Reaper's Novice (Soul Collector #1)

by Cecilia Robert

  I clench my jaw, stiffen my spine, and scurry past them, my heels tapping in nervous uniformity. My skull throbs at the heat directed to it.

  “Fräulein Tei.” I cringe. Schulz’s voice is like a thousand whiplashes on my skin, with salt poured on it. I hitch my gaze from the floor and face him—them. Ouch. “Anyone ever mentioned how rude it is to poke your nose in other people’s business?”

  “I’m sorry. I was on the way to see Herr Schuster. I didn’t know you and Frau Ivasec were here.” Phew. I got the words out without turning to ashes.

  Herr Schulz’s chest inflates as he takes a deep breath. It deflates. He takes a step back and, with a mocking gentlemanly gesture, motions for me to pass. I sneak a glance at Frau Ivasec. She’s smiling as if nothing is wrong. I scamper past them, feeling the pressure of their gazes all the way to the teacher’s lounge. Outside, I inhale and knock once. Without waiting for a response, I dash inside and close the door behind me, then sag back on it.

  Why do I let him scare me so much?

  “Frau Tei, I see you completed my niece’s assignment,” Schuster says, smiling the same peaceful smile I’ve seen on his face the last four years.

  I nod, trying to shake off the weird encounter in the hallway. What were the two talking about?

  Schuster pushes his spectacles up his nose, takes the folder, and slides the first sheet out. His eyes widen for a split second before zipping up to me and then back to the paper. “You wrote this? How?” He pulls out the second and third sheet.

  Does it matter? I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Yes. I combined my own notes with others from a… another musical sheet.”

  He rubs his forehead, eyes back on the papers in his other hand. The fingers holding the folder tremble slightly. He peels his eyes from the music and stares at me. His eyes seem greener and more alive. The corners of his mouth tug as if fighting a smile. He clears his throat again. “I know it is none of my business, but I’m curious. What you composed in this folder is nothing short of… unique. I know this because, although I’m not an expert and it’s been years since I sat in a classroom to teach music, I have enough experience to recognize first-class work when I see it. May I ask about the other music sheet?”

  Ookayy. I wonder why he doesn’t teach his niece if he has a background in music. I decide to play along. “Sure. It’s a book actually, a gift.” I can’t stop the smile pulling on my lips.

  Last year on my seventeenth birthday, Lea invited Rolf for my party in Lea’s restaurant. Said she’d had enough watching Rolf and me “looking longingly at each other” and someone had to do something before we died of yearning. When I opened his gift wrapped in sparkly pink paper, I was floored to see the ballads book—specifically for violin.

  I open my mouth to continue. “It’s old. Looks well maintained with a thick bark-like cover, The Ballads of Unmaking.”

  The hand on his forehead slides to cover his mouth. Now he looks as though he’ll burst at the seams. In joy or another emotion, I can’t tell. “Have you ever tried to play the notes in it?”

  “No.” I want to, but every time I open the air-thin pages I stop. They’re so fragile and I fear I might destroy them with my eager fingers.

  He exhales. “Good. Very good.” He turns his back to me, head bowed and hands braced on the table.

  “Will this help your niece, sir?”

  He lifts his head but doesn’t turn around. “Yes. Yes, this will suffice.”

  Now what? “Are you all right, sir?”

  He tilts his head to the side. His profile is framed by the daylight streaming in from the wide, bare windows. “Excitement is a wild thing. My heart never seems to learn that. Thank you. That will be all.”

  His heart? “Should I call someone?” An ambulance?

  “No. I just need to catch my breath. Hurry up to class, Frau Tei.” Even though the last is a command, it’s issued in a gentle voice. As always. Herr Schuster has been teaching biology here for the past four years. Constant and serene. Behaving like he is now? It worried me.

  As instructed, I leave him to his own—from what I can see—troubled thoughts. Man, everyone is being weird today. Schulz and Ivasec arguing, Schuster asking weird questions—not to mention his happy yet panicky look.

  I rush back to class in time to find the English lesson already in progress.

  BURP. Anton grins and scratches his stomach. Lucy giggles and burps. I laugh, then burp, unable to stop myself from joining the fun. The three of us slouch on our seats laughing, and it feelsgood. Mischievous and fun. Upstairs, shuffling feet and hushed giggles indicate Mom and Dad are distracted with each other, preparing for their movie date. Chances of being scolded for our burp-fest? Nil.

  After clearing the dinner plates from the table, I herd my siblings into the living room for a game of Uno—after promising Anton we’ll play on the Wii later. Right now, spending time on my own isn’t something I’m striving for. Minutes later, Mom descends the stairs. I turn around in time to see Dad bound down behind her, smiling widely. He slips his arms around Mom’s waist from behind and spins her around. I drop my gaze. As if watching them during dinner wasn’t enough.

  Dinner consisted of heavy duty flirting—served by Mom and Dad—and mashed potatoes and roast steaks, prepared by yours truly. The side dish we got served was inappropriate kissing. I’m glad Mom and Dad are all lovey-dovey, but it’s not right for us to see that. At least they paused long enough to ask how our days were.

  “Aren’t you two supposed to be on your way?” I ask while shuffling the cards. Lucy slaps a hand on her mouth to stifle her giggles. Anton scratches his head and rolls his eyes in disgust.

  Mom and Dad leap ten feet from each other like teenagers caught in action. I swear they forgot we were in the same room with them.

  “All right, darlings, see you later,” Mom says patting her flushed cheeks. She runs her hands down the knee-length dark purple dress hugging every curve she possesses in her petite body.

  “Or tomorrow,” Dad adds, with a chuckle, appraising Mom with an adoringly gag-worthy look in his eyes. He looks casual in his sky-blue, button down shirt, beige pants, and boyish goofy grin on his face. He murmurs something about car keys and dashes upstairs.

  Mom lifts Lucy from her cushion on the floor, hugs her tightly, and kisses her forehead. She whispers, “I love you.” After placing her down, she leans forwards and kisses Anton who looks torn between melting into her touch and dashing off. She hugs him before turning and wrapping her arms around me. As she pulls away, she holds me at arms length and says in a low voice, “You seem different. More… grounded.” Was I flying before? “Everything okay?”

  I nod. “Never better. Why?”

  “Oh, you just seem to have grown up in the last week. You hardly argue back. So compliant…” Her eyebrows dip. “I can’t really describe it. I almost miss my rebellious baby.”

  Death has a way of shaking someone to their senses. “I’m fine, Mom. Don’t worry about me. Have fun tonight.”

  After Dad kisses us goodnight, our parents scamper out the front door. Watching them, my lips tug into a smile. As soon as the door closes and the last whiff of their tangled perfume and cologne fades, my heart squeezes. Will it ever be like that for me?

  I shake my head to disperse the thoughts and turn to my siblings. “Let’s play. Anton, get ready. Today, I win!”

  “As if you could,” Anton says, a sly smile on his face.

  I deal five cards to each of us and place the starter card in the centre. Then I roll onto my stomach to get comfortable.

  The cards pile up, but still none of us has come up with the right card. Lucy shifts on her pillow and says, “I know what I want for my birthday.”

  Anton scoffs. “Another Barbie doll?”

  Lucy crosses her arms in front of her chest and pouts. “He hates me. He’s so mean to me. Why, Ana?”

  I send Anton a pleading look. Tonight, I just want everything to be… normal. I’ve had enough
of weird lately. He rolls his eyes.

  “What would you like?” I ask Lucy. Her pout eases as her eyes light up and her lips stretch into a wide, gap-tooth smile. “A Monster High doll. Mom has a lot of money. She can afford it.” She nods sagely as if she knows the exact amount Mom has in her account.

  “Why do you think she has a lot of money?” I ask, spreading the cards in my fingers.

  “She’s always taking out money from the bank using that card.” Her smile widens. “Money, money, money.”

  I press my lips together to smother a smile. Anton doesn’t. He guffaws and smacks his knee. Sometimes I think Anton’s envy after Lucy’s unexpected arrival never faded. I don’t blame him. I was the same the first time Mom brought Anton home. Took me a while to change from envy to doting.

  “See, Lucy, I don’t think Mom has so much money. She needs to work to get that money in the bank, then use the card to remove money whenever she needs it.”

  She seems to run the words in her head. “Why does she need to put money in then take it out again?”

  “So she doesn’t lose it,” I say. Anton snorts. Lucy nods.

  One hour later, I rise to my feet to lift a snoring Lucy in my arms.

  “I’ll take her.” Anton drops his cards and hurriedly shoots to his feet. I look at him. “I swear I won’t drop her. I love her, even though you all think I dislike my own sister.” He adds the last sentence in a disgruntled voice, eyes on Lucy’s sleeping form.

  “I know you do.”

  His shoulders relax. He leans down and scoops Lucy into his arms. I follow as he negotiates his way upstairs. When did he become this strong?

  In Lucy’s room, he lays her on the bed as if he’s afraid to jostle her body and shatter it into pieces. This is a side of Anton I’ve never seen. Once he leaves, I kiss her forehead and catch an apple scent still lingering on her skin after her evening bath.

  I head to Anton’s room to find him impatiently hopping from one foot to another. He has already unhooked his Playstation and connected the Wii. He hands me one Nunchuk controller and grins, his hazel eyes gleaming.

  “Get ready to get your butt kicked, Ana.” He puffs his chest, then flops on the orange beanbag chair on the floor.

  “Ever heard of the proverb ‘Pride comes before a fall,’ little brother?”

  He shrugs. “Whatever, let’s play.”

  I pull a chair from the computer table and sink on it. Seconds later, I jerk and press the buttons with my fingers, allowing the music, graphic beeps, and tones from the game to fill my mind.

  Anton rubs his jaw and clears his throat, before abruptly pausing the game and turning to face me. “I can feel them. They’re peeking out.”

  I chuckle. “Still trying to force your beard out, eh? Patience, Anton.”

  “Seriously, Ana, there’s something here. The sideburns, too.” He runs a hand along his cheek.

  I laugh, and he grins wide, unfreezing the game. I love it when he smiles. Reminds me of that happy child behind that grumpy façade. Since Anton turned fourteen, all he wants is a beard. Sometimes he spends hours in front of the mirror searching for any telltale signs.

  After a few minutes of play, he pauses the game again. “Can I ask you something, Ana?”

  “Anytime and always.” I almost jump from my seat to his beanie to cuddle, but squelch the urge and tilt my body to face him. It’s been a while since we had a brother-sister talk. Since he turned thirteen, he’s kept everything bottled up. Right now he looks so small. What’s troubling him? A girlfriend? Bullying? Sex? Oh no, that’s Dad’s territory. Or Mom’s.

  “Have you always—” He snaps his mouth shut. His eyebrows dip in concentration as if organising the words in his mind. He takes a deep breath. Then words rush out of his lips. “I can’t decide what I’d like to do after junior high. I know I got accepted for electrical engineering, but… I’m not sure. Mom and Dad will freak out if I tell them I don’t want to do this.” Phew! Thank, God. Not sex. I wipe my hands on my skirt.

  I scoot my chair closer unable to resist. This subject, I can handle. “What would you like to do? Not what Mom and Dad want you to do. Just you.” He drops his gaze to his Nunchuk, fiddling with the buttons. “For me, it’s music. I can’t live without it.”

  He seems to mull this over, before lifting his eyes to mine. “I like photography. Rein once let me use his camera. Said I was a natural.” His eyes light up as he speaks about his passion.

  “All right, we’ll talk to Mom and Dad, unless you want to talk to them first.”

  He shakes his head, eyes wide. “You have to be there.”

  “We’ll do it together then.” I ruffle his now light brown dyed mohawk, the flavour of the day. What will be next? Yellow? Green?

  Two hours later, he beats me in the game, as he predicted. He cackles and hops from one foot to the other, chanting, “I beat you. I beat you.” I pretend to scowl, say goodnight, and turn to leave. I feel completely whacked both physically and emotionally. All I want is my bed.

  “Ana.” I turn at the same time Anton barrels into me. Air whooshes out of my lips. He wraps his lanky arms around my shoulders and hugs me tight. “You’re awesome, big sis.”

  I squeeze him back, savouring this rare hugging opportunity. “I love you, little bro.” His arms drop to his sides, and he takes an awkward step. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.” I let my eyes wander around his room and back at him.

  The smile on his face tips downwards. He shuffles back to the centre of the room, stepping on socks, jeans, and other unidentifiable stuff. He switches off his TV and Wii and mutters, “You’re worse than Mom.”

  “Tough love, bro.” I laugh; he glares. Grumpy is back.

  Inside my room, I strip, slip on my red and white flannel pyjamas, and slide between the cool sheets. Outside my window, thunder rolls and lightning skitters across the sky, announcing the pending storm after a day of hot weather. Leaves and limbs from the Linden tree outside my window sigh as they tangle with the wind and splutters of rain. Through my open window, the breeze carries the smell of rain on sun-dried ground. I inhale and burrow deeper under my covers. Grim hasn’t shown up. Where is he? What’s he planning? My mind wanders to Shark Teeth and Blond Guy. Shark Teeth mentioned ‘his mark’. It could only be Grim’s. And probably the reason I could see things in the U-Bahn.

  I shudder.

  Don’t think about it. Think about other things. Other things… like… my orientation at the Conservatory.

  ***

  Grim arrives close to dawn for collection. He ghosts us to a home in Linz in Upper Austria to collect the soul of a forty-nine-year-old man, who died of a heart attack. Later we head over to Watchman Chamber at Stephansdom Cathedral for more verbal lessons, as he likes to call them. Basically I think he brings me here to gather my thoughts because he knows it is my favourite place. We chat until the sun bursts through the sky. Then it’s time to go home to prepare for school.

  “Before you leave, I would like to introduce you to a…” He seems to weigh the words in his head. Finally, he sighs and says, “Friend.” He waves a hand. My skin tingles, exactly like how my body responded when Grim appeared in my room.

  There’s movement from the corner of my eye. I spin around, eager to meet Grim’s ‘friend’. Someone to help me understand the inner working of soul collection, I hope. I freeze and clutch the stone wall for support, eyeing the blond curls, startling blue eyes, and a confident smile.

  My arms drop from my waist. My jaw hits the floor. Sweet Mother Mary. “You!”

  “YES. ME.” My nightmare throws its hands dramatically to the sides and swivels a 360-degree turn on its heels. “Doves, cats, dogs, and other animals, Soul Collector extraordinaire.”

  I collect my jaw from the floor and breathe in. One. Two. Three. Breathe out. I give up. Right this second, I feel like a train heading for collision. Fast and furious. I clench my hands at my sides and blow out a hot breath.

  Grim’s gaze bounces fro
m me to Blond Guy. “You two know each other?”

  The memory of the incident in the U-Bahn station flashes in my mind. I open my mouth to answer him. Nothing tumbles out. I’m too incensed for words.

  Blond Guy bounces on his toes like he can’t contain himself. “Not by name. Introductions, please.”

  Someone extinguish the flames blowing out of my nose.

  Grim glares at him. “I remember asking you precisely not to visit her until I introduced you.” His voice drips with irritation, but somehow his face fails miserably to convey what his tone does.

  “It’s all part of spreading the love, Ernest. Your motto, not mine.” He pushes back the locks on his forehead and grins wide. “I was merely putting it into practise.”

  I feel as if I landed on Pluto. What are they talking about? And who is this guy?

  Grim sighs.. His eyes are focused on Blond Guy. Adoringly. Just in the same way I catch Dad, unawares, staring at my siblings and me.

  Intriguing.

  “Siegfried, this is Ana, my Novice. Ana, Siegfried.” Grim pronounces the name like Zigfreed.

  Siegfried’s long legs wrapped in dark jeans swallow the distance between us in two huge strides. He thrusts his right hand at me. “Call me Zig. It’s a pleasure to meet such a lovely lady.” I look at his hand: long, strong fingers, large callused palms. I glance at Grim, his expression hopeful. He looks at Zig, then me. I turn to Zig and place my hand on his, grudgingly. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, still smiling.

  What a charming devil! Too bad ‘womanizer’ is stamped all over him. I smile, pleasantly I hope, and snatch my hand from his. He chuckles and bows slightly.

  “Cut it out, Siegfried. I need you to behave. Ana is not like your collection of girls. Be kind enough and take her home, please. Her house.” Grim turns to face me. “Siegfried will brief you on what you need. The Unveiling Dinner is on Monday. He will provide you with everything.” Grim turns to leave.