The words were heard. The statement that caused Death to hesitate when he first met Rhizome, now spurred him into action. Erebus was not a warrior. He was a psychopomp, a guide for souls. Despite his reputation, he did not actually take life. What he did understand was how not to be noticed, and how to use that to his advantage.
Darker-than-black rabbit feet landed silent on the rock that overlooked the underground water. Even the air remained still as two black-furred feet swung around and knocked Ghostpaw to the side. A sleek midnight form leapt into the cold water.
Erebus was not thinking of consequences as he tucked forelegs under Rhizome. He did not worry beyond the moment the two of them broke the surface of the water and he dragged the mortal rabbit out of the basin and onto the rocky surroundings. Pushing the water out of Rhizome’s lungs was an act done by instinct, the god more aware of what the body needed to avoid death than many healers. There was only the moment of making sure Rhizo could breathe on his own.
Rhizo did not awaken, but finally settled into weak, shallow breaths. Erebus laid next to his friend, heart racing from his choice.
That was wrong. Erebus did not use what one might call a physical body. He never felt his heart beat before, and he was shaking from overexertion and worry. Eyes slightly wide, he looked at his hands. They also shook. Death’s hands did not shake. He looked around. While most would not have seen anything wrong, his ability to see color was muted. No reds, just grays, with some greens and hints of blue in the rocks and water.
Somewhere in that panic, he realized he was surrounded by rabbits. The ones who hurt Rhizome. Erebus tried to fade into the shadows. When that failed, he tried to expand his perceptions. He whimpered. He desperately glanced at the crowd, trying to understand what they were about to do. “It is not his time! He will not die!”
The circle parted and Ghostpaw hopped close. As many demanded before him, the rabbit asked, “Who are you?”
For all the times Erebus had heard that question, this was the first where the one asking did not know the answer. Stunned, he mumbled, “You can’t tell, can you?”
Ghostpaw drew back his stump to strike, then lowered it to the ground. Fear crept into his expression. “Death’s paw. Here to dwell among us.”
Erebus swallowed awkwardly, and nodded. What had Fate done?
“Take our honored guests to the deluxe kettle,” Ghostpaw ordered. “Rhizome has survived, bring healers and let the herbalists see what they can do.”
Bia objected, “But, my king, there was interference. Surely, that doesn’t count.”
“The basin has decided,” Ghostpaw insisted. “He went into the stars and lived. If he wakes up, then he has been found worthy.”
“Of course, Ghostpaw.”
Erebus winced at the obvious disappointment in her voice. Still, the guards pushed him to move. He was guided out of the chamber with the others.
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The deluxe kettle was an exquisite cage. Not that the rabbits knew what a cage was. Apparently, the group was to be treated to good food and an open area. The kettle was indeed above ground. A gentle breeze brought fresh air as light from the late morning sun filtered down through the ceiling of leaves. It even had multiple exits; two runs led to it. Yet, it was surrounded by a mesh of climbing vines, branches and leaves that would be difficult, if not impossible, to break through. Perhaps one could chew or dig their way out, but the guards that blocked the entrances would notice.
Erebus sulked on the ground. Eitan, Gurin and Mune had their accommodations upgraded to this new prison. For food, fresh spring foliage was brought in, dandelion leaves, baby grasses and the like. Death was not hungry, he was worried about Rhizome. The local healers were part of the occupied warren, and slaves did not make good doctors. Hopefully, they were told Rhizome was also a prisoner.
Eventually, Eitan walked over and timidly asked, “Are you— Are you him?”
“Thank you for looking after him.” Erebus sighed. “I should have done more. I should have known Fate would do something like this. She told me the trial wouldn’t be fair.”
Mune hopped over. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. This is a trial about changing visions and the future; your ability to choose.” Erebus looked at his hands. No, they were forepaws now. “I seem to be a rabbit. Fate said there would be consequences if I got involved, but I had to do something. He was supposed to witness a tragedy, not become one.”
“Is it safe to talk?” Eitan asked.
“At this point, Fate knows. Whatever will happen is already set in motion.” He whimpered. “She did promise the trial would be winnable, and that she won’t take her frustrations out on those Rhizome has saved. Beyond that, only Fate knows the rules of this challenge.”
Gurin grumbled at his failure to get any information out of a guard and hopped over. “What is with this warren?”
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“You don’t know?” Erebus’ ears perked up.
“These are the rabbits who took over the warren I grew up in, but that was days east of here,” Eitan said. “Why are there here?”
“And what happened to the herbalists?” Gurin added.
“You— We’re in so much danger.” A sudden fear gripped him; could he die? “I can’t leave. I don’t know if anyone can die right now. Maybe those who die will simply be lost, with no one to guide them. Trapped between or just vanish. She couldn’t have wanted that. That’s too high a price for anything.”
Eitan cuffed him. “Snap out of it. You’re not a rabbit; you’re Death. Real, actual, Death. Maybe you’re here to get a rabbit’s perspective, but can Fate take away what you are?”
Erebus sighed and thought on those words. Eitan was right. What was needed was a fresh perspective. Rhizome didn’t know what would happen when he died, yet he was brave. Mune and Gurin followed him to this warren without understanding what would happen. They had only known about some great tragedy. And the weasel, Eitan, the one glaring at Death, he knew he would die this winter. Eitan accepted that and moved past it without knowing what would be on the other side. To them, the now was important, doing what was needed right now and letting the future work itself out. Exactly what he had done to save Rhizome.
Laughter came. The absurdity of it all was, for once, beyond Erebus’ ability to process. “I’m not used to not knowing. You are. Maybe we can figure this out together.”
Gurin asked, “Is Alvis dead? No one has even acknowledged he was here.”
Erebus checked his memories. While Death did visit each in turn, as a god, he had to split off fragments to handle most everyday deaths. Sometimes recalling what happened to minor parts of himself was difficult. “He’s alive. Or was as of this morning. No, he’s alive as of now. I can still sort of tell who’s been dying. It’s not easy though. Sifting through all the animals, plants and other things that have died.”
“So, there isn’t an apoc— apocalyptic ending of a world without Death,” Gurin said. “Good to know. So, if you can die, it’s likely that will simply fail the test.”
“And hurt,” Erebus winced. “I’m being selfish. I’m sorry.”
Mune put a paw on Erebus’ shoulder. “Take a moment to be afraid. You’re going to have to get used to fear if you’re going to help us.”
“So, this warren,” Erebus pushed through his concern, “Bia’s rabbits were exiled from their home warren of Rockspring last Summer. After taking over your home, they attracted Ghostpaw and made a strong warren with those who would follow him. But their winter stores were destroyed by deer, so they made a desperate journey here. I can sort of trace it by those who died. When they got here, the herbalists were more or less subjugated. Ghostpaw survived the trial of the basin, and took over, promoted above his mate.”
He gulped and frowned. “I know a lot of the rabbits here chose to become guardians of the basin. It’s responsible for the curse they’re talking about. And then there was Thistle—”
“Stop talking!” One of the guards shouted. “The traitor’s name is forbidden.”
Erebus sighed. “Well, she said the accusations were false when I guided her soul. I’m sorry I don’t know more.”
“That helps a bit.” Eitan thought. “So, what can we do to help Rhizome? You’d be able to remember if he died, but at that point it’d be too late.”
“Well, maybe if we could examine him, or find Alvis?” Gurin asked. “Can we use what Death knows to get to him?”
“Call me Erebus.” He wasn’t sure if using his real name was a good idea, but it made more sense than letting everyone call him Death’s Paw or Death.
“Okay, can we use what Erebus knows to get to Rhizome?” Eitan pondered. “Rhizo could probably just talk his way down there.”
“I’m mostly used to arguing with those who don’t want to go with me.” Erebus shivered a little, ears flat to his head, embarrassed at his past and how easy to read his emotions must be.
“Mune, do you have any ideas?” Eitan asked, although he had already gone to one of the guards. The one called Mange.
“We need to see Rhizome,” Mune explained. “You know you can trust me. You know we’re here to help, and we can only do that if we know what’s going on.”
Mange shivered. “Please, stop asking. Ferris will report us if we just leave. Or talk too long.”
Ferris was the one who told them not to speak of Thistle. A large rabbit, well-muscled, and trained to fight and kill. Although, Erebus knew something else.
The black rabbit hopped up to the guard. “Ferris, I need you to do something.”
“What?”
“We’re going to find our friend, and I need you to let us.”
Ferris glared at Erebus. He looked over the black rabbit, unsure if that was a threat. “Why would I do that?”
“Because of a promise you made.” He leaned in and let both ears focus on the guard. “Do you think I wasn’t there? When your father was dying he asked you to make him proud. Now, are you going to do the right thing?”
“Everyone’s father tells them that,” Ferris grunted. “I’m going to go back to standing guard and pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Erebus spoke simply. The memory of what happened was clear, and only three beings knew what had been said. “My son, I do not approve of this leader you follow. His lust for violence is not the way of a rabbit. Our abilities are for the protection of a warren, not to fight among ourselves. Mark my words, he will harm others. Promise me that you won’t be part of that. Promise you won’t become a predator’s paw, even if that predator wears the form of a rabbit.”
Ferris’ eyes were wide. He listened with both ears. He whispered, “I promise, father,” before collapsing on the ground. “This can’t be happening. No one else was there.”
“I was. Your father was a good rabbit. He met me with pride and strength. Even in the last moments, even as I led him away, he never showed fear. He believed in you, Ferris.” Erebus nosed the guard. “Please, let us make sure our friend is okay.”
Tears fell from Ferris’ eyes. “Go.”
Mange hopped over to him. “Ferris, we’ll fix things. I’ll be with them and I’ll make sure they come back.”
Slowly, Ferris nodded and slipped into silent introspection.
Mange left down one of the runs, leading the others to where Rhizome was being treated.