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The Grim Reaper finally spoke, his voice low, ancient, like it had scraped its way up from the bottom of time.
"But I owe one to your patron. The Creator."
He paused, staring down at Rae’s stubborn little glowing form.
"I can see why he chose you for his bidding. Reluctantly. Begrudgingly. But I get it now."
A sigh, hollow and tired, slipped from his skull.
"So be it. I’ll give you a chance. To settle my debt with that guy. Even I don’t want to mess wi ...
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