Deathless

Chapter 37: Jackson

The island is the last of the Ethereal's places in the Mortal realm—consider it a retirement home for titans, a storage locker for gods. The garden of Eden, Tower of Babylon, Labyrinth of the Minotaur and hundreds of others, all relocated and placed here to be hidden and protected from mortal interference. It's also the birthplace of Scythe, the place where Death brought his first apprentice, where he taught the first reaper his trade.

Using a nearby tree, we'd awkwardly scaled the wall and were now walking through the garden of Eden. The repressive heat is milder here, and the trees, flowers and plants that surround us are rich and vibrant. Millie is looking around, eyes wide, marvelling at the beauty all around her. Me, I'm watching her—the soft awe on her face, the spark that has returned to her eyes.

"This place is so beautiful."

I smile, turning around to look at her properly. It forces her to stop. Her face is gentler now; the anger fading.

"I know these aren't the best circumstances," I say cautiously, "but I'm glad I'm getting to show you this."

She looks at me and I can't read her expression, but a ghost of a smile passes across those rosy lips and for a moment I get a glimpse of the Millie I usually see. The one who doesn't hate me. Then her eyes harden and she shakes her head.

"And I wish I had my camera," she says sharply before walking past me and deeper into the Garden. "Where exactly are we going?"

Sighing, I catch up with her, pushing tree branches out of her way as I walk by her side. She glances at me in a way that tells me I won't be getting any thanks.

"There's a back entrance to Death's old place, hidden in the far wall of the Garden. Trust me, we don't want to announce to everyone that we're here."

She frowns, turning her head to look at me.

"You think someone here wanted Death gone?"

"I don't know. He's the most powerful of all the Ethereals, the original, so to speak. What's happened shouldn't be possible. And that's why I choose not to trust anyone right now."

She raises an eyebrow and walks quietly for a moment. I can feel the tension radiating off her, a question desperate to pour from her lips.

"Maybe it's a good thing?" She turns to me, her voice a little more than a whisper. I can barely hear it over the faint buzzing of insects, the sultry breeze stirring the fresh leaves. "No more death, no more suffering. Maybe it doesn't have to be the end of the world?"

She stumbles on a root, and I catch her arm to steady her.

"Trust me, there will be plenty of suffering. Resources will run out in a matter of weeks. No food, no water, no medicine. People in pain, with no end in sight. No way of knowing if it will ever end. Doesn't seem like a good deal to me. The people I reap, some are ready for their lives to be over. They've lived long lives, happy ones for the most part, and now they're in pain, their bodies weak, their minds shutting down. Death can be a kindness."

She falls silent for a moment, her lips tightening, concentrating hard on the ground.

"Do you think... do you think Mum would have felt that way? Glad I mean?"

She looks at me, her bottom lip quivering, and I want to tell her. Tell her I know exactly how her mum felt when she passed over. That I know because I was there, that I was the one who put my fingers to her flesh, commanding her heart to take its last beat. I should tell her the truth, but there's no coming back from it. If I tell her, she'll never stop hating me.

I know that better than anyone.

"I'm sure she was glad not to suffer anymore," I say carefully. "But no one would ever be happy to leave you."