“Please,” Kiera choked out. Her daughter rested on her lap, unmoving. “Save her.”

Death rested upon her simple wooden throne, remaining engrossed in the examination of her long braid rather than looking down from her dais at Kiera. The color of Death's hair always reminded Kiera of blood.

Blood. Kiera was bleeding, but her daughter’s wound was more urgent. Scarlet was beyond the help of a healer.

Death finally deigned to speak. “I told you having a family was a mistake. All you did was give him a target.”

“You’re sure your warnings didn’t stem from more personal reasons?” If Death held old grudges against her now… well, then it was over. “Either way, it’s years too late for this argument. She’s all I have left.”

Death rose from the throne, her green eyes blazing now that they’d locked onto her subject. Her rising voice echoed off the bare stone walls of the desolate throne room. “You have nothing because you have accomplished nothing. Where are my results, Kiera? Riordan is still out there, terrorizing me.” She glanced down and waved toward them. “And you, apparently.”

“I’m close. I have a lead.”

“You have nothing,” Death repeated. “I won’t waste my energy on you.”

“Riordan came after me personally. You don’t think that means something?”

“Then tell me.”

Kiera gritted her teeth and decided how to spin her story. “You were right to suspect Angelise. After she left, she made some… discoveries.”

A new intensity sparked in Death’s eyes. “Tell me everything.”

Kiera looked down at Scarlet, stroked some of the dark curls out of her much-too-pale face. “While my daughter is caught between this World and the Nextworld?”

Death descended back onto the throne. “And why should I save her? Perhaps it would be better for you to have fewer… distractions.”

Kiera let out a shuddering breath. The wetness seeping through her cloak was warm—not the swamp water she had trudged through to get here, but her daughter’s blood. She didn’t know how much time Scarlet had left. What she did know was that Death’s sudden nonchalance was feigned. The information Kiera held was everything the god had been seeking.

“Eva, please.” It had been a long time since that name had touched Kiera’s lips. She had to appeal to the human part of the half-divine being. “Save Scarlet, then I’ll tell you what I know.”

Death’s expression darkened. Kiera’s tattoo, the two overlapping circles on the back of her right hand, began to burn. The pain made Kiera grunt involuntarily; it was an unpleasant reminder of the magic that bound her.

“Are you sure you want to play this game? You cannot hide what you know.”

“So be it. Use our bond to compel me. But if Scarlet dies, if you let her die, I’m done.”

“Done?” Death’s eyes widened for a moment before she smoothed her expression back to neutral.

“Ange broke her bond. I can do the same.”

“You wouldn’t.” Death’s voice was small. Tight. “We had an agreement.”

“We did. But if you make me choose between you and my daughter…”

Death pursed her lips. “It’s not so simple. She’s far gone and my powers are strangled.”

“Even if you don’t think she’ll survive, I beg you to try. Please. For everything we once had.”

The moments it took Death to contemplate were an eternity to Kiera. “Fine,” she said finally. Bitterly. “I will try. But the information comes first.”

Kiera spoke quickly, her heart caught in her throat. “Ange gathered a small group of mages. Others that… were willing to break terms laid out in the magus treaty.”

“Artificing?”

“Yes.”

“Bold.” Death’s hand went to her crystal pendant. Kiera was surprised she didn’t turn to anger; the god did not look kindly upon artificing. “The artifact they made, will it work?”

“Do you have any doubts that Ange will accomplish whatever she sets her mind to?”

The low growl that escaped Death’s throat reminded Kiera she’d hit yet another sore spot. “No. I suppose I do not,” Death said. “But what exactly has she set her mind to?”

Kiera bristled at the question. Firstly, because her daughter’s life slipped further away with each passing moment, and secondly, because she couldn’t afford to botch the delicate process of extracting herself from Ange’s plans. “I don’t know.” It was the simplest lie she could come up with. “But I’ll find out. Right now, Scarlet is running out of time.”

“Just promise me one thing: when you find the artifact, swear to me that I can trust you with it.”

Kiera forced a lump down her throat. The last artifact Death entrusted her with—well, it was gone.

“Kiera?”

“You can trust me.”

Death stood and stepped off the dais. She leaned down and placed a hand on Scarlet’s pale forehead. “Crossing to the Nextworld is not the worst fate.”

Kiera thought her chest would burst open with the pressure of her frustration. “She’s sixteen. It’s hardly her time to cross. You can’t tell me there’s nothing—”

“There is one thing I can do. I’m sure you’ve thought of it.”

Kiera’s heart skipped a beat. “You can’t make her an emissary.”

“That is the deal. That’s always been the deal. If I spend my precious energy, I need something back.”

“I’ll find other recruits. Please, anything else.”

“Your only task now is to find that artifact.”

Death could be ruthless, but she wasn’t heartless. Kiera had seen her kindness, long ago. Now her god was spiteful, unwavering, and carried a fairly legitimate grudge against Kiera, but she had to believe that Death had a speck of humanity left.

“I’ve given up my happiness many times over for you. My daughter’s life is all I ask in return.”

Death’s face was frozen, her expression unreadable. “I will not be able to save her without being bonded. It’s the simple truth.” She withdrew her hand from Scarlet’s forehead. “And maybe, instead of being a distraction, she can be a form of insurance. If you complete your duties, Scarlet won’t have to step into the fray.”

“I won’t force this life onto my daughter.”

“If you want her to have a life in this World and not the Next, this is it. Ultimately, she’ll have to decide for herself whether or not to take the deal. It’s the same choice you had.”

Kiera stared at the fragile girl bleeding in her arms. Her only child. Kiera had sworn to protect her. From Death, from Riordan, from the unbearable weight of duty. She’d made it an oathbond, a magically-infused intention that fed her magical power as long as she held true to her promise. If she broke it, she would not only fail her daughter, she would also impair her magic abilities. The life she’d given Scarlet wasn’t a normal one, but at least she had kept her safe. Until now.

And so, it had come to this: Kiera could protect her daughter from death—the crossing of souls—or Death, the god who had grown so bitter. But no longer could she save Scarlet from both.

Kiera’s heart ripped with the impossibility of the decision. The inevitability of it. Deep down, she’d known this day would come.

She looked up at her god, life and death incarnate, and took a final breath before speaking the words that would seal her daughter’s fate. The words that would break her and every promise she’d ever made herself.

“Prepare the ritual.”