Prologue
1994, Paris
I was tired. It had been a long day, and I wanted to go home for a good cup of coffee.
I sighed.
There were only three more souls I had to collect that night.
Two of them lay side by side, hands entwined, as if nothing could separate them.
The first was a young man, of no more than 20 years.
He had clung to life for as long as possible, but then it became too much.
I grasped his hand and pulled him out of his body.
He hesitated for a moment, looking down at the other souls I had to collect.
“Go,” I said.
He went.
I stood for a moment, looking down on the remaining two souls.
Both of their mortal bodies were still alive.
A woman, younger than the man, lay on her back next to the murky waters of the Seinn.
Her eyes opened, and she looked straight at me.
Her voice was barely there, a whisper in the wind, gone as soon as it had come.
But I heard it.
I hear everything.
“I know you’re there,” she said.
I said nothing.
It’s easier that way.
“Please.”
A word so often used but never understood.
Yet I understood.
And I couldn’t.
Her frail arms clutched at the bundle on her chest.
“Please.”
I tried not to look into her eyes.
I couldn’t help it.
They were like eyes I had never seen before, and I have seen countless hundreds, thousands, millions – billions of eyes, but never had I seen ones like hers.
One was blue, like the sky on a cloudless summer day.
The other was green, like the leaves of an evergreen forest.
They burned me, scarred me, and tore me to pieces.
The word went unspoken now.
She no longer needed to say it.
But still, the words fell from her dry, broken lips, stumbling onto the ground and clawing their way up my robes.
“Save her.”
Where had my words gone? Perhaps she had stolen them, snatched them from my lips.
Whatever she had done, the words weren’t there.
Not for me, anyway.
“She doesn’t deserve to die. She’s lived so little, seen so little, known so little.”
The words were inside my robes now, forcing their way down my throat, tugging on my heartstrings.
I was frozen, held in place by her accusing, desperate eyes.
Such beautiful eyes.
“Save her. Save my daughter. She deserves a chance. Give to her what I cannot.”
Each word was like a knife, thrust deep into my chest, buried to their gem-studded hilts.
Something inside me broke, shattering into a million tiny fragments.
She sighed, and closed her eyes.
Her arms fell from the bundle.
There was no need for me to help her soul step out of her mortal body.
She was the most graceful of all the souls I had ever collected.
I could only imagine what she had been like while still alive.
Her small hand touched mine, only for a moment, but it was enough.
Thank you.
The words slipped their way into my chest, healing all my wounds.
They nestled at the bottom of my heart, accompanied by a warmth I’d never felt before.
She looked down upon the bodies briefly, before turning her gaze to the bundle that rested on her mortal chest.
It wriggled.
The sound of her laughter hung around me like a shroud long after she had gone.
Still, I stood and stared at the bundle of cloth.
I was at a loss for what to do.
Eventually I stooped down and lifted the bundle into my arms.
A face peered out at me.
The first thing I noticed was her eyes.
Suddenly, a man stumbled around the corner.
A bottle was clutched in his hand.
His glazed over eyes fell upon the bodies, before sharpening.
Dropping the bottle, he rushed over, still slightly unsteady.
Desperate, he shook the woman’s shoulder first, then the man’s.
“Au secours, quelqu’un aidez-moi!” he cried.
I could hear footsteps, approaching fast.
Time for me to leave, I thought.
I took a step backwards.
The man’s head snapped up.
His eyes were the same as the woman’s.
“Qui est la?”
No one.
The whisper made its way through the air, and by the time it made it to his ears, I was gone.
I left that night having collected three souls.
Only two had gone on.
The third I carried in my arms.
She was sleeping, her small chest rising and falling with every breath.
Her eyes were the only sign of the trouble to come.
One was blue, the colour of the sky on a cloudless summer day.
The other was green, like the leaves of an evergreen forest.
I should’ve known what would happen.
After all, even Death has rules to follow.
I think, deep down, I did know.
Yet I chose to ignore it.
I don’t regret it.
