CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I have no idea why, but I get along pretty well with grim reapers. Our worldviews jibe.
I’m just a lowly necromancer trying to help people. Reapers believe they are helping people too.
The evil, cloaked grim reaper you see on TV—well, that’s the guy who shows up if you try to cheat death. Otherwise, they’re regular people who just happen to have pale skin and deathly features. They carry sickles, but they’re not assholes. They really do try to help you and comfort you at the moment of your death as they escort you to the spirit world.
Mix a funeral home director with a therapist, and you can get a sense of the type of conversation they have with the dead. They know just what to say, just when to say it.
They’re also efficient—they will comfort you while taking the
