The Sword and the Scythe

Chapter 29: Dying Day

They threw Leroy, Charlotte, and Philip in a small, windowless room in the center of one of the compound's buildings. Philip sat in one of the chairs, defeat written all over his face. Charlotte leaned up against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Leroy paced back and forth.

"We've got to figure out some way out of this," Charlotte said.

"And how do you propose we do that? We already blew our one chance to escape, now that they know what Philip can do. I've got nothing," Leroy said, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm pleased to hear that you've given up," Anne Boleyn said as she opened the door and strode right in. "It might make you more agreeable than the last time we welcomed you here."

"You and I have very different definitions of the word 'welcome.'"

She glared rather pointedly at him. "If you want this girl to get out of here alive, I'm going to need you to cooperate."

"I don't know what it is you want me to do."

"Think you idiot. You are linked to that sword for some reason—so find it. When you have an answer, then we can talk about letting your friend go." She slammed the door behind her as she turned to leave.

"What was that about?" He scoffed, "How am I supposed to find the stupid thing? They've been looking for thousands of years and couldn't do it."

Charlotte bit her lip, trying not to make eye contact with him.

"What's with the look? Do you know how I can find it?"

She tilted her head to the side and crossed her arms over her chest. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Why not? It's our only way of getting you out of this alive."

"You've seemed to have a death wish ever since you showed up here—it's like you have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. You're making it too easy for them to kill you."

"I came here with the intention of getting you out safely. If that means I make a deal with them...so be it."

"I'm not letting you give up. We'll figure a way out of this—for all of us." She grabbed onto his arms and squeezed a little, hoping to imbue him with a little confidence.

"What do you want from me, Char? You want me to live through this just because you ask? What am I supposed to do after that? I'll still have to watch you die." He took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even fifty years from now. But it'll happen someday because you're human and I'm a Grim and I can't do anything about it. I don't want to watch you die. I've lost too many people in my life. I'd rather die now than have to watch helplessly while another loved one gets ripped away from me."

Charlotte tried to ignore the way her stomach flipped when he'd said loved one, reminding herself that he might not mean it the way she hoped.

"Please, Leroy, I don't want to spend the rest of my life thinking I could have prevented this—"

"Good, then you know exactly how I feel." He squeezed her hands tighter, "Please, just tell me what you know about finding the sword."

Just then the door burst open again and Anne Boleyn kept a tight grip on her smart phone. "Now then, Charlotte. I'm getting verytired of you. You know more than you're letting on and it's time you shared with the rest of us. I'll give you two options. First: you will tell him how to find the sword, and I will let you go in peace once the ritual is over and Leroy Whitten is dead."