Death is My Frenemy Rewritten (Book 3 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 30: Reunited in the Dark (BIG ANNOUNCEMENT!)

"You want to astral project again," Ace anticipated.

"These cuffs on my wrists stop any outward power from our hands," I said in a whisper. "But what about inside? Like my ability to connect to Death's corpse?"

"I'm not sure," Ace admitted. "All I know is if you're going to be unconscious here, then I need to vouch for you. And if you get stuck, if something happens to you­­, I won't be able to––"

"CANDLES OUT!" roared a guard. "EVERYONE KNOCK OUT AND GO TO SLEEP, OR I'LL KNOCK YOU OUT FOR YOU!"

Ace and I walked to the corner of our adjoined cells and blew out each other's candles in unison. "If something happens, I may not be able to pull you back," Ace said.

"I know the risks. I need to do this."

We couldn't reach through the bars due to the magic webbing out between our cells, but he reached his hand out, hiding his palm against the divide between us.

"Be careful, Faith," Ace said. "I'll cover for you as long as I can."

"I'll be right back," I said, but the anxiety in my chest told me that was a never a certainty in this realm.

I lay down on my cot, trying not to think about its moldy, musty odor, or how achy my body was from constant stress, or the fact that something was dripping from the ceiling on the one side of it, as a thick droplet landed on my arm. Shifted to the edge of the cot in disgust and stared up at the ceiling for dark ceiling.

I lay my hands in a resting position on my chest, trying to take slow breaths, just like Death had taught me for meditations. It was frustratingly difficult to calm my mind, so I imagined Death was meditating with me. Panic prickled my chest as I realized the once vivid image of my Death in my mind had faded to where it was hard to picture anything else by his past selves. The pain Victoria Death had caused me and the fear he'd instilled into me seemed to tarnish what I imagined. In the spiraling of my thoughts, I thought of those gems in Victorian Death's bedroom, and the look in his catlike eyes as he watched me unravel his mad plan.

But this wasn't about him. This was about Death. My Death. I needed to focus, I needed to remember him, but suddenly I could rapidly feel myself drifting away and there was no stopping where this was taking me...

My eyes opened to a new place with the uncertainty of a dream. The Golden Library. The lively version of Victorian Death's hallow dark space in his castle. I was here again.

I froze. Alexandru was ahead of me. He was leaning a shoulder against an endlessly tall, golden bookshelf, his one leg casually crossed over his other at the shins. He wore white harem-like pants that sat low on his hips and a draping white shirt that hung like a robe in the back. The top two notches along his chest were undone, showing a glimpse of smooth, tanned skin underneath, and the faded markings of tattoos that almost seemed partially dulled to a faded grey by some sort of layer of magical foundation. In his hands, he held a book, although I could tell his attention was elsewhere. Directly on me.

My breath lodged in my chest. Had I shifted into another memory?

I heard a rustle behind me, and I startled. The old woman with the jewels around her neck. The gems that Victorian Death had shown me in his bedroom. I stepped away from her, moving to the opposite side of the book aisle, and Alexandru's gaze did not waver from her. Like an indoor cat locked in on a critter through a window. He could not see me. I was invisible. That much was apparent now, especially as I looked down at myself and noticed the light glow to my silhouette.