Chapter 2:
In hindsight, Death supposed he should have seen this coming. After Jack had calmed down from his crying fit, he had been utterly exhausted, which had resulted in him collapsing the instant he'd gotten some of his wits back.
Which was how Death found himself in his current position; leaning against a tree with a lapful of sleeping winter spirit.
His steed had been decidedly unhelpful in the entire situation; when the damnable creature had finally decided to seek him out, the horse had done little more than approach the pair and examine the snoozing bundle in his master's arms. Then, looking as smug as it was possible for a horse to look, Death's steed had wandered off and began happily munching on grass.
Death knew his horse had wanted him to take some time off for a while now, but really. Famine was going to be in quite the mood when she came looking for him, which she eventually would.
The simplest thing to do, Death mused, would have been to leave the boy where he was and return when his business overseas was concluded. And yet he couldn't bring himself to do it.
A sudden, sharp shift in position from Jack, accompanied by a sound somewhere between a cry and a whimper, reminded him exactly why that was. Death loosened his grip on the boy long enough for the child to settle himself so he was lying against Death's chest before wrapping his arms around Jack again, carding a hand through snow-soft hair when the boy gave another quiet cry. Jack relaxed at the touch immediately and his expression evened out as he slipped deeper into sleep.
Death suppressed a sigh as his horse, drawn by Jack's distress, trotted back over to take stock of the situation. The pale steed lowered his head, nose barely brushing over the winter sprite's cheek as he took in the child's scent. Jack twitched just slightly, then buried his face in Death's chest before curling in on himself. Death's steed whickered quietly, pawing the ground in agitation as his master gently rubbed the frost sprite's back to calm him.
"Please try not to wake him, my friend. He has been through enough today as it is," Death said, voice barely above a whisper. His horse studied him from one obsidian eye before returning his attention to Jack.
"Why did the Moon abandon his foal?"
Death did sigh then. "I do not know what he was thinking, waking the child with absolutely no memory and just leaving him like that."
And he honestly couldn't fathom what had possessed the Man in the Moon to do such a thing. To bring a being back to life with no memory and thus no connection with the world around them, and then not assisting them in making any sort of meaningful connections was beyond cruel.
It was even worse for Jack. From what Death had seen so far, Jack's base personality hadn't been altered by his transformation; the boy thrived off of positive, friendly connections with other beings. For the Moon to ignore that fact was… Well, Death didn't feel there was a word in any language strong enough to describe his anger toward the Tsar.
His horse suddenly raised his head and turned to look to the north, drawing Death out of his musings. A whinny of greeting had him turning his own head to face a black horse as it came trotting out of the woods toward them. Its rider wore a long tunic, boots and breeches that matched the steed's coat, the clothing a stark contrast to her pale skin and white blonde hair. The woman's frame was almost skeletal; she looked entirely too small to be able to control the horse despite the fact that it was even smaller than Death's mount. The expression on her face would have cast considerable doubt on any such assumptions, though.
"I think you're in trouble," Death's horse said.
Death probably would have groaned if he didn't think it would wake Jack. Though she certainly looked less imposing, Famine could be even worse than War when she was irritated enough to take him to task, and she certainly had enough reason to considering he'd apparently ignored her earlier summons.
Famine brought her steed to a halt a few feet away from the tree Death had settled himself against and dismounted. Her stern expression slipped just slightly as Death's horse ambled over and pressed his face into her chest.
"Hello, you," she cooed, scratching between his ears. "Has your master been working too hard again? Has he been ignoring you too?" The last bit was said with a pointed, narrow-eyed look in Death's direction.
"That's what you'd like everyone to believe, isn't it?" Death said, still in Horse. His steed merely twitched and ear in response before proceeding to nuzzle around Famine's pockets in search of treats. She laughed, reaching into a pouch strapped just behind her right hip and producing a large red apple. Death's horse took it in his teeth and, much to Famine's surprise, trotted back over to his master. It was Death's turn to be surprised when his horse placed the fruit in the crook of Jack's elbow, then gently nosed the boy's shoulder.
"Do you think he still needs to eat?" the horse asked.
"I very much doubt it, but it might bring him some comfort," Death answered, studying Jack's face. The boy was relaxed now, and the slightest smile curled his lips for a moment when Death's horse rubbed his shoulder again.
"What is that?" All hostility was gone from Famine's voice as she came up beside the horse and noticed the bundle in Death's arms. "That's not a soul."
"Not exactly," Death said, keeping his voice pitched low as Famine crouched beside him to examine the frost spirit. He watched from the corner of his eye as her lips thinned, then her brows furrowed.
"He feels like one of the Man in the Moon's spirits. Why are you bothering with him? But… wait, why is he able to touch you? He's not…," Famine paused. Death could feel her probing at Jack's soul as he had, and her eyes went wide when she realized what was wrong. Her mouth opened, but a stern look from Death had her closing it immediately. She studied her colleague for a moment before returning her attention to the sleeping child.
"What happened?" she whispered. She knew Death wouldn't have stayed with the boy this long, wouldn't have ignored her summons like he had, unless something had gone badly wrong. Well, more wrong than a botched resurrection at any rate.
"He had no memory when he woke," Death said quietly, adjusting his grip accordingly as Jack curled up a bit further.
"None at all?" Famine asked, barely above a whisper.
"Not as far as I could tell," Death responded. "The Moon simply told him his name and abandoned him."
"WHAT?!"
The level of incredulous rage contained in that (rather loud) whisper had both steeds raising their heads and staring warily at the Black Horseman. Jack made a tiny noise of distress, though thankfully remained asleep. Death calmed him by resuming stroking his hair; he was quite pleased at the moment that Famine was better at controlling her aspect than War when her emotions ran high.
"He just left a child he raised from the dead, with no memory, without even telling him what he is?" Famine said, voice dangerously low. The grass around her feet was steadily withering, her flesh becoming even sallower. Her horse whinnied in agitation behind her, which appeared to calm her the slightest bit. The ring of dead grass around her feet stopped growing.
"He didn't even respond when someone walked through the boy," Death said, allowing some of his own anger to color his voice.
"He didn't…," Famine quickly stood and walked back over to her steed when her aspect started expanding again. Death considered it lucky she'd had the sense to do so when the grass blackened wherever she stepped. The black steed, sensing his rider's mood, trotted over to her and lowered his head with a worried nicker. Famine reached up and absently ran her fingers through his mane as she glared up at the Moon shining through the trees. When she did nothing else for a minute, her steed snorted and bumped his head against her chest. He managed to get his rider to look at him and when she saw the way he was looking at her, she managed a wan smile and rubbed his head between the eyes.
Since Famine's horse was taking care of her, Death deemed it safe to turn his attention to Jack when the child suddenly jerked in his sleep again, grabbing onto Death's robes in a vice grip. Death gently rubbed circles along Jack's spine and the child relaxed again after a few seconds. Well, everything but his grip did.
Famine laughed as she moved back over to him. "Look at him; he's latched onto you like a little clam."
"Wonderful," Death said dryly, glaring at his horse as it snorted with amusement.
Famine crouched beside him again, tilting her head to the side as she examined the sleeping child's expression. Slowly, a gentle smile crept across her face.
"He's an adorable little thing," she said, reaching our and carding a hand gently through Jack's snow-white hair. "What's his name?"
"The Moon named him Jack Frost."
"And… before?"
"Jackson Overland."
"How old?"
"Fourteen."
Famine blinked in surprise. "That young? How did it happen?"
"A combination of cold shock and drowning," Death answered, glancing at Jack and moving to stroke his again when the child moved to rest his head against Death's shoulder. He sighed, looking down at the boy's slumbering face. "What am I going to do with you, child?"
"What are you going to do with him? He's a frost spirit, for crying out loud! The summer sprites will tear him to pieces, like they did the others! Land sakes, what was War thinking with that mess?" Famine muttered the last bit under her breath.
"You know that wasn't her fault. She had her hands full with the Crusades, and humans tend to need our attention more than spirits."
"She could've at least tempered things a bit more! The winter sprites were almost completely wiped out, and they never recovered from it!"
Famine's tirade was thankfully cut short when Jack shifted again, making a tiny noise of contentment. Her gaze immediately softened when it was drawn to the young spirit. "I think this is the first time I've seen anyone so happy in your arms," she grinned.
Under different circumstances Death would've rolled his eyes at the joke. Now, though, his expression remained grim. "He doesn't know who I am."
Famine's expression fell. "Well, that complicates things. Are we going to tell him?"
"I do not know what the best course of action is at this point. He's frightened and confused as it is; learning of a connection to the realm of the dead…to me… will most likely make things worse. And, as you mentioned before, there is the matter of the general suspicion of the other spirits toward winter fey. If they learned of one with a connection to the realm of the dead, the consequences would in all odds be catastrophic."
"But you don't intend to leave him, either," Famine said with an arched look.
Death shook his head. "No. He believes me to be another spirit; I'll allow him to continue to think so for now."
"He'll need help as his powers mature; I'm sure War would be more than happy to teach him," Famine said, her nomination of the Red Horseman laced with a sarcastic undertone.
"I think it would be best to hold off introducing them for a while; she's in a bit of a sulk over the Spanish Succession, if I remember correctly," Death said, a small smile curling his lips. "Pestilence and some of the more senior Reapers would be better options."
"Solriss is your most level-headed Reaper. He'll be more than happy to take some time off to watch the child. Do you even know where Pestilence is? I haven't seen hide nor hair of him or his horse in over a year."
"I have a few ideas."
It was Famine's turn to sigh as she looked at the sleeping Jack again. "War's going to be upset when she hears about this."
Death laughed. "'Upset' is the best we can hope for."
Famine smiled, too. "So, I suppose we've adopted a frost spirit."
"It would appear that way, yes."