Chapter 136 - Rideshare

Hilda never found Morrigan particularly intimidating, even knowing what she was. The white skin and glowing red eyes felt more like quirks than threats, and in every other way, Morrigan was just a normal teenage girl. It was easy to forget she was a reaper.

This girl, on the other hand, had something unnerving about her very presence. Her red eyes didn’t just glow—they burned, casting eerie reflections beneath the shadow of her hood as her scarred lips curled into an ominous smile.

Then there were her hands—bare. Ungloved.

That one small detail split the two girls apart like night and day. Morrigan wore gloves because she cared. Because she knew what her touch could do, and treated her power like a loaded gun.

This girl didn’t care if it went off.

But Hilda recognized her from Morrigan’s description. The scars around her lips said everything.

“So I’ve heard of you. Alice, isn’t it?”

“Hm. So Morrigan’s been chatting about me with her witch friends. I suppose that’s not all too surprising. But my business with Morrigan is done, for now. You, however—I’d like you to come with me.”

Arrietta stepped between them, raising her staff. “Sorry, but whatever you’re planning, I won’t allow it. I’ll ask again—leave my grandfather’s shop.”

“Don’t threaten me, witch. I’m not some rookie reaper you can push around—and I’ve dealt with plenty of witches in my time.”

“Well, lucky for me, your hands are tied when it comes to harming mortals who aren’t on your list.”

Alice chuckled. “If you truly believe that, why so quick to defend your friend? Still—know this. My hands are not nearly as tied as you assume. Making an enemy of me wouldn’t be wise.”

Arrietta narrowed her eyes. “And my grandfather? What do you want with him?”

“I’m a reaper. Fill in the blanks.”

Arrietta’s grip tightened, knuckles whitening around her staff—but Hilda stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“Arrietta, it’s fine. I can handle myself.” She turned to Alice, meeting her gaze. “So I’m not on your list, and you’re not here for my life. Then what do you want?”

“Just a simple chat. I’m investigating something, and I believe you can help.” Alice’s expression shifted as she addressed Arrietta. “As for the old wizard—deliver a message. Tell him the longer he waits, the worse he’s making things for himself. He can’t hide forever.”

“You—” Arrietta stepped forward, her voice shaking. “You’re lying! Why would my grandfather be marked for death? He’s perfectly healthy!”

“Yes, well… magic can do much to preserve a mortal’s physical life. But be that as it may, everyone has their time—and the great Wizard Atomyst’s time was up long ago.” Her head tilted, that eerie smile never fading. “Relay my message. Let him know he’s on a new reaper’s list—and this one won’t be happy if she must continue to hunt him. I’d collect his soul now, but I imagine he’s already gone. That doesn’t mean I couldn’t find him if I tried… Voidlings are quite hard to hide from. But, I have other business here today.”

“I don’t believe you,” Arrietta said through gritted teeth. Her grip tightened on her staff, the gem at its top beginning to glow.

Alice’s lips curled. “I wouldn’t advise attacking me. I’d consider it interference in official reaper business and do what I must to eliminate the threat.” She raised her hand, fingers spread in a calm, open gesture. Most witches had at least surface-level knowledge of reapers and their deadly touch. “There’s not much light in here, witch. I could have my hand around your throat before you even blink.”

Arrietta returned the smile, and the gem atop her staff burned brighter, flooding the shop with brilliant light and casting away every shadow.

Alice didn’t flinch. She tilted her head, her smile perking wider, something like intrigue coming into her eyes.

“Arrietta, don’t,” Hilda said firmly, placing a steady hand on the shaft of the staff and pushing it down. “I’ve heard about her. Morrigan’s run into her before. I don’t think she’s playing around. She’d probably love an excuse to attack.”

“Oh, sounds like I left quite the impression on the rookie.” Alice smirked. “She’s not wrong, of course.” Then she turned, almost lazily. “Come, Hilda. We’ll take your car—I don’t enjoy being kept waiting.”

Without another word, she walked off.

Arrietta’s staff dimmed, falling slack in her grasp. Her voice was quieter now. “She’s lying, right? About Grandfather? She has to be.”

“I don’t know,” Hilda replied. “I mean… Atomyst isn’t that old…” She hesitated. “Look, I think I should go for now. I don’t know what she’s capable of.”

“Are you crazy? Who knows what she might try to do to you.”

“Hey, I mean, if she wants my life that badly, I don’t think there’s much I could do to stop her either way. Reapers are on a whole different level—it’s not something we can fight.”

“It could be, if she’s acting outside her orders. What kind of reaper introduces themselves, anyway? I’ve never heard of that. All we knew of reapers before you met Morrigan were stories and legends. No real sightings. Definitely no conversations or polite requests of witches.”

Hilda shrugged. “Apparently, witches sided with reapers against demons ten thousand years ago. Death hinted that those old legends might actually be true.”

“Even if that is so, reapers have kept their distance from us for thousands of years.”

“Well, things might be different now that we actually know one. It’s—it’s not exactly blowing the lid off some grand mystery anymore. If I hadn’t known Morrigan and Death already, maybe Alice would’ve handled this whole thing differently. Maybe she’d use perception-blocking while trying to get whatever it is she wanted from me.”

“That… does make sense. Just… please be careful, Hilda.”

“Don’t worry. I will. I’ll be back to tell you all about whatever this is as soon as I can. In the meantime, try to find out if there’s any truth to what she said about the old man.”

Arrietta nodded, clearly unsettled. Still, she tipped her hat in agreement.

Hilda stepped outside and found the reaper leaning against her Jeep, that same smug grin curling beneath the edge of her hood.

“So,” Alice said, “you came out willingly after all.”

“Sure. I don’t think I have anything to fear from you—right? Besides, I’m pretty sure Death would have a few things to say if you harmed me.”

Alice shrugged. “Just a lecture. He’s no longer my master anyway. I don’t answer to him.” She nodded toward the Jeep. “Now hurry up and get in.”

“But I have no idea where we’re going.”

“I’ll direct you,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Now get in.”

Hilda sighed and shrugged like it was no big deal. “Whatever. Just quit being so pushy.” She circled around to the driver’s side and slid in. She glanced over at Alice, who sat in the passenger seat, arms folded, eyes locked forward, unreadable.

“Don’t forget to buckle up,” Hilda said with a smile.

Alice shot her a sidelong glare. “I’m not particularly concerned about a traffic accident.”

“Well, I’m concerned about a cop pulling us over. I already have too many points on my license. So buckle up, or we’re not going anywhere.”

Alice turned to glare at her more steadily, then slowly reached over her shoulder and pulled the seatbelt down with a begrudging click.

“Back out and head that way,” she said, pointing away from town.

“So bossy. Any hints as to what this is about? Surprise party, maybe?”

Alice said nothing for a long moment, staring forward in silence. Hilda began to think she wasn’t going to answer at all.

“We would be contacting your mother,” Alice said at last, “if she were still alive. But since she’s not, you’re our next best option.”

Hilda tensed at the mention of her mother but masked it with another easy smile.

“Don’t suppose we could just ring her up in the afterlife? Can we?”

Hilda could only wish that were possible. She’d love a chance to catch up with her mom, if even only for a few minutes.

“Afraid not. Doing so would require disturbing the separation of the planes.”

“Mmm. How interesting. Couldn’t a voidling do it, though?”

“Technically, yes. But voidlings are not allowed access to Heaven. They’d be destroyed on sight.”

“Oh? By angels guarding the gates or something?”

Alice’s glare deepened. “I wouldn’t know. But I assume something like that.”

They drove in silence for a while, until Hilda reached forward and flicked on the radio. A burst of heavy metal roared through the speakers, making Alice jolt upright, her expression twisted in mild horror.

“What’s the matter? Even reapers like music, don’t they?” Hilda called over the noise.

“Music, yes. Not whatever this is.” Alice reached over and turned the volume down with a look of absolute offense.

“Whoa there—party foul! Never touch a lady’s dial without asking!”

“Are you intentionally trying to irritate me, witch?” Alice asked, her voice flat.

“Maybe a little bit,” Hilda said, flashing her teeth. “After all, you gave my friend a hard time a while back.”

“Just a rookie reaper with no idea what she’s doing.” Alice paused, then let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll give you a hint. This may not be particularly about her, but about what you did to her that caught our attention.”

“How... so?” Hilda asked, her tone suddenly more guarded.

“I’ll let my mistress explain once we arrive. Turn there.”

Hilda made the turn, thoughts racing. This had to be about the changeling. She knew her mother had studied them once, maybe too deeply. Hilda had always suspected that research led to an unfortunate accident—the one that ended with her father being consumed by a changeling.

“Wait, back up a second. Mistress?” Hilda asked suddenly, catching the word.

“I’ll just advise you to drop your attitude and show proper respect. She has no patience for humor or games,” Alice warned coolly.

“Wow, you almost sound worried about me.”

“I am,” Alice said, without hesitation.

“Wait, what?” Hilda muttered, blinking as she glanced over. Alice held the very definition of a poker face. “Worried about me? You being serious?”

“I’m not sure yet what the future holds for you,” Alice said, her tone unusually calm. “But I have reason to believe I’ll need you—alive. My mistress doesn’t care. To her, you’ll just be another mortal. Or an arrogant witch who needs to be put in her place. So don’t test your luck.”

Hilda returned her focus to the road. They were deep in the mountains now, far from the last sign of civilization. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was driving straight toward her own death.

Whatever was waiting at the end of this impromptu road trip, Hilda didn’t imagine it involved a friendly cup of tea.

Suddenly, she slammed on the brakes—hard.

The Jeep skidded to a halt, stopping dead in the middle of the winding road.

“What are you doing?” Alice hissed.

“Alright, I’m done with this ominous bullshit,” Hilda snapped. “Who exactly is this mistress of yours, and what does she want from me?”

“Drive, witch,” Alice said flatly.

“No way. What—gonna scare me with your evil death touch again? You just said you need me alive. That means you’re not killing me. Not yet, anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not for me to explain who or what she is. You’ll find out soon enough. Now drive.”

“Why should I?”

“Because if I don’t bring you, someone else will. And you’ll regret not taking the easy way.”

Hilda stared at her. The reaper’s face remained unflinching, but the red glow in her eyes pulsed just a little brighter.

“I need some kind of assurance I’ll be coming back down this mountain,” Hilda said.

“Show respect. Do what’s asked. There’s no reason she’ll harm you. But if you keep stalling, her mood will sour. She doesn’t like waiting.”

“This is crap,” Hilda hissed through clenched teeth.

Alice shrugged. “It is what it is. I could restrain you and drive us the rest of the way myself, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“I won’t go down easily, you know,” Hilda warned with a smirk. Her sleeves were already rolled up, tattoos visible. Her mother’s staff could be summoned into her hand at a moment’s notice if needed. She didn’t know the full extent of Alice’s power, but she was confident that she’d at least be able to put up a fight if it came to that.

“Detaining you wouldn’t be entirely simple,” Alice conceded. “But in the end, I’d win. Still, I’d prefer to skip that part.” Her eyes narrowed. “You have no reason to believe me, but I actually am on your side here.”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

Alice straightened in her seat. “Drive. If we’re not moving in the next ten seconds, I’ll do what I have to.”

Hilda gritted her teeth, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. Deep down, she knew Alice was probably right—if they fought, she’d lose. Especially out here in the woods, where Alice could easily shadow step, getting away would be impossible. For now, Hilda knew she was stuck. The only option was to ride this out and see where it led.

Alice remained silent for the rest of the drive, speaking only to give the occasional direction. They pressed deeper into the woods, the road narrowing and breaking down, as though it hadn’t seen use in years.

Still they drove, mile after mile, until at last, the trees thinned just enough to reveal something in the distance.

A house—no, a mansion. Or maybe even a manor, given its size—perched high atop a mountain ridge. Hilda’s eyes followed the road as it snaked up the mountainside toward it, then dipped out of sight. Then, the view of the manor was lost behind the trees again as the road dipped and turned.

Eventually, the path began to rise, and the mansion reappeared—closer now. It loomed behind an iron gate that was overgrown with moss and vines.

Hilda slowed to a stop.

The gate was cracked open, just enough for a vehicle to pass. As she scanned its base, she noticed the ground was undisturbed—no tire marks, no signs of recent passage. Her gaze caught a spiderweb stretched between the two sides of the gate, with a fat spider crouched at its center, surrounded by grey-white bundles of prey.

“Go ahead. Pull in,” Alice said.

Hilda hesitated, then eased her foot onto the accelerator, slowly nudging the Jeep through the gap and eliminating the spider web. The spider would probably survive, maybe find a new temporary home in the grill of her jeep, but would have to start over with building a web and awaiting its next meal.

Inside the manor grounds, the driveway curved into a wide circle, its pavement cracked and overrun with weeds. At the top of the drive, framed by two massive open doors, stood a woman.

She had silver-blue hair and watched their approach with feral, yellow eyes. A pair of wolf-like ears atop her head marked her as something clearly other than human.

She wore a fitted Victorian-style coat of charcoal grey, high-collared and hugging tight to her torso, then cinched at the waist where it flared out. Beneath the coat, black trousers were tucked into polished leather boots.

As the wind tugged at her coat, it also revealed a bushy silver-blue tail. As she unfolded her arms Hilda noticed the sword sheathed at her hip, then pointed nails—no, claws—on the tips of her fingers.

“Your mistress… I presume?” Hilda asked, not hiding her caution.

“No. That’s Terri,” Alice said, almost too casually. “Feel free to irritate her, if you like. Park over there.”

Gravel crunched under the tires as Hilda pulled into place. By the time she shifted into park, the woman—Terri—was already approaching.

Hilda kept one hand on the steering wheel while the other subconsciously fiddled with the air, fingers brushing against her staff in its immaterial form. Whatever this woman was, she clearly wasn’t a reaper—too much color for that—but she clearly was not human, either. Not monstrous enough to be a demon, and certainly not a spirit.

So then…

Hilda’s gaze zeroed in on the pointed, wolf-like ears perched atop the woman’s head. A minor deity, maybe? A god? The old legends spoke of such beings—but what business would a god have with reapers?

Following Alice’s lead, Hilda climbed out of the Jeep, stuffing her keys into her back pocket as she walked around the hood. Her gaze drifted up, past the wolf-girl, to the manor behind her. The building was painted a dusty, matte black. The windows stood hollow, with only a few containing torn curtains. The walls were untouched by moss or ivy. In fact, the grass at the base was completely dead—withered to brittle straw.

“Child of Claire Eastbourne?” Terri asked, revealing sharp, gleaming fangs behind her lips as she spoke.

“As promised,” Alice replied.

Hilda’s attention snapped back at the mention of her mother’s name. She noticed the tension between the two—Alice standing stiffly, one foot drawn slightly back like a fighter ready to strike. They were not friends.

Terri’s golden eyes settled on Hilda. “Come. Mistress waits.”

It wasn’t an invitation. It was a command. Without checking to see if Hilda followed, she turned and strode toward the manor.

Hilda looked to Alice, who offered only a curt nod.

There was no turning back now.

Steeling herself, Hilda stepped forward and followed the reaper and the wolf-woman through the towering double doors—so black they looked scorched, as if the wood itself had once burned but refused to crumble.

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Chapter 137 - Doll House