall had winded me badly. I squinted up, my blurred vision clearing. It was a guard, a reaper in black, holding a scythe.

"'Ello," I mumbled weakly. He hauled me up by the scruff of my neck and grabbed my arm.

"Trespassing, weren't you? Death will put a stop to that. There may be another Impotens."

I began to struggle. It hadn't happened for over a decade. How to punish a reaper that couldn't die? You trapped its life force. That was what the Impotens was, which translated literally to powerless. Rather like what Blake had suffered, but after that, you were rendered so weak you wished you could die.

But, of course, you didn't.

I realised that was what was in the jars. The reaper victims of the previous Impotens.

I kicked out. The reaper moaned in pain. Slamming him against a wall, I knocked him out and dragged him behind a tree. Would he remember our encounter? Hopefully, he'd forget.

I drifted up, finding Death's room. The window was closed, the sort that only opened maybe a foot. I heaved it open, and eased my way through it, skin scraping against the window pane. When I looked back, I saw green-silver substance, halfway between liquid and gas, smeared on the ledge.

I wiped it away, shuddering, and turned to the room. It smelt musty and damp. Wrinkling my nose, I found what I had come for almost immediately, the mirror that would show me where Blake was. A shard was missing about as large as my thumb. I took it in my hands, gazing into it, half-expecting my reflection.

Instead, I saw a woman's face. She was pretty. She had bronze skin and dark hair and the greenest eyes that I'd seen. Her features were like that of a statue's. She gazed at me like a hawk. The vision swirled and changed. A scythe swinging through the air, and a scream. Then nothing. What did it mean?

I stowed it in my pocket as I heard voices, easing the window open. It was Nicco and Death.

"Well, Mr. Death, the thing is-"

I rolled my eyes, and so missed most of the conversation.

"- Ugh! Leave me alone! I have business to attend to!"

The door opened, and I dover through the window, instantly turning invisible. I thought Death may have caught the glimpse of my foot as I vanished out of sight.