The trip from the Underworld to the Realm of Thought had taken a little more than five seconds, but they were probably the most jarring five seconds of discorporation that Jane had yet experienced. When they solidified, she collapsed to the ground on her hands and knees, gasping for air and begging for the world to slow. When it eventually complied, she stood up and took stock of her surroundings, ignoring the usual quip from Death about her motion sickness.
“Wow,” Jane said.
“Impressive, is it not?” Death said.
“Its… green.”
“Indeed. This part, anyway. Humans from the Maker Plane have always dreamed of lush glades and abundant crop lands, but it has gotten far more… fantastical, I would say, in recent years.”
“Thank you, Verne and Tolkien,” Jane muttered.
She stepped towards an ancient looking tree, reaching up to brush her hand against a single leaf. At her touch it changed from a vibrant green to a sparkling gold. It then folded itself in half like a butterfly flapping its wings, chiming out a slight bell-like noise, and took off from its branch. A whole ringing cloud of leaves rose after it, chasing the first before being blown away on a gust of wind.
“Wow,” Jane said again. “We really are in a land of make-believe.” She turned towards Death. “High-school me would have had a field day here and oh my God what’s happened to you?”
“What?”
“Your face.”
“What about it?”
“You have one.”
It was still Death. Same wicked scythe, same dusty cloak, same far-too-formal voice, but now they—or rather, she—had grown skin. A pale, translucent layer of skin, ash-white with a bluish hue, now covered their skull in a distinctly female shape. Their teeth were still visible through their cheeks and lips, giving them the appearance of a sugar-skull from Día de los Muertos. They’d also grown a pair of eyes with black sclera and pale-blue pupils, set atop black sockets that were also lightly visible through their skin.
They were beautiful, if not in a terribly haunting way.
Death smiled, then blinked in mild shock. They lifted a manicured hand to their face, lightly touching their cheek, and worked their mouth back and forth from neutral to smiling several times before chuckling. “Ah. It has been so long since I’d last crossed the boundary that I had almost forgotten. Do you remember when I mentioned how the Council and myself debated about how our forms came to be? Specifically, about how our forms could have been chosen for us?”
Jane nodded after a moment. “You’ve changed based on your environment. Is that it?”
“Indeed. Tell me, what do I look like right now?” Jane described their appearance to them. Death said, “I suppose I am fortunate that I chose to take us to a milder edge of this realm. I would have disliked alarming you with some of my other appearances.”
“Your normal body is a walking skeleton whose eyes burn when mad. I’m sure I would’ve been fine.”
Death raised an eyebrow at her, then did it several more times in a comical way that they clearly enjoyed. But when they spoke it was with a grave timbre. “No, Jane. You would not have. Many in their final moments imagine me as their deepest fear. I am thankful that you did not when your time came.”
“We’re getting off-track,” Jane said hurriedly. “Let’s go find a dream that’s about to die.”
Death regarded Jane thoughtfully for several moments before nodding. “As you wish. Come. Take my hand.”
Death’s hand was cool and clammy, but far more comfortable to grip than bones. With their fingers entwined, Death tapped their scythe on the ground. The green forest around them stretched as though they’d just hit warp speed, lasting for several seconds before righting itself all at once.
“Hurgh.” Jane staggered away but managed to stay upright this time.
“Ssh,” Death raised a single finger to their mouth. “Return to my side immediately. Do not interfere.”
Jane blinked, then looked around. Several yards away, sitting within a ring of flowers on a small wooden chair, was what Jane could only describe as a big, blue, fluffy bear, but unlike any bear she’d ever seen. Its eyes were far apart, its brow was heavy and slab-like, it had ridges down its back that ended in a serpentine tail, and it had ram horns curling in spirals to either side of its head. It was also apparently expecting company, as a tiny tea table had been set up beside it, full with delicious looking pastries and cups full of chromatic liquids.
It didn’t seem to notice Jane as she quickly stepped back next to Death. “What is it?”
“Her name is Mamarma,” Death said. “She is two years, four months, five days, seven hours, and two minutes old. She was born to Cassidy Freeman at age four, who named her after hearing the word ‘marmoset’ and imagined what such a creature would look like. Cassidy had always wanted an older sister, and in times of loneliness, she would turn to Mamarma. But now Cassidy doesn’t want her anymore.”
A wave of gloom unexpectedly washed over Jane. “An imaginary friend.”
“Precisely.”
“When will it…um…happen?”
“She has minutes left.”
Jane fell silent, at a loss for words. The minutes ticked by slowly, and Jane’s anxiety built with every passing breath. When its death happened, it happened suddenly and dramatically.
Mamarma’s body shuddered, and her deep, cerulean blue fur turned a shocking grey. The tea table’s legs broke from underneath the countertop, and all the neatly assorted foods and drinks spilled to the ground before crumbling into dust.
“Jane, would you hold this for a moment?” Death asked, offering their scythe.
Jane took it without thinking. Death strode forward. Blinking, Jane rushed to follow. Mamarma slowly lifted her head, staring at Death with open shock as they stood before them.
“Hello, Mamarma,” Death said softly.
“H-hi,” the imaginary friend said, pulling back against her chair. “W-who are you? I-I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
Death crouched down low to be Mamarma’s height, sitting on their heels and wrapping their arms around their knees. “I’ve come to take you with me.”
“I can’t. I’m waiting for Cassy.”
“Cassidy isn’t coming, I’m afraid,” Death said softer.
Mamarma looked stricken. “You…you’re lying.”
“I am sorry.”
“No! No! She has to come! She has to!” Mamarma bolted from her seat and whipped her head around in a panic, looking ready to flee but unable to decide which direction. “She has to come! I’m the only one who makes her happy! She said so!”
“Mam—”
“If she doesn’t come then Lady Fear will get her! Please! Why can’t she come? Please get Cassy to come!”
Death said nothing, only looking at Mamarma with sad, patient eyes while she wailed. Jane gripped Death’s scythe with both hands until her knuckles were white.
“Mamarma—” Death began.
“Would you like to have tea with me?” Jane blurted.
Both Death and the imaginary friend turned their faces to look up at her. Jane shifted awkwardly. “Would… would you like to have tea with me? I’m really thirsty.”
“Wh-who’re you?” Mamarma sniffed, speaking with a warble.
“I’m Jane. I’m… I’m a friend of Cassy. A new friend.”
“R-really?”
“Yes… Yes! She’s told me all about you, and your parties. She…” —Jane gulped— “she told us to come get you. To bring you to where you can have the biggest. Tea party. Ev-er.”
Mamarma’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Mmmhmmm.” Jane crouched next to Death. “But we may have to wait a while for Cassy to join us. Can you do that for her?”
Mamarma wiped her eyes. “Of course. Anything for Cassy.”
“Even if it takes many, many years?” Jane asked. “Can you do that? Can you be strong for Cassy?”
Mamarma sniffed and puffed out her chest, giving Jane a firm nod. Her chin wobbled.
“You’re a good girl,” Jane said, awkwardly patting the imaginary friend’s shoulder. “Now. Is there anything left to drink?”
“Yes! I… um… I think there’s some blue stuff that didn’t spill. I think. Have you had blue stuff before? It’s the tastiest thing in the world!”
Mamarma scrambled to find cups that weren’t broken. With her attention pulled away, Death turned to give Jane a flat look. Jane avoided their gaze.
“Here!” Mamarma lifted a single cup in triumph between two paws. “Um… There’s only one… But you can have it.”
“That’s very sweet of you, dear.” Jane took the cup from her paws and tipped its contents into her mouth. It tasted like pure sugar, but she gave the bear a wide smile, who’d been watching with big, hesitant eyes. “Absolutely the tastiest thing in the world.”
Mamarma beamed.
Jane set the cup down. “Thank you so much, Mamarma.”
“You’re welcome!”
Jane nodded, gesturing to Death. “This nice lady is going to take you to where you can wait for Cassy. Are you ready?”
Mamarma furrowed her brow and looked around the ring of flowers uncertainly, but nodded after several seconds.
“Great.”
Jane looked at Death and handed over the scythe. Death took it silently, still staring at Jane. Jane motioned to the imaginary friend. Death sighed. “Take my hand, little one. We will be there soon.” Then to Jane, “I will be back presently.”
Death and Mamarma disappeared. Jane sat back on the ground, still cradling the tiny cup in her hands, and stared woodenly across the field. Thoughts—intrusive, hurtful thoughts—pried at her mind, but so long as she focused on the green of the glade, or the flowers around her, or the porcelain in her hand, then they wouldn’t enter.
A flash of light signaled the master of the Underworld’s reappearance. “You should not have done that, Jane.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Jane said softly, finally setting the cup aside.
Death walked around to Jane’s front. She didn’t look up. “You offered hope where none exists,” Death continued. “Would you like to know how many humans wish to reunite with their imaginary companions upon death? How many even remember that they ever existed at all?”
“What does that matter? Mamarma can find Cassidy when she passes.”
“Because that creature may wait one hundred years in solitude hoping to see its mother again, only to find that she’s no longer wanted.”
Jane looked sharply up at that. Death met Jane’s gaze with a disapproving glare. “You had best take responsibility.”
“How do you know there’s no hope?” Jane countered sharply, standing up and crossing her arms.
“I’ve watched it happen all too many times,” Death said, also crossing their arms. “Do you know how many ideas are abandoned by their creators? How many dreams? My realm is littered with nightmares, all waiting for their mothers and fathers, all wondering why they were abandoned for simply doing what they were made to do.”
“Well even if there isn’t, why can’t Mamarma simply wish for a Cassidy in an afterlife?”
“A soul is unique. Special. One can manifest all manner of things in my realm, but they cannot replicate a soul. Mamarma’s afterlife will have everything she wants it to have, but it will not have Cassidy Freeman no matter how much she desires it, unless Cassidy also wants her child.”
Jane stared at Death with mouth agape. “Why didn’t you tell me this!”
Death tilted their head, but their expression didn’t soften. “I will freely admit that this is information you should have been privy to—”
“You think?”
“—but would that have changed your actions just now?”
Jane snapped her mouth shut. She and Death regarded each other for several long moments. Finally, Death drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “There is some hope.”
Jane raised her eyebrows.
“Just as ideas die, they may also be reborn—rather more efficiently than a human from the Maker Plane if I may say so. One might even say that they walk between my realm and the Realm of Thought almost fluidly, in some cases. It is possible that Cassidy Freeman will call upon their child again someday.”
Death raised a single finger. “You will look after Mamarma until her mother passes, or until such a time that the imaginary companion is called upon once more. And—fate willing—they will be happy to see each other again. Is this fair?”
Jane slowly worked her jaw, but nodded in agreement. Death returned the nod. “Very good. Now. We have three more realms to see. Let us move on.”
Jane lifted her chin and stepped beside Death. Death raised their scythe.
“Death?”
Death paused, turning to look at her.
“Who is Lady Fear?”
“Do you truly wish to know?”
Jane fell silent. When she didn’t answer, Death brought their scythe down without a word.
Their next stop: the Realm of Hope.
ns 15.158.61.42da2
