Reaper (Lightbringer)

by K. D. McEntire

  Eddie looked between the girls and Piotr, annoyed now. No one, not Piotr or Elle, not even Lily, was looking in his direction; they were all concentrating on the oncoming traffic. Gesturing for Eddie to join them, Piotr crouched dramatically down, tensing, as a long bus trundled up the on-ramp.

  Elle grabbed Eddie's left hand, Lily his right and, as one, they flung him through the door of the bus. He skidded down the aisle and landed at the rear of the bus, clinging to the thin memory of the pole that had once been there. Seconds later, Piotr joined him.

  “You were saying, Eddie?” Piotr asked, helping Eddie to his feet and guiding him to one of the empty seats near the back. Eddie flushed. Thankfully the bus was empty save for the driver and the dead.

  “Ahem. That sucked, man. The train was bad enough, and hitching on that van wasn't the easiest thing ever, but I can't believe you all travel that way every day.” Embarrassed at his less-than-graceful landing, Eddie shook his head. “How do you not go flying out the—You know what? Not important.”

  Elle plopped down in an empty seat beside him and leaned against the window. “Keep on, ducky.”

  “Yeah, like I was saying,” Eddie continued, “we got beat down by a bunch of birds, and that sucked, and it's totally possible that they took Ada because they were, I don't know, under orders to or something. I get that.”

  Eddie stared at Piotr earnestly, continuing on. “But the thing is, you all haven't met Emma or Nana Moses or Jane or any of the other Reapers. Yeah, a bunch of them are stuck up, and they look down on anyone who happens to be of the, uh, well, ethereal persuasion, but not all of them are like that. And Wendy's one of their own. They said they wouldn't hurt her.”

  “It is difficult to think poorly of those you've broken bread with, or slept beneath their roof, this I understand,” Piotr said slowly, stretching out across two seats. “But I knew Mary. We spoke many, many times. And she did not trust her family any further than she would a Walker.”

  “First of all, Wendy's mom is dead, Piotr. She was a nice enough lady while she was alive, but kind of a control freak, to be honest. And even when she wasn't dead, wasn't she the one who drained you like a Duracell every chance she got? Ate your memories like candy?”

  “This is true. What of it?” Piotr's expression was unreadable; Eddie hoped that he'd never have to play poker with the guy.

  “Even if all that poison crap was really all for Wendy's sake—which, I'd like to add, we've got no proof of, just Ada's say so—out of all the people, well, anywhere, you're the last one I expected to just take her at her word on anything. I mean, she's what, part of this high-and-mighty Council? What do they do that's so great?”

  “The Council has its place, just as the Riders do. As for Mary, I do not know why she chose to take of me as often as she did in the end, Eddie, but I can say that, in the beginning at least, she had good reasons for it.”

  “It must've been some reason, that's all I'm saying.”

  “This place, this city, was different before. It was a darker, harder place for the dead while Elise was in control. It seems so strange that I could not remember this before, but if the dead did not agree to enslave themselves under Elise's rule then they were tortured or worse. Any Reaper that did not agree with Elise was…handled.”

  The bus stopped and two men, old, bedraggled, and obviously drunk, stumbled on board and, staggering toward the ghosts, flung themselves down into nearby seats. A third followed close behind and was about to sit on Piotr when Piotr reached out and brushed a hand against the man's wrist.

  “This seat is taken,” he said simply, and Eddie was in the middle of wondering why Piotr had even bothered when the drunk man, blinking in confusion, shivered and stepped past, joining his buddies further down.

  Eddie was glad that Lily and Elle seemed just as flustered by the encounter as he was; they exchanged a startled glance, but it was as if Piotr didn't even notice what he'd apparently done. Elle looked between Piotr and the man, confused. “How did you—”

  “Eddie?” Piotr said. “My apologies for the interruption. Please do continue.”

  Eddie grimaced. He wanted to ask about the man but his previous point hadn't been completed either. “Seriously? Then how come none of you guys have even mentioned this before? The whole Elise-slave/family ‘handled’ thing?”

  Lily shrugged, eying Piotr carefully as he turned his head away. Eddie knew she was just as troubled as he was, but she also seemed willing to let Piotr's trick go for the time being. She cleared her throat and said, “The Riders were so used to hiding that we were able to stay clear of most of the politics and problems of the age, but even we were indirectly touched. Our Lost kept us inside, hidden, but the numbers of Walkers grew and grew while Elise was in control. To be honest, I did not even know her name, only that there was a powerful human, a Seer of sorts, who had many of the spirits concerned.”

  “I had just squatted at the Pier so I heard some of this back then,” Elle replied, still glancing askance between Piotr and the drunken man, “but I kept low so it didn't affect me. I don't gossip.”

  “As for myself, my memories of that time had been stripped clean and I did not recall until now,” Piotr added. “At the time, when Mary sought me out, I was angry, upset, to be drawn yet again into the Reaper's machinations, into their silly family squabbles.”

  “I bet,” Eddie said. “Who wouldn't be? But then why'd you go for it anyway?”

  “Initially I was not going to help, but after learning the fate of Mary's si—” he broke off, frowning. “Mary's particular plight notwithstanding, after seeing what the city had become for the ordinary dead, how even good souls were forced to choose between becoming Shades, fading away, or donning the cloaks and teeth of the Walkers, well, how could I not help where I may?”

  Piotr smiled softly and tapped his temple again, “I urged her to take it all.”

  “Ew,” Elle said. For a moment Eddie thought she was referring just to what Piotr had said, but then Eddie noticed the shadow of the living man Piotr'd touched, vomiting up his tequila dinner in the stairwell.

  Eddie could practically smell the sickness-death-rot aroma pouring out of the man as he hunched over and heaved again.

  Elle frowned at the heaving man. “What did you do to him, flyboy?”

  He looked at her blankly. “I do not understand.”

  “With the touchy-touchy, ‘move along, Jack’ bit,” Elle gestured between the drunken man and Piotr. “Let me guess, you don't remember?”

  “I remember but, Elle, I am unpleasantly cold to the touch,” Piotr reminded her patiently. “We all are. Of course on encountering me he moved. This spot is icy and there were many, many seats to choose from.”

  “I dunno…it seemed more than that.” The man retched louder and a hot splatter flew up and passed through the spot where Elle was sitting. “Oh, ew! Fine, whatever, either way, you're crazy, Pete,” Elle continued, changing seats to get away from the bile.

  “Indeed?”

  “Yes, you're a total whackadoo. It was one thing when I thought the White Lady or Mary or whomever, was, I don't know, ambushing you and taking your brains, but knowing now that you gave it up just like that? I think I just lost a little respect for you, flyboy.”

  “Hush, Elle, you know not of what you speak. Mary walked the difficult line between duty and family,” Lily said seriously. “This I understand. It is a truly arduous path. But why so much secrecy? If she wished Wendy to walk in her footsteps, to keep this area safe from these dark Reapers, why did she not confide in the Lightbringer herself? Why the mystery?”

  “Mary called the other Reapers monsters,” Piotr said. The bus stopped to let the three men off and he took advantage of the stop to step outside himself. The others followed suit. The bus driver did not pull away immediately, but leaned out the open door to berate the vomit-covered drunk, slowing her tirade only when Piotr passed near.

  “The other Reapers were of her flesh, but their eyes were cold, the
ir hands cruel,” Piotr said. “Like Wendy, in their youth, Mary and a few other idealistic Reapers considered stopping reaping, what they call the ‘Good Work.’ The irony of the name rankled at them since, if they could do no tangible, provable good, why work for the family at all? There was no point to it but pain and degradation, both for the Reapers and for the dead. For Mary especially, who lost much in the end.”

  “Um, because stopping reaping hurts?” Eddie interrupted, surprising them. He knew this area as well as Piotr did; without thinking about it Eddie began moving in the direction of Wendy's house, guiding them. “Nana Moses was telling Wendy about it. It hurts to stop and sometimes stopping killed ’em. Bottled them up.”

  Elle grimaced. “No joshin’?”

  “Naturals like Wendy had it the worst, too, because the more they used their power the more some nasty sort of boogie-man would be attracted to them, so for a natural it was a lose-lose situation. Once you wake up and get inducted into the Never or whatever, you have to reap and send on souls. Reap or die.”

  Piotr grimaced. “Then it is doubly important that we find Wendy as quickly as possible, to let her know of these terrible things regarding her family. Her mother—”

  “Mary must have quit,” Lily surmised, gliding through a short fence, “and found that the pain was too great.” She frowned down at her leg and wiped the dusty remains of old roses off her thigh.

  “Wuss,” Elle sneered.

  “Not only the pain, but the threat from her own family,” Piotr said. “I hesitate to reveal this now, but her sister, like Mary, had come to the same conclusion: that their aunt was corrupt, that the noble goal of their family was rapidly degrading for profit and power. She was,” he frowned, “she was eliminated.”

  “Wendy had an aunt?” Eddie paled, feeling whatever passed for a stomach in this ethereal body of his twist uncomfortably at the news. “And they straight-up killed her? Wow. That's…harsh.” He scowled at Elle's derisive snort. “Hey now, you come up with a better word for ‘monumentally screwed up’ on short notice.”

  “This was, of course, before Mary found me,” Piotr continued. “With the permission of her grandmother, the one you've named ‘Nana Moses,’ Mary and her sister delved into the books of their family, into the scrolls and ancient texts then kept in the basement of their grandmother's home. The stories and myths were well-preserved for what they were—frequently the remembrances of the Reapers, when not written down, were embroidered onto collars and the insides of sturdy cloaks—but they were women, you see, and while some were encouraged to learn to read, many…most…were illiterate.”

  “Clever,” Elle said. They'd reached Safeway, and now even Eddie was pleased with how close they'd come. “They told their stories through paintings and some such too, I bet?”

  “The few books were often transcribed and copied by the boys in the family, over and over again. Copies of copies that she found wrapped in tarps and plastic, in cloth and painted on narrow strips of ribbon or on the inside of wooden-backed brushes. This was before the death of her sister. They worked together, and when they'd found enough proof that the family was not supposed to be directed the way it was, that there was reason and greater purpose to their gift, Mary's sister approached their aunt, demanding change.”

  “Which she got, just not the change she was picturing,” Eddie said, wincing. “Man, again, that's just…harsh. This way. It's shorter.” Getting the hang of it now, Eddie passed through a rusty chain link fence and began heading directly down the street toward Wendy's.

  “Her sister was framed by the family, so to speak, and put up on trumped up charges. They had her put to death in the old way, and Mary knew that she had to keep going to respect the memory of her own. Hidden, Mary continued researching, delving deeper and deeper into their past. Eventually she'd gone so far that the language wasn't translated; she had to go on pictures alone. And there, in smelted metals and calcified wood, in tapestries woven of hair and wool woven softer than silk, she found what she believed to be the origins of her family.”

  Elle shivered and sat on the narrow bus stop bench. Sensing her unease, Eddie stopped for the moment. The moon was bright and they all needed a short rest. “Okay, I'm not any kind of dumb dora, but that is creepy, Pete.”

  “When did she seek you out?” Lily asked, her piercing gaze never leaving Piotr's face. Eddie smirked as Piotr shifted uneasily beneath the forthright gaze. “Why did she look for you?”

  Settling on the bench beside Elle, Piotr shrugged. “The stories and texts have always spoken of unending spirits who stayed near the core of the Reaper clan, but here, in those ancient texts, was definitive proof of their existence. I do not know how she found me; Mary was always close-lipped about that, but find me she did. She called me an Unending One.”

  “Did you remember your history before you encountered Mary?” Lily pressed as Eddie settled into a relaxed squat at her feet, examining a short stretch of buckled bricks laid in a herringbone pattern in the street. “Or was it Mary who stripped your mind clean?”

  “You know this,” Piotr said, his tone half-embarrassed, half-admonishing. “Not six months ago it was you yourself who told me that my memories have always been strange.”

  “Enough about Pete's wonky head, he's always been left holding the bag,” Elle said eagerly. “Finish up with Mary. This is better than a radio drama. I want to know what happens next!”

  “The history of the Reapers is not some story for you to gawk at,” Piotr snapped testily. “There is much meaning here and much to be concerned about!”

  “There isn't much more to tell, though,” Eddie said, getting up and offering a hand to Elle. She refused it and he shrugged. He'd thought of offering it to Lily, but he worried what she might think of the offer. “A kid could figure out what happened next. You gave up memories to Mary, making her stronger. She, in turn, wiped out a bunch of Shades and then made a deal with Ada and the Council to not bug them if they hid every ghost they could get their hands on for a while. She'd take care of the bulk of their Walker problem, and hopefully she'd convince her family that she could take care of the whole Bay Area by herself, protecting herself and all the ghosts in one fell swoop. She did, they left, and then later she got married and popped out Wendy and the twins.”

  “Da,” Piotr agreed. “When Wendy was discovered to be a natural—”

  “Her mother must've been terrified out of her ever lovin’ gourd,” Elle mused. “Because, on the one hand, powerful strong kiddo that probably could take care of the whole city by herself. On the other hand, she lets Wendy get too strong, then BAM, balderkin.”

  “Shhh,” Lily hushed sharply, glancing around furtively. They were very near where the gulls had attacked the first time, Eddie realized; the grass at their feet was still torn and spattered and foul. Lily had noticed as well. “We don't know who is listening.”

  “Hush yourself, Pocahontas,” Elle snapped back. “The whole block is empty! We're fine! The point of the matter is, Mary had to train up an early-bloomin’ daughter and take care of a city now pretty much overrun with ghosts she'd hidden from her family, all by herself. And she couldn't let Wendy use her power too much, too fast either, she had to keep her in the dark about a lot of important stuff. Am I getting all this right, Pete?”

  “You have the gist of it,” Piotr agreed wearily.

  “So she assigns Wendy nothing but Shades, and if I'm remembering right, then she tries to take on the rest of the city by her little ol’ lonesome. If it'd been my kid, I'd have been worried half to death that Wendy was getting bottled up, too, because yeah, it'd hurt, but Wendy ain't exactly the type to mouth off when she's under the weather. I don't like her much, but I'll admit, she plays it close to the vest when she's not tip-top. And all the time, Mary's having to keep an eye out over her shoulder for any family spies that nasty Aunt Elise probably sent in to peek at them from time to time.”

  “Wendy was quite strong the first time we laid eyes upon her,” Lily sai
d slowly. “Most likely she was growing quite competent on Shades alone, upsetting the fine balance her mother was devising. She was growing and adapting far too fast for her mother's comfort.”

  “Yeah, Mary was always kind of…weird about Wendy,” Eddie agreed.

  They'd reached Wendy's street; unconsciously they all slowed their pace and eyed the sky for gulls, lowering their voices so that they had to strain to hear one another.

  “Especially near the end,” Eddie added, feeling a little like he was admitting great dark secrets instead of info they could learn from Wendy just as easily as from Eddie. “Calling her out at psycho hours, dragging her out of class for nonexistent doctor appointments and bringing her back an hour or two later. I thought it was just her being a hypochondriac EMT at the time, cuz I didn't know what was up with Wendy right then, but looking back…like, she was always asking all these strange questions and stuff.”

  “Indeed?” Piotr asked, speeding up slightly.

  Eddie sped up as well. He couldn't help himself either; kiss from Lily or not, he and Piotr were both anxious to see Wendy once more. “Oh yeah,” he agreed. “She'd poke her head in while we were studying all the time, you know? I thought maybe she and Wendy's dad were worried that we were, uh,” he glanced at Piotr and then, flushing, shrugged, “you know, making out or something. But we weren't, and she seemed sort of pissed about that.”

  “Cue Ada,” Piotr said. “Mary's concern had grown so great that she sought out help.”

  “Certainly Ada, ever the scientist, would not refuse a Reaper in need,” Lily said. “They devised an alteration to the original poison recipe, as Ada suggested, possibly to slow Wendy's growth, but were not able to implement it in time. Instead Mary became the White Lady and Wendy was left to her own devices.”

  “Not to break the dramatic tension, but we're here,” Eddie said. He waved a hand at the lopsided car in the driveway. “And if I'm not mistaken, Wendy's home.”

  Elle hadn't been kidding, Piotr realized as they entered Wendy's home; the kitchen was destroyed. The fridge was tipped over on its side, its innards spilled everywhere, and the floor was tacky with dried milk and exploded sour cream. A whole chicken lay half under the stool by the counter, pink blood seeping out of a crushed corner.