by Mari Dietz
“Eat.” He gestured at the table. “I’ll shower, and if I have to run after you naked, I will, so stay put.” He glanced at her. “Or should I tie you?”
“The night air might be refreshing on your skin.” She grinned and stayed by the bathroom door.
He sucked in his cheeks, grabbed her by the arms, and pushed her onto the chair. “I have a feeling I should tie you.”
As he stood over her, his breath tickled her stray hairs around her temples.
She blushed and blinked at him, her face only inches from his. “I’ll be good.”
He trailed his hand down her arm, heating her skin. Nothing like finding your captor attractive.
Kai went into the side room again and returned with handcuffs. He bent over, took her uninjured ankle, and cuffed it to a hook in the wall.
Vic raised her brows at the hook. “Just how many women have you brought here and chained up?”
“So many I’ve lost count.” He leaned over and tested the cuffs, making sure they were locked.
Vic shifted back. “Glad I’m important.”
“Quiet, Number Forty-Three.”
"Thought you'd lost count."
He quirked his lips and went to the bathroom.
When the shower started again, Vic grabbed the spoon and shoveled the stew into her mouth. The vegetables burst on her tongue, along with generous pieces of fish. Moaning, she gulped down the best food she’d eaten in the last month. There was no time to chew. Blight and stone, he didn’t have to chain her to the wall. She would have stayed for the food. It could have tasted like the rotted skin from a mog and she still would have eaten it. Warmth spread inside her as her belly filled, and she slowed to savor the stew. When was the last time she’d had meat?
She put the spoon down. The temptation to keep eating nagged at her, but if she ate any more, it would come up again. Vic ran her fingers over the hook and tested how well it was anchored into the wall by trying to twist it. It didn’t even rattle a little. He’d joked about it, but worry filled her. Why did he need a hook in the wall?
The bathroom door banged open behind her, and she turned to see Kai wrapped in a towel. His shirtless torso was all hard lines and planes. He winked at her staring at him and went into his room. It only took a moment for him to come out dressed in the normal reaper black.
He sat across from her. “Done?”
“Yes.” Vic’s heart pounded as she waited for him to tell her what he wanted.
“Why haven’t you gone through the trials yet?”
“My parents didn’t see the need for a reaper.” Her parents expected her to marry an imb, someone who could imbue and form objects with magic, unlike her, and continue the Glass line. Imbs had built the city, and reapers protected it. Her sister, the vital, would be gone soon, and Vic was the only heir. Founders didn’t have time to run around after mogs, risking their lives.
“Yet you have an impressive relic?”
Relics like her scythe were passed down in families, unless the officers took them as punishment for committing certain crimes. The more important the family, the more relics they owned. Every member of her family had a first-generation relic. First generations were the most powerful relics and found mostly in Founder homes. A person could either bond with a scythe or a wand. The radiant rings were the exception, apparently anyone could use them if they really wanted to be the pariahs of Verrin. It didn’t matter what a person wanted to be, there was never a choice to be an imb or a reaper. Only a choice in the generation level of relic you inherited or bought. The wands hadn’t bonded Vic, so she’d taken the only scythe left to her family.
Some tried to control whether they gave birth to a reaper versus an imb, but it was always random. Both of Vic’s parents had been born imbs, but she’d turned out to be a reaper. Since she was the only heir, that was a problem for all the Glass factories. She would have to marry an imb who could manage all the Glass holdings.
“I was meant to do other things.” Her teeth clenched at the reality that her only purpose in life was to make babies. Nothing could make a woman feel more special than that. Stupid founders.
“What happens once your little rebellion is over? You go back home?” he asked.
Vic pressed her hands to the wooden table. “Excuse me, but you know nothing about me. I fought every day to become a reaper. I’m going to join an Order and stay away from my family.”
She would also get her sister away, even if she had to drag her.
“Sometimes, independence isn’t everything.” Kai gazed off, lost in thought.
She plopped back against the chair. “My life may not be great, but at least I chose it. I have the freedom to do what I want.”
Once those words had left her mouth, she realized how selfish they sounded.
His lips formed a thin line. “Noble for someone about to join a group where members depend on each other.”
Vic tugged on her damp hair. “I know … I just mean that … ugh. I want to be a reaper. This is something I want to be part of rather than have my path in life chosen for me because of the family I was born into. Or a sister forced to purify magic.”
Kai studied her as they sat in silence. He knew she was referring to Haven. The founders might be rich, but some didn’t have a choice. “Reapers can’t join Haven.”
She tapped her finger on the table. He was nice, but she shouldn't spill her life problems to him. Also, he might not see them as problems. It was considered an honor to be a vital—so the city said. A vital’s duty was to sacrifice a normal life and leave behind everyone they knew. Her heart ached at the thought of her sister.
He sighed. “I’m the second in command in the Nyx Order.”
She gaped at him. “Oh.” He was the commander of his group, but being a second, he should’ve taken her in right away.
“It’s my job to take you in. However, I think you’d add value to our Order.”
She didn’t want to hope, but it grew inside her anyway.
“You should be in the best Order. Dei resides on the outskirts of the city and is ranked third.” He tilted his head. “You might also have a chance to help someone out.” He placed a hand on the table. “If you were hoping to avoid something like Haven.”
She pressed her fingers into her thighs. One shouldn’t talk about trying to get out of being a vital.
She doubted her sister would join her, but other than throwing her over her shoulder and fleeing to the swamps outside the city, she had no other option but to use persuasion against years of indoctrination. He must have guessed her plan to support her sister financially, even though they would live in shame.
Kai side-eyed her. “Put in for Nyx when you join the trials, or I’ll turn you in and you’ll lose your relic.”
Vic shifted away.
He huffed a laugh. “That was your plan, right?" He leaned in, his eyes dancing with laughter. “You wanted Nyx all along, didn’t you?”
“Are you going to pull strings to get me in?”
Nyx only took one reaper per quarter. If he helped her, she might have a better chance of joining, but she didn’t want to get in that way.
He shook his head. “If you do your best in the trials, I won’t need to mention that you took on a mog by yourself or that you’re a Glass.”
Vic’s throat went dry. “You know?”
“Your family’s falling out is quite famous. You might want to keep your hair under a hood when you go to the trials. It might make you a target.” He casually tugged her hair. “They might gang up on you.”
He dropped the strand of hair, and her face warmed.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rumors had already spread that the Glass heirs were trying to get out of being vitals when Vic had run away from home. It didn’t matter for Vic. Reapers couldn’t be vitals. People enjoyed spreading foolish rumors no matter if they made any sense.
He put out his hand. “Deal?”
There wasn’t much choice. She clasped his hand, his ro
ugh callouses brushing her skin. “Deal.” She pointed to her chained foot. “Can you let me go now?”
“In a moment.” He stood, went into the bathroom, and came out with a medical kit. “Let me see your ankle.”
Vic lifted the leg that was chained to the wall. “You don’t have to leave me chained up for this.”
“I don’t want to take any chances.” He pulled the wooden chair next to hers.
“Power trip,” Vic huffed but lifted her injured ankle.
He gently took it and sat down. He ran his fingers along her ankle. Vic flinched as he probed. It had turned into a swollen mass that would soon form bruises.
“How did you walk on this?” He clicked his tongue and took out softly glowing white bandages from the medical kit.
“You don’t need to waste those on me.” Magic-imbued bandages were expensive, but the healing would be quicker with them.
“Just let me do this. I want you at your best next week.”
Vic crossed her arms. “Fine.”
He quickly wrapped her ankle. “I’ll take you home. You shouldn’t put any weight on this.”
“I don’t need you to.”
He shut the box. “I guess I could leave you chained until the trial.”
“You know what? I think I’ll take that help home.” He made her nervous, though an easy trust had formed between them. “Don’t you live in the Order?”
He glanced around the small room. “This is in case I need to make a deal.”
Deal? Had he tried to get others to join Nyx by chaining them up too? “Okay, then. Can you unhook me now?”
He laughed and took a key out of his pocket to unhook her. Then, before she could try to stand, he scooped her up in his arms.
“Excuse me?” Vic yelped.
Without responding, he opened the door while cradling her in one arm. Before he shut the door, he grabbed both of their folded-up scythes by their harness straps. Vic’s eyepiece was tucked inside her still-wet harness.
Vic’s face grew hot, her body pressed against his hard muscles. “This isn't necessary.”
He walked to the main canal. “Where’re we going?”
“It won’t take me long to get home on my own.”
Kai stopped. “Do I need to stand here all night holding you?” He tipped his face over hers. “Or do you like this?” He leaned in, and the overwhelming scent of cedar filled her nose, setting her skin on fire.
“Ha. I’m down in the lower district. Scrum Creek.” She wriggled in his grip.
He didn’t comment on the location but headed to a water-taxi stop. He pressed a button to summon a water taxi. In the night hours, some automated, imbued boats still took those unlucky enough to be out after dark. A water taxi floated into view.
Kai carried her onto the boat, pressed the location for Scum Creek, then placed his credits card to the reader to pay the fee.
With a slight pulse, the boat pulled away from the dock and puttered through the water toward her home.
Vic whispered, “You can put me down.”
Kai ignored her and stared at the side streets. He wasn’t wearing an eyepiece, but Vic had a feeling he was on the lookout for corrupted souls. They would have been easier to see with the imbued eyewear, but corrupted souls, even new ones, showed signs of corruption, which included black or red veins in their eyes and lack of eye contact. In the darker streets, those signs were harder to see.
She relaxed against him. Holding her couldn’t be comfortable. She’d lost a lot of weight since leaving her parents’ house, and sometimes, she felt like a walking skeleton.
The farther they went, the more rundown the streets and houses grew—missing roof pieces, crumbling stairways, and overgrown vines. Many items weren’t imbued too well on the outskirts to hold things together or keep them protected. The Stone founders had imbs to maintain the streets. Vic figured they didn’t waste their time on the slums. If the founders didn’t come down here, why bother? They reached her stop, and Kai needed to take a large step since the first step wasn’t there anymore.
Vic pointed him down the turns in the narrow walkways until they arrived at her small apartment.
“This is it. Will you let me walk this far?” With the imbued bandages, her ankle was already feeling much better.
Kai scanned the derelict building. “You chose this?”
Vic elbowed him, and he hissed in a breath but placed her down on the ground. “See you next week.”
As she waved goodbye, his hand shot out and caught her wrist.
“Do you need food until next week?” His low tone was filled with worry.
She clenched her jaw. “I have food.”
Scraps came up to her, brushed against her legs, and dropped a dead rat at her feet.
They stared down at the shaggy cat’s offering.
Kai’s mouth parted. “Blight take me, you don’t eat rats, do you?”
“No!” Vic gestured wildly. “This is just my cat. He eats the rats.”
Kai swallowed and looked her up and down. “Sparks, you can pay me back.”
“See you next week,” Vic repeated.
She took her scythe from him and turned.
Vic slowly took the steps up to her apartment. Scraps followed behind her after he’d picked up his dinner. She could feel Kai watching her, but she didn’t turn around. She unlocked her apartment door, went inside, and shut it behind her and Scraps.
Only then did she let out a deep breath and slid down the door. Her gicgauge was full, but now she had to contend with the second of Nyx. After next week, she would find out if she would see him again. The thought that she might not make it into Nyx saddened her, but for a different reason.
3
Vic
The arena contained all the reaper freelancers. White stone spires rose from the gravel-covered ground to support a second floor for spectators. A huge waste of space in a walled city, but since they held other sporting events here, that was how they justified it. The scent of dirt and sweat permeated the thick air, forcing Vic to breathe through her mouth. Even though three Orders—Dei, Boreus, and Nyx—took in new recruits, not everyone had a powerful enough relic to cut it past freelancing.
Her boots scuffed against the gravel as she kicked a stray pebble. A drop of sweat trailed down Vic’s neck as she waited on the arena floor. Her hair remained hidden under her hood, making her hotter among the press of bodies. If the other freelancers recognized her as the daughter of a founder, they might come after her in the trials. Her first-generation relic would be noticeable enough without pairing it with her hair. They might be able to recognize her by her face—it had been in the newspaper often enough after she’d left home. She didn’t blame them. She had an advantage over most with her training, not to mention her relic.
The trials never repeated the same task, so no one knew what awaited them. Her scythe remained in its harness, but some freelancers showed off for each other. A tall, muscular blond with a permanent smirk on his face stood along the outer edge, proudly displaying his scythe. It looked nice as it caught the light. The blade had a decent reach, but that wasn’t a predictor of how much magic it could wield or how much blight the stone could hold.
From the sea of black-clad bodies, Vic glanced up at the stands. The leaders sat in front of their Order’s flag, which displayed each Order symbol proudly. A stocky brown-haired man sat before a cerulean banner with two waves in the center. He leaned back in his chair and drank deeply from a stone goblet. He must have thought the whole trial was a show. In a way, it was, but if he was meant to pick reapers, drinking on the job was a bit careless. Boreus would be an okay Order to join, though the commander seemed less than impressive.
If Vic wanted to push herself further from her family, Dei was her ticket. The ragged flag of Dei stood out with its blood-red color and large black X in the center. A thin, scrappy woman sat back with her dirty boots on the ledge. Dei reapers lived on the western outskirts. They had plenty of blight availab
le to collect, but few reapers wanted to live as roughly. Most people would rather go through the trials again than join them. The thought appealed to her, but joining Nyx would come with a certain nobility that she needed. If she didn’t get into an Order, she would be right back where she’d been last week: starving.
The gray banner with the two crossed scythes had no one in front of it. The Nyx Order commander had yet to arrive.
“Probably why we’re all waiting,” Vic muttered.
The commanders’ sense of self-importance matched the founders’.
The crowd hushed, and Xiona, leader of Nyx, walked onto the platform and gazed out over the arena. Her hair hung in dark, thick braids that disappeared behind her back. She stood away from the freelancers, taking in everything around her. The harsh angles of her face showed no delicacy, but on Xiona, the features looked striking and highlighted her tawny skin. Her frame was small and wiry, every movement calculated. Vic didn’t want to face her in a fight; she’d sneak in behind you at night and slit your throat before you could scream.
“Welcome. You’re here to take on the noble task of clearing the city of blight and supplying us with magic to purify and protect.” A hint of boredom hung in Xiona’s voice as she spoke, like she was reciting lines from a play.
Vic stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She bet everyone here already reaped blight, but with less payment. And the vitals gave up everything to purify it after it was collected. She couldn’t get distracted by her sister’s plight today. She needed to get into an Order.
“There will be three tasks, but do not worry. If you fail one, that does not mean an Order won’t ask you to join them.”
“Just not you.” Vic snorted, and those around her shifted away in case their proximity to the negative person hurt their chances of getting into the “best” Order.
“In the first task, only one of you will remain standing, then we will decide who will compete in the second task.”
Vic reached under her hood to itch her scalp. The mood of the crowd shifted.