Page 180 of Fallen Nocturne

The voice comes from beside me. I spin to find him walking alongside me.

One of the Un. Death.

He must have been there for a while, walking in step with me and watching my futile search.

Death takes a young form this time. His hair is dark, falling in careless waves around his face. He wears a simple black cloak.

“You’re wasting your time, Rhianelle.”

“He has to be here,” I say and I don’t stop walking. “You took him. I saw you take him. He’s here somewhere.”

I remember it. The moment Svenn’s eyes went empty and Death claimed him.

“The realm of the dead is infinite,” Death says, keeping pace with me effortlessly. “Endless. Countless souls arrive every second from every world, every realm. What makes you think you’ll find one specific soul in all of this?”

“Because I have to,” I say simply.

Death laughs. It’s not cruel. He has seen this determination before and knows exactly how it ends.

“They all say that,” he says, gesturing at the wandering dead around us. “The ones who come here looking for lost loves. They all think their love is special, strong and powerful enough. That one has been looking for her husband for three hundred years.”

I look where he points and see her. The lady is desperate and eternally hopeful.

“Jameson,” she rasps over and over. Her voice is hoarse from centuries of calling.

“She’s been walking for three hundred years?” I whisper. The horror of it settles in my chest.

“Time is different here,” Death says, looking at me with his pale blue eyes. “It could be three hundred years or it could be three seconds. But yes, she walks and she searches. She never finds. Just like you won’t find your vampire.”

“His name is Svenn,” I say fiercely. “Arescaine Darian Andras of Morsvyenn. I will find him.”

I have to believe that. If I don’t believe it, there’s nothing left.

Death stops walking. He turns to face me fully and something in his expression softens. “Rhianelle, I let you into my realm to show you the impossibility of your request. You can’t bring him back. You might end up getting lost here.”

His eyes are genuinely concerned now.

“I don’t care,” I say.

He steps closer. “You should return home.”

I notice for the first time that Death casts no shadow.

“This is the realm of the dead,” he says. “It’s my domain and the rules are simple. If you find him, then you can take him back. But if you fail...”

If I fail, I stay here forever.

I will become one of those empty-eyed souls who wander for centuries and never find what they’re looking for. I’ll become her. The woman calling for her husband. Forever searching. Forever lost.

“I won’t fail,” I say.

Death studies me for a long moment. Then he smiles.

“We’ll see,” he says, before vanishing.

I’m alone again. Alone with the endless gray desert, the wandering dead, and the impossible task before me.

The silence rushes back in. I take a breath, and I start walking again.