by S. C. Green
“True.” Diana hugged the kitten tighter. “Still, I wish you—”
“Hey, Red.”
It was Dorien’s voice. I turned toward the door, but he wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to Diana.
“Red?” Since when did Diana have a nickname?
“Sure.” Dorien grinned at me. “Red for her beautiful hair, and red for the blood of her victims.”
Diana giggled. Dorien pulled the parcel from under his arm. It was his long black coat, bundled up. He unrolled it and removed a small aluminium can, which he handed to Diana.
“Oh, wow,” Diana breathed as she ran her tiny hands over the surface. “What is this?”
“We call it ‘soda.’” Dorien grinned. “I stole it from the elders’ private stash. I thought you deserved a little treat.”
I stared down at the can. Junk food and soda hadn’t been present in the Rim for at least seven years. All the vending machines, supermarkets, and convenience stores had been looted long ago, and the few cans of the stuff still in circulation fetched such a high price on the black market they were out of reach for anyone in the Rim. The fact that Dorien could just casually hand over a can showed me just how powerful the Reapers were. That uneasy feeling crept at the edges of my mind again.
Dorien showed Diana how to pull open the tab and sip the sugary drink. Her face lit up.
“It’s bubbly!” she announced.
Dorien mussed Diana’s hair in a big-brotherly fashion.
“Thank you,” I said.
“It’s nothing. I want Diana to be comfortable. She’s a brave kid.”
I eased a little. Since Dorien had seemed to take a liking to her, he would help keep her safe while I was away battling wraiths.
“Will you teach me to fly like a bird?” Diana asked Dorien between sips.
“Flying is easy. It’s the landing that’s tricky.” He laughed. “I’ve informed Malcolm of your presence,” he said to me. “You’re welcome to remain in the Compound for a few days, as long as you stay confined to this cloister and don’t go anywhere without a Reaper escort. Malcolm is already suspicious about Alain’s actions. He believes he might try to do something rash. Perish the thought.” Dorien looked me up and down, his head nodding slightly.
Was he approving of Alain’s choice or mocking me? “I thought I’d be receiving more permanent assistance.”
“You will be, after you bring back May. We’ll make sure you and Diana are looked after. But for now, we have to make it look like we’re playing by Malcolm’s rules.”
“Are all Reapers this vague?”
He grinned wickedly. “It’s a coping mechanism. We don’t make promises we can’t keep. They can just be interpreted in many different ways.”
“Who’s this Malcolm, anyway?” I asked.
“The current head of our Order. He’s an extremely old, powerful Reaper. He’s made the journey to the underworld many thousands of times. He is also head of the Reaper Council, and the man who made the final decision about May. So it goes without saying he isn’t exactly in Alain’s good books right now. Hence why I’m doing the talking for him.”
“And who exactly are you?”
“A friend, probably the only one you’ll find in this place, as long as you’re working for Alain. Most Reapers agree with Malcolm that the Mimir is not worth the exchange of May. There are some—those who were betrothed to May, for instance—who would love to get her back, but they’re too afraid to stand up to Malcolm and his followers. But that may soon change.”
“Are you and Alain plotting something?”
There was that wicked grin again. “Alain isn’t plotting anything except the safe return of his daughter. I’m trying to make sure she, and he, remain safe.”
“There you go with that vagueness again.”
“Alain is like a brother to me. An older brother, you know, the kind that beats you up and steals all your toys.” He shrugged. “We’ve been through a lot together. I love May as though she were my own daughter. I want her back safely just as much as Alain. I have some sway with the Reapers, and I do what I can.”
“And you’ll look after Diana while I’m gone?” And if I don’t come back? The question hung in the air, unspoken, but understood.
“Of course. Red and I will have some fun.” Dorien moved to the end of the bed, his fingers grazing over my shoulder in a familiar way as he passed by me. He lifted the trunk at the end of the bed and removed some blankets and pillows. “You two will sleep in this room. Alain will bunk in my quarters with me until we can find you more suitable accommodations.”
This was Alain’s room? I glanced around the bare walls and sparse furniture, seeing it all with a different light. “I can’t believe he sleeps in here. There’s no pictures, no personality, nothing of comfort.”
Even though the flat I shared with Diana was little more than a hovel, we’d decorated it with drawings, photographs, and chimes Diana made from old, twisted bits of metal.
“Reapers don’t place much stock in those things. Alain especially. There’s not much in the past he cares to remember. He keeps his only picture of May and her mother hidden away in a drawer.” Dorien stood. “I hear Alain returning with food for you. After you’ve eaten, he’ll want to start your training. You have a lot to learn before you make your assault into the Citadel.”
“Oh, goody,” I said and sighed. “I can’t wait.”
AFTER A MEAL of fresh bread and a delicious vegetable broth, I left Diana and Blackie playing chess with Dorien and followed Alain to another courtyard in the Compound. This one was much busier, with several Reapers milling about in the open air, their black coats fluttering in the breeze. Harsh, birdlike eyes followed me, and conversations died away as I followed Alain into another dark hall.
“You’d think they’d never seen a human woman before,” I whispered to Alain as we passed a row of locked rooms.
I ran my fingers along the wall, glimpsing the interiors of the rooms. They appeared to be mainly storage with metal shelves stacked high with boxes of supplies and mechanical parts.
“Some of them have seen far too many women,” Alain said, his tone flat. “Just never during the daylight.”
“That was cryptic. You’re kind of an expert at that.”
“It was. I’m sorry. It’s rare we bring humans back to the Compound.” His eyes darted from one end of the hall to the other … checking for other Reapers, perhaps? “We like to keep ourselves to ourselves. There are a lot of secrets we’re trying to protect.” He pushed open a door. “In here.”
He ushered me inside an enormous room. The ceiling rose twice the height of a normal room, and exposed wooden beams crisscrossed its length. One whole wall was made of high glass windows overlooking the main courtyard. Outside, Reapers ambled around the entrance, and a row of ravens hopped along the solar panels on the roof. The other wall held racks of exercise equipment, ropes, electronic targets, and strange weapons.
“What are we doing here?” I glanced around, taking it all in. It looked a little bit like the Crossfit gym I used to frequent back before the city was closed in.
“This is our training room,” Alain explained. “We use it to test new weapons and fighting techniques to combat the wraith. I’ve brought you here to learn some skills that will help you get in and out of the Citadel alive.”
“How very thoughtful of you,” I said, my sarcasm cranked to full drip.
“I’ll be going with you, but I’ll be in my bird form since it’s more powerful. You’ll need to operate your weapon yourself. These are some of the most sophisticated weapons for fighting the wraith we’ve developed. It’s up to you to choose which ones you’re most comfortable using.”
“So you can kill a wraith?”
Alain shook his head. “They’re undead. No matter how many times we bring them to the underworld, they keep coming back here. But you can stop them temporarily.”
Alain picked up a large silver gun from the rack and tossed it to
me.
“This is a particle weapon,” he explained. “Wraiths are creatures made of energy. They exist on a frequency different from ours, which is why they pass right through matter unless they’re trying to drain its energy. This weapon’s beam disrupts their frequency and brings them into our world. They become briefly solid, which means you can injure them with a normal weapon. It won’t stop them on its own, but it will slow them down.”
“Useful.” I examined the strange weapon.
The long silver barrel had vents down each side, and instead of a magazine, it had a series of buttons and a battery gauge. As I ran my hand over the stock, the internal structure of the weapon became visible in my mind: a small particle generator, a battery bank, and a lens. This was so sophisticated. Where did they get all the parts for these guns?
“You need to charge the weapon here.” He plugged the barrel, battery gauge pointed up, into a dashboard along the wall. “Have you fired a gun before?”
I ticked my gaze toward the ceiling. “I live in the Rim.”
“Right, stupid question.” Alain flicked a switch in a panel on the wall. Black curtains rolled down over the windows, bathing the room in darkness. “But I bet you’ve never shot a wraith before.”
I didn’t bother answering. No one in the Rim could afford weapons that could hurt the wraith. Alain turned back to the panel and flicked a series of switches. There was a whirring sound, and then a familiar hiss from behind me. I whirled around, and my blood turned cold.
A wraith pulled itself through the wall and shuffled toward me. Its blackened mouth gaped wide as it reached out with emaciated arms. Another inhuman hiss rushed at my ears.
A moan escaped my throat. I’d already done battle with two wraiths today. To see another one, here, where I was supposed to be safe, sucked what little bravado I had left. My body froze, my fingers uncooperative.
Shoot it, I urged myself. Just do it. But I was rooted with fear, already petrified.
The wraith inched closer, its hands outstretched, fingers grazing my chest. In a second, it would plunge its hand inside me, and it would all be over.
“Sydney!” Alain’s sharp voice broke through. “You know what to do.”
I raised the gun with shaking hands and squeezed the trigger. I expected the weapon to kick back, like the guns I’d fired before, but it didn’t. A red beam shot from the end of the barrel and hit the wraith in the middle of its chest. A lattice of light spread from the wound across the wraith’s body. It lowered its hands, its hiss turning into a low moan. I leapt back as it staggered forward, struggling to remain upright.
“Now, get in close and finish it off,” Alain called out, pointing to a rack of swords and daggers.
Fight up-close-and-personal with a wraith? Fuck that.
I grabbed a crossbow from the rack nearest to me, fitted a metal bolt into the chamber, rested the stock against my shoulder, and fired. The bolt arrowed right through the wraith’s neck, slamming it back against the wall. It raised its bony fingers to its throat, clawing at the bolt. But the bolt held tight. The blackened mouth opened wider, screaming, and after a few moments of agonising twitching, it collapsed into a pile of dust.
My head spun as my panic faded, leaving me standing on wobbling legs. Alain flipped the light back on and rushed toward me, catching me just before I collapsed on my knees. His warm hands left a line of fire against my skin.
“Thanks ... for all your help.” I puffed, waiting for my heartrate to return to normal. Alain touching me sure wasn’t helping with that. “How the fuck did a wraith get in here?”
“That wasn’t a wraith. It was a simulation. It’s a training tool we use to make sure we can respond quickly under pressure. You did very well.”
A simulation? It looked so real. I swore I’d felt the wraith’s cold hands scraping against my skin.
“Are you ready to try again?” Alain stroked my cheek, trailing a pleasant tingle right behind his fingers. “There are some other tricks I can show you.”
Other tricks with your fingers? No. Shut up, Sydney. Keep your mind out of the gutter and on the task at hand.
“Can I do that bursting into flames thing you did in the tunnel?” I asked, all business once again.
He shook his head. “Only Reapers can do that, and even then, only if the wraith is weak and hasn’t fed recently. Our powers are becoming less useful the stronger the wraith grow. That’s why I was unable to stop them from taking May.”
“How did it happen?” I asked.
Alain shook his head. “Not now. I’ll explain everything later. Now you need to practice. Try the rapier this time. You should figure out which weapon you feel most comfortable with.”
I’d never held a sword before. My father had his grandfather’s sabre mounted over the fireplace, but like everything else in the house, I was never allowed to touch it. Some of the crime families liked to use swords—bullets being in short supply—but I personally preferred to avoid close combat. There was a much better chance at going home alive if I stayed away from the action. I picked up the blade Alain handed me, testing its weight in my hands. I took a few tentative swings in the air, feeling like a fool.
“I don’t really know what to do with this,” I said.
“Let the blade do the work for you.” He stood behind me, pressing his body against mine as he wrapped his arms around my torso and covered my hand with his.
The air rushed from my lungs as his scent enveloped me. A powerful mix of something musky and woody. It evoked memories of the forests outside the city where I used to sometimes hike. His breath made the hairs on my neck stand on end. Warmth rushed through my body, fanned hotter by my erratic pulse.
Stop it, I ordered myself. This is not the time.
As I adjusted my grip with Alain’s instructions, my mind probed the structure of the weapon. It was much simpler, just layer after layer of folded steel. I watched the atoms dance lazily in my mind’s eye. I liked this blade already. It felt pure, somehow.
Alain dropped my hands. Disappointment surged through me. He went to the wall and pressed a different configuration of switches. This time, two wraiths emerged from the wall and shuffled toward me.
Now that I knew they were just simulations, I rushed forward to meet them with a new boldness. I raised the gun from my hip and fired the beam directly at their chests. The wraith stumbled back, momentarily stunned. I swung at one’s head with the sword. Missed. The momentum threw me off balance.
Cold hands grabbed my shoulders and threw me over. My body twisted, and I went down. I threw out my sword arm so I wouldn’t land on the blade and landed hard on my right shoulder, skidding across the floor. I pulled myself onto my knees and slashed the sword through an approaching wraith. It collapsed into a pile of dust. The other wraith leapt at me, sending us both sailing backward.
As I slammed against the wall, I flung out my hand to take the impact. As my fingers hit the wall, my mind automatically ripped back the layer of cold bricks to reveal a glimpse of the room beyond. It was a storage room like the others I had seen, crowded with boxes and crates. In the middle, with his face pressed up against the wall, was a young Reaper.
What the hell was he doing in there? Listening to something? Making out with the wall?
The wraith wrapped its cold hand around my neck. It pushed bony fingers into my throat. How could this be a simulation? I gasped for air. In a few seconds, I wouldn’t be able to move. The world seemed to move in slow motion. I lifted my sword arm up. It felt as though I was moving through water. I plunged the sword, my whole body twitching. The wraith’s eyes bugged out of its head, and its hands fell from my throat as it toppled backward, my rapier sticking out of its chest. The wraith gave a strangled moan, then crumbled to dust and disappeared as Alain turned off the simulation.
Alain stood over me, offering his hand. Shaken, I took it. As I stood, my gaze studied the wall near where the Reaper was standing on the other side. The mortar between the bricks was old, crumb
ling. There was probably a tiny crack that went right through to the adjacent room. A peephole. We were being watched.
“—almost had him, Sydney. You’ve got to concentrate. This is important.”
I leaned forward and rested my chin on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “Someone is watching us from the next room. There’s a crack in the mortar over my right shoulder.”
Alain made no acknowledgement that he’d heard me. He kept on talking about the wraith. But his eyes flickered across mine. He handed me a crossbow and flicked on the program. The wraith appeared on the far wall, creeping toward me once again.
“Keep practicing this. I’ll be right back.” He moved to the door.
As soon as he was gone, I rushed over and turned off the projection. From the room opposite me, I heard a thud, then voices arguing.
I ran over and pressed my hand against the wall. I could clearly see Alain holding the other Reaper up by the nape of his black shirt, pressing him against the metal storage shelves so he couldn’t escape. I couldn’t see his face, but his whole body tensed with anger.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Cory,” Alain shouted.
“I saw you!” the Reaper squawked, flailing for purchase as Alain held him so high off the ground he was standing on the tips of his toes. “You’re teaching that human to use our weapons. It’s obvious what you’re planning, and I’ll tell Malcolm!”
4
“You’ll do no such thing, Cory,” Alain growled, slamming the other Reaper against the shelves with such force I winced. “You actually came here to threaten me? Do you really think that’s a wise path?”
Cory made to answer, but all he could manage was a strangled sob. His eyes flickered over Alain’s face, wide and terrified. He was taller than Alain by at least a head, which was no mean feat, so the fact Alain had Cory under his power was concerning.
My heart hammered against my chest. I didn’t want to see Alain kill the boy, but I could practically taste the rage radiating off him. With his strength, he would’ve been completely capable. He could’ve hid the body under those boxes, and no one would ever know. No one except me. Why had I come here? What made me think I could trust this man?