Reaper's Novice (Soul Collector #1)

by Cecilia Robert

  “It adapts to the season. Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Zig ducks his head and peers at me. “Hey, are you okay?”

  I nod. “Thank you, Zig.”

  He rubs his hands together. “Good. Are you ready for our lessons?”

  “Don’t you have any collections to do? I have to go back to class.”

  “Nope. And your class ends in three, two, one…” The bell rings. “Come on, lovely. Let’s shift out of here. We’ll get your bag on the way out.” I don’t move a step. “Look, this training is part of your protection. You’ll add it to your kick-ass kit.”

  “Kick-ass kit?” I frown. “What’s that?”

  “Did Ernest give you the knife?” I nod. “Now, the kick-ass kit is the overall package you’ll need for the job. Trench, soul knife, food, me.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I roll my eyes. “Right.”

  “Good. We understand each other. Come on. Someone’s coming.”

  I grab his hand, and we shift out and inside the now empty classroom. After shoving the books inside the rucksack, we leave.

  ***

  “Concentrate. Now, close your eyes. Visualize. Let whatever shifting magic Ernest bestowed on you flow through you.” Zig sounds as tired as I feel. I breathe in and pull the image of the little hut across the field as the area I want to shift to. I let it soar in my blood. My body doesn’t even move an inch. This is exhausting. I wish we could pack it in for today and go home. Zig left nine times to complete his assignments, and each time he dragged me along with him. Right now, my head is about to explode. “I have. And I’m tired, Zig. Can’t we do this tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  “Why?” My voice is whiny, but I don’t care.

  “Because you’re not trying. Push yourself. Let’s try one more time, lovely.” Even that endearment on his lips now sounds like a threat. His flirting and smiles have long changed to grunts, exasperation, and impatience.

  I flex my fingers and let my eyes slip shut. I do as he’s been instructing me the last two hours. Concentrate on pulling the power from inside me, gather it in my mind, project destination, and release. He snaps at me, says the magic is meant to be contained, not exposed. Whatever that means. I snap back. I’m sure if we continue, we’ll shred each other to pieces.

  I glance at the meadow, the cows grazing several feet away, the silhouette of the snow-capped Alps at a distance. Zig shifted us to a field in Tirol. He said the serenity would help me concentrate. Not really. The water trickling against stones close by makes me want to pee. Plus, the soft tinkle of the bells around the cows’ necks is like a lullaby. I never thought it would be so difficult learning to shift. I’ve been looking forward to learning this, to shifting and visiting places.

  Zig sighs heavily. “Come on. I’ll take you home.” I shuffle forwards, pick up my rucksack, and clamp my hand over his. “Now, concentrate. Do you feel anything?” I close my eyes, and try to feel. I don’t, but nod anyway, just to get him to shut up about the lessons already. “Now, I’ll focus on my destination and let go.”

  Yay, my bed, finally. One more thing, though. “Can I ask you for a favour?” He pauses mid-shift and looks down at me. “I need to check on someone urgently.”

  Immediately the tiredness flees, replaced by the light that appears in his eyes when he’s about to tease me. He lifts an eyebrow. I give him the address. The other eyebrow shoots up. “And here I thought we’re paying lover boy a surprise visit. Spit the details.”

  “She’s my tattooist. I need some touch-ups.”

  He frowns at my wrists. “They look—”

  “Are you going to take me or not?” I snap at him, jerking my hand from his.

  Zig lifts his hands, palms facing me. “Easy there, lovely. Don’t go tigerish on me.” He looks away, debating my request. He nods and holds his hand out again.

  We hover in the hallway. An elderly lady holding a leash attached to a dog that seems to have just about three hairs on its entire body exits a nearby flat and stops beside us. She glares, lips pinched. When I extend my hand and pretend to knock on Zaynab’s door, she hobbles away on legs too steady for her age. From behind closed doors, dogs bark and cats meow, but no children’s voices on the whole floor. One time I heard two young women discussing the fact that Austrians possess more pets than they have children. Sometimes I think it’s true. I shake the thoughts and turn to Zig. “No one’s answering.”

  “There’s only one way to do this.” His gaze darts up and down the hallway, and he grasps my hand. Before I breathe out, we’re inside Zaynab’s flat.

  “You can’t just shift us inside someone’s room, Zig. It’s like breaking and entering.”

  One eyebrow shoots up. “You wanted to check on your tattooist, right? We’re here.” He sweeps a hand dramatically. My grumbling dies in my throat. He has a point, but still. After looking around the lifeless space, he says, “Traces of magic already faded. I’d say no one’s been here the last two days.”

  “Traces of magic?”

  He nods. “The one you’re looking for—people like us can be traced by magic. You have traces as well.”

  I run the words over in my mind. “Zaynab, is she like us us? She can shift?”

  He frowns as if he realises he’d said something odd. “There are traces. So I can only assume she is like us.”

  I look around for the umpteenth time. For something, a clue, anything. The room is the same as how Lea and I left it.

  We leave, and appear in my room. I toss my rucksack on the floor. “Did you find anything, um… about Rolf?”

  Zig seems startled by my question. “N-no.” He clears his throat and looks away, quickly adding, “Listen, I’ll pick you up at eleven for the dinner. Get some sleep. I plan to work some lessons with you before we leave.”

  As soon as Zig leaves, I collapse face down on top of the bed, push my introduction to Afterworld society to the back of my head and pull the memory of those tinkling bells at the meadow.

  THE NUMBERS IN THE ALARM CLOCK on the nightstand change to eleven p.m. Half an hour ago, Mom, carrying a plate of tomato and chicken sandwich, stopped by to check how I was doing after I missed dinner. After a satisfactory “Mom, I’m just tired of all the studying for my finals,” Mom hugged me and left. Now the house is silent. Everyone’s gone to bed. The more I lie to my parents, the heavier the guilt threatens to choke me.

  I text him to ask how he’s doing and if we’re still on for tomorrow’s math tutoring then breathe in. Push every last negative thought from my mind. Breathe out.

  I focus on the mirror, twist the two braids together, pin them on the back of my head, and tug the curls on my temples with my fingers. I scrutinize my white and black swathed figure—as Grim instructed, it’s a “white and black only” dinner affair. The sleeveless, white beaded gown cascades down, hugs my hips, and pools around my feet. The black sash around my waist makes it look slender. At least I look taller than my usual 5’2” with the black heels covered by the gown. Lastly I tug the bodice up, but it bounces back, displaying a generous amount of cleavage.

  “You look beautiful.”

  I spin around. Zig leans against the windowpane, looking stunning in his white button-up shirt and sharp three-piece suit with the vest buttoned up. His eyes are so blue they seem to be lit by fire from within. Today his blond hair is not bound behind his neck. It cascades in waves around his shoulders, giving him a dashing look.

  I smooth my trembling hands on the silk-chiffon material. “Stop staring at me like that. You’re making me even more nervous.”

  “Can’t help myself.” He extends his arm. “Are you ready for some lessons before the ball?”

  I nod, grab the black clutch bag on my bed, and slip my arm around the crook of his arm. I have been practising since I woke up from my nap. At least I made it to the foot of my bed. Which isn’t so bad.

  We shift and appear on a flatland. I glance around and see he didn’t take us
very far. We are outside my house. It’s dark, and most houses in the area have their lights off.

  Zig rubs his hands together. “Let’s see if you remember today’s shifting lesson.”

  ***

  Fifty-five minutes later we head to the Afterworld. “You ready for your introduction to the citizens and guests of the Afterworld?”

  “Don’t you have any calming words for me?” He shakes his head and grins. If Zig’s hand wasn’t holding mine securely, I’d have crumbled with nervousness.

  We halt outside a gigantic structure—no, the looming thing is a castle, which I can only assume is Grim’s. During the course of soul transferring in the soul chamber, Grim never even once offered to show me his castle. I wonder if he was offended after our conversation about living in the underworld.

  Taking a step back, I tilt my head up, letting my eyes glide up, then right and left. Orange-gold lights glow from arched windows and witch-hat style turrets. Different scents from the rambling gardens soak the night air. Pebbled paths illuminated by lights, which look like fireflies, snake through the garden, diverging in different directions. In the middle of what looks like acres of flowers, is a fountain with water bubbling softly in the quiet night. A huge black gate is flanked by two massive stone pillars. I frown. There’s no visible fence to justify the use of that gate.

  “Impressive,” I say, squinting to look at the landscape shrouded by the night. If there are any buildings, or houses, I can’t tell in the dark, just the rise and fall of land which I assume are mountains. Something flickers in the distance, but I’m immediately distracted by what looks like a wall or a partition to our right. The hair on the nape of my neck curls, as I watch shadows writhe from within. It lights up every few seconds before going dark again. I look at Zig. “What is this place?”

  “Everywhere and nowhere. Accessed from any point in the world. And that…” He points to the right.. “is the Shadow Realm. Anything that lives in there is a product of banishment from all realms. Yours, mine, and others.” His gaze drops to his shiny black shoes, but not before I catch the pain in them.

  Banishment? From who? Why? Does he know someone who’s in there?

  Zig takes a deep breath, and tugs my hand. “Come on. We don’t want to keep everyone waiting, do we?”

  “Give me a minute. I need—I need to breathe. Please.” I take huge breaths.

  Zig rubs my back, murmuring, “You’ll be fine.”

  Minutes later, we stroll through the heavy wooden Gothic arched door and into a deserted hallway. It stretches endlessly, illuminated by sconces shaped like a snarling dragon’s mouth, spitting out orange-yellow flames. Every time I glance at Zig, his eyebrows are pulled down and he seems distracted. I cling to his arm, letting my feet carry me forwards. Shadows dance along the walls, as I huddle closer to Zig.

  At the end of the hallway, we turn right. Immediately, a cacophonous rise and fall of voices bursts from a room ahead of us and slams into my ears. I look at Zig. He smiles in reassurance.

  “Feeling gentlemanly today, eh?” I laugh and clutch his arm harder to stop myself from fleeing.

  “Always a gentleman. Sad you never noticed. Ready to go in?” I shake my head. Zig’s closed mouth approach about the dinner details didn’t help at all. I’m beginning to think, in order to learn how things work, I’ll have to fend for myself. Mostly.

  I take a breath and nod. This time his smile touches his now twinkling eyes, and I know what the next thing to come out of his mouth will be.

  “Wait until they see…” His eyes trail from my head. “Ernest’s sexy Novice. They’ll drool.” I roll my eyes, and follow him inside. As soon as we step into the room—a vast space, filled with rows and rows of dinner tables, crammed full with what I can only guess are the dinner guests—silence descends upon the room. A sea of curious faces and wide eyes zoom in on us. The last chords of music hang in the air, then fade. They look so human. I expected different. Unless…

  “Just a warning. They’re wearing a Charm. Grim instructed them so you wouldn’t be scared the first time.”

  “A Charm?”

  “Yeah. Sort of like a transparent bed sheet that fits to their bodies. Only this is magic, removable.”

  What do they look like behind that “bed sheet”? My heart sprints a marathon in my chest as I try to look normal. As if being stared at by hundreds of eyes was normal. I squint, trying to adjust my eyes to the blinding brightness of what looks like a three thousand candle chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. The tables are decked with black and gold.

  “Told you you’d stun everyone speechless.” Zig’s breath tickles my neck as he whispers in my ear. “Ah, night of wonders. I’ve never seen this crowd quiet. Tonight might just be the lucky night I get the kiss I’ve craved for so long.”

  “I’m trying not to crumble to ash here. You’re not helping,” I mutter through clenched teeth.

  A chair scrapes across the intricately designed white and green marble floor. My eyes, along with the rest of the dinner crowd, shift simultaneously in the direction of the sound. Grim strides towards us, all business, impeccably dressed in a dark suit, pristine white button-up shirt, and bow tie. His dark hair is sleeked back, bringing the sharp angles of his high cheekbones in stark relief.

  “Ana.” Grim holds his hands palms up. I pull from Zig and place mine on Grim’s. After assessing me from head to foot with a small smile, he turns to face the dinner guests. “May I present, my Novice.”

  I almost jump ten feet as sudden applause blasts the air, which had been quiet moments ago. The ground trembles as hands clap and feet stamp on the floor, accompanied by grunts, snorts, and blood-curdling wails. I’m glad the creatures are wearing Charms. With such disharmony of voices, I’m in no hurry to see their faces.

  Swallowing hard, I turn to Zig. Am I supposed to twirl? Bow? Curtsy? He shrugs, smiling.

  Finally the clamour dies down. Without another word, Grim strides back to his seat. Eyes follow after him, swinging back to me in intervals, like they’re torn between keeping their eyes on me and trailing after Grim.

  Am I supposed to follow him? Or remain here, resembling a lost lamb while I suffer the weight of the curious, hungry eyes?

  Zig takes my hand and tucks it around his arm. I send him a silent thank you. We follow Grim. My eyes drop to the floor and concentrate on not shrinking into Zig with his confident stride.

  “Chin up, Ana. You are Grim Reaper’s Novice. Show no shame. Show no fear. Be proud.” Zig sounds like those managers who prep models before throwing them into the lion’s den on the runaway.

  “Easy for you to say,” I mutter, holding my head high and my back straight.

  He chuckles.

  ***

  Zig and I settle ourselves opposite Grim. Doors burst open as servers roll out carts full of food. A man—I think—scuttles past me, hind legs trying to catch up with the front as he places plates, which look like they are made of gold, in front of the guests. A ghost sails above, humming and dropping what looks like rolls on plates with impressive accuracy. Across the table, a man with hypnotic dark eyes and mussed up hair winks at me. How does he look behind that Charm? Does he have big teeth? Bulging eyes? For a moment, Rikar’s image flashes through my mind. I shudder.

  I nudge Zig with my elbow. “Who are all these—” Not certain what to call them, I gesture with a sweep of my hand. “Are they from the Afterworld?” Before I wrench my eyes from the veiled faces to Zig, I catch the man from across the table staring at me with glowing eyes. He smiles—or what I think is a smile. For a second, his Charm slips and I catch a glimpse of an old tree trunk with vines and grass, which look like tentacles covering his face. The Charm falls back into place like a curtain, barring my eyes from that hideous face.

  “The Forest Lord,” Zig says.

  I turn to Zig. “The what?”

  “Leshy, the protector of forests.” He leans closer to me. “Rumour has it he loves to haul pretty women to his lair.” He w
iggles his eyebrows.

  I clutch the table. “Really?”

  Zig nods, his face serious. “And I hear he is really good to the women. In fact,” he says as he starts to rise to his feet, “I was thinking of getting some tips from him.”

  “Really?”

  Zig’s mouth widens into a grin. He slumps back on his seat laughing. “Gods, you should have seen your face. Priceless.”

  I exhale, trying to slow my racing heart. “Gosh, Zig, you’re a horrible person.”

  “No, I’m not.” He wipes tears from his eyes. “Besides, you love my wicked humour, lovely.”

  Unable to resist, I chuckle. I am sort of getting used to his humour.

  His laughter fades. “You have to be careful, though. Most of the creatures here might be friendly inside the castle, but outside the gates, you are fair game. Grim enjoys playing host and invites anyone who can listen, and they flock in droves. Who can refuse a good, free dinner, right? One other thing, lovely.” His gaze is so intense fear buries itself in every crevice of my body. “Never ever get anywhere close to the partition we saw outside. It separates the two Realms. Shadow and Light.”

  I swallow, unable to breathe.

  “I’ve seen that wall suck people in, and believe me…” He blows out a breath. “…it’s not fun.”

  Oh, I’m not in a hurry to go exploring anytime soon.

  Something nudges my right arm. I turn and a well-toned hand places soup in front of me. As he withdraws his hand, it brushes along my exposed skin and I shiver. I look up and wish I hadn’t.

  Black eyes, framed by equally dark lashes on a golden-skin face. And his lips. Sweet baby Jesus! Full lips curl into a smile, promising unimaginable things I’ve only read in those hot romances I usually “borrow” from Mom.

  “Cut it out, Levi,” Zig growls. Levi’s eyes lazily drift over to Zig, then back at me. He bows and leaves without a word.

  I breathe out, brushing a hand over my face. Are there more Levis hanging around? Because this place could easily resemble Sodom and Gomorrah. “Who is he?” My voice sounds breathless, and my body’s still trying to bottle some wild emotions raging through me.