Early to Death, Early to Rise

by Kim Harrison

  “You’re the rising light timekeeper?” she asked, her face shadowy but her tone clear. “You’re hardly old enough.”

  I winced in sympathy as he clenched his jaw and held out his hand. “Just give me my sword, okay?” His accent was clearly Midwest American, despite his odd clothes—the same billowy shirt and pants I’d seen through Ron’s eyes earlier today—which had a martial-arts kind of a look. Leave it to Ron to make him wear funny clothes.

  Nakita’s chin lifted, and she took a firmer stance. “Why? You were spying on us!”

  “Because giving him his sword back is the decent thing to do,” I said, wondering how much of Nakita’s and my conversation he’d been privy to. Great. I really needed Ron to know Nakita was worried about my betraying her.

  Sandy finally shut her yap, and I sidled up alongside Nakita. It was nice to feel in control for once, and I stared right back at him as he ran his attention up and down me once. “Go to hell,” he said simply.

  Oooh, nice. “New plan. Don’t give him his sword,” I said, and he retreated into the shadow of the garage and closer to Sandy. The friendly dog began to dig at the fence.

  “See? He’s rude,” Nakita said as she handed me his sword and Paul stiffened.

  Paul’s sword felt heavy in my grip, kind of tingly, but I knew better than to swing it and tell him I didn’t know how to use it. I’d never seen such a pretty stone, though, the green gleam in the hilt matching his amulet perfectly, flecks of gold running through it like a cat’s eye.

  The guy pulled himself together, clearly not liking my holding it. “I’m not the one killing people for choices they make and deeds they haven’t done yet.”

  “Who, me or her?” Nakita asked.

  I shot a look at the open window in my room. “Will you keep it down? My dad’s inside,” I said, but neither of them was listening. Paul’s eyes were still on his sword. Oh, yeah. He wanted it badly. “Where’s Ron?” I asked him with a sudden thought, and his face lost its expression. It was dark, but I could still see his face in the faint light from the front porch. The sound of rain grew heavier, and a light mist started to hiss through the leaves, reaching us.

  Beside me, Nakita made a small noise of pleasure. “He fears,” she said, lifting the point of her sword, and he took another step back toward the fence. “I know fear. I know it better than any reaper ever having taken wing. Chronos doesn’t know you’re here, and you’re afraid.” She looked at me, lips quirking. “He reminds me of you. Impulsive.”

  Gee, thanks, I thought, and Ron’s apprentice stiffened.

  “I’m nothing like you!” he claimed, then sent his gaze skyward to the sound of wings.

  It was Barnabas—Grace, too—and my shoulders eased. The scent of sunflowers suddenly filled the heavy air. A flash of light lit the night, and a crack of thunder rolled over us. Lightning. Yeah, that would finish this off nicely.

  “We’re good! It’s okay!” I said as loudly as I dared, glancing at the bright square of my second-story window. The last thing I needed was another scythe pulled.

  Grace made three circles around Nakita and me before darting up into the tree. Paul never looked at her. Curious…

  Nakita tightened her grip on her sword as Barnabas landed in the street. His wings vanished, and looking like himself in a faded tee, jeans, and the gray duster he sometimes wore, he ambled casually across the grass. Sandy’s complaints grew loud, her tail brushing the ground like mad and making Paul shift uneasily.

  “I know who you are,” Paul said to Barnabas, backing up to the fence until the dog jumped at him to make the chain link rattle. “You’ve gone grim. Filthy turncoat. You’re worse even than them.”

  “He’s rude!” Grace said. “That’s why I made him fall off the roof, to make a big ‘oof’!”

  I knew Paul’s accusation bothered Barnabas, but he seemed unaffected, his pace never faltering as he came even with us…and then continued forward. Paul paled. Looking scared, he backed up along the fence, but Barnabas was after the dog, who cheerfully licked him when he murmured a soft greeting to her and pushed his fingers through the chain link.

  “Well, well, well,” he said lightly as he dried his fingers on his shirt and reached for the unfamiliar sword in my grip. A tingle went through me as he took it, and I shivered. “Look who slipped his leash,” he added, studying the green jewel. “You’re Ron’s replacement, aren’t you? Rising timekeeper?”

  Paul stubbornly didn’t say anything, but it was obvious he was.

  “I told you he was,” Grace blurted gleefully. “The seraphs saw him leave and sent me to watch him. I was not spying on Madison. I knew Madison would be okay with Nakita.” The angel flew circles around me. “Really, Madison. I wasn’t.”

  “I believe you,” I said, and I swear, her wings grew so bright Paul had to notice her. But he didn’t, his flicking gaze telling me he thought I was talking to Barnabas.

  “He fell off the roof,” Nakita said. “He’s just as reckless as Madison. It’s going to be a very difficult next hundred years until they figure out what they’re doing.”

  Paul frowned. I wasn’t so pleased about it, either.

  Grace lit up. “Oh!” she exclaimed, finally realizing that Paul had no clue she was there. “He can’t see me? Why not?” She darted down to hover before his amulet. “There once was a keeper named Ron, who had the smarts of a prawn. An amulet he made, to his student then gave, but its powers were somewhat a yawn.”

  Ron gave Paul an inferior amulet? Why am I not surprised? Nakita was laughing, and even Barnabas snickered. “How come you were on my roof?” I asked, eyes fixed on the sparkling jewel as Barnabas turned the blade so it caught the dim light from the front porch.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Barnabas said, starting to wield the sword, testing the blade’s balance with a series of rapid, intricate swings almost too fast to follow, his duster furling as he moved. I was used to the angel’s proficiency, but Paul was staring with openmouthed awe. The sword had been created by Paul’s amulet, and until he drew the energy back into the stone, his amulet would be diminished. I’d once taken control of Nakita’s amulet by seizing her sword. Paul had a right to be concerned.

  “Give me back my sword!” Paul said, and Barnabas looked him up and down as he stopped swinging. The anger in Barnabas’s eyes was new, and I didn’t like seeing it there.

  “Why were you on the dark timekeeper’s roof?” Barnabas demanded, and I realized how much it had bothered him. It bothered me, too, and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Nakita, we pinned Paul against the fence. Behind him, Sandy whined. It was starting to rain in earnest, and I swear I could smell wet feathers.

  Paul was silent, his eyes glinting in the lamplight as his chin rose. I put a hand on my hip, almost ready to let Nakita have her way, when a faint voice from inside shouted, “Madison?”

  Crap, it was my dad. Wincing, I looked up at my bright window. It had sounded like he’d called from downstairs, but that could change really fast.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Barnabas said as he handed me Paul’s sword. It was warm in my grip, slick from the rain, and again I was struck by how wrong it felt in my grasp. After giving a warning look to Nakita for her to behave, Barnabas jogged to the front door and rang the bell.

  “Get back in the shadows,” Nakita hissed, and I shifted to stand in the narrow overhang of the garage. This was where I usually got onto the roof when sneaking back in, and I fumbled for the two dog biscuits I had on the garage windowsill, throwing one over the fence to keep Sandy occupied while my dad answered the door. Paul ducked as the dog treat went sailing over his head, the tips of his hair dripping.

  “You can’t touch me,” he said to Nakita, though he, too, looked anxious not to get caught.

  “She can outright kill you,” I said bluntly, and Grace sighed heavily. “It was a reaper blade that killed me.”

  Paul’s eyes widened, and Nakita smirked. “Didn’t know that, did you?” she whispered as my d
ad opened the front door and Barnabas said hello.

  “There once was a man with an ego,” Grace sang softly, slowly losing altitude until she landed on the filthy windowsill, “who thought that he was a big hero. Like a dark reaper, he scythed a timekeeper. But it only made him a big zero.”

  She was talking about Kairos, the timekeeper whose amulet I now had. He’d not only tried to kill me to retain the position, but he’d killed his predecessor to gain the title early.

  Paul was properly cowed, so I edged to the front of the garage to peek around the corner. A shaft of light spilled out into the dreary night, illuminating Barnabas and seeming to make him glow around the edges. I knew it was my imagination, but my dad looked pale by comparison.

  “Hi, Mr. A,” Barnabas said, sounding completely normal. “I know it’s late, but I have to take Nakita home.”

  A pang of guilt struck me, and I winced when my dad’s silhouette eclipsed the light and his rumbling voice said, “I thought she was spending the night. Come on in.”

  “She was,” Barnabas said as he wiped his feet and went inside. “But she didn’t—”

  The door shut, and I never heard the lie.

  “Gabriel’s broken feathers,” Nakita swore, glancing at the window. “Now I have to go make an appearance. Madison, will you be okay?”

  “Sure,” I said, hefting Paul’s sword. “Just don’t take too long.” I was going to give Paul his sword back as soon as she got out of sight. If he tried anything after that, Grace would keep him tripping over his own feet.

  Unaware of my plans, Nakita gave him a vehement look to behave. Slipping out past the garage roof, she jumped almost straight up, grabbing the overhang of the garage and swinging herself up like a star athlete. It was how I got up there, but I needed the trash can to do it. I was a lot less graceful, too. Getting to her feet, she brushed the grit from her jeans and made the short hop to my window. I heard, more than saw, her slip inside. Alone at last…

  “If he tries anything,” Grace said from beside me, “I’m going to sic Sandy on him.”

  I didn’t want to know how she was planning on getting Sandy past the fence. It might involve lightning. Exhaling a breath I’d probably taken two minutes ago, I looked Paul over. “Here,” I said, handing him his sword, the point down. “Sorry. Nakita is a little intense.”

  “Madison!” Grace exclaimed, turning three shades brighter, and I ignored her.

  Sure enough, Paul didn’t make the smart decision. “I won’t let you kill again!” he shouted, and I sprang away as he leaped forward, my back hitting the side of the garage. Something that felt like cold, black feathers slid through me, and I gasped.

  “Hey!” I yelled as I realized he had taken a swing at me. “What’s your problem, dude?” I exclaimed, ticked as Sandy barked furiously.

  Grace was laughing, her voice rising up out of my range of hearing as her glow wildly shifted through the spectrum. I, though, failed to see the humor.

  Paul was staring at me, his sword tight in his grip as the rain made trails down his face. “I hit you! I know I hit you!” he said, sounding betrayed. “It went right through you, and you’re okay! You really are dead!”

  “You think?” I said sharply as I tugged at my shirt to see if he’d cut it. Grace was rolling on the grass, a violent red as she laughed. “You want to be dead, too? Just keep it up, you nutcase. What the devil is wrong with you?”

  Still he stared, backing up until he hit the fence. Sandy jumped at him, and he took a distracted step forward, wet dog prints probably all over his back. “Ron said you were,” he stammered.

  “He does occasionally tell the truth.” Fortunately Paul’s sword was designed to sever souls, not cloth. My shirt was okay. “Do you have any idea how much this cost me?” I asked, relieved I wouldn’t have to explain a foot-long tear to my dad. “Just because you run around looking like Luke Skywalker doesn’t mean the rest of us want to dress in rags!”

  “Paul was a rising timekeeper, who wanted to be like a reaper. He swung his big sword, like a medieval lord, and it made him look like a creep-er.”

  “That almost makes sense, Grace,” I said, and she found the air again. She glowed softly, and a sifting of dust fell from her as she got rid of the rain dampening her wings.

  Paul’s eyes darted around when he realized I wasn’t as alone as I looked. Unsure, he was silent until our eyes met. “You’re not what I thought you’d be.”

  I shrugged, leaning back against the garage to stay out of the rain and crossing my arms over my chest until I realized it made me look vulnerable, and I put my thumbs in my pockets instead. “Ron told you I was death on roller skates?” I said, still huffy over the sword thing. “Did he tell you that he lied to me about who I was? After I was dead and everything? Did he tell you how he hid my existence from the seraphs so they couldn’t give me my body back and I couldn’t go back to living? I’m dead, Paul, and it sucks.”

  Paul dropped his eyes. Grace, too, was silent, probably remembering her part in all of it. Ron had used her as well. A soft roll of thunder came distantly, and the streetlight shone on Paul’s wet hair. It looked black now, but when I’d seen him in the desert, it had been brown.

  “I didn’t want to be the dark timekeeper,” I said, and his lips pressed together as if he didn’t believe me. “I still don’t. I could have gotten my body back right then and given this thing up.” I showed him my amulet, wanting him to see how much older mine looked than his. I might not know how to use it, but it was a lot more powerful than the one Ron had made him. “But Ron didn’t tell anyone, and by the time the truth came out, Kairos had died and it was too late. Ron told you about him, right?”

  “The old timekeeper,” Paul said. “You killed him?”

  “What part of not being a murderer doesn’t he get here?” Grace muttered, and I felt a wash of warmth fill me as she landed on my shoulder.

  “No,” I said. “Nakita scythed him when she found out that he had lied to her and that I was his replacement. She didn’t like that he was trying to go against seraph will by killing me. You know what it’s like to have someone trying to kill you?”

  I pushed myself forward from the wall of the garage, and he took a half step back. “No.”

  “It happens to me all the time.”

  Paul looked at his sword, and Grace took off from my shoulder. For an instant, the sword glowed its entire length. Then it was gone and his hand was empty. A glitter of gold swam in the depths of his amulet, and then that, too, went dark and quiescent. It was just a flat black stone.

  “Why did you come here?” I asked, feeling almost depressed. This guy hated me, and he didn’t even know me.

  Paul looked to the street, then to me. “Ron said you claimed you were trying to save someone. But it’s your job to send reapers to end lives early. I wanted to see for myself.”

  He hadn’t believed Ron. More curious.

  Grace’s wings blurred into existence, and she whispered, “I told you I wasn’t spying on you. The seraphs fated him to meet you tonight, and I was sent to make sure you both survived.”

  Oh, really? That was…disturbing. Filing that away, I straightened. “And?” I asked.

  Behind him, Sandy quietly sat in the rain, her tail getting muddier as she waved it in the dirt. “Well, you are the dark timekeeper,” he said sullenly.

  “Being dark does not mean bad,” I said hotly. “Light is for human choice, easily seen. Dark is for hidden seraph fate, no choice to glean.” I took a slow breath. He could leave now if he wanted to—the fact that he hadn’t said a lot. Or maybe it just meant he wanted something. “My name is Madison,” I said in case Ron hadn’t told him.

  He hesitated, then cautiously said, “I’m Paul.”

  “And I’m Grace. Put a smile on your face. For the whole human race. Get off Madison’s case. There’s got to be a poem in there somewhere,” Grace muttered, rising up and away.

  I felt alone. Paul looked silly standing there in the rain, his
hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his hem. “Do me a favor, Paul,” I said. “Tell Ron I want him to back off. I’m trying to save this guy. Ron’s butting in is what will trip Nakita into…ah, doing her thing,” I finished, not wanting to say “killing him.” “Whether you think so or not, I believe in choice as much as you do.”

  Paul laughed bitterly. “Choice? Dark timekeepers don’t believe in choice.”

  “Yes, I know,” I moaned. “But there it is, okay? I’m trying to find a way to do my job in a way that doesn’t go against all I believe in. Give me a break, will you?” I was getting frustrated, and the more agitated I got, the more confident he became—even soaking wet and standing in the rain.

  Water slipping down his neck, he said, “Why not just tell me who the mark is, and we can put a guardian angel on him?”

  I thought back to Nakita’s words not an hour ago, and felt ill. If I had promised her not to, would I have said yes now? “Is that your answer?” I said, wishing Barnabas would hurry up. “Put a guardian angel on him? Can you think any more short-term? Besides, the guy is slime, Paul. He is going to cause a lot of pain and heartache for kicks unless something happens to change his path.”

  “Then you’ve flashed forward,” he said softly.

  “No,” I said, not liking to admit that I wasn’t capable of doing real timekeeper stuff. “The seraphs told me.”

  “And you believe them.” His expression was ugly, as if the seraphs were the bad guys.

  “They have no reason to lie.”

  Paul, though, had stopped listening. The squeak of my front door opening sparked through me, and I tossed Sandy the last dog bone. “I’m trying to talk to him,” I said as Barnabas and Nakita came out arguing. “If I can help this guy change his life, then fate might not dictate that it be ended. That’s it. That’s all I’m doing. Now, will you get Ron to back off and let me make a real try of it? Soon as a light reaper or black wings show, I’m going to have a hard time keeping Nakita from—”

  “Killing him,” Paul finished for me, his eyes hard. “Everyone has a right to make a choice, wrong or not.”