Eternal Daughter

Chapter 6: Undertown

It might have seemed gloomy to others, but I loved it so.

My shoes squelched softly on the stone of the open bridge arching across to the wide courtyard on the other side, heavy, rubber soles firm on the path. One of my hands slid across the moss crusted bricks, edges eroded over eons, carved faces and animals winding their way underfoot. I'd spent endless hours on this bridge as a small girl, following the carvings back and forth, listening to my father tell me about the march of life that ended here, in his realm.

I almost made it halfway before he caught up with me, the rustle of his broad wings dusty in the air. The great raven settled on the arch of the thin, iron railing, fluttering his feathers to settle them, beady, shining black eye fixed on me as his big head tilted sharply in my direction.

"Eve," he said, crisp British accent irritating me the instant he spoke, a learned reaction to the weight of his disapproval. "Your father has been waiting for you." A film of white rolled over the beaded black, the inner lid sliding forward in that creepy way the raven had of unsettling me.

"I'm coming, Corvus." It was happening despite everything I'd told myself. I felt it, the bowing of my chin, the rolling forward of my shoulders in response to his presence. It took a great deal of effort not to let him win immediately, though I'd be furious with myself later for even giving in this much to the grumpy old bird.

Corvus, Death's advisor and general pain in my behind, fluttered forward, settling ahead of me so he could glare as I walked by. "Your recent disaster has yet again caused your father difficulty." He preened a moment, the arrogant prat, claws clicking on the stone he clutched. "I really don't know what it is you're up to, child, but whatever game you're playing it's time to end it."

I halted instantly, anger rising, though it didn't emerge. It never came out, no matter how frustrated I felt. Instead I stood there and shook, lips glued together. As if this was my fault, by design, by choice.

Finally able to speak past my frustrating wall of anger, I continued on, hurrying now, needing to escape the nasty creature but knowing I never would. "Dad's in his throne room?"

"Where else would he be, you ridiculous girl." Corvus lifted off, hovering near me, keeping pace with his own power and the occasional flap of his wings. He intended to follow me all the way in. I could feel my skin tightening as it crawled with inexpressible emotion, my stomach forming a hard, hot ball in my gut, bubbling with acid. He knew exactly how to make me feel worse and, whether by design or just natural vindictiveness, Corvus never failed to do his best to make sure I was in the worst state possible when I talked to my dad.

My empathy betrayed me all over again to the point I wished it would just leave me to fall into darkness in peace.

There was no real relief on the other side of the bridge, either, the courtyard crisscrossed by my brothers, hurrying on their way to tasks of their own. Three of them stalked toward me, their thin bodies draped in fashionable clothing, taking to the bridge themselves, heading for the realm of mortals, more than likely. Angels of Death, stunning in their tall, slender maleness, eternally young, with dark hair and blue eyes just like my father. But without the kindness in their faces his always held.

Least of all Kael, my eldest brother, who-as luck would have it-led the small group of my most antagonistic brothers. I did duck my head then, feeling the need to be small and unnoticed take me over. His shoulder brushed me, knocked me off balance, the faint chuckle from his companions enough of an emotional strike to complete the hurt.

"Eve." Kael's heavy, silken voice pulled me to a halt like I wore a collar and leash. I turned slowly to find him watching me, body turned sideways, head tilted down as he smirked with cruelty in his aura.

He of all my brothers knew about my empathy, loved using it against me. He purposely, I now knew, spent enough time with me as a child he gleaned understanding of my pain and turned it into the means to amuse himself. Never mind I was sure he'd done the same to every single sibling of ours. And, I had no doubt, kept careful note what he could use against each one. Because that was Kael.

There was a time when his dislike and disdain could have been crippling. But it was partly because of Kael's deliberate attempt to break me I was able to learn to shed the excess negative emotions and come out the other side. Not that I'd ever thank him or anything.

"Kael." I managed his name at a reasonable volume and tone, voice steady enough.

He just stared and felt at me. My eldest brother didn't have to speak. All the words he'd needed to say had been spoken over the years. It had come to the point Kael only had to look at me and share that small, nasty smile and my aura crumpled in agony.

Not today. I wouldn't allow it in these last hours before my inevitable return to Life and my mother's Garden. I would not fumble and falter when I'd come through a barrage of pain already tonight. I think I surprised him when I succeed in staring back. I know I surprised me. And, to my shock, the source of my strength had buzzed dark hair and a kind, stunning smile, the embedded warmth of Adam's memory lingering.

I turned and walked away, breathing deep and fighting a grin of triumph, certain Kael would follow and shocked when he didn't. He would wait six months, gather his hate, use it against me when he saw me again. Many times in the past just knowing he waited for me, his a***e only building strength with the weeks passing, would have made me run for my room to weep. Not today.

Maybe things were looking up after all.

I wasn't pushing my luck with him though, forcing a quicker pace, carrying me away from him before his well-designed emotional attack could do further damage.

A glance behind me once I was out of his reach revealed Kael glaring still, motionless on the bridge as if uncertain of what to do. Oh yes, he'd make me pay for escaping his nasty attempt to ruin my day. Failure hurt, didn't it, brother? I almost laughed, more out of despair than humor, but I'd take the emotional perk where I could find it.

It was impossible to avoid all of my brothers, though there were no more concerted efforts to bring me low, at least. For the most part, as usual, they avoided me, and I hardly blamed them. The bulk of Death's angels weren't unkind to me so much as their collective decision to ignore me or treat me like a stranger hurt just as much. For the most part, my brothers shared Dad's kindness, his compassion. I suppose years of my constant failure led to this generalized agreement to simply pretend I wasn't there. Likely Kael's delight in my torment only added to the distance.

Thinking of Cadence made me wonder if there were those among them, like her and Nero, who might feel otherwise but lacked the courage to stand out. Heartening, that wistful longing.

Surprisingly, Corvus kept his beak shut after my encounter with my eldest brother, winging softly beside me, muttering occasionally but clearly distracted, his feelings not aimed in my direction. I wondered long ago why Dad's advisor didn't stand up for me. I'd learned to hate the raven for never interceding when Kael's a***e became heartbreaking. Until I'd simply chosen to avoid the large, black bird whenever possible.

By the time we reached the other end of the long parade to the stairs leading into the palace I managed to reassemble a bit of my optimism, enough my shoulders weren't bowed and my neck aching from staring at the ground.

Victories were small and far between in my life.

The main doors stood open above me, the climb to them feeling like it always did, as though I went to some great fate that would lead me where I'd always been meant to go. But instead I found myself inside the vast foyer of Death's palace. I crossed the center, past the bubbling fountain pouring rose scented water out the gaping eye, nose and cheek holes of a giant skull, the faint spray of its wash cool on my left cheek and the back of my hand. Corvus fluttered ahead, leaving me behind at last and I exhaled in relief, slowing my steps just a little so I could be alone a moment and gather my thoughts, what I was going to say to Dad when I spoke to him.

Because it was clear to me, had been for a long time, this wasn't working. That forcing me to try to be like my brothers-and, on the other side, like my sisters-only led to steady, undeniable disaster for the mortals with whom I interacted.

I glanced to the right, down the stone steps that led to the small Chamber of The Dead, where the great Book of pending death sat on its stone pedestal, pale parchment pages scrawled with the spider webbed names of those in line to die.

And looked away quickly, shivering, knowing yet again I'd made a mess of things. Well, I was done with that. No more. Even if my voice shook, even if I had to fight for words, even if I had to go against my own father, this was it.

I was done.

For the hundredth time making that decision and firmly deciding to stick to it despite knowing I would never follow through, I entered the throne room of Death and found him waiting for me.

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