Now that Scarlet wasn’t making an attempt to avoid Dante, she usually met him in the hall to head to training together. This morning, she was surprised to find that Dante wasn’t waiting when she came out of her room. He was usually awake before she was.

When he didn’t emerge after a few minutes, Scarlet knocked on his door. Dante, bleary eyed, opened it. They both stared at each other for a moment, perplexed.

“Didn’t Death tell you?” Dante asked. “There’s no training today.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Bronwen told me. He’s leaving tomorrow. Death wanted the day off, I guess.”

Leaving. The Crossworld mission. The one she had overheard Death and Bronwen speaking of—including the fact that she wasn’t allowed to go on it. It was happening.

She hadn’t seen Bronwen since their argument two weeks ago, due to her purposeful avoidance of him. She was angry with him. She was worried for him. Her feelings mashed together into a deeply uncomfortable mix that left her paralyzed.

“Hey,” Dante said. Her gaze snapped onto his green eyes, bringing her back into focus. “I know he’d like to see you, before he goes—”

“I can’t.” Scarlet’s voice was wound tight in her throat.

She thought Dante would argue with her, but he didn’t. “It feels weird not to do anything,” he said instead. “Do you want to go out and practice anyway?”

Does he really want to train, or is he just trying to distract me?

“Please,” he added. “My spot-shields are sloppy.”

Scarlet decided it didn’t matter what his motivations were. She’d rather do something other than mope. “Okay,” she said. “Outside?”

Out at their training spot, Scarlet stood across from Dante and summoned a handful of energy darts, which she let gently float around her. It kept Dante guessing at which would fly at him next, and allowed her to practice splitting her concentration at the same time.

Dante did a decent job at blocking the bolts of magic, when she wasn’t blasting them at him at full power. There were still a few that he wasn’t fast enough to shield, but Scarlet did her best to aim them so that they would zip past him. The ones that looked like they would hit, she quickly dispelled so that he would only get a zap of energy, at worst.

There were a few more zaps today than usual. Maybe she wasn’t aiming quite right. She had to stop thinking about Death and Bronwen and her mother and Riordan and—

Dante ducked under a bolt heading right for his face. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“I—I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Dante, but he was shaking his head. He closed the distance between them. “What’s going on?”

“The whole thing, with Bronwen leaving—”

“I know. But Bronwen knows what he’s doing. And it doesn’t sound like he’s going alone. He’ll be okay.”

“You were there,” Scarlet said. “When Calder came. You can’t possibly know that he’ll be alright.”

“They have a plan. Death wouldn’t send them otherwise.”

“Why not tell us what the plan is, then? Even if we can’t go with them, don’t we deserve to know something?

“There’s a lot Death doesn’t tell us. But—”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Scarlet snapped. “I hate this. Death tells me I’m talented, but I still can’t go with them. Why won’t she let me do anything?”

Scarlet didn’t realize how much she was losing it until she saw that Dante’s face had gone white. Her fists were engulfed in flames that she had unintentionally summoned. Her emotions and her magic had entwined into a fiery outburst. She shook her hands, dispelling the fire. Dante was always nervous around her flames, though he stood his ground this time, he looked like he wanted to back away.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why you put up with me. I mean. You’re kind of stuck with me, I guess.”

Dante stared at her. She couldn’t read the look on his face. “I’d like to think that we would have been friends anyway. If we’d met somewhere else.”

That caught Scarlet off-guard. She hadn’t exactly been the kindest to him. “You do?”

“Yeah. Things haven’t always been smooth with us but even when you’re being… prickly… I don’t feel like you mean it. If that makes sense.”

Like she didn’t know how to be anything other than defensive. Her whole life had been secrets and running away. There was always something she had to hold back. Right now, it was her tears. “I don’t want to be like this.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I know you’re trying.”

“Trying isn’t enough.”

Dante’s eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, she felt like she was falling.

“It’s enough for me,” he said.

#

Early the next morning, Scarlet and Dante stood out in the swamp, waiting for Death. Death hadn’t told them if there would be training today, but they’d decided it was better to show up rather than not. Scarlet shivered as rain began to dribble from the sky. It was early, and the sky was clouded over, leaving them nearly in darkness.

“I don’t think she’s coming,” Dante said.

“Me neither,” Scarlet said. “Let’s go back.”

The rain picked up. Scarlet was soaked and miserable by the time they got inside the castle.

Scarlet twisted a handful of her hair to wring some water out. “Should we see what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Dante said. “I think Death would prefer we didn’t.”

Probably true, though it didn’t lessen her gnawing curiosity. Yesterday, Scarlet had caught a glimpse of another emissary in the halls, although they’d disappeared around a corner and into the maze of Deianira before she could catch up. The pantry was much fuller than usual, so she theorized that there were more emissaries here, gathering together for the mission. She’d spent the rest of the evening relentlessly trying to search them out, or trying to catch someone coming to the kitchen for food, to no avail. Perhaps Death had ordered them all to avoid her.

“Let’s just go past the throne room,” she suggested.

Dante shrugged, hesitant, but followed her. When they reached the throne room, the obsidian door was closed. Scarlet put a palm to the stone, but it didn’t respond to her touch and open like it usually did. Several voices echoed from the other side, but not clearly enough to make out. Scarlet gave the door a kick, though she was sure it hurt her toe more than the stone.

Dante bit his lip. “We have a full day off, and we already did some optional training yesterday. We should relax while we can.”

Scarlet tensed at his attempt to redirect her. She nearly snapped at him, but instead she closed her eyes for a moment and let her frustration fade. He didn’t deserve her wrath.

“Okay,” she said. Dante raised his eyebrows, seeming surprised at her level-headed response. “What do you want to do?”

“Mm. On my days off back home, I liked to have picnics. I mean, it’s not really nice out right now, but still—there’s a lot of good food in the storeroom, and maybe we could find somewhere different to eat in the castle.”

“A picnic.” Scarlet thought for a moment. “Okay. I know a place. I’ll get it set up, if you do the food.”

Dante’s eyes lit up. Scarlet told him she’d fetch him once she’d set the room up, and then he scurried off to the pantry. Seeing him so pleased warmed something inside her, a little. Anyway, it would be nice to have a distraction. There was nothing she could do about Death locking her out.

Scarlet made her way to the tailoring room and found a bright, colorful bolt of fabric. She cut a large sheet of it, big enough to be a picnic blanket for the two of them. She folded it, put it under her arm, and then made her way to a room on the top level of Deianira. It was an empty room, but it had a window, wide and reaching from floor to ceiling, that overlooked the lands below. It faced east—or at least, whatever direction the sun rose in the Crossworld. The clouds had cleared a little, and the sun peaked out as it made its ascent.

Scarlet had scrubbed the dust and grime from this room, and occasionally used it to practice meditating, or to gaze out at the strange stars above. Today, it’d be their picnic room. She laid out her makeshift blanket and summoned a handful of light motes to gently float around the room. She carefully calibrated their colors as she made them, creating a rainbow of lights.

She went back down to the kitchen to fetch Dante. She found herself rushing into the pantry, then stopped short when she caught sight of Dante. He was sitting on the floor, eyes distant and red. He sniffled a little and got up when she came in.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s all ready. I even found a basket.”

There was indeed a wicker basket on the counter, but Scarlet wasn’t concerned about their picnic. “What’s wrong?”

“The vision I had—” Dante shook his head. “Forget it. Let’s just enjoy today.”

Scarlet nodded, unsure of what to say. Dante grabbed the basket and Scarlet led him to the top of Deianira. Their walk was awkward and in silence, but once he stepped into the room she’d set up, his smile returned. Together, they took a seat on the picnic blanket. Dante produced a variety of fresh pastries, sandwiches, and even a canister containing some sort of sparkling drink that they split into tall, fancy cups that he had dug out.

They ate and stared out over the landscape, the swamp stretching out to the river of souls and beyond.

“Do you know what else is out here, in the Crossworld?” Dante asked. “You told me that it mirrors the World, didn’t you? So it can’t all be a swamp.”

“It’s not. Death’s realm is a swamp, but across the river are the other gods’ realms. Each god’s realm is different, once you get properly into them. Not that I’ve been, but that’s what Bronwen told me. And what I’ve read.”

“Right. I remember seeing mountains and stuff on that map you drew.”

Scarlet’s cheeks flushed. Remembering that he had the map made her self-conscious. She hadn’t shown her drawings to anyone but her mother before.

“I feel like you know so much,” Dante continued. “I don’t know anything about… well, anything, except for healing. And a bit of farming, I guess. I tried to read some of those books but they're just beyond what I can even understand. I don’t know where to start.”

“There are some accounts of the Magus War that are pretty interesting. I’m sure you could get into those. You know, before and during the war, people used to actually live in the Crossworld. Like, a lot of people. Whole communities. But if the territory a god controls in the World changes, the layout of the Crossworld shifts, so it got kind of chaotic. That’s part of the reason the war started in the first place. The gods wanted more power here in the divine realm. Anyway. The Magus treaty that ended the wars banned mortals from living in the Crossworld. Oh, we’re okay though, because Death isn’t a part of the treaty.” Scarlet, suddenly a thousand times more self-conscious than she was a moment ago, nibbled on a sweet roll that had sliced almonds on top. “Sorry. I’m talking too much.”

Dante laughed. “Don’t worry. I like when you talk.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Scarlet said. “Your turn.”

Dante told her about his apprenticeship with Ferrick, the healer from his village. The long hours, his parents’ disapproval, Ferrick’s generosity in taking him on without a fee. Something in his face was strained as he spoke.

“So you really like healing?” Scarlet asked. “And… plants?”

“I mean, yeah. I like feeling like I’m helping people. Making myself useful. It’s interesting how something as simple as a plant can help cure someone. But magic, what Bronwen is teaching me…” Dante seemed to grasp for words. “It’s amazing. It’s still so strange though, to be using magic. I was taught my whole life that it was wrong. It’s different for you though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Magic is freedom. It’s a part of me. I feel more like myself, now that I’m learning how to use it. My mother is a mage, but she refused to teach me.”

“You sound a lot like—” Dante cut himself off. “Like someone else I know.”

“Like who?”

“Like my sister.”

This was the first time Dante had mentioned a sibling. “She’s back in Saridian?”

“Yes. She isn’t safe there. I asked Bronwen, if she could maybe come here, too. But he said Death wouldn’t allow it.”

Scarlet brought her voice down to nearly a whisper. “She wouldn’t be safe here either.” She hadn’t told him about her stay in the dungeon, but he’d seen Death injure her on his first day in the Crossworld. Plus, they weren’t exactly safe from Riordan—or at least, Calder. Dante knew that as well as she did.

“Either way, it might be too late. I think something happened to her. But we’re here, and you can’t look for your mother, and I can’t go see if Jayden is okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

#

Death stood them up for training the next two days, as well. Without Death, Bronwen, or any sort of schedule, the castle felt abandoned. Scarlet brought Dante to the library, and picked out a couple of her favorite books for him. When they eventually got bored of sitting around, they did their own training again. Scarlet coached Dante as he tried to improve the accuracy of his energy darts.

As Scarlet began to prepare for bed on the fourth day without training, she felt a tug on her emissary bond. She knocked on Dante’s door.

“I think Death is summoning us,” she told him when he answered.

Together, they went to the throne room. This time, the door was responsive to Scarlet’s touch, lighting up its intricate patterns and swinging open.

Scarlet sensed a particularly cold aura emanating from Death. It sent a chill down her spine. She and Dante had exchanged concerned glances as they approached the dais.

Death paced in front of the throne, fiddling with her hair. Her eyes were wild. Scarlet spent at least a full minute waiting for her to speak, shifting from foot to foot and her heart-rate increasing with each passing moment.

Finally, Death broke the silence. She didn’t look at them or stop pacing as she spoke. “As you know, I sent some emissaries on an important mission. Nearly all of my remaining emissaries went. It was a strike on Riordan’s base within the Crossworld. We needed to keep his attention diverted to give the Ravens some more time to get their plan together in the World.” She stopped and took a seat at her throne. Her face slumped into a hand. All of her nervous energy seemed to have drained into exhaustion. “But, it went badly.”

Scarlet’s throat was tight.

Dante asked, “How badly?”

“I felt emissary connections snap—souls flow, cross into the Nextworld… a lot of them. Many. Most.”

Scarlet’s blood ran cold. “Bronwen?”

“He’s still here. Him, and a couple others. For now, at least.”

“Can they be saved?” Dante asked.

“I did not want to involve you two,” Death said. “But now, there’s no choice. I have little power left to bind new emissaries with, if I can even find decent candidates. I need… I need you to go find Bronwen and the rest who still live. They’re injured and will need help returning to safety. ”

Scarlet felt her voice shake. “You’re letting us go help them?”

“It is the only option. I cannot leave this realm.” Death’s voice wavered. It was strange to see her vulnerable. “Riordan uses his own powers to imprison me here. I can’t go.”

Scarlet took a breath and did her best to exhale any sympathy for Death. Showing weakness wasn’t going to make Scarlet forget the cruelty and pain the god put her through.

The circumstances weren’t ideal, but Scarlet finally had the chance to take action. Her fingertips tingled, the flames within her ready to spring forth. She was ready for this. “Just tell us where to go.”