It made sense that every place should have a connection to death. Death had some claim everywhere. Death was in the wind coaxing a flower to blossom. Death hid in the wing of the bird folding itself to sleep. Death was in every breath she inhaled. Aru had never given much thought to death before now. No one she knew had died. She’d never had to mourn anyone. She assumed she’d be full of sadness on the day that happened. But walking through the Kingdom of Death, she felt a drowsy sort of peacefulness, like balancing on the border of sleeping and waking.
