Scarlet thought that Dante had the sense to leave her to her misery. He left her alone for a week. Today, however, he had knocked on her door at four different times throughout the day. It was dark out now, and he was pounding on her door once more.

She didn’t answer, of course. The last time she opened her door for him, she’d seen Death’s mark on his hand then slammed it back closed in his face. They hadn’t spoken since.

Presumably, he’d spent the last week healing Bronwen. In the meantime, Scarlet’s maelstrom of emotions had settled into numbness. She wasn’t sure if feeling nothing was better than the pain. She barely felt human anymore, just a caged animal.

Dante had a way out. Death had no power to make him stay. But he threw away his chance to get out of here. For Bronwen and… hopefully not for her. She said everything she could to try to force him to leave.

“Come on, Scarlet.” Dante’s voice was muffled from the other side of the door. “I’m leaving. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

There was no lock on her door. He could have just come in instead of trying to convince her to answer him for the last half an hour. At least he respected her that much.

“Please.”

He wasn’t going to go away this time. Finally, Scarlet gave in. She rolled out of bed and flung the door open. The first thing her eyes darted to was the emissary mark on his hand. He noticed and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Death’s sending me to Saridian,” he said.

“Congratulations.”

Scarlet started to close the door again, but Dante caught it with his foot. She was too tired to try to read the expression on his face.

“Scarlet. Can we just talk? I know you didn’t want me to be an emissary but—”

“There’s nothing else to talk about.”

“Bronwen is going to live. My sister is with the Vanguard, the rebels in Saridian, and I’m going to go help them. I know it’s complicated but I’m at peace with my decision—”

“Good for you.”

He was still in the way of the door, so she left him in the threshold and went back to her bed.

“Scarlet.” Dante’s voice was forlorn. If Scarlet had any feeling left in her heart, it might have broken it.

She sat on her bed and stared out her window. It was impossible to look at him. “Can I come with you, to Saridian?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Scarlet saw his face drop. “No. I wish—”

“Have a good trip, Dante,” she choked out. She turned fully away from him now, so he couldn’t see the tears biting at her eyes. Those tears must have come up from her very depths, her last well of emotions. Everything hurt and felt like nothing, all at once.

She heard Dante exhale deeply and then leave, quietly closing the door behind him. Leaving her alone, once again.

Alone was all she was able to be. She didn’t know how to relate to anyone. She was barely a person, for all that she didn’t feel.

If Scarlet hadn’t lied to him, perhaps Dante wouldn’t have become an emissary. But she had, and he did, and now he was gone.

Maybe being honest wouldn’t have saved him either. The truth was messier, and no less cruel than her rejection. She didn’t know how she felt. How was she supposed to know what love felt like, when she barely knew what friendship did? He was her friend. The only friend she had ever had. To sort her feelings into romantic or platonic seemed insurmountable.

Maybe she hadn’t lied to Dante. Maybe she did feel nothing. Her insides felt as cold as the snow that had been falling outside Deianira since that day.

She wrapped herself up in blankets. Trying was useless. Death would send everyone else off on missions, but not her. Scarlet was trapped, and there was little left to do about it.

Death came by shortly after. She didn’t give the courtesy of knocking. Scarlet, in return, didn’t give her the courtesy of standing up or even rolling over to face her.

“What do you want?” she asked her god.

There was a pause. “A favor.”

Scarlet snorted.

Death cleared her throat. “I know you probably want to find Ange.”

“You’re here to compel me against going to her.”

“I can’t use my energy on something like that now.”

“So I should just listen to you anyway, is that it?”

“I hope you will, for your own safety.”

Scarlet let out a sardonic laugh. “What’s Ange going to do to me that you haven’t?”

“Ange has no interest in keeping you alive. She’ll use you for her purposes and throw you away.”

“Ange knows how to free me from you and that scares you.”

“Yes. I’m afraid for you. The consequences of you leaving the Crossworld, or breaking your bond with me, are dire.”

“What exactly are these consequences?”

“I can’t tell you,” Death said, “because of a promise I made to your mother.”

That piqued Scarlet’s curiosity enough that she rolled over to look at the god. Death’s face was serious, and sad. “What’s my mother got to do with this?”

“I cannot explain more, because I told Kiera I wouldn’t.”

“That’s a low blow. Bringing her into this. You just want to trap me, like Riordan has you trapped.”

Death got so quiet that Scarlet could barely make out her next words. “That isn’t true.”

“I’m sure my mother is afraid of me facing Riordan. She always wanted to protect me from all this. But she’s not here, and I’m a part of this fight too.”

As Scarlet spoke, a spark of motivation reignited. The idea of running to Ange had been appealing, but seemed impossible with her inner turmoil and the fact that Death would catch her and simply compel her to stay. Now, Death herself admitted she didn’t have the power to do so. It was time. She’d find Ange, break her emissary bond and be free to leave the Crossworld, to help fight Riordan, to finally save her mother.

“It is not so simple, Scarlet. Please. Wander the Crossworld freely. There are still tribes roaming among the other gods’ realms, though it is against the treaty. Seek them out, live with them, but don’t go to Angelise. In fact, you should leave. Bronwen too.” Her red lips twisted into a grimace. “Riordan will come for me soon.”

“So what—you want me to feel sorry for you?”

Death looked like the life had been sucked out of her. She looked mortal. Scarlet didn’t let that temper her tirade.

“I wanted to help you fight Riordan. But you were too busy trying to protect me or whatever, instead of letting me look for my mother or do anything to help you.”

“I did all I could, Scarlet. I know you do not believe me, but I did.”

She didn’t believe her. But she could disobey her. There was no point in wasting any time, in sticking around until Death could build up energy to cast a compulsion. She rose and pushed past Death.

Death looked aghast. “Scarlet—”

“This is over,” Scarlet told her. “I’m going to find Ange.”

“I told Kiera I would keep you safe.” Death’s voice was small. “It is not safe for you in the World.”

Sparks crackled on Scarlet’s fingertips. “I don’t want to be kept safe. And what an excuse that is—like you really care about your emissaries. You sent the rest to their deaths.”

Scarlet thought Death would get angry, but she just looked defeated. “I know it is hard to believe that I care, given what you have seen, what I have done… and I am sorry for that.”

Scarlet felt her magic overflowing, ready to explode. She had to reign herself in, lest she cause another backfire. “I’m going,” she repeated.

“Do not leave the Crossworld,” Death called after her. It wasn’t a command; it was a plea.

#

The boat that she and Dante had taken to Riordan’s realm was still tethered to the dock, where they’d left it. Probably Dante was meant to take it when he left tomorrow. Scarlet untied it, hopped in, and began paddling across the river, alone.

Last time she’d been in this boat, she had faced the thought of losing Dante. She was going to open a portal for him and send him back to Saridian. She wished he could have gone then, back before he had to sell his soul. She tried her best to put her thoughts of him out of her head as she let her boat drift downstream from Riordan’s realm, toward Cascara’s.

Cascara—the god her mother was attuned to. This thought only deepened the aching in her chest.

Once she reached the shore, Scarlet caught the branches of a tree overhanging the river and leveraged it to pull herself in. She hopped out onto the slick muddy bank, then tethered the boat to the tree. She’d never been to the Galapia Islands, but she would finally get a chance to see what her mother’s homeland looked like once she got deeper into Cascara’s realm.

Scarlet trekked through the swamp, and soon enough the trees changed from the gnarled and grey to luscious weeping willows. The ground became more solid as she went along, and slowly she became surrounded by more color. Plants of all sorts and green moss covered the land around her.

It was like coming back alive, out of Death’s realm of gloom and into one of life. Scarlet drew in a deep breath, the freshness of the air filling her lungs, rejuvenating her.

Large petals blew by on the breeze, carrying a sweet scent through the air, though Scarlet could not see anything blossoming. Curious to see where they came from, she headed upwind, over a small hill covered with delicate grass, which was tinged teal. She wondered if it was the same in the World, as everything in the Crossworld always seemed to be slightly off-color to their counterparts.

Scarlet crested the hill to see a stream flowing at the bottom. On the opposite side was a grove of trees covered in pink blossoms. Her mother had told her about the cherry blossoms on the islands. She had promised to take Scarlet to see them, one day. Now her first time viewing the blossoms, she was alone. It soured the moment of beauty.

She came down the hill and realized she had miscalculated from above—it was not so much a stream as a river. A river, in the middle of the realm? She supposed it did make sense, if this place was a mirror of the Galapia Islands. Perhaps here, the islands were split by rivers instead of the ocean. The water must feed back into the stream of souls.

The river stretched out into the distance, blocking her path forward. She’d have to cross it to continue her search for Ange. It had been a while since she had last swum, but with the months of training with Death, she was more fit than she ever had been.

Scarlet waded into the river as far as she could, and took a few breaths to get her energy focused. She had no pack to get soaked through—in her rush to get out of Deianira, she had neglected to bring food, or any other supplies. An oversight, and a bad one at that, but at least nothing would get ruined in her dip into the river.

It would be a cold swim, so she let the energy she gathered burn into heat within her body. Learning to regulate her body heat with her magic was a skill that would come in handy.

She dove into the river, the freezing river quickly banishing the body heat she had conjured, and began to struggle through the current. Kicking her legs and trying to remember how to stroke her arms through the water, she was making decent progress.

She was cold, but not nearly as much so as she would have been without her magic. Water splashed into her eyes, causing them to sting, but she pushed forward. About halfway across, Scarlet was confident that she would make it.

Then, something started to feel wrong. At first, she thought she’d hit a stronger current. Her movement slowed and she began to flounder. But it wasn’t the flow of water pulling at her, it was the water itself, and it wasn’t tugging her body, but something deeper… her energy? Was the stream of souls tugging on her very soul? She had no choice but to surrender to its grasp.

Her focus lost, the water was free to rip away all her remaining warmth, leaving her frozen. The flow violently pulled both her body and soul along, submerging her in the stream.

Darkness encroached as icy water filled her lungs. At least, if this was the end, she perished in her own pursuits and not in Death’s. What a strange comfort that was, as her vision faded to black.