~ Chapter Five ~
  Life and Death

Death waited for the Brewer's response.

Barley slowly backed away from the menacing specter that was confronting her Father.  Neither one of them saw her as she slowly sank back into the shadows of the room.

 Nobody that is, except for Smite. The oily black minion of Death caught movement at the far end of the room and cocked its head sideways trying to see what was happening.  Unable to see, the crow hopped heavily down the bar to improve its line of sight.  It finally saw Barley slipping back behind some tables, her left hand reaching for something concealed within her tunic.  What was that troublesome girl up to now? 

Smite quickly glanced at his Master, who was hovering over the human who had hit him with a beer mug.  He would not be surprised if The Master ripped the mortal’s heart out of his quivering chest and threw it into the fire.

“Tell me Brewer…” Death began as he silently slid the Collection tome beneath his robes. “What foolish thoughts are swimming in that head of yours?”   Death took a step towards the man and rose up to his full height. 

“What powers do you have?  My mortality you say?  Who are you to offer me such a gift? A God? A Demon? Please, enlighten me.”

The Reaper gestured towards the heavens with the large scythe mockingly.  Seeing no reaction, his eyes started to glow with impatience.  He leaned close to the brewers face, the cold bone of his skull just inches from the sweaty, pudgy face of the Brewer.

“Answer me!”

The Brewer could smell the rot of a thousand years on the specter’s breath.  His bluff was being called.

 Back in the far corner Barley fumbled within her clothes for a small whistle she hoped was still there.  In her frantic haste her sweaty hands could not locate the brass object.  She remembered putting it around her neck the other day, but since her recent fever she was not really sure of anything anymore.  Now Death himself was here and threatening her Father.  She would never have dreamed that in her worst nightmares.  She had to find that whistle.

Her back hit the wall.  No further, she had to act. Here legs were numb with the effects of the medicine. She was certain Death had not seen her scoot back into the dark corner, but she could see that his bird was hopping down the bar trying to see what she was up to.  A muffled cry from across the room caught her attention and she saw Death lifting her father by the throat with one skeletal hand and lifting the great scythe with the other.  He was going to kill him, even though it was not his time. Suddenly a flash caught her eye.  Halfway between her and the fireplace was the brass whistle lying on the floor.  She glanced at the crow, which caught her eye and followed her gaze.  Now Smite saw the whistle too.

Smite screeched in defiance as Barley dove for the whistle.  Death turned to see the girl leap across the floor with the bird right behind her.  Barley snatched up the whistle and slammed it into her mouth, blowing as hard as she could.  The shrill sound echoed throughout the tavern and the crow retreated to the rafters screeching madly.

After half a dozen ear shattering blows of the whistle Barley fell back weakly against the stone floor of the tavern exhausted.  She was still ill, and all this activity had weakened her.  She lay panting heavily on the floor, the whistle falling from her delicate lips. 

Death looked at Barley on the floor, up to the agitated bird hopping crazily on the rafters, then back to the girl.  Still holding the Brewer off the ground, he turned to look at him.  As Death tightened his grip he again heard the tortured wail of a thousand lost souls from outside. He had been careless once again. He had spent way too much time here. His gaze centered on the gasping Brewer. 

“I have no time for this. She dies.”

Death threw the man over the bar, his body crashing against the many beer steins and shelving.  Death motioned for Smite to come down from above and strode across the room to take care of the girl once and for all.  As he raised the scythe high to slice through the soul of the defenseless girl on the floor he suddenly was aware of another presence in the room. 

Scythe still in the air, Death turned slowly to see two large dogs ten feet away from him.  He now realized the purpose of the whistle. 

The dogs leaped to attack but immediately fell dead to the ground after passing through the mist that was Death.   The Reaper turned to look for the girl but was distracted once again by the growing wail of the dying outside. He could not neglect his duties any longer.

Dazed, the Brewer rose from behind the bar rubbing his bleeding forehead.  He glanced around the room and saw Death standing menacingly over his two murdered dogs.

“We have not finished our business mortal” Death said as he swung his black cloak around him.  The black bird swooped down from above and landed on his Master’s shoulder.

“I will return. There is no escape.”  Death stepped backward into a dark corner and vanished.

The Brewer gazed for a moment, then looked for his daughter.  He ran to her side and they held each other tightly.

“It’s alright now dear, he’s gone” the Brewer soothed.

Barley’s absent stare focused into a controlled frown.

“Yes.  But he will be back.” She said.

Barley felt her father tremble.    

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