Chapter 3

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Carter hated just standing here. Oldos had left him basically unattended because he couldn't leave. There was no way Carter could escape, so there was no point in watching him. He'd been left standing in the throne room, forced to just wait here while ghosts and reapers walked in and out of the room. None of them looked at him. They probably thought he was just another ghost.

Maybe he was, now. In a way.

Taking in a slow, shaking breath, Carter turned to look around him. The throne room was big and hollow. An empty throne sat perched on a raised dais, a short set of marble stairs leading down to the floor. The throne was surrounded by tall columns that were carved with images. He had to get closer to see what they were.

The carvings depicted deaths. Many of them. But they weren't unsettling. It was like watching history.

There was one of a girl standing in front of three giants surrounded by the elements. Her hand was raised, magic drifting from her fist. Carter blinked when he realized the images were moving. He looked a little closer, almost able to make out the faces of one of the giants. It almost looked like Nari. And if this one was Nari, then the other three must be the rest of the Arcane Order. The image changed a moment later, to an image of that same girl dead amongst ruins.

He pursed his lips, moving on to the next depiction. This one was much more familiar. He'd gotten to it right as it changed, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

It was his death. The one from 1943. He was watching his own death. The images were moving, and he could see Douxie running across the field of fire and mangled corpses to get to him. He held his breath as the tiny carved image of his fiancé knelt next to his dead body. There was no sound to it, but he could practically hear Douxie crying for him to come back.

There was a flash of red light that was brighter than Carter would have expected for it to be. When he'd blinked the white spots out of his eyes, he was looking at a fading image. The one where Douxie was hugging him because he was alive again. It faded away, and wasn't replaced by a new carving. This part of the column was blank now.

"Father hates that," a voice said from behind him.

Carter jumped, drawing his sword. He spun around, finding his blade pointed at the throat of a boy. He was young, no older than Sarah was now. He had wavy black hair, pale skin, and eyes that perfectly matched that of the god who was keeping him here.

Carter narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

The boy smiled, sticking his hand out. "I'm Harley."

Carter frowned, not taking his offered hand. But he lowered his sword. "What are you doing down here?"

Harley seemed confused by the question. "I live here."

Carter stared at him. "You live in the Underworld?"

"Yes."

"Um..." he folded his arms across his chest, looking at the kid with creased brows. "So, does that mean you're dead, or what?"

Harley laughed, like he thought Carter was telling a joke. "No, I'm not dead. I just live here. My father thought it was safer for me."

It clicked. "Oh, you're Oldos' son, aren't you?"

Harley nodded, still smiling widely. It creeped Carter out. "Yep!" He squinted at Carter, his smiling dipping. "You're not dead either."

Carter huffed a laugh. "No, I'm not. I'm only here because Drunnec brought me here."

"Oh," Harley puffed out his cheeks. "Well... if it's a mistake, I'm sure Father would be more than happy to send you back."

Carter shook his head. "He won't. He already knows I'm not supposed to be here, but he won't let me go because he needs to maintain balance or some bullshit like that."

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