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Keira Grim
Book Two of the
Silver Scythe Chronicles
Keira Grim
Book Two of the Silver Scythe Chronicles
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Keira Grim
Book Two of the
Silver Scythe Chronicles
Part 1
My Engagement
1
Mr. Dunningham's House Before the Riot
My nightly, horrific dream had just gotten to the worst part when my father shook me awake.
"You need to get dressed," he said, gently brushing the hair from my face. I looked into his warm charcoal eyes, wondering why he was waking me up so early. "Mr. Dunningham is sending a car to take you to his estate."
Was I still dreaming? What would the Lord of Death would want with little old insignificant me? I tried to think of what I could have possibly done that warranted a reprimand, then decided there was nothing. I wasn't the type to get in trouble, and even if I had broken a rule, Dunningham would have come to our home to admonish me, not summoned me to his grand mansion in the Upper Estates.
Not that our home was anything to sneeze at. We had a beautiful two-story home in Farrington, the middle-class section in the colony of Nowhere.
Dad quickly set my mind at ease. "Mr. Dunningham has invited you and Chase to visit with Naomi for a little while."
I sat up and yawned. "Why would he do that?"
Dad shrugged. "Not sure, but don't question the hand giving you a gift."
I found it strange that Dunningham would make such an offer. Just a few days prior Naomi had been sentenced to death. The execution had been interrupted. Dunningham had called off the execution, and now he was allowing her friends to visit. We were Grims. Naomi had interrupted death, the worst thing a Grim could do. Dunningham should have been furious with Naomi.
Something was off about all of this, but I appreciated the chance to see my best friend. I had to know that Naomi was okay.
"Do I at least have time to eat breakfast?" The aroma of my mother's famous pancakes wafted up to my bedroom.
Dad shook his head. "Afraid not. Grab a piece of fruit to eat on the way." He left my bedroom, leaving me to figure out what one was supposed to wear to Dunningham's mansion.
My fingers ran along the smooth skin of the banana I had grabbed from my kitchen, but I didn't feel like eating it. Chase and I had been silent during the ride. I knew he had to be just as happy to see Naomi as I was. The three of us had been best friends since we were toddlers. However, Naomi and I did have some experiences that only the two of us shared. There were just some things you couldn't discuss with boys. Chase never acted as if he felt left out. He'd just leave us alone to have our "fluffy, frilly , girl time , " as he called it.
I watched Chase, trying to gauge his mood. His smooth baby face and sooty features gave me no clue how he was feeling. When he caught me watching him, he shot me a smile, revealing his famous dimples.
If things hadn't worked out the way they had, he and Naomi would probably have gotten engaged and married when they turned eighteen. As far as arranged marriages went, it could have been a lot worse. At least they knew they would be with someone they liked and cared about. I had no idea who m my parents would choose for me.
"I had another nightmare," I admitted quietly.
Chase lowered his brown in concern. "Yeah? About Nay?"
I nodded. My nightmares had always been about Naomi. She was like a sister to me and the image of her standing on that platform with a noose around her neck would always be etched in my mind. Part of me was angry with her because I had tried so hard to warn her about going against the Covenant, but she'd refused to listen and almost gotten herself killed. I wished none of it had happened and the three of us were still hanging out at Brickman's like old times.
"Just try not to think about it," Chase said. That was the only advice he'd ever offered about getting over my nightmares. It was terrible advice. If I could just not think about it, I would have done it already.
I sighed and stared out of the window. Things had always been so simple in Nowhere, but now everything seemed so complicated. Rather than just focusing on collecting lives and my Grim studies, I now had to deal with my best friend being thrown in prison and almost executed, in addition to worrying about my impending engagement to who m ever my parents chose. I'd be turning seventeen in a few days and it was time for them to make that decision.
I leaned in closer to Chase as I admired the identical mansions along the streets of the Upper Estates. Nowhere was made up of three cities—Litropolis, Farrington, and the Upper Estates. There were no mansions in Farrington, the city where the middle class lived, and neither of us had ever set foot in the Upper Estates before. We weren't Mr. Dunningham's chosen and favored Grims. "Why do you think Dunn's doing this?" I whispered so the driver wouldn't hear.
"Who knows?" Chase answered, not bothering to whisper. "But you better believe it has to have some kind of benefit to him. I've given up trying to figure things out. I just go with the flow."
How could Dunningham possibly benefit from Chase and I visiting his home? But Chase was right, there was no point in trying to figure it out. I was happy I was getting to see my friend.
We stopped at a wrought-iron gate that separated the world from the most spectacular house I'd ever seen. After a few seconds, the gates opened slowly. The car pulled onto the circular driveway that would lead us to Dunningham's luxurious abode.
"So this is what all the fuss is about?" Chase rolled his eyes, trying to seem unimpressed.
For a moment we silently took in the phenomenal presence of the home, which reminded me of a castle. We rounded the driveway and stopped at the home's entrance. A man wearing a three-piece suit waited on the top step and another wearing an identical suit waited at the bottom. The second the car came to a stop, he opened the door on my side of the car.
"Welcome to Mr. Dunningham's estate," he said politely.
"Uh, thanks," I replied as I slid out. Chase said nothing. I glanced at him , and he rolled his eyes again.
The other man opened the heavy metal door of the house as we approached.
"Welcome to Mr. Dunningham's estate, Mr. Chase and Ms. Keira."
Chase and I flashed each other apprehensive looks as we approached the door. I had no idea what to expect. What if this was some kind of trap? Dunningham could be a very cruel man when he wanted to be.
"L-ladies first," Chase said.
"No. You go first. Please," I insisted. The man at the door looked at us strangely.
Chase took a deep breath before stepping inside.
The inside of the home was more breathtaking than the outside. Marble tile, tall columns, modern furniture, expensive-looking fabrics draped everywhere—I'd never seen anything like it, not even in the human world.
Mr. Dunningham sat on one of the sofas of his sitting room, looking at his electronic tablet. "Good morning, young Grims." He motioned toward the seats in front of him. "Please, have a seat. We will fetch Naomi."
Chase and I shuffled over to the loveseat Mr. Dunningham had indicated. I sat and tried not to stare at him. He had a distinctive look about him, tall and thin. Dunningham was pale like many other Grims. He was completely bald with a small gray mustache and matching goatee. Grims didn't usually gray until we were close to expiration, but Dunningham had been around forever.
The only thing missing was his signature black fedora that he always wore when he was out. Even then, in his home, he wore a lavish three-piece suit with perfectly polished black shoes. He made me feel like a pauper in my black jeans and hoodie. I told myself to relax, but my body was still stiff and rigid.
"Your home is spectacular," I said, still taking in the beauty of the place. Chase fiddled with his thumbs next to me. I nudged him in the side.
"Yeah, it's really nice." Chase was never one for making small talk.
"Thank you," Dunningham said. He was about to say something else when Naomi appeared. She had come down the hallway, led by another servant girl. She wore some kind of ugly smock with a crisp white apron. Her porcelain face was smudged and ashen.
Chase and I made a dash to hug her, overcome with relief. The last time we had seen Naomi, she'd been standing on the gallows with a noose around her neck. That day I'd thought I was going to lose my best friend forever.
Dunningham invited us to retreat to his backyard.
"Take all the time you need. Catch up. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about."
His pleasantness was making me more suspicious by the minute.
A butler pointed us to the French doors that would lead us outside. Chase and I followed Naomi to a ceramic bench in the center of an immaculate garden. She sat between us.
"Naomi, are you okay? I mean really okay?" I asked, taking her hand.
She gave me a small smile. "I don't know about okay, but it's definitely better than being dead."
"What does he have you doing?" Chase asked.
"Working in the kitchen. You can imagine what a disaster that is. I can't boil water."
I felt for her. Naomi had a good heart , and she deserved better than spending the rest of her life working in Dunningham's kitchen.
We had only been outside for a few moments when a woman wearing a smock like Naomi came out. I thought she was going to tell us that it was time to leave already, but she surprised me. "Ms. Keira, Mr. Dunningham would like to see you in his study."
My friends appeared to be just as puzzled as I was. Willing my legs not to tremble, I followed the woman inside. She led me to his study where Dunningham sat in a comfortable-looking armchair, drinking something from a mug.
"Have a seat," he said. I took a seat in another armchair clear on the other side of the room, although there was one sitting next to him.
I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He continued to sip whatever was in his mug while he stared at me. What did he want? Did he want to question me about Naomi? I wouldn't incriminate my best friend.
I'd never been alone with Dunningham before. I had no idea how to carry on a conversation with him. My father had always been good at things like that. What would he say? Think of something, Keira.
"Umm, thank you for letting us visit Naomi. It was very nice of you."
Dunningham chuckled and put his mug down on the small table beside his chair. "I have to admit my reasons for that are a little selfish." He licked his lips and a lump formed in my throat.
"Oh." I didn't know what he meant by that , and I wasn't sure how to ask so I said nothing else.
"Keira, let me show you something," he said, crossing the room to his book-lined wall. He pulled a ridiculously thick book with a golden cover from the shelf and held it up. "Have you ever read this book?"
I'd never even seen a book that big before. "No, I can't say I have, Mr. Dunningham." Was this what he wanted? To test me to see if I had been keeping up with my studies?
"It's called Death and All Its Benefits. It's a splendid book. My favorite , really." He opened the book to a section in the middle and walked toward me. My body tensed as he moved to stand behind me. He placed the book in my lap. His cold hands grazed my thighs , and I felt incredibly uncomfortable. "This is my favorite part of the book."
I looked at the yellowed, tattered pages. The illustration showed a man in a loincloth leaning over a dead body. The man held a long hook.
Dunningham rested his hands on my shoulders. My instincts told me to stand up and remove myself from this situation. The Grim Covenant strictly forbade touching of any kind between the opposite sex unless they were married. Dunningham was our ruler. He knew that better than anyone, so what was he thinking? I sat frozen, not knowing what to do.
"Have you ever studied the techniques of mummification?" His hands were gently squeezing my shoulders.
"No, not really."
"See that hook? They use it to smash the brain , and then they pull the brain out through the nose. . "
Ew. "Oh," I said. Why was he telling me this?
"What do you think about that?" he asked.
What was I supposed to think? "I think it's disgusting and disrespectful to the death process."
"Really?" Dunningham took his hand off my right shoulder and pulled my hair away from the side of my neck. I shuddered when he touched my neck with his cold, scaly hand.
I shot from my seat feeling like I'd just been groped by a reptile. I didn't care who he was. This was wrong and it was stopping. "I have to go."
"Wait," he called after me, but I was already out of the door.
I rushed back outside to Chase and Naomi. They were deep in conversation. "Chase, let's go now." They both looked confused. I couldn't explain , and I would never tell anyone what had happened. "Now!" Then I headed to the front door.
"Keira!" Naomi called after me, but I couldn't stop. I had to get out of that house.
Outside, I flung the door to the car open myself without waiting for anyone to do it. Chase slid in beside me. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," I answered. "I just want to leave."
Chase's dark eyes searched my face for a hint. "Keira, clearly something happened. Tell me."
There wasn't much I kept from Chase, but I couldn't tell him this. He wasn't like most Grims. He didn't care about Dunningham's status. He would go back into the house angry , and who knew what would happen?
"Chase, it's nothing. Please, just drop it."
He stared for me a moment longer. "You're lying. Whatever happened, you should tell me."
I sat forward in the seat and closed my eyes. "Nothing happened. Please stop talking."
He huffed, but said nothing else.
The ride home seemed much longer than the ride coming. The strain of a secret lingered in the air between us.
When the car pulled in front of my house, I barely waited for it to stop. I leapt out muttering a quick goodbye to Chase, which he didn't return. I knew he was angry with me, but telling him what had happened would serve no purpose.
I dashed past my mother, who sat on the living room couch reading something with my younger brother, Josh.
"Keir, how was it?" she asked as I ascended our carpeted steps two at a time.
"Fine, Mom. I can't talk now. Have to catch up on my studies." I slammed my bedroom door shut and hoped she didn't follow me.
Feeling violated, I threw off my hoodie , since Dunningham had touched it. I lay on my bed and kicked off my boots. After getting somewhat comfortable, I cracked open a book, reading the same page over and over since I was unable to focus.
An hour later my dispatching device went off. I unhooked the gadget, which looked like a small black cell phone, from my belt. I was being dispatched to collect a lifestone in Memphis, Tennessee. Of course Dunningham would want to get rid of me. If I wasn't in Nowhere, I couldn't tell anyone about our "talk" in his study.
I skipped kissing my family goodbye because I didn't want their questions. After scribbling a quick note and leaving it on my bed, I grabbed my scythe from where it hung on the hook on my bedroom wall. I didn't really need it—the scythe charm I wore around my neck possessed the same powers—but I took my regular scythe out of habit. I needed to feel it in my hands. I slid on my boots, pulled my black hoodie over my tank top, and stepped into my bathroom shower , which doubled as the transportation chamber. Closing my eyes, I waited to be
taken away.
2
I knew most humans didn't want to die, but I couldn't help but think that sometimes they brought death on themselves.
The blistery, summer day made me uncomfortable. Grims hated heat. Where we lived, in Nowhere, there was a constant chill in the air. Thankfully Fortunately, my scythe helped to regulate my body temperature so I wouldn't overheat.
I stood off the side of a low cliff , watching a group of five teenage boys swinging from one cliff to another on a rope. A shallow creek lay between the banks. I studied the rope wrapped around the long, thick branch that stretched over the creek. Although the branch appeared to be sturdy, if I were a human, I wouldn't wager my life on it.
I watched from a few feet away, in Grim-mode, invisible to humans. I already knew which boy was to die. A scrawny boy with short-cropped, white-blond hair: fifteen-year-old Rory. After I collected his lifestone, I would have fifteen years added to my own life, giving me a grand total of five hundred and two years. Young lives didn't earn Grims many years, but they earned us more money when we turned them into Dunningham. An older life would give us more years, but less money. I hoped to collect many more years than that further down the line. Good Grims never died—we lived forever.
A dark-haired boy swung across successfully. He made it look effortless as he landed on the other cliff. He swung the rope back to the others waiting on the other side. "Come on!"
A kid with dirty blond hair that came down to his shoulders grabbed the rope next. He hesitated for a moment. I would be afraid too if I were in his place. The other boys yelled things to egg him on until he finally took his swing. He hoisted himself up, wrapping his legs around the rope. A boy with a shaved head wearing a red shirt pushed him before he was ready. The boy let out a high-pitched scream while the others laughed.
Mid-swing , something happened , and the boy let go of the rope. Everyone, including myself, gasped as he dropped swiftly toward the water beneath him, screaming and arms flailing.
Keira Grim: The Final Breath Chronicles Book Two Page 1