Excerpt: After the First Death

As soon as they were back in the apartment, Seph was pulling off her scarf and shaking the snow out of her hair, tossing her winter clothes onto the chesterfield, and heading for the nearest pen and pad of paper. She felt rejuvenated, although she felt hesitant to admit it, as if somehow that would break the spell she was so glad to be under once more.

"Did you hear what Chris said just after you arrived?" she asked. Her cheeks were still chilled from the cold air. She uncapped the pen and began scribbling a title and date across the top of the page, leaning over the side of the island to do so. "I'd never heard of anything like that before. Isn't it weird how the most important pieces of information come out when people aren't even paying attention to what they're saying? Don't you find that?"

The boatman hadn't moved from the spot he'd hit when they'd arrived. He stood silently, his hands behind his back, as if waiting for Seph to notice something was amiss. Soon enough, she glanced up from her page of questions and notes and asked, "What are you doing, just standing there? You know you're welcome to get yourself some dinner. I got two long journeys out of you today, don't tell me you're not hungry."

"In thirty minutes, my fifty years will be up," said the boatman in response. "Your Highness."

She sniffled, the chill of the North Pole still with her. "What?" she asked, almost laughing. "What are you talking about?"

"Fifty years ago today, your husband found me and appointed me his new boatman," he elaborated. "My contract ends tonight."

Seph was puzzled. "So I'll contract you for another fifty years. No big deal."

A look of frustration passed over the boatman's face. "According to the rules and regulations as set down by the Fates, I'm afraid that's not allowed, Your Highness."

A jolt of realization shot through Seph and she stood up straight. "It's not allowed, or you don't want to?" she demanded.

There was a moment of silence before the boatman replied: "Both."