Grim Lost: A reaper's tale (Reaper Files Book 3)

by Nicky Graves

  “Hey,” I said. “We’re a winning team too.”

  Ranger frowned. “Not quite.”

  “The reapers will follow the elders’ lead,” Lawson said.

  “You think they will?” I asked.

  Lawson shrugged. “It’s not that they might agree with the decision, but if reapers are given an order by the elders, they tend to obey it.”

  We all looked at each other, knowing the outcome would not be good.

  “Then who is left?” I asked. “Do we continue to look for stones? Or do we look for people to sway to our side? Lucifer said I could somehow forge a scythe. Do we want to look into that angle?”

  “I don’t trust anything Lucifer says,” Lawson said. “I might be able to sway some of the reapers, but it won’t be easy, especially after our last battle with Azrael. And I’m not sure how many could be trusted. It would be simple for the elders to slip in some spies.”

  “What about you, Ranger?” I asked. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “I’m in the same boat as Lawson. There might be a few cambions I can call on, but if they’ve sworn their allegiance to Lucifer, they might be more of a liability than an asset.”

  “Is there anyone else we can call on?” I asked. “Anyone who isn’t a demon or reaper?”

  “The guardians,” Ranger said.

  “But we haven’t heard from the guardians for centuries,” Lawson said. “Many think they’re extinct.”

  “If there’s a chance they are out there, we should take it,” Ranger said. “They could help us.”

  “Until then, it sounds like the three of us are on our own,” I said.

  “Well, we have at least one other person we can count on,” Lawson said.

  It was then that Boomer appeared in the living room. His hair still looked as if he had walked through a tornado.

  “Boomer is the person?” I asked. Any thoughts of possible survival died instantly.

  “Hey, I’m not thrilled about this either,” Boomer said. “I had plans for a longer immortal life. I was going to do things.”

  I didn’t want to know what those things were.

  “And one more person,” Ranger said.

  I was hoping for someone with knowledge of how to take down Azrael or Lucifer, but the man who appeared next was not either of those.

  Vance glared at us. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I scanned the motley crew assembled in Lawson’s living room.

  We were doomed.

  The plan wasn’t great. In fact, it was barely a plan at all. But at least I was now away from the others. Only Wiltone and Treble kept me company.

  Lawson went to look for signs of the guardians. Ranger was figuring out Lucifer’s true motive in all of this. Boomer, who had as much tact as a two-year-old, was trying to sway some of the reapers to our side.

  And Vance was working with the vampires. I didn’t know exactly what that entailed, especially since they tended to embrace the dark side of Lucifer. But they also hated the reapers enough that they wouldn’t want a union between the Grim Reaper and Lucifer. Vance had said that might be enough to get them to stay neutral. I supposed being neutral was better than nothing.

  My job was to find the remaining stones.

  Not an easy task. If I knew where the stones were, I’d have them by now.

  However, with the discovery of the green stone and learning that a person could harness its energy to make something work—like a machine that creates a creepy facsimile of heaven—I researched other possible scenarios for stones being used in a similar fashion.

  As of right now, the orange, purple, and yellow stones were unaccounted for.

  As I sat at the library table, I wondered if I’d find any useful information. I had little hope. The librarian had thus far made me want to bludgeon myself several times.

  Wiltone sat across the table from me, while Treble still resided inside me. I could feel his annoyance at having to come to the library again. On that score, we agreed.

  “Librarian, do you know of any realms that are being held together by a life stone?” I asked.

  “No information found,” he said.

  “Are there any stories about stones being used to make extraordinary things?”

  “No information found.”

  And so it continued. Once again, I was wasting precious time talking to the librarian.

  “Librarian,” Wiltone said, “are there any stories about places that heal the sick?”

  “There are 100,950 stories found.”

  “That would take us forever to weed through,” I said.

  Wiltone shook her head. “We might be able to cut it down. Librarian, are there any stories from within the last one hundred years?”

  “There are 972 stories.”

  “What about in the last twenty years?” Wiltone asked.

  “341.”

  “What about just this year?” I asked.

  “Twenty-nine stories,” the librarian said.

  “Librarian, out of those twenty-nine, how many of those might actually be true stories?” Wiltone asked.

  “Information unknown.”

  “Out of those stories, which is most plausible?” I asked, wondering if word choice would help getting any information from the librarian.

  “Unknown.”

  “We might have to research these twenty-nine stories ourselves,” I said.

  “We’ll get a list from him in a second,” Wiltone said. “Remember when you and Lawson found a possible lead somewhere in Asia? Let’s try to dig a little deeper on that one. Librarian, are there any stories about places or structures that make people cry or cause intense sorrow?”

  “There are three known locations.”

  “And how many of those are from within the last year?” I asked.

  “One.”

  “And where is that?” I asked.

  “Nepal, Earth.”

  “That would be in Asia.” I glanced at Wiltone. “Did we just find the location of the purple stone?”

  “Librarian, where in Nepal?” Wiltone asked.

  “The stories originate from Junzi near the Hiunchuli mountain.”

  “And in the story, what does it say makes people cry? Is it a building or statue or something else?” Wiltone asked.

  “Unknown.”

  I stood. “Well, I guess we should go check it out.”

  Within moments, we shifted. Since I had never been to Nepal, it took a few tries to shift close enough to walk the rest of the distance. But in less than twenty minutes, we found Junzi. Colorful prayer flags hung throughout the town, making it a picturesque scene. The browns and greens of the mountainous landscape enveloped the area.

  I made several attempts to talk to locals who passed us. Trying to get information from those who did not speak English was not going smoothly.

  “Is there something here that makes people cry?” I asked again. I mimicked trying to cry, but the elderly woman that I had stopped looked at me as though I might have lost my mind. I looked at Wiltone. “You don’t happen to speak this language, do you?”

  “No. If you remember, I spent most of my time as an accessory to Juliette. Anyway, I tend to speak the language of love. That doesn’t need words,” she said with a grin. “Do you have your phone on you?”

  “Yes, why?” I asked.

  “Use it to translate,” Wiltone said.

  And this was why I was never the leader for any school projects. I tended to miss the obvious. I took out my phone and saw the battery was dead.

  “You’d think the reapers would have enough technology to figure out an everlasting battery,” I said, annoyed.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out,” Wiltone said.

  I was about to continue walking through the village with its colorful flags and prayer wheels when something jabbed me from the inside. Pain that I had never experienced before brought tears to my eyes. The elderly woman, startled at my sudden tears, pointed to a pathway on her left
. She then hobbled away as fast as she could.

  As I doubled over in pain, Wiltone smiled down at me. “I think she figured out what you were trying to ask her.”

  “My appendix burst.”

  “No, that was Treble being helpful.”

  “I’m going to die.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Wiltone said. “You’re immortal.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m dying,” I said, clutching my middle.

  “Treble, you can stop now.”

  After a few moments, the pain subsided, and I was able to straighten.

  “Thanks, Treble,” I muttered. I knew Treble was trying to help in his own way, but I also had the feeling he was getting a stab of revenge on me for giving Cassoon to Lucifer.

  I followed Wiltone as she walked in the direction the woman had pointed. We headed out of the village, past signs with do-not-enter symbols on them.

  As we walked farther from the village, the path ended. But I knew we were going the right way. Sorrow built inside of me. Sorrow at having to walk away from my family and friends. Sorrow at never being able to live a normal life. Sorrow that I was probably going to die at the hands of Azrael and Lucifer. Sorrow that I couldn’t get Ranger a body he wanted. Sorrow because I couldn’t even get a guy to like me without having to rope him into a claim.

  “Hang in there, Riley,” Wiltone said. “I can feel what you’re feeling. And based on what you’re feeling, we’re almost there. And, sorry, but it will probably get more intense the closer we get to the stone.”

  Tears stung the back of my eyes as I tried not to cry. “I want to go home.”

  “We have to keep going. We don’t have a choice.”

  “It’s not worth it,” I said. “None of this is worth it. I might as well just surrender to Azrael. I don’t have the reapers on my side. The guardians are dead. What’s the use?”

  “You’ll feel better once we get the stone. Just keep moving.”

  Even though I shook my head, I kept walking. But every step was a battle to not succumb to overwhelming grief. My mind wanted to give up. My body felt as though it was weighed down by the anguish of the world.

  “It’s just the stone defending itself,” Wiltone said. “That’s why you feel so tormented.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It repels people from getting too close.”

  I kept walking, but even an overgrown meadow filled with the prettiest wildflowers didn’t cheer me up.

  The meadow gave way to a steep slope down into a ravine.

  “It’s down there,” Wiltone said.

  A slight trickle of water flowed through the ravine, but I didn’t see anything else. Certainly not a life stone.

  “There’s nothing here,” I said when we reached the bottom.

  “It has to be here,” she said.

  “Can you communicate with it?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. It’s using its energy to repel.”

  “Treble, do you have any thoughts?” I asked.

  He didn’t bother responding.

  I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. I really, really wanted to leave. Instead, I sat on the ground and took a breath.

  I could do this.

  No, I couldn’t.

  “Yes, you can,” Wiltone said, reading my thoughts.

  “Stop doing that,” I said.

  “You’ll feel better when you find the stone and bond with it. Then Treble and I can help balance it.”

  “But where is it?” I asked.

  “Let’s start walking and see if we can find it by noting how strong your reaction is.”

  Sounded horrible.

  “Come on. The longer you sit here, the worse it will get.”

  I pushed up off the ground and stood.

  Wiltone began strolling downstream, but something eased inside of me and I knew we had to go upstream. I turned around to walk the other way.

  After clearing a bend in the ravine, I stopped.

  “What are you doing?” Wiltone asked.

  I wiped my tear-soaked eyes with my sleeve again and looked to my left. The ravine wall was overgrown with vines and plant life. Much more so than the rest of the area.

  Clearing away some of the vines, I saw the opening to a cavern.

  “I think you found it,” Wiltone said.

  Hesitantly, I walked in, following a natural path that cut into the mountainside. The small cavern gave way to a larger one that was closed off by a rusted fence.

  “It must be in there,” Wiltone said.

  It wasn’t the fence that clued me in; it was the tears that I couldn’t seem to wipe away fast enough before more took their place.

  I’d need a tub of ice cream after this cry session.

  “Treble, can you help with the fence?” I asked, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

  “I don’t think we need his help,” Wiltone said. She barely pushed on the fence and it fell. It was nothing more than rusted metal.

  “I guess nobody comes here to maintain it,” she said.

  “Judging from the village woman’s reaction, they fear this place,” I said. “And I understand why.”

  Wiltone went in first. Thankfully, she was completely unaffected by the stone, while I blubbered all the way to the back of the cave. Although it was dark, a purple glow filled the gloomy space. The light filtered through a mound of rocks. Did the villagers bury the stone?

  “It must be under those rocks,” Wiltone said. She headed over to try to shift some of the rubble.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” a voice called from the darkness. It was a young voice, that of a boy.

  I looked for the source. My gaze landed on a shadowy figure sitting on a large rock nearby. I couldn’t make out his details, but his slight build made me suspect he was barely eight, if that.

  Why wasn’t he reduced to tears like I was?

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  He gave a little shrug.

  I walked closer. “You don’t know who you are? Or you don’t want to tell us?”

  He gave another little shrug.

  Wondering what the child would do, I turned to the mound that the purple light emanated from and began shoving rocks away.

  The boy moved closer.

  “We need to get the stone that’s buried under all of these rocks,” Wiltone said to the boy. “Can you help us?”

  He shook his head. “The villagers hate the stone. They hid it here for a reason. They won’t like that you’re trying to free it.”

  “I know,” Wiltone said. “But once the stone bonds with Riley, the villagers won’t have to worry about the stone anymore.”

  The boy shook his head. “It’s safer here.”

  “But we know of a place that’s better,” Wiltone said.

  As she tried to reason with him, I continued moving rocks. With each rock, my misery welled.

  It was unbearable, but I was so close. I couldn’t give up.

  My breath grew ragged, and my arms shook with exertion.

  Blue smoke began swirling around me, cocooning me. A bit of the pain subsided.

  “Thank you, Treble.”

  I used the hem of my shirt to wipe away more tears. The material was becoming soaked with the salty drops.

  Smoke twirled into a funnel, growing stronger until it began tossing rocks off the pile, blasting them into the damp cavern wall.

  With every rock that was tossed, the boy grew more and more agitated. His body trembled, and the purple that had been emanating from the rock pile was being pulled into him like a vacuum.

  I stopped, realizing that the rocks had been a decoy.

  This small boy was Tubron the Purple.

  15

  I slowly walked over to the boy, not wanting to frighten him. But I needed to get closer. If I was able to touch him, then I’d be able to bond with him.

  “Take my hand,” I said to him.

  He shook his head. “The villagers won’t like that.”

  “I
don’t care about the villagers,” I said. “If they get mad, they can get mad at me.”

  As I grew closer, I noticed scars on him. They littered his arms, neck, and face. They all glowed like deep purple veins.

  “How did you get the scars?” I asked.

  “From the villagers,” he said. “They hate me.”

  I glanced at Wiltone. “Can mortals harm life stones?”

  “In a way. But not like this. These scars are from his pain.”

  While I didn’t blame the villagers for fearing this boy who caused immense sorrow, I did blame them for banishing him here and hurting him. I felt that suffering from deep down inside him.

  As I held my hand out for him to take, purple scars began running up my arms like vines. A feeling of hot knives slashing my skin made me want to pull away.

  “Just hold my hand,” I said. “I can make you feel better.”

  “Nobody can make me feel better.”

  I was only about ten feet away from him at this point. Scars continued etching across my skin.

  Between the sadness he was causing and the pain from the scars, I couldn’t take much more. I dashed the last few feet and grasped his arm. He struggled against me, and I was barely able to keep hold.

  Treble and Wiltone returned to my body, giving me their strength. With the three of us, eventually the boy quieted down, stopped struggling, and the light that glowed purple in him transferred to me.

  He watched as it happened, as his scars melted away. I sensed a sort of peace growing inside of him.

  The tears that had been streaming down my face subsided.

  I took a breath and then smiled at him. “Let’s go home,” I said.

  We held hands, and I shifted back to my pod.

  I knew I should check in with Lawson and Ranger, but at this point, I was too exhausted.

  Falling into bed, I promptly fell asleep as Wiltone tsked over Tubron’s threadbare clothes.

  I had no idea what time it was, but I was still groggy from sleep when I cracked my eyes open and saw Vance staring down at me. He smirked.

  Ignoring Vance, I sat up, wiped the sleep from my eyes and glanced over at the little boy who was sitting on the bed playing with a toy car. The black shorts and white button-down shirt he wore looked new.