The Fallen

by Ali Winters

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Of course, my lord.”

  Nivian stiffened at the look that crossed his face. She had done something wrong just then. But what? She addressed him as she’d seen others do, yet, somehow in doing so, she’d managed to displease him. But the look passed quickly and he was speaking again.

  “I have a mark for you. I know it is rather soon after your last one, however, I believe you will not have an issue.” He spoke of such ordinary things, yet the way he looked at her made her feel as though there was far more to his words than she understood.

  Something deep and personal passed between them, though, what, she couldn’t put to words. Camira had said there was something between the two of them. Yet, the little she saw seemed to speak otherwise. He never seemed to linger on her friend for too long, he’d certainly never looked at Camira the way she’d hinted at. It was entirely possible her friend misunderstood. If he looked at Camira the way he was looking at her now, then she could see how her friend might misinterpret things.

  But it wasn’t her place to get involved. Whatever Camira and Caspian had was between the two of them, and them alone. That was a personal matter, and one they were entitled to keep as such.

  Nivian pushed the thoughts away.

  “I am ready,” she said.

  Caspian nodded once in approval then left her long enough to pick up a piece of parchment from his desk before returning to her. The space between them was even less this time.

  “You have done well so far,” he said. “I am quite impressed with your ability to start off as a Silencer. I believe you are one of the most powerful Reapers who has passed through these halls in a long time. I hope to work closely with you for the foreseeable future, so we might continue to explore the extent of your powers.”

  Nivian sucked in a breath and held it for a long moment. That could not be the norm. It was intimidating to have so much pressure heaped upon her shoulders, and, yet, it was beyond flattering and it filled her with pride.

  Caspian’s hand reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, pausing in mid motion. Then he let his hand fall away without a word. The gesture felt familiar to her, it seemed as though it were a habit he’d had for a while.

  But no, that couldn’t be right. She was no one to him, only another Reaper among thousands. Newly created at that. Nivian cleared her mind of the uncertainties and questions she had about his ability to make her feel like she was the only other Reaper in existence.

  Caspian held out the parchment with the mark. Nivian looked at it, at the name scrawled across it, and held it before her, not taking her eyes from it.

  She still had so much to learn, but she’d been promoted shortly after her creation, before she had even been assigned her first mark.

  There were a lot of expectations she had to live up to. Nivian vowed then and there that she would not let Caspian or Silas down. She would not only meet their expectations they set out for her, but she would surpass them and become the best Reaper they had ever seen.

  As she made her way out the door, Caspian’s voice halted her.

  “One last thing before you go, Silas would like to have a word with you.”

  SILAS

  The room seemed to echo from the silence after spending so long in the presence of every Reaper who still existed.

  Silas was worn and exhausted. He leaned back against the wall, his shoulders slumped. A chill seemed to press in on him, one he could not shake, one that permeated his heart and the marrow of his bones.

  He waved his hands and locked the doors from the inside, then faced the vast, empty room. He wanted nothing more than to fade from this world. Silas rubbed the area of his chest over his heart. Gaia, save him, if he didn’t know better, he could have sworn his heart would be crushed under the weight of his betrayal. But she had betrayed him too.

  Silas shook his head. Nothing he said or did could justify his actions. Nothing could justify hers. The only comfort he allowed himself was the knowledge that he had done as the Moirai had commanded him, that by placing Yeva in that sleep, he had ensured there would no longer be a threat to the balance. Though none of that eased the pain in his heart.

  For the first time, doubt seemed to sweep through him. He had acted rashly, but he had seen no other alternative than the path he’d taken. No other way to nullify her desire for more power than either of them should ever hold. They had already been born with far more power than was safe for the balance.

  Gaia had always seemed infallible in his mind, but after everything, it seemed he was wrong. Mistakes had been made from the very beginning.

  The question of Yeva’s actions still remained unanswered. He could understand the hurt she should have rightly felt from what he’d done, but her lust for power had been far beyond the capabilities of the gentle heart he’d come to love. Could it be that he had never truly known her?

  Silas took stock of the ceremonial room. Other than occasional meetings, it was hardly ever in use. Now it would be his space.

  He gathered his remaining power to him and lifted a hand to the ceiling. A curl of black power rose from his palm, curling toward the highest point.

  Black crystals sprouted and lengthened, lowering down from the center and growing to form a large chandelier. As the crystals formed, their soft sound filled the space. Silas pushed his powered into it until the long shards formed sharp points and radiated darkness.

  He wanted to shut out the light, to keep all warmth from touching him. It would keep the memories of her fresh in his mind. To be reminded of her constantly would make him weak. Already, he contemplated going to the mountain sanctuary he’d created and waking her.

  Silas panted. Only a few more things left to do and then he would rest and rebuild his strength. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a humorless expression.

  It seemed that there was always one more thing.

  He lowered his arm and clenched his fist. A thick stone grew from the center of the room, directly below the chandelier. The rock took form, as if invisible hands sculpted it into a rough-hewn throne.

  Spent, with little more power remaining than was required to keep him from destroying himself, Silas crossed the room and sat, slumping down upon the throne. He hung his head, resting his forearms atop his thighs and let his hands hang limply between his knees as he waited.

  He was thankful what he had to do next would not cost him much. He’d realized after the last Reapling had passed through these doors that he would need one last session with Nivian.

  What she’d done during the fight should have been impossible. She’d demonstrated a strength only second to his. She was far more powerful than even Caspian. Withstanding that blow from Kain, then, even in her weakened state, still having the ability to alter his powers, she had saved them all when most would have been destroyed. Caspian would have been destroyed. Hell, he would have been drained to near nothingness.

  But he couldn’t have Nivian walking around with such power. She must not be found, she would need to blend in, need to be nothing more than an ordinary Reaper.

  So he would lock her powers down, contain them, only to be brought forth when the world needed them.

  It never should have been like this, he thought. The war, Nivian, and even Kain. Least of all, Yeva, and what they had shared from their creation until now. Their love should have been forbidden, should have been made impossible. It had only led to comparisons, to misunderstandings, to hurt and pain. Gaia was reckless in allowing it to happen.

  Silas made a vow to spend the majority of his time in that room. It was a prison, empty and cold and void of all he had come to cherish. It was only fitting to lock himself away in such a place as he had Yeva. After all, what right did he have to be free when she would never be free again?

  Caspian would bring him the life forces of the reaped marks to deal with and send back to Gaia for renewal.

  He would make the prison permanent were it not for the nagging feeling that
he wanted to ensure he would be available should the world need him for any reason. Silas barked a laugh, scoffing at the idea of the world needing him at all.

  It was better off without him and Yeva interfering with it. At least now it would stand a chance.

  Then there was the matter of the Watchers who remained. He had thought his dealings with them done, but as he let himself sink down into the hard, unforgiving throne, it occurred to him that they may never stop. Even with Yeva locked away, even with their powers diminished to practically nothing.

  Silas gripped the arms of the throne, his fingers digging into the stone, nearly cracking it from the force of the pressure. The balance would never be in jeopardy again. He would make sure of it.

  Only one thing mattered: The balance must be maintained at all costs.

  Then came a soft knock at the door and he stood, waving his hand to unlock it. In strode a single Reaper. Her long hair the color of moonlight, flowing down the back of her cloak, and her piercing ice blue eyes pinning him to the spot.

  FINN

  FINN STOOD AT the edge of the village, head down and fists clenched at his sides. A muscle in his jaw ticked. They had been well and truly beaten. He knew he should be grateful that they were able to walk out alive. When he’d come to, the Reapers had already vanished, not having destroyed them.

  Several Hunters walked past him, a few groaned, but most were as silent as death. Some moved on their own accord while others needed the assistance of another. All were injured to some degree. Everyone was drained, he could see it in their faces—the weakness he felt. The helplessness.

  Everything had changed in that forest. And he was sure it would still be a while yet before they found out exactly how much.

  Something about going home felt wrong because it didn’t feel like home anymore. It was just a place to sleep at night in comfort. Everyone he cared about was gone. Finn laughed humorlessly to himself under his breath. He had thought himself a loner before. Now, he really was alone. Sure, there were others, but it wasn’t the same. He had been close to so few.

  Yeva said Silas had taken Nivian. If she’d been reaped, then where was her body? Where had she died? Same with the rest of her family unit. Something about their disappearances didn’t sit right with him.

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, but he didn’t look up.

  “Do what you need to do,” Holter said, seemingly to read his thoughts. “You will not be judged. Nivian and her family are important to all of us. We would all like to see their safe return.”

  That was not what he was expecting. Finn looked to Holter and met his gaze. “Something feels wrong. Yeva said Silas took Nivian and turned her against us, but I could have sworn I saw her during the fight—I know… I know.” He held up his hands, well aware of what he was saying. “It’s impossible, but I know she would never fight against us like that.”

  Holter considered his words for a moment. “I didn’t see her, but there was too much happening to keep track of anyone else.” He squeezed Finn’s shoulder. “Go, look for the answers you need until you can ease your mind. I am sorry none of us will be able to assist you. We must start the search for Yeva as soon as possible.”

  Finn straightened his spine, a little more at ease now that he had his friend’s blessing. With Kain gone, after destroying himself, and Silas having taken Yeva to only Gaia knew where, Holter was the most senior of them.

  “I understand.”

  There had to be some clue somewhere in the area, at the very least, and that’s where he would start.

  Finn turned and walked away, heading for the edge of the village near the river, then beyond to the winding road that led back toward the forest.

  “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Holter called after him.

  Finn paused but did not turn, waiting until Holter left before continuing forward.

  The outer edge of the forest was unchanged from what he’d always known, but the further in he went, the darker the trees became. Burned husks of what they used to be. A graveyard for those who had fallen. Everything the Reapers touched ended up in ruins. It wasn’t just the natural order of death they brought, but destruction.

  Everything had a sinister air about it, all trace of the living haven it used to be had been wiped away by their dark powers. Yeva had been right to draw the Reapers away from the mortals and into an area they had more control over. Angry fissures ran along the ground, spreading in all directions. The balance had taken a hit. And only thanks to Kain’s sacrifice had it been righted.

  At least, for the time being.

  Finn stopped in the copse where Kain had fallen and surveyed the area.

  He would never forgive the Reapers for starting this war between them. For taking everyone he cared about away.

  Yeva had been right. The Reapers needed to be stopped, and he wouldn’t quit until he found the ones responsible for Kain and Nivian’s deaths. He would destroy them.

  Finn knelt down and brushed his hand over the only patch of green grass that remained. “I will not stop until I’ve avenged you, my brother,” he whispered.

  Then he straightened and turned back toward the river. There would be no clue in the forest, everything was damaged far worse than he’d realized at the time they had left.

  Finn double backed the way he’d come, turning near the edge of the village to the small dwelling near the river.

  Finn burst through the door of Hestia and her family’s dwelling. A layer of dust coated everything, and the fire in the hearth was cold, no embers had burned for days. Not since he’d lit the fire for Nivian.

  A feeling of dread washed over him. He angled away, wanting to run to the river, to find—

  Then he spotted Eloise’s bag. His pulse picked up speed, pounding in his head.

  The bag lay resting against the wall by the door. Untouched, still packed. They couldn’t have gone searching for Nivian. Eloise never went on any kind of trip without her bag. It didn’t matter if it was for half a day or several weeks. She was always prepared for anything.

  He took in the dwelling once more and, this time, he saw things as they were. Not as he’d expected them to be when they went on distant missions. The table was partially set, a cup on the counter near the window, which was left cracked open to the elements, and wood partially stacked near the fireplace.

  The feeling of dread grew stronger.

  Gaia. It had to be something important to pull them away, leaving everything in such a state. It was like they were interrupted in the middle of tasks that they had expected to get back to in moments.

  No note had been left, explaining their absence. Not a single clue of any kind.

  Finn ran from the dwelling, not bothering to close the door behind him.

  There was one more place to check. Finn could only hope wherever they went in such a hurry, without telling anyone, that Nivian was with them. Safe.

  His feet thudded against the dew slicked ground, skidding as he came to a stop near Nivian’s tree. He’d already looked over the area and found nothing but the matted patch of muddy grass.

  Hope and habit had made him rush. He hadn’t expected to find her there, not when she’d been missing for days. Still, the weight of disappointment pressed down on him.

  The matted growth looked strange in the pale dawn light.

  Resting his hand against the bark of the tree, he panted, trying to catch his breath and steady his nerves.

  Finally, Finn pushed away and approached the water’s edge, kneeling. He brushed a hand over the bright green blades of grass growing up between the matted and muddied ones. Outside this one patch, the rest of the grass was shorter, a darker green on the verge of turning brown from the changing season. But this looked like spring growth.

  He straightened to full height and stared out across the horizon, listening to the constant burble of the Mezzanine river.

  Finn couldn’t shake the wrongness of the disappearances. There was no sign of foul play, no d
rop of blood anywhere, yet disquiet still pooled in his gut.

  When he opened his eyes, he was drawn to the water’s depth.

  Though he couldn’t see down to the inky bottom, his gaze didn’t waver, as though he might see through the darkness and glimpse what lie hidden among the silt.

  The edge of the sun crested the horizon and flung the first rays of day out across the land.

  The hairs on the back of his neck pricked up. A flash of black from the corner of his eye snagged his attention. Finn snapped his head in the direction of the movement, expecting to see Holter, or even one other the others.

  But no one was there. Finn let out a soft, breathy laugh at his jumpy nerves. He shook his head then moved to head back to the village. He was bone weary and needed rest if he was going in search of Nivian.

  Another flash of dark and Finn spun again, moving quicker. Again, there was no one but him.

  That’s when he spotted a glittering on the surface of the bridge, the flicker of reflected light was too much to be a splash of water.

  Finn jogged to the bridge. How Nivian could run across it, he didn’t know. It was a narrow thing, and rickety. He stepped lightly, the wood dark from the beginning of rot, groaned under his weight.

  Wedged between the gap of two planks was a small silver object. He gripped the edge and wriggled until it came free.

  It was a broach of a crescent moon with the head of a howling wolf. He’d seen Nivian wearing it over the last few weeks. They were not typically prone to keeping such things, but nevertheless, he would hang on to it until he found her. Finn turned it over in his hand. Rust coated the clasp. He brushed his thumb over it and it flaked away, leaving polished metal.

  Not rust. Blood.

  Finn stood abruptly and the bridge wavered. Something had happened to her.

  The water lapped at the low bridge. Sickness coiled in his veins as he gripped the piece of jewelry in his fist.

  Once he made it to land again, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, back to the village, not slowing until he neared the center. Finn gulped down air as he walked.