The Undertaking of Hart and Mercy

“Bold-colored paintings of the death gods—the Salt Sea, the Warden, and Grandfather Bones—decorated the walls in gold frames. Two green velvet armchairs sat in front of a walnut coffee table, their whimsical lines imbuing the room with an upbeat charm. […] This was not the somber, staid lobby of a respectable place like Cunningham’s Funeral Services. This was the appalling warmth of an undertaker who welcomes other people’s deaths with open arms.”

The opening scene of Chapter 1 establishes Hart’s point of view and conveys his instinctive biases against the décor at Birdsall & Son. The passage also provides important world-building details, implicitly conveying aspects of the religion and death rites that permeate this particular culture. Hart also expresses his disdain for undertakers in general and Mercy in particular, and as he criticizes her cheerful outlook, this information sets the stage for the enemies-to-lovers trope that dominates the plot.

“Mercy wondered if her brother understood that he had pulled the rug out from underneath her. She’d worked her tail off for thirteen years to help Pop keep Birdsall & Son up and running for Zeddie’s benefit, and now he was about to smash it to smithereens. She wanted to say, What about me? But what right did she have to guilt Zeddie into a job—a vocation, really—that made him miserable?”

Mercy’s reflection on her and Zeddie’s respective roles in the family business highlights her sense of obligation to act as the family caregiver, even at her own expense. It is also clear that although her father considers her to be a mere placeholder for Zeddie, she genuinely loves her work as an undertaker and resents Zeddie’s choices.

“[A] soul floated past Duckers, the eerie rod of amber light drifting over the pink hillocks of Tanria like a wind-blown dandelion seed. Not that anyone but Hart could see it, and not that anyone knew that Hart could—no one who was alive, at any rate. In the days when he and Alma were partners, he had been tempted to tell her that he could see the souls of the departed—his demigod gift—but then he’d remembered what happened to Bill and he’d kept his mouth shut.”

In this scene, the interactions between Hart and Duckers provide necessary exposition that outlines the rules governing Bannen’s fantasy world. By emphasizing Hart’s unique sensitivity and perceptions, Bannen also sets the protagonist apart. Already a lonely character, Hart is isolated even further by his compulsion not to reveal the full breadth of what he sees.