Chapter 2: In Which Riddick Meets Death's Butler and Visits a Witch's Cottage.

The ground vanishing beneath their feet was like no ground he'd ever seen. For one thing, the "planet," if that was, it appeared to be a flat disc, with oceans pouring off the edges like waterfalls into the endless abyss. For another, it seemed to be on the back of a giant turtle.

He was slightly embarrassed to realize he was gripping the girl very tightly as the horse flew through the sky. After far too long, they landed someplace that seemed to be drawn all in black. He couldn't decide whether they had left the world below. Strangely, whatever the light was, it didn't hurt his eyes.

An old man was waiting. His posture screamed "servant." But servants in the Necroverse would have rushed forward to help the woman dismount. This man, very definitively, was not feeling helpful. "Susan." He tugged his forelock, radiating sarcasm. "So glad you could make time to stop by."

Riddick was momentarily distracted by the fact he knew what a forelock was. Susan interrupted. "Thanks Albert. Where's grandfather gotten to this time?" She dismounted easily. Almost regretfully, Riddick slid to the ground next to her. He was growing to like the horse.

Albert snorted. "This new friend of yours," and he jerked a shoulder at Riddick contemptuously "tried to destroy a universe. Making a good run at it. Lots of Deaths got asked over to help sort through it all, try to stop it from spreading through the multiverse. Your Grandfather was hoping to get his part done before you were needed, but no such luck."

"Oh, librarian poo. What did he do?"

"Sent billions through a portal to a dungeon dimension. Made it very crowded. Too crowded."

Dungeon dimension?

"The imbecile."

"Hey. I'm right here, lady. Which I didn't ask to be."

"Right." Her look was withering. "I didn't ask to be Death's adopted granddaughter. And I've found very few people who meet my family ask to."

He stared at her, not comprehending her words. "Who are you?"

"Oh, please allow me to introduce myself, I thought you knew." She backed up, bowed deeply, ironically. "I am the Duchess Susan Sto Helit. I am also, right now, Death, The Destroyer of Worlds, the Bringer of Darkness, the Fourth Horseperson. It's a family thing. You can call me Susan."

"Susan."

"Yes."

"And Death."

"Yes. When grandfather goes on walk abouts, the Pale Horse," and she nodded toward Binky, who was grazing peacefully, "comes for me. Other times, I'm a simple school teacher." Her voice dripped acid. "I let a room in a nice house in the city."

"You have a secret identity?"

"Nothing secret about it at all. I'm Death. Sometimes. And I teach school. Albert, do you know where I have to go?"

"Yes, child." Albert pulled an hourglass out of a leather satchel. "A witch. Collect her, and things should get back on track. Give your grandfather some more time to deal with the bulging dungeon dimension your boy created."

"Thanks, Albert." She took the hourglass from Albert solemnly, and secreted it somewhere. Where the hell did she put that thing? She vaulted back onto Binky's back, then hesitated. She looked at Riddick. "You better come with me."

"Come where?"

"Back to the Disc. I've got a soul to collect."

"Goggles."

"What?"

"Light down there bugs me."

She laughed. "You're a creature of the night? Beautiful." She leaned down and peered closely into his eyes. It had been a very long time since any one had done that. Since Jack had done that. His eyes prickled. He couldn't look away from this girl, who seemed more than a girl, her eyes were like black holes, he was falling into the darkness, and for just an instant, it was Jack in front of him; Jack as he imagined she would have looked before his eyes had been shined –

And then he was wearing goggles. "How the fuck did you do that?"

"This is my kingdom. Death's just transformation," she said as if quoting some ancient text, "and I'm Death right now." She offered him a hand. He ignored it and mounted the pale horse behind her without her help. She shrugged and launched them, again, into the ethereal sky.

"Is that a turtle?" Riddick finally asked, as the world below came back into view, with its oceans pouring into the infinite night.

"What?"

"Down there. Under the . . . world."

She looked down. "Great A'Tuin, yup."

"Your world's on the back of a giant turtle?"

"It's turtles all the way down. Well, there are the elephants too. You really aren't from around here, are you?"

"Nope."

After a moment, she continued, almost grudgingly. "What's your world look like?"

"Don't really have one. Last address was a space ship. But most worlds are balls. And they orbit their suns." He looked over at the sun blazing in the sky, below them. "At least where I come from. Your sun orbits your . . . turtle?"

"Oh, you're from a round world?" For the first time, she sounded pleased with him. She turned around to look at him. "Lobsang told me about them."

"Lobsang?"

There was a blush in her voice. "We have an understanding."

"Huh?"

His lack of understanding irritated her. "Nothing."

You've got a boyfriend? Some guy with a death wish? He didn't bother to repress his own snort.

The horse landed behind a farmhouse. Susan dismounted, shook herself, seemed to get taller. The ghostly edges of a cape seemed to coalesce around her. She walked into the farmhouse.

She didn't open the door first.

Riddick dismounted more slowly, still not sure about this whole horse business. He took stock of the yard. Hanging from a nearby tree was a bag with a note. He picked it up.

"Fer the hrs" it said. Binky bumped his hand in a knowingly, affectionately insistent fashion. Riddick hesitated. Finally, not knowing what else to do, he reached into the bag, pulled out an apple, handed it to the horse. Binky took it gently, crunching it whole happily. A sweet smell. Riddick tipped the rest of the bag out on the ground. It was full of oats and carrots. Binky munched happily.

Riddick looked around the yard. Aside from a freshly dug open grave, it wasn't particularly impressive. He was dourly certain that was an outhouse over there.

He wandered over to the grave. It was empty. Lots of footprints. Looked like lots of people had visited. There was a clear track from the grave to the house. What the hell. Never been in a witch's cottage before. Aren't they supposed to be gingerbread?

He used the back door. It seemed right somehow.

Susan was sitting by an old woman. Another young woman with a baleful look to her was banging dishes around. She glared at him. "So it's your fault." It wasn't a question. No one's happy to see me here.

"Be nice, Matilda," the old woman said wearily. "Come 'ear and let me look at you, deary."

He approached slowly. The woman was so old she had shrunken small, but her eyes were still sharp. "So you're the one who mucked things up. Only fair you help me out now. My pall bearers had to go home." She pulled herself up in bed painfully. "Well, come on. Carry me out."

Riddick looked at Susan helplessly. "What?"

Susan's voice was quiet, serious. "Witches know when they are going to die. Mary was supposed to die this morning, but Death has to take personal possession of a witch's soul, and Grandfather was gone. Now, all the guests have gone home. Including the pall bearers. She's too old to walk."

"Oh."

The old woman smiled at him. "Don't worry about it, ducky. Twelve more hours was a gift."

She's in pain, he realized. She was the first truly old person he'd seen in a long time. Necros didn't get old. Prisoners never got old. Jack never got old. Seeing this woman lie there made him strange; like he was seeing something he never thought to see. Someone dying at the end of a long life.

"Yes," she said, quietly, as if she was a Quasidead, reading his thoughts. "You wouldn't have seen much of that, would you? Poor child. Doing the best you can." She raised her arms to him like a child looking to be carried. He approached slowly.

Just passing through, he reminded himself. Just playing along until I know the game. "I'm okay," he said, gruffly. He lifted the old woman up in his arms. She weighed almost nothing.

"No, you're really not," she sniggered. "But you could be."

Matilda scurried around, opened the door. He carried the old woman carefully, knowing where they were going. Her grave was deep. Seemed wrong to just dump her into it. He sat down on the edge, cradled her close, and dropped.

There was a mattress on the bottom. And a pillow. Strange. He crouched and laid the witch down awkwardly in the small space. She smiled up at him.

It all got very strange. Somehow, Susan was in the grave too. She had the scythe in her hand. Somehow, she swung it.

The woman smiled up at him again, and she wasn't old any more. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" she breathed. Riddick was uncomfortably aware that he was crouched on top a very beautiful woman. Susan was gone.

"What the fuck just happened?" he asked softly.

"You can see me?" she asked, delighted, "even after Death herself has cut the cord?" The woman's smile was intoxication itself.

"Yeah."

She stood, even though that was impossible because she must have had to stand through him. He stood too. The old woman's corpse was still at his feet. But she was also young, and standing next to him. She cupped his face in her suddenly young and strong hands. "Yes. You see everything. You have found your destiny, haven't you?"

He shrugged, strangely reluctant to dislodge her hands. "Huh?"

She shook her head. "You had it right, just play along. You'll figure it out. If I had more time--" She broke it off with a tinkling laugh. "Help me out, my knight!" He reached up, snagged the edge of the grave with one hand. With courtesy that was all mimed from Vaako, he offered her a hand.

She took it and, impetuously, kissed him hard. It was wonderful, but incredibly disturbing. She broke off the kiss, gave him a rueful smile. "Oh, if I'd met you sixty years ago . . ."

He pulled them both out of the grave. She now weighed less than nothing. Susan and Matilda were staring at him.

"Keep this one close, deary. I think you're gonna be glad of him." The no-longer-old woman bowed low to Susan. Susan reached forth. And then they were both gone.

That was weird. After a few seconds of silence, Matilda rounded on him. "Because of you, she had twelve more hours of agony. And it was horrifyingly embarrassing to get the time of death wrong."

Riddick ignored her, walking back to Binky, who nickered at him softly. He stroked the horse's neck, reassured by the solidity of it. Animals. He liked animals. Matilda followed. "What were you doing down there?" Her voice was an accusation.

He shrugged. "Just talking."

"To a dead woman."

"Yeah."

She glared at him. Lots of people doing that lately. One thing about being the Lord Marshal, no one ever gave you a dirty look. Her voice was an accusation. "You can see the dead. You're not a wizard. You're certainly not a witch. You don't look like a god. What are you?"

He smiled a long, slow, dangerous smile. "Just passing through, sweet cheeks."

She snorted, completely unimpressed. What is it with the girls here? Have I lost my touch? "Just passing through, on the Pale Horse. Who are you?"

Something in the air suddenly felt wrong. But before he could ask why the words "Pale Horse" took ominous italics, Susan reappeared. There was gray dust clinging to her boots. "He's my problem. And congratulations on your new cottage, Mistress."

The young witch smiled, and there was a touch of malice in it. "Thank you."

Susan bowed. "Until we meet again." Then she gathered Riddick up with a look and they left on Binky's back again.