“Be safe,” I said to Derek and Sofia, then left the eastern tower. Thayen was up there somewhere, keeping busy with Amal, Rose, and Caleb as they proceeded with the day-walking cure tests. Amal was in the process of speeding up the cure’s distribution and effectiveness, hoping to reduce the timeframe from several days to mere hours.
I had taken my own shot, as well, and I’d been given a couple more to carry with me and administer to myself in case I couldn’t get back to Amal in time—the same protocol had been established for Rose and Caleb, too. It was imperative that the treatment wasn’t interrupted once I’d begun. I looked forward to my life changing forever. It made me hate Danika and the Darklings even more—the day-walking cure was supposed to be our crowning achievement, yet we couldn’t even relish this moment.
Evening drew close, darkening the skies. There was rain coming from the north, and thick gray clouds rolled toward us. Hopefully, it would slow down anyone snooping around Roano. I stopped by my brother’s room in the north tower next. The interdimensional pocket was closed, but I knew he was in there with Valaine, Phantom, and Morning. I wished I could hold him one last time, but that would’ve meant accepting that I was headed to certain death, and it wasn’t the kind of mindset I wanted for myself.
Instead, I just spent a couple of minutes there in absolute silence, wishing Tristan would come back to us soon. My next stop was downstairs, in Kalon’s room. I found Time talking to the Visentis boys. They were asking him all kinds of questions about Reapers and Death, and he was doing his best to answer as clearly and eloquently as possible. Kalon was back in his pocket, submerged in a state of deep sleep. I couldn’t see him either, and that just reinforced my thought that it was better this way, because I was coming back from this alive and in one piece, dammit.
“So you’ve never been on the other side? Where you send the reaped souls, I mean?” Tudyk asked, wide-eyed as he stared at the Time Master, who shook his head in return.
“We’re not allowed. It is not our realm, and it’s not for us to know what exists beyond.”
“How do you know there’s an afterlife, then?” Ansel asked, his brow furrowed.
“I’ve had visits from the other side,” Time replied.
“What?! From whom?” I blurted, suddenly drawn into the conversation. The boys’ heads nearly snapped off as they turned to find me standing in the doorway.
The Reaper chuckled softly. “You see how in the world of the living, you and your GASP ilk have established yourselves as guardians and enforcers of sorts? Your Perfects and Arch-Perfects, your fae and your daemons, your witches and all those other creatures from across three whole dimensions?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“And in the realm between life and the afterlife, the realm of death, you see us Reapers doing more or less the same,” Time continued.
“With added bureaucracy, yeah,” I said, stifling a laugh.
Time shrugged, smiling vaguely. “We never said we were perfect. Anyway, to get back to my point, we now have identified two realms, the living and the dead, and agents who enforce their written and unwritten laws, with the sole purpose of maintaining balance and justice. Correct?”
I nodded, and so did the Visentis boys. I’d come to say goodbye, and I’d ended up in Reaper class. I allowed myself these few minutes, since Time was being remarkably generous by sharing all this information.
“What’s in the afterlife?” Moore asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Well, knowing what’s in these other two realms, wouldn’t it be safe to assume that the afterlife may operate on similar principles?” Time replied. “I can’t tell you what exists beyond death. However, my presence should tell you that death is merely one more stage, and that there is definitely something more. Right?”
We all nodded again.
“Ah. So the visits you mentioned you got from the afterlife. They were from its… enforcers, I guess?” I asked, my mind already blown.
Time smiled broadly. “That is correct.”
“Whoa! What were they like? What are they? Why’d they come to you?” Ansel asked.
“Again, I’m afraid I can’t answer that. But at some point, you will all find out for yourselves. I just wanted you to know there is something beyond death, and that Unending’s liberation will not be the end of you all,” Time said. “She deserves freedom. And you all deserve to live full lives in harmony with the universe’s existing balance.”
“You don’t think Aeternae should exist,” Moore muttered, suddenly sad.
“Not at the expense of my sister’s suffering, no,” Time replied. “I cannot promise she will allow you to remain immortal once she’s free. To be honest, if I were in her shoes, I wouldn’t. But the decision belongs to her. All you can do is be better versions of yourselves and give her good reason to reward you, or at least to spare you.”
“Won’t Death be miffed that you mentioned the afterlife and hinted at elements of it stepping into your realm?” I asked, trying to change the subject. The boys were clearly distraught, and I knew they had trouble accepting that they might not live as immortals once the Unending was free—they were kids, and certain concepts still took some extra time to sink in.
“I don’t really care,” Time said. “To be honest, I’m upset with her. She hid troubling truths from us while she expected blind obedience. In that sense, I can see why Spirit and Unending were so mad at her.”
“Maybe you held her to a higher standard than you should have,” I replied. “No one implied Death was perfect. I don’t think anyone even considered she might be noble or righteous or whatever. For most of us among the living, Death wasn’t even supposed to be sentient.”
Time exhaled sharply, producing Petra’s scythe from behind his back. “She held us to impossible standards, while she went ahead and did some remarkably stupid things. Had she not preached the justness of her ways and her systems, I would’ve left it at that. But her monumental pride got us into this mess. And since I cannot punish her in any way, the least I can do is delude myself with this fleeting moment of intellectual rebellion. You’re right, Death is nowhere near perfect, nor should she be expected to even care about morality and righteousness. Death is Death, and she does not discriminate.” He paused, walking over to me. “That being said, this is yours for now.”
I stared at the scythe for a few moments, trying to understand where he was going with this. My befuddlement made him laugh.
“Esme, you’re going against Danika without a Reaper by your side. You need a bit of an edge, and this will do the trick,” he added.
“You’re all needed here and out in the field with Kale’s team and the Seniors,” I said quietly. “I told Derek I’m better off on my own because Danika won’t expect me coming after her.”
“And I wholeheartedly agree with that premise. But you still need an advantage,” Time said. “This scythe is it. She won’t see this coming, either.”
I hung the pulverizer weapon on my shoulder by its leather strap and took the scythe in my hand. Its silvery grip felt cold against my skin—an unusual chill that moved up my arms and nestled somewhere inside my soul. The curved blade captured specks of light along its sharp edge, and I could see my reflection in it.
“I don’t know any death magic to go with it,” I murmured, suddenly overwhelmed by the scythe’s presence. Despite its size, it seemed larger than life itself, like a weapon of the gods. Something that I, a mere living creature, didn’t deserve.
Time leaned in and whispered a string of words in my ear. My skin pricked as I realized I was learning death magic spells. Though I’d never heard these utterances before in my life, the language made sense. I recognized the sub-words and the sounds being used. That had to be how death magic worked. Once I was given the knowledge, I understood it.
“I just taught you three minor defensive and three minor attack spells,” Time said.
“How’d you do that? I mean, I don’t get it. I know all six now, but how’d
they stick so fast?” I asked.
He smiled again. “They call it death magic for a reason. I made it available to you, and therefore you internalized it. The process itself is simple. Perhaps don’t overthink it. Remember to touch the blade with your index and middle finger as you chant the spell.”
“Wow. I mean, thank you, but… wow…”
“Thank me after you remove Danika’s head from her body. This is all the magic I’m comfortable with teaching a non-Reaper,” Time said, his gaze wandering to the side for a moment. It settled on something, and I spotted a glimmer of humor in his galaxy eyes. I turned to see what he was looking at, but there was nothing there. “Now, bid your farewells and go. Trev is waiting for you downstairs.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you need a wingman, and Trev knows the terrain better than anyone else,” Time said. “Please, Esme. Consider it a condition to my teaching you the spells.”
I shot him a grin. “Well, you’ve already taught me the spells. I can leave Trev behind. You should really learn to negotiate better.”
“As easily as I’ve taught you, I can unteach you,” Time replied. “Like I said, I used death magic to implant death magic in your mind. I can do the same to remove it, and you’ll be none the wiser.”
“Ah. Point taken. Okay,” I mumbled, offering a meek half-smile.
He stepped aside, and I took a moment to hug each of the Visentis boys. Ansel was the most attached to me—he and Kalon and I had gone through a lot together long before we got Tudyk and Moore back. We had history. “Just be careful, please,” he whispered. “I need you. We all need you.”
It was hard not to cry in the face of such kindness and affection. How one kid could change with just the right company and influence… Ansel had come a long way since his early Darkling days. “You be good, too. Look after your brothers. And if push comes to shove, you three haul ass and get somewhere safe, no matter what happens to me or to Kalon, okay?”
“I’m not leaving Kalon,” Ansel argued, shaking his head.
“You will if it means protecting Tudyk and Moore,” I said firmly. “Their wellbeing—and yours, for that matter—comes first. There might be some tough decisions ahead, Ansel, and you might be forced to make them yourself. I trust your judgment, and I promise I will do everything I can to come back, okay?”
He sighed, removing himself from our hug. Tudyk was quick to replace him, throwing his arms around my neck and holding on tight. “Come back,” the kid said. “We can’t do this without you.”
I pulled him away and cupped his delicate face. “You might have to. But like I promised your brother, I will do what I can. Okay? Don’t make me repeat myself. You’re old enough to understand what’s going on and what you might have to do to protect your brothers. Don’t let Ansel do all the hard work.”
“Nah, we’re in this together. Ansel knows he can count on me.” He looked at his older brother. The two exchanged brief smiles as I took Moore in my arms and held him close for the better part of a minute.
“You’ve had it the worst so far,” I muttered. “Aside from Kalon, that is. I’m sorry you went through it.”
“Have you forgiven me?” Moore asked, and I looked at him with genuine confusion. “The attack…?”
“Oh, come on. That wasn’t you. How many times are you going to apologize? We survived, we’re together, and that’s what matters,” I said. “Hold on to that.”
“And you go kick Danika’s skinny ass, okay?” Moore replied. “Take them all down.”
“Listen to Time, kids,” I said, chuckling softly as I stepped back, fitting the scythe on my belt at the back with a leather strap. I’d have no trouble taking it out fast if needed. “While you’re in this room, he’s the authority, got it?”
The boys all nodded—Time included, which made me want to laugh. Only a few minutes with this bunch, and the events from earlier in the day had already begun to fade. The Visentis boys would take a long time to heal after their mother’s death, but they were handling it very well. It gave me hope for the future.
“I’ll see you all soon,” I added, then walked out the door, ignoring the lump in my throat. I didn’t want it to be the last time I was in Kalon’s presence, but I had to consider the possibility. With that in mind, I reverted to one of my dad’s earliest teachings—negative thoughts invited negative outcomes.
With what loomed ahead, the last thing I needed was to invite the universe to screw me over. So I put on a faint smile, straightened my back, and descended the spiraling stairs until I reached the ground level where Trev was waiting for me. He had also geared up and was armed to the teeth with blades and a pulverizer weapon, plus whatever supplies he must’ve scrounged up from our repository in the south tower.
“Soul Crusher and Kelara have gone out to find Corbin. You ready for our side of the mission?” he asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” I replied.
“Cool. Have you had any last rites or anything?”
I smacked him on the shoulder, and he laughed. “Don’t be an ass. We’re going to survive this, Trev.”
“I know. I’m just messing with you,” he said, and we started walking. “Esme?”
“Yeah?”
“I made Kalon a promise a while back. Before this whole Black Fever issue.” He gently gripped my arm. I stopped and looked at him. “He asked me to make sure you were safe, in case the two of you were ever separated. Provided, of course, that I was around. I think this qualifies, so I need you to know something.”
“Okay?”
“I trust you with my life. And I hope you will trust me the same way when we go out there,” Trev said. “We need absolute confidence in one another. If Danika gets so much as a whiff of wariness or doubt, she’ll use it against us.”
I gave him a warm smile. “Trev, I trust you. Kalon trusts you, so I’d be foolish not to. Now come on. We’ve got a Lady Supreme to assassinate.”
We started walking again.
“You make that sound like such a bad thing,” Trev muttered.
Ahead, the southern gates of Roano towered, rebuilt by Kailani, along with the rest of the surrounding wall. The city had been fortified in the event of an attack. Should the protective spell fail, we’d need some form of physical defense, as well. Two Orvisians stood guard, and they pulled the gates open for us. Outside, two Vision horses awaited. Trev had had them prepared for us, since we needed to move fast.
With a neatly folded map in my chest pocket, I looked ahead. The future was uncertain, but my desire to live was anything but. No matter what came at me, I had something wonderful to come back to, despite the difficult circumstances. That was something that Danika couldn’t say about herself. She had no one to love other than her own reflection.
Kailani
While tracking Marios and Silla Levantes—two of the Whips we knew for sure had been on the run since shortly before Derek’s escape from the imperial palace—we ended up in a bluish, strange-looking desert. Trev’s wisp messages, which he’d relayed to us via Telluris, had brought us here on the basis of several sightings of the Levantes siblings by Rimians in the area. We knew we were on the right path, but we weren’t sure what waited for us at our destination.
Hunter, Ridan, Amane, Nightmare, Widow, and I proceeded carefully across the gradually rising dunes. The sand was streaked with shades of indigo and pale blue, and it created a truly stunning visual effect against the backdrop of reddish sky. The evening was fast approaching, and darkness rose along the horizon, casting its obscure blanket across the desert. I could see the moon in the east, a half-disc celestial presence that reflected its pale light against the trillions of microcrystals that made up the endless sea of sand at our feet.
It looked as though we were stepping on crushed sapphires and tourmaline gemstones. The winds whispered in the distance as we made our way deeper into this vast and barren land.
“The Rimians call this the Ghostly Land,” Hunter said. He’d spent some time with th
e Orvisian Rimians, questioning them about this place, shortly before our departure. Ever the careful one, Hunter had wanted us to know as much as possible about the region before we ventured into it. “They say that shadows dance across the dunes after dark, and the Rimians think they’re the ghosts of people who died before their time.”
“What are the odds that there would be any wandering spirits out here?” Widow asked as we climbed one of the dunes. The heat was finally dying down, soon to be replaced by the crippling nocturnal cold. This region was on the southeastern part of the continent, subject to dry spells and heatwaves during the day—but the nights were downright frosty. These sudden temperature changes had favored the creation of this landscape. “After all, it’s why the Darklings made their Knight Ghouls. To chomp on the spirits of the dead so that they wouldn’t be Reaped.”
“I agree with that line of reasoning, but who knows? I mean, look at Nethissis and how much she overcame as a spirit,” I said. “Maybe there are others like her. People who escaped the ghouls’ clutches and ended up here because, as you can all see, this place is basically devoid of life.”
“It would also make a fine ghoul hunting ground,” Nightmare chimed in. “Maybe those are the shadows that the Rimians think of as ghosts.”
“Ah, yes. That might be a possibility,” I admitted, in absolutely no mood to fight any more Knight Ghouls. I’d had enough of them, especially since I knew they weren’t in this of their own volition. They’d been forced into this existence, and that just broke my heart.
Ahead, I could see a faint light glimmering beyond a lower dune.
“Are we expecting to find more Rimian settlements here?” Ridan asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Remember what the other villagers said before we reached this desert. Fugitives from the empire have settled here. Rimians who take advantage of the harsh conditions and the freezing nights to hide from the guards.”
“Is it really enough to keep the Aeternae from hunting them down?” Hunter asked.
A Shade of Vampire 85: A Shard of Soul Page 10