Death (The Four Horsemen, #4)

by Laura Thalassa

And one awful day, Lazarus goes too, and none of my knowledge of the afterlife does anything to dull the unbearable agony of her passing. I feel her soul slip away, I see its flight up into the heavens, and this time, though a part of my essence does lead her there, it’s not this part of me—the conscious, mortal man I’ve become. And then she’s gone. And somehow, I still live, though by all rights, the part of me that matters has left. For a handful of years I exist without her, and I understand finally, truly, Lazarus’s words about loss. Then, there comes a day when I feel my own death upon me, and I want to laugh that I have somehow come full circle—I am both Death and the dying. My children and grandchildren gather around me—and those of my brothers’ flesh as well. Ben, who’s an old man himself, holds my hand as I draw my final breaths. Between one thought and the next, I slip away. There is no ferryman to lead me on, but it doesn’t matter. I know the way. I have memorized it over the eons. There, standing at the threshold of the afterlife, are my brothers, their wives— And Lazarus, my sweet Lazarus. She opens her arms, and I walk into them. And once again I am home.

*sobs*