by Ali Winters
Several Hunters surrounded Holter as they spoke, each with a pack strapped to their backs. Where were they going?
He reached Holter’s side as the small group disbanded and headed toward the road, away from the human city.
“Finn, you’re back sooner than I expected.” Holter clasped him on the shoulder. “Is everything all right?”
Finn could only shake his head as he held out his open palm, displaying the broach.
“I don’t understand, what is this?” Holter asked.
“I found this. It was hers.”
The older man hung his head. “You know as well as I that this is not proof of anything.
He knew that. But hearing the words aloud was a stab of pain in his chest. It wasn’t as though he’d expected Holter to jump into action and go looking for Nivian with him.
“There’s more,” Finn said after a long pause. Holter only raised a brow in question, allowing him to continue. “Nivian’s family is missing, they didn’t go looking for her. From the looks of their dwelling, they haven’t been around for days before the meeting. At least… maybe longer. It was as though they’d just vanished into thin air. They didn’t take their packs, and it looked as if they weren’t planning on going anywhere. They left in the middle of daily tasks.”
The muscles in Holter’s jaw worked as he took everything in. “Was there sign of a struggle?”
Finn opened his mouth to say yes, then stopped, realizing that wasn’t true. It had actually been the opposite. “No.”
Holter nodded once. “Then perhaps they had to leave in a hurry. They could have found Nivian, there’s a chance she might be with them now.”
“We can’t know that—”
“We cannot assume something bad has happened, especially if there is no sign of a struggle. We must assume that they are searching for Nivian, or are on their way back with her.”
“But—”
“We will find Yeva soon, and she will tell us how to proceed.”
Finn’s brows scrunched together in frustration.
Holter let out a weary sigh and clasped the other man’s hand in both of his, the broach in the center of their grasp. “We will find her, Finn. We will find them all.” Then he looked off toward the slowly rising sun as it set the sky ablaze, a smile spreading across his mouth. “We will adopt this symbol in Nivian’s honor, the crescent moon, to symbolize the beginning point and end point of life. The wolf to be the protector of mortal lives, and to hunt any Reaper who dares step out of line.”
The older man was right. They had time.
Finn smiled. “It’s perfect.”
Another small group of five Hunters walked past them, this one setting off in a different direction than the first.
“Will you be going with them?” Finn asked after a moment.
Holter returned the broach then stretched his back. “I might… eventually. But for now, there are things that still need to be done here. It will be hectic for a while yet. There will be some who need guidance, and, without Yeva or Kain, that burden falls to me. You are free to go if you wish to look for her.”
“No,” Finn said sharply. “I want to stay and fight. I don’t trust the Reapers to not come back and try to finish us off. If they come for us, they will start here.”
“If that is what you wish. Though, the Reapers have gone mad with power, and, with Yeva missing, we cannot forget our purpose.”
“Keep the balance above everything else—I know. I will not forget.”
“Good,” Holter said, giving him a single, hardy pat to the back before walking off. The weariness from the battle showed in his walk. Hell, Finn could feel it in every inch of his body.
This wasn’t the plan he’d wanted, but it was the only one that made sense with everything as it was. They had time, he reminded himself. They had all the time in the world.
FINN
TWILIGHT PAINTED THE sky a deep purple, with a band of gold along the horizon. Finn stared toward the village as he stood at the water’s edge, Nivian’s tree at his back. Its presence felt like that of an old friend. He could almost imagine turning to find her dozing beneath its branches.
Finn rested his hands on his hips and sighed. Nivian, Cora, Eloise, and Hestia had become his family unit shortly after Eli had died. While they’d all mourned him, the four of them took his loss harder than the rest.
It had only been a few seasons since he’d stepped up to fill the roll, though he tried to keep his distance, refusing to inhabit the same dwelling. He didn’t want to replace him.
Living alone was what he’d always known, it was what he was used to. But it wasn’t until Nivian disappeared that he realized how much he thought of them as family.
He pressed his hand to his chest, over his heart. The ache was strange and almost physical. One of the others he’d hardly ever talked to in the past, Karen, had caught him during the afternoon and suggested he find a new family.
But feeling this ache… No. It was not something he wanted to do again.
Besides, he couldn’t give up on them all now and pretend they’d never existed. He had to keep looking for all of them. And Yeva.
But finding Yeva had to come first. He frowned. Though he hated having to put aside anyone, he understood why it had to be done. Once they found Yeva, finding the others would be infinitely easier. Finn closed his eyes and made a vow to Gaia herself that he would not stop looking for Yeva or his family.
When he opened his eyes again, part of him deflated.
Nivian and the others hadn’t left so much as a clue behind to tell him where they’d gone. For as long as they’d been gone, Yeva would have mentioned if she’d felt their loss of power, would have mentioned if those forsaken Reapers had destroyed them.
And Silas could have taken Yeva anywhere in the world, though he took comfort in knowing that wherever it was, it had to be within the mortal realm.
A chill, icy and terrible like the sudden onset of winter, swept across the air, causing gooseflesh to race along his arms. Finn’s spine straightened as he scanned the area.
He took an involuntary step back as a Reaper appeared several yards ahead of him, hood pulled over his head to shadow his face.
The silver broach slipped from Finn’s hand and plunked down into the soft grass, unnoticed. He pulled his powers to him and sparks flickered to life in his hands. His breath came quick from trying to hold onto it, still drained from the battle the night before.
The Reaper lifted one hand but did not draw any power, then he pushed back his hood, revealing his pale face.
Finn swore. Silas. It would be Silas. The one Reaper only Yeva could best on her own.
That didn’t mean he would go down so easy. Finn pulled all of his power to him. He’d rather destroy himself trying to defeat Silas than let him reap him where he stood.
“I am only here to talk,” Silas said.
Finn scoffed. What a pathetic ruse, as if he’d let his guard down for such a lie. He thought about yelling, calling out to the others, but they were too far away, and, if by some miracle they did hear, by the time they’d get to him, Silas could destroy him and be long gone.
“I swear I will not harm you,” Silas added after a long moment.
“Lies!” Finn spat, glad that his voice did not waver.
The Reaper glided closer, cutting the distance between them in half. “Fine, then how about this: If I wanted to destroy you, I could have done so by now and left, before you even had the chance to summon your power to you. You would not have even known what happened. You’re clearly struggling, so you might as well do yourself a favor by letting go of it and listen to what I have to say.”
Silas was right and it pissed him off. There was something in the Reaper’s tone that, against his better judgment, made Finn believe him.
The power in his hands fizzled out as he relaxed his hold on it. His breath came ragged as he forced himself to breathe through his nose in an attempt to slow it. He was an idiot to trust Si
las, no matter what he promised, no matter what he said.
“What do you want, Reaper?”
Silas lifted his chin, almost as if he was proud to be referred to as such. Finn narrowed his gaze.
“I have come to make an offer of peace.”
Finn couldn’t help the outburst of laughter upon hearing the word. It had been a day, a day, since Silas sent his Reapers to slaughter them.
Silas didn’t share the amusement, nor did he argue, but kept the semblance of practiced patience on his face. “No Reaper will ever seek out another Watcher so long as you stay hidden. Live your lives as any mortal and do not interfere with the balance or any Reaper’s duty.”
He was mad to think they’d give up their purpose in life and let the Reapers have all the power. “The others won’t go for it. We won’t let you take away the purpose we were created for, to keep you lot in line.”
“Stay hidden and I swear upon my own existence that if a single Reaper steps out of line, then I will destroy them myself.”
Finn opened his mouth to argue further, but an idea sparked, giving him pause.
If the Reapers were kept docile by Silas, then they wouldn’t have to worry. They could search out Yeva without interruption. They could find her that much sooner, and by extension, Nivian and the rest of his family.
Instead, Finn asked, “What guarantee do we have? You can’t expect us to take you at your word.”
“I will remove enough of their personal will to make them incapable of disobedience and reduce their powers. I have already taken their memories of Watchers, of Yeva, and of your dissension.”
Finn opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for what to say. He’d erased so much history. Or so he claimed. But he didn’t see why this Reaper would bother lying to him, of all people.
“There is no need for any of you to live in fear. They will not know of your existence. Even as you lay dying, they will not come to reap you,” Silas continued.
Finn snorted.
“The offer I made you is more than fair. I suggest you take it before I withdraw it.” Silas’s lip curled in annoyance.
Finn sobered quickly, not wanting to push his luck any further than he already had. He was not authorized to make this decision on behalf of all the others. But there he was, forced to by the head Reaper himself.
Gaia, curse him. He wanted to agree, knew they needed that freedom to find Yeva. But Holter would have his head if he agreed to such a thing. Perhaps taking the deal would be worth the consequences.
“I told you I need a guarantee, I cannot accept your offer without one.”
Silas took a few steps closer. He was within range. If Finn pulled all his power to him and then pushed it into Silas—
It would wound the Reaper, but not destroy him. He would just seal his own fate with death.
“You know there is none I can give that you and your brethren would accept. My word is all you have.”
It was true. There was nothing he could say that would convince them, and short of keeping his word, there was no proof. And even if centuries passed them by, still he expected some part of each and every Hunter would expect another attack.
It came down to what was the lesser of two evils. Denying the Reaper would destroy him right then and there, and risk having him hunt the others down one at a time. Or convincing Holter and the others that this was the only choice, and that they could use it to their benefit.
Then when the time came, they could reclaim their powers with Yeva’s help and put these dark creatures in their place.
Damn him.
“Fine,” Finn ground out. “Then we accept.”
A smile tugged on the Reaper’s mouth.
“If you double cross us, not even Gaia herself can save you.”
Silas had the nerve to look amused.
He could think them weak if he wanted. They would regain their strength anyway they could. They would bide their time and remain hidden but ever watchful. Only time would tell if Silas could be trusted.
“No Reaper will ever touch another Watcher again, so long as the peace is kept.”
“Hunters,” Finn corrected. Then he blinked several times, only then realizing that Silas had referred to himself and his underlings as Reapers throughout the entire conversation. He cleared his throat. “We are Hunters now.”
“Fine, no Reaper will ever touch another Hunter again.” Silas amended, that arrogant smirk spreading.
Then the Reaper turned to walk away, pulling his hood back over his head.
Finn let out a relieved breath.
“Oh,” Silas said, facing him again. “Give Holter a message for me.”
Finn’s brows furrowed. He shook his head. “Holter?”
“Tell him that Aurelia is a good soul, and no one will come for her before her time. But when it is her time, I will make sure that it will be peaceful. He need not worry, she will grow old and die as any mortal.”
Finn didn’t move or speak. Who was Aurelia? And what does a mortal have to do with Holter?
But before he could form the words to ask, Silas turned away and vanished.
Finn pushed the thoughts of the mysterious woman from his mind and focused on the issue at hand.
All the power over the balance was never meant to be with the Reapers or the Hunters. Silas knew that. They all knew that.
Yet, as surely as he stood there, alive, he knew every word had been truth. Convincing the others to go along with it would be another battle in its own right. The best he could do was try to get them to go along with it and wait. Wait until they found Yeva, and Nivian, and the others.
And then, they would strike.
SILAS
Centuries later
A BROKEN WATCH.
An incomplete reaping.
Silas took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. It was more likely that Camira had been mistaken. Cared more about pleasing him, thinking it would benefit her into a promotion. She failed to see, even after all this time, that becoming a Silencer required patience and accuracy, not a thirst for status. Camira’s opinions often got in the way of her reports and finding the truth in them could, at times, be difficult.
He pressed two fingers against each temple and massaged little circles, resting his elbows on the arms of his throne. The report Camira had delivered was a jumble of facts and assumptions that he would have to weed through. Perhaps, she had not been the best choice for such a job after all. Though, her proximity to Nivian was a clear advantage.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed in the hall outside the doors. Silas dropped his hands and looked up to see Caspian stride through the doorway and shut them behind him.
He pushed up from the cold, uncomfortable, stone throne and stepped out of the shadows, meeting his Second halfway. Silas reached up and pulled back the hood of his cloak, giving his friend a sly grin.
“Are you still not letting the Reaplings see that face of yours?” Caspian asked with a laugh.
Though his expression didn’t waver, a twinge plucked at his heart, like the threadbare string of a violin snapping under the pressure of outliving its use. His shame lived on as though everything had happened yesterday. But he kept his voice light as he said, “It adds to the all-powerful image I have. I need to get my fun in somewhere. This job is still not what I would call an uplifting profession, as you well know. Besides, I rather enjoy the stories they have come up with. They are quite creative.”
He let out a throaty chuckle, making light of the feelings held deep inside. Not even Caspian knew or understood why. He didn’t need to. It was his burden alone to bear. His failure.
Caspian had not brought him a batch of reaped life forces, and with the closed doors, Silas knew this was no typical visit.
He let the humor drain from his voice. “What brings you down here, Caspian, my old friend?”
“I fear it is not good,” Caspian said. He shook his head in disappointment and let his chin droop to avoid his gaze.
&nbs
p; So Camira had been right. A muscle ticked along Silas’s jaw as memories of a time long, long ago, flashed behind his eyes. Memories from before the Watchers were Hunters, before the Dark Guardians were Reapers, and before Yeva’s lust for power had been tamed by what he had done to her.
Silas held out his hand. “Let me see it.”
His Second placed the watch in his outstretched palm and waited. He gripped it tightly in his hands, his knuckles turned white from the strain, but Silas forced himself to look at the watch and barely managed to contain the shiver that threatened to make his entire body quake.
The glass of the watch face was cracked, distorting the time displayed beneath.
The little Reapling had spoken true, without exaggeration. This had been one time he had hoped she was wrong, hoped it was all another pathetic effort to attempt to please him.
“Ah, so it is true.” Silas dropped his head. “We have lost a great Reaper today. I was afraid of that. I had felt the shock of loss, yet did not want to believe it. It has been so long since a Hunter has crossed that line.”
One day, when talking to Caspian, decades after the Dissension, Silas had made a mistake and let it slip that Hunters lived. He’d spoken quickly to cover it up, saying it was a suspicion.
Silas fought the twinge of guilt coiling deep within his gut. He had promised his friend that his memories would remain intact, yet he’d lied through his teeth. Over time, he had stolen small details from him, bits and pieces. A necessary evil from the deal he’d struck with that Hunter.
The balance—it was the only reason they had come to an understanding.
He’d debated on wiping that from his friend’s memory but just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not again. He had never forgiven himself for messing with his mind the first time, and the times that followed. For betraying the one who had been by his side, more loyal than his own heart.
It had felt good to have one less secret heaped upon his shoulders.
“I suppose we can no longer call it a rumor. A Hunter lives.” Caspian’s eyes darkened, clouding over, his face void of any expression.