by Gwen Knight
Reaper
Gwen Knight
Copyright © 2017 by Gwen Knight
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. By purchasing this book, you have been granted the non-exclusive and non-transferable right to access and read it. No part of this text may be duplicated, reproduced, reverse engineered, transmitted, downloaded, or stored without the author’s permission. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Contents
The Isa Fae
Once Upon a Time…
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About the Author
Reach for the Sky Sneak Peak
Marked Sneak Peak
Also by Gwen Knight
The World of Isa Fae…
In the world of Isa Fae, magic is both a life source and a currency, and running out of magic means certain death. But beyond barter, the only way to obtain more magic is by collecting energy from other dimensions…an option that hasn’t been available since a nuclear war rendered Earth uninhabitable, cutting off the fae’s primary source.
With the stores of magic dwindling, and no access to the human world to get more, the fae must find new ways to distribute magic and protect what little they have. But when the factions can’t agree on how to move forward and secede from one another, it leaves each to be represented by its own leaders and ruled by its own laws.
What lengths will each faction go to in order to survive? And what price will survivors from Earth pay to be a part of their new world?
Hollow - Steffanie Holmes
Illusions - Jade Kerrion
Insomnia - Noree Cosper
Hunter - Angela Fristoe
Legacy - Lindsey R. Loucks
Trapped - Shannon Eckrich
ONCE UPON A TIME…
There lived a young prince in his shining kingdom.
Wasn’t that how all fairy tales began? With a hopeful promise and a doting monarch? Lies. All of it. There was no such thing as a loving prince, nor had I ever laid eyes on this so-called shining kingdom.
Fairy tales didn’t exist. There was no such thing as happily ever after. And as I gazed over the charred land stretched before me, rife with stinking corpses, I realized…this was a eulogy.
Fitting, then, that they called me Reaper.
1
THE REAPER—The girl is a witch, nothing more. But for all intents and purposes, she suits our needs. This is a dark time for Faction Fourteen. Snow blankets the streets of Osvea, the wind holds a bitter chill, and it would appear we can no longer draw magic from these human refugees. The cause of this change? Unknown. At this point, the girl is our only salvation. Acquire her by any means necessary.
—Dispatch to the ranks, from Lord Arik Brooke
This wasn’t the first time I’d run away. Hell, it wasn’t even the fifth. And every time, he dragged me back like I was nothing more than his pretty little toy. His witch in fae clothing.
I glanced down and grimaced at the tattered remains wrapped around my lack of curves. I didn’t belong to him. Or here, for that matter, in the thriving capitol. Not that my opinion mattered. What Lord Arik wanted, he acquired. Regardless of cost.
But not today.
I was determined to make today count. With Arik out of town, it was my only chance. So with my hood pulled up over my head, I wove through the dark back alleys, my hushed footsteps carrying me across the cobbled roads. Out in the open like this, I felt exposed and unprotected. At any moment, someone could spot me. And if they did…
It was illegal for witches to wander freely in Osvea. Of course, I was the only one who ever did. No witch wanted inside the massive spiked fence Arik had long since erected around the entire city. And I desperately wanted out. The Foundry was where I belonged—the large parcel of land just beyond the wall that had been “gifted” to the witches. Or so the council proclaimed. Really, it was nothing more than a run-down slum with little more than dirt roads and a bunch of hovels.
I was the only witch allowed inside the wall. The Lord Protector’s pet. His darling little reaper. Cherished and loved.
I snorted under my breath. That was the line they’d fed my father when they’d taken me. Lord Arik coveted me for my power, nothing more. He didn’t care a lick about me, and nor did the other fae. To them, I was a monster. The thing they warned their children about. The beast the Lord Protector kept in chains, only allowing her out when there was magic to reap.
Something so heinous that could slaughter them all with a single thought.
And they were right.
It was also why Arik had limited my magic. Wouldn’t do for his pet to go on a killing spree. The fae only saw a demon. And if someone were to catch sight of me within the city, the law was clear. Trespassing within the city was punishable by an immediate beheading.
Even monsters needed their heads.
The sound of laughter swelled in the main streets.
With a gasp, I flattened myself against the nearest wall. A myriad of voices rose as one, the sound echoing through the alley as they neared my hiding spot. So close. Too close.
Their footsteps thundered in my ears, drowning out my pounding heartbeat. Usually, I wouldn’t have dared an escape, but I was desperate to see my father. And Arik was out of town. Now was my only chance. So long as I returned before he did.
I could barely remember when last I’d seen my father. A year ago, at least. Maybe longer. Time passed differently in Osvea than it did in the Foundry, thanks to magic. Arik blamed the erratic pockets of time on dwindling magic—unpredictable responses to the fading power that had long since plagued these streets. A day for the fae sometimes amounted to a week for the humans.
For me, it’d been fourteen, maybe fifteen, months since I’d last braved a visit to the Foundry. But for my father? It could have been years. With the mercurial fluctuations in magic, I wouldn’t know until I saw him. But the idea frightened me. He’d seemed so worn, so aged during our last visit.
The sound of voices had me sucking in a steadying breath. They’d pass by. They had to. No one used the back alleys. Maybe this was a dangerous game, but it was one I refused to give up. Arik had stolen everything from me—I wouldn’t lose my father as well.
After a few more moments, their voices faded and their footsteps retreated.
My breath rushed past my lips, and I slumped forward. This wasn’t the first time I’d snuck out, but it hardly made the attempt any easier. If anything, the risk grew each time I left. Arik demanded I submit to him, to accept my life as it was, and be grateful.
Ha. Never.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins, turning my relief into a frantic chuckle. My whole body trembled against the brick wall. Even knowing
the dangers, leaving was still worth the risk.
I peered around the building corner and studied the alley from beneath the hem of my hood. Just beyond the exit was the market. And much like every morning, the streets were busy, riddled with customers as they shopped for wares. Large white tents stood in the center square, filled with opulent jewels, fresh bread, and elegant gowns. The epitome of fae.
I watched for a moment as the fae closest to me inspected a stunning jewel. She and the vendor conversed back and forth until finally settling on an agreed price. With a pleased smile, the patron pulled back the sleeve of her dress and presented her wrist. The payment was quick, little more than transfer of magic—or atern as the fae called it—between their bracelets, and then she was on her way. Standard fanfare.
It was the spiked fence in the distance that held my interest. My gaze strayed beyond the market and landed on the Foundry—my target. The few times I’d done this before, I’d kept to the shadows surrounding the market. If I’d learned anything in my time with the fae, it was that they rarely cared about anything but their own lives. All I had to do was make it to the edge of the emporium where a gap in the fence waited.
Now or never, girl.
I pulled my hood farther down over my face, then slipped out of the alley and into the market. Tension rang through my body as I awaited the first cry, the first horrible screech that announced my presence. But no one so much as glanced my way.
Relief eased the pit of nerves in my stomach. So far, so good. I could do this. I knew the path, knew the people, and knew the shadows. I simply had to trust myself.
I skirted around the edge of the market, careful to keep a distance from the tents. A few glanced my way, their heads cocked as they regarded a cloaked female, but no one cried out for a guard. Still, I wouldn’t feel safe until I’d crossed through the fence. No fae had ever willingly entered the Foundry, and I doubted they’d start today. To them, it was nothing more than a squalid piece of land composed of shacks, snow-packed streets, and one run-down factory. But to me, it was home.
From beneath the folds of my hood, I eyed the fence. As tall as the trees, it encircled all of Osvea, and its spikes stabbed at the sky. Climbing it was impossible, as was burrowing beneath. They’d used magic to plant the posts and had extended them a few feet beneath the surface. Damned fence was near impenetrable and might have remained that way had I not found a single weakness. A small gap in the chains I’d managed to exploit. Every time I approached it, though, I felt the same apprehension. What if the fae had spotted the hole? What if they’d sealed it up? Finding another would take years, if ever. But much like the time before, the slitted hole was still there, hidden behind a copse of thick bushes.
I pried my way through the foliage, pulled my cloak tight around my body, and slipped through the metal links. The moment I stood on the other side, my shoulders rounded, and I released the tense breath I’d been holding.
Just like that, I was home.
I glanced back at Osvea, a small twinge pulling at my chest. I had to admit, at least to myself, on the surface, the city was a beautiful sight. Rows upon rows of tents dotted the market, each brimming with their lavish wares. And in the center, a circle of fae gathered and talked amongst themselves as they enjoyed another day.
But the beauty was all a guise. A tainted elegance, much like the fae themselves. Once, their grace and charm had enthralled me. Then I’d grown up, and my reverence had dimmed when I’d seen the truth behind the lies.
Shaking my head, I turned back toward the Foundry, separated from Osvea by a field of pristine, white snow. I took the first step and cursed under my breath when the snow reached my calves. And this was only the start. The farther I ventured, the deeper the snow and the colder the temperatures. The fae had always used magic to warm Osvea and keep the streets clear, but the witches lacked the power for such luxuries. Thanks to Arik.
And me.
The crisp air seized in my lungs and bit at my cheeks, but I refused to let that sway me. As a child, I’d grown accustomed to this sort of cold, but years of living in Osvea had thinned my blood, and now the wintry chill was almost enough to break me. I’d chosen the best cloak available, but it was nothing more than a long and battered scrap of material.
Shivering, I tugged the cloak tighter. The muscles in my hips ached as I struggled through the snow, but I was so close. Too close to give up. Finally, I came across a shoveled path. I staggered onto it as relief loosened my tense muscles.
I straightened and was about to continue onward when I heard a familiar voice rise through the streets. “Keira!”
I pushed back my hood and lifted my head, my trembling lips splitting into a wide grin at the sight of a childhood friend. “Logan!”
Without a second thought, I raced toward him, my feet slipping on the ice. I laughed as I struggled to keep my footing with the ground like a sheet of glass beneath me.
Logan dropped the lumber he carried and opened his arms to me. I launched myself into them, my heart bursting at the sight of him.
“My God, girl! You’re shivering,” he said.
I sank into his embrace, startled by the feel of his solid arms wrapped around my waist. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been stick thin and all legs. Now, he stood at least a head taller than me, his body rock hard. Nothing like the gangly teenager I remembered.
He gave me a firm squeeze, then lowered me to the ground and held me at arm’s length, his gaze raking me over. “Well, look at you! You haven’t changed a bit.”
My mouth fell slack as I studied him. I couldn’t say the same. He looked twenty-four, twenty-five years old. When I’d last visited, he’d been twenty-two, and I’d been nineteen.
I forced myself to swallow, then met his warm auburn gaze. “How old are you now?”
“Just turned twenty-six last week.”
My stomach clenched. Before Arik had taken me, Logan and I had been the same age. We’d grown up together, best friends since infancy. And now, we were six years apart in age.
“Four years,” I whispered. And in that time, I’d aged one. Our age gap had started at fourteen when Arik had taken me, and now it was almost out of control.
“Hey.” He hooked his index finger beneath my chin and lifted. “Age will never matter between us.”
I wanted to smile, wanted to promise him the same thing, but I knew better. The next time I came, he would be in his thirties, with me still in my twenties. If this continued, he’d pass into old age before I reached middle.
“It really is good to see you,” he murmured. “I’ve missed you.”
My mouth curved into a watery smile. I couldn’t begin to explain how much I’d missed them. Living in Osvea was no fairy tale. Arik limited my life there, and it was often harsh, not that I’d ever revealed that to anyone. Somehow, it’d always felt like my burden to bear.
He cocked his head. “How long has it been for you?”
“One year,” I said. “I didn’t realize time was moving that erratically.”
Logan sighed and glanced up at the sky, eyeing the faint scar amongst the clouds—the place where the world had split and humans had entered this realm. “Magic has always been unpredictable.” He brushed the mussed brown hair from his face and gazed back down at me. “Come on, I know someone who will be ecstatic to see you. Your father has been talking nonstop about you lately.”
My heart leapt into my throat. “How is he?”
“Things have been hard for him recently, but he’s all right otherwise.”
“Things? What things?” I scanned the Foundry, but the streets were empty. No one was outside. In fact, the entire place was eerily silent. “What’s going on?”
“Things have been hard on a lot of people,” Logan murmured. His hand pressed into the small of my back, and he guided me off the street toward the nearest path.
I studied the barren streets as we moved. Abused tenements and haggard shops lined the roads, their wooden walls cracked and peelin
g. Doors hung haphazardly; the windows were half-opened and broken. I caught glimpses of the people I’d grown up with, some faces familiar, some completely different. And as we passed by their windows, they all stopped to stare.
At me.
No one came rushing out to welcome me. No happy voices or welcoming calls rang through the streets. I bit my lip and tucked in closer to Logan’s side. A depressed air weighed down the entire Foundry.
“It’s been difficult lately,” Logan commented. “They call you Reaper now.”
I cringed. Reaper. The name Arik had given me. For them to have adopted that title…my heart fell. And all thanks to my particular gift. Before Arik found me, my people considered me a conduit, someone capable of siphoning and channeling magic. A rare talent, my father had told me.
But it was more than that. I could take magic from others. An ability no one else possessed. The moment Arik caught wind of it, he’d ripped me from my home and raised me in his court. The only witch permitted to live within Osvea. And that was the day he’d charged me with one specific job.
Reaping magic from dead witches and funnelling it back to him.
Before The Crossing—before humans had entered this realm—the fae had simply entered our world and taken what they’d needed. Back then, all they’d had to do was lay hands on us, and our magic became theirs. But then, nuclear war had destroyed our world, and the fae had opened their home to us, welcoming us in with open arms…until they’d realized something had changed. Gone was their ability to take our magic. Different realm, different rules. In this realm, my ability was the only thing they had working for them. They needed magic. It controlled their entire existence. Their ability to glamour, to control the weather, to barter for goods and services. Their society was mired in magic.