The Reaping Season

by Sarah Stirling

  It was enough to stop him from looking behind as Rook smacked the handle of her blade into his temple. Janus’ body crumpled to the ground, boneless, landing in a heap of limbs on the ground. Wide eyed, Rook tilted her head as she stared at them. “Did I do the right thing?”

  “Yes, yes. Let’s go. The train is coming.”

  Viktor stumbled from out of her shadow, face twisted in confusion. “What?”

  “We should get out of here. The train will take us as far as Korrikbai. From there it will be much easier to reach Tsellyr, then we can – Rook, what are you doing?”

  Rook had hauled Janus to his feet and slung his limp body over her shoulder. “I’m going to question him when he comes around. I don’t believe he would just do something like this. I want to know why.”

  “He’s clearly crazy, that’s why. He’s been after me all along!”

  “Wait. What?”

  Kilai slapped a hand over her face. The chug of wheels in motion echoed through the air, ground vibrating with the oncoming train. Clouds of steam wafted above the green roof of the station, fading into the stark blue of the sky above. She hustled the wayward party towards the tracks with the sinking feeling that she had become some kind of parent to a group of unruly children. “Please, move. Rook, try to hide the fact that he’s unconscious, will you?” The watchman could return to his post at any time and she didn’t want to have to explain the man flopped over Rook’s shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” Viktor moved to her side to help her as she winced.

  “Mm. Fine. Fine. Just happy to have found you.”

  The train shuffled to a stop beside the station shelter, wheels squealing on the tracks, bringing with it the scent of engine oil and smoke. Kilai prodded both in the back. “Get on. Find a quiet carriage.”

  She spared a look around before she followed them on, relieved to see that while a few passengers were stepping off, there was only one further down the track getting on the train. Slamming the door shut closed behind her, she pressed on through the narrow corridor into a nearly empty carriage. Trying to use her body to shield Janus’ prone form, she waited until Rook dumped him beside the window and then slid in beside Viktor on the opposite side. Her heavy limbs sank into cracked leather.

  “Use this,” said Viktor, tossing a ball of twine onto the table.

  Rook met his gaze curiously and he shrugged, looking out at the open expanse of the valley through the dusty glass of the window. She began to unwind it and then knotted Janus wrists together beneath the table. “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Grey eyes flickered up to look between Kilai and Viktor. “Why am I tying him up, exactly?”

  “He tried to kill me!” exclaimed Viktor, slapping his palms down on the table.

  Kilai gave him a light shove. “Do you want to say that a bit louder?” she hissed, glancing out of their booth to see if anyone was watching them. It seemed they had escaped unwanted attention but they would have to be cautious.

  “Why would he try to kill you?”

  “How should I know? He just pulled out his gun and bang. No explanation.”

  A memory flickered in her mind, a weak candle in an errant breeze. It had been the vision granted her by the spirit, of a potential future in which they had failed. In which Rook had lay lifeless and broken. Dead. But that hadn’t been all. She’d seen other things that had unsettled her, and as she watched Viktor now, at the way the sinking sun brushed over brown skin and brightened the green in his eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder if Janus had possessed a genuine reason for his treachery. For she believed the vision had not merely shown her the future. No, it had also contained truths about the past. About the man she sat beside, if she had interpreted it correctly. But she couldn’t be sure.

  “What is it?” said Viktor, turning to meet her gaze.

  Kilai ignored him and turned to Rook. “Janus said something about another job. Another benefactor.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “I don’t know.” She could still feel the weight of Viktor’s gaze upon her but she kept her eyes on Rook. “I don’t really think he’s the type to talk.”

  “I’ll find out.” Rook had a familiar glint of determination in her eyes.

  “Maybe we should just leave him and get away while we can.”

  “No. No. How can you just say that? After everything, you’re just going to let it go? Just like that?”

  Kilai bit her lip. “I think we might be getting involved in things bigger than we realise.”

  For this comment she received twin stares, boring into her from each side. Weary and eyes drooping, she sighed as she allowed herself to slouch into the seat. “There’s no use in arguing about it right now. We can discuss it further when we get to Korrikbai.” With that she shut her eyes, shutting herself off from the conversation. As worried as she was, her body was so exhausted that the gentle rocking of the train lulled her off to a deep sleep.

  *

  Despite everything that had happened, Rook still felt a tingle of curiosity as the train tore its way through open countryside, trees and mountains blurring into one foggy mass from the marked glass of the carriage. She had never rode in one before, and even though she felt exhausted, body still protesting her injury, she found herself studying the vibrations beneath her seat and gentle rumble of the car in motion with all the earnestness of a scholar at work. It was quite a different experience from a ship, sinking into comfortable seats with the scent of engine oil heady in the air. Sniffing, she caught Viktor’s wary gaze and smiled. “I’ve never been on one of these. It’s quite unusual.”

  Viktor glanced around the carriage as if only just realising where he was. “It smells.”

  “It’s interesting! See how fast we’re going? It’s quite amazing, actually.”

  “You won’t be saying that if we get caught.”

  She tilted her head back from the window in question.

  “You have to pay for a ticket. You better hope there are none of those bluecoats on this train.”

  “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

  Viktor bristled, nestling deeper into his seat. Beside him, Kilai snored softly. “I’m not afraid. I’m concerned.”

  “Oh, because those are such different things.”

  His nose scrunched up as he made a face at her and she laughed. “I mean, why is someone out there trying to have me killed?”

  Rook looked at Janus’ head lolling against the window, skull rattling against the glass as the train rumbled onwards. From the dusty reflection she could see how soft his features looked in sleep, mouth slightly parted and lashes fanning across eyes masked of their usual world-weariness. “We’ll have to ask him.” She did not want to, even though she itched to know the truth. But the fear of knowing was worse, like the toss of a coin into the air. For in the heartbeat that it tumbled in a flash of winking metal the verdict was yet to be decided. She liked Janus. She didn’t want to think of him as an enemy. It was much easier to keep the coin tucked in her palm, where the truth was still obscured by her own indecision.

  Plucking his pistol from his holster, she ran her fingers over the grooves of the detailing on the handle, admiring the intricate patterns embossed on the surface. The grooves had worn down in the places where the hand naturally fit; a fact that made her sad. Who was he, to have lived such a life? Who was Janus really? Was he a bad man who had lied and manipulated them, or was he simply someone in a desperate situation, doing what he had to in order to survive?

  And was she naive to want the latter to be the truth? She bit her lip and sighed in a deep exhale, air hissing through her teeth. The inevitable could only be eluded for so long. It was time she flipped the coin.

  “Boarding passes!” bellowed a voice from deeper inside the carriage. “Prepare your boarding passes for inspection.”

  Rook froze, meeting Viktor’s wide eyes. Under the table she kicked at Kilai. “Kilai! Ki! Wake up!”

  Kilai’s eyelashes fluttered and it to
ok her a few moments before she finally blinked awake, expression still groggy. “What is it? Why did it require waking me up?”

  “Boarding passes,” said Viktor. “We need them.”

  Immediately her eyes brightened and she sat up, scraping her red hair back in a knot. “Search Janus.”

  “What? I don’t think we have time right –”

  “Just look in his jacket. A man like that is bound to have something.”

  Rook felt guilty as she plucked open his jacket and began rifling through the pockets and compartments of both it and his undercoat. Out she pulled all manner of objects; knives and pins, a rusty pocket watch and cracked compass, letters and various neatly folded documents that were covered in illegible scrawls she could barely discern. She held sheets up to the light, twisting them and turning them for a better angle.

  “Give me that,” snapped Kilai, tugging pieces from her hand. As she did a card fell from between their wrestling grasps and landed face up onto the table.

  Rook scooped it up and held it to her face, confused. It was a worn playing card, folded in half with a crease that threatened to split it in two, something dark red streaking the surface. “The eight of hearts,” she murmured, suddenly eager to be rid of it. She felt the prickling sensation of looking at something she wasn’t supposed to be, running her hands over one of the more intimate parts of an unconscious man’s life. She slipped it back into his pocket before anyone could ask what it was.

  “Did you find something? I think he’s coming.”

  Kilai held one piece of paper up with a look of determination. “A written declaration from the Mayor of Tsellyr himself, granting the man passage to wherever his travels take him.” She looked at Viktor, sizing him up.

  “What? What is it?”

  “You’re going to play Janus.” She licked her thumb and scrubbed at a smear of mud across his cheek, mussing with his hair as he tried to back out of reach. Thrusting the paper into his hands, she glanced behind her just as a wide-set man with a ginger moustache that was trying to escape the confines of his face waddled up to their booth.

  “Passes, please.”

  Kilai barely spared him a glance from where she was rifling through the sheets Rook had pilfered from Janus. She took the paper back from a stunned looking Viktor and handed it to the conductor. “This is Janus Lakazar-shai, travelling on the orders of Mayor Sandson.”

  The man took the proffered paper and squinted at it with brows smashed together. He looked up at them, then back down at the paper, and then up once more. Viktor wrangled his features into a smile that made Rook want to laugh, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound. “Who might you be, then?” said the man, looking first at Kilai before shifting to Rook.

  “I am Lakazar-shai’s secretary and this is his bodyguard,” replied Kilai, kicking Rook under the table before she could speak.

  The conductor looked sceptical. “And the other one?” he said, eyes falling on Janus.

  “J-Jallnyr is our translator.” Rook had been proud of the excuse until she caught Kilai glaring at her.

  “You’re speaking clearly enough to me,” said the man.

  “Lakazar-shai’s travels have taken him far. He has had to converse with many people from all over the Myrlik Isles.”

  “And what is it, exactly, that Lakazar is doing on behalf of the Mayor?”

  “I’m afraid that is classified,” said Kilai with a grave air. “We cannot disclose our purpose here.”

  “Mm. You see, this leaves me with a problem verifying your claim. How do I know this is real when I cannot confirm it with the Mayor himself?”

  “Look at that seal there,” said Kilai, tapping a finger against the broken wax seal on the page. “That bears the arms of Lord Sandson himself. Anyone from Tsellyr will recognise this symbol if you show it to them. I am happy to wait if you wish to get that verified.”

  The man flushed, face nearly as red as his hair. “Why is it that an important man like Lakazar-shai needs you to speak for him?”

  The simmering energy in the atmosphere made Rook suck in a breath, hand reaching out to take Viktor’s beneath the table. She could feel his unrest, tension locking his body like a bowstring drawn back. The slightest movement would have him firing at the conductor and revealing themselves as the imposters they were. A soft pulse of her own energy mingled with his own and she saw his shoulders release, expression calming as he turned to the man.

  “It is important in my task of assisting the Mayor that I keep a low profile. I am sure someone of such a station as yours understands the need for privacy. Lord Sandson would really appreciate your generosity in this matter.” Something about the intensity of his eyes made Rook gulp. For a moment she didn’t recognise the flighty young man she had come to know, a shiver coursing through her. “As would I.”

  His words had a similar effect on the conductor, who fell quiet. He appeared to be debating with himself, still staring into Viktor’s eyes as if he was unable to tear them away, before he took a step back and nodded. “All right, Weishei. I will leave you to your business.” He handed the paper back to Kilai and stumbled off with the gait of a drunkard.

  The snick of a door closing sucked the tension from the room, all three breathing sighs of relief. Rook smiled at Viktor’s weary expression, sinking back into her seat. She still had questions but she wasn’t sure he would be able to answer them yet. “Nicely handled. How did you know that would work?” she asked Kilai.

  “I didn’t.”

  Rook snorted.

  “What in the Locker has the Mayor of Tsellyr got to do with any of this?” said Viktor.

  Kilai’s gaze flickered to Janus. “That I don’t know. If he is the mysterious benefactor in question, I can’t fathom what he would want with you, Viktor. Oh, don’t make that face,” she said when he glared at her, “you know until this green fire thing you were nothing.” She continued through his choked noise of indignation. “It does bring up some interesting questions though. I think our first stop in the capital will be the Mayor’s office.”

  Rook studied the light reflecting in her dark eyes, alight now with interest. “You think you can get us an audience with him?” She knew nothing about him but she did know that men with inflated egos could be challenging to appeal to.

  “I don’t suppose it should be too difficult, no. We still have another card up our sleeve, should we run into any problems.” Her eyes remained on Janus.

  “Should I wake him up? We should probably speak to him.”

  “Wait? What? Why are we listening to anything that comes out of his mouth?” said Viktor, scrambling in his seat.

  Kilai sighed. “We should probably hear what he has to say.”

  “How about we listen to what I have to say? About getting shot? Is that not important to anyone?”

  Rook barely heard the words, too busy preparing herself for the dive into her well of power. Taking the plunge for the first time in days was a nerve-wracking experience, never sure whether she would be able to fight the voice hissing in her ear, taunting her to take more. It required a finesse she didn’t have, fingers slick with sweat as all sensations heightened around her, the aether trembling with the energy of life, spiritual and otherwise. She shoved back against the force of The Rook, sipping a few drops of power, just enough to give her the pull she needed to force Janus awake.

  With a hand on his shoulder, she squeezed tight, channelling some of that energy into his body. Awaken, she commanded, reaching, grasping through the fog of his mind for a light. Open your eyes. Just out of reach, she could feel his mind slipping away from her, and she dove further. She had to be careful not to go too far into his consciousness, for fear she might not find her way back. Holding such a weak tether to The Rook left her vulnerable but she couldn’t risk drawing any more power, lest she lose control again.

  Janus! Her voice stretched out in the vast darkness of his mind, thinning and wobbling like the sound of a finger running around the rim of a
glass. Janus, can you hear me? Perhaps she had hit him too hard. Rattled his brain too much with the blow. Panic set in at the thought, her own mind tumbling within the confines of his. What if she had hurt him because she couldn’t control her own strength? Bile rose in her throat. Somewhere far away, she thought she heard the echo of her name.

  Just as she thought all was lost, a stirring sensation tickled her mind and she felt the moment when his consciousness blinked awake, gasping back into herself as his mind kicked her out. She turned to see him looking down at his bound hands before his black eyes flickered between them. They landed on hers last. The emptiness in them punched the breath from her.

  “I had to do it,” she found the words spilling from her mouth. “You were going to hurt them.”

  “Not intentionally.” His voice was raspy, as if he hadn’t touched water for days.

  “How can you say that?” said Kilai, leaning forward. “You held the gun to our faces. You shot Viktor.”

  Janus remained silent, eyes hard. It was as if he had put a shield up between them, the distant expression in his face closing them out. Even with her heightened senses, Rook couldn’t get any kind of reading from him. He was calm – or he had certainly mastered the act of pretending – for his heartbeat remained steady, posture loose and relaxed despite being closed in by all three of them.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she said. “Won’t you explain yourself?”

  “Yes,” added Viktor as he crossed his arms, “I’d like to hear that too.”

  Either he really was fearless or he had no idea how to read the room. Janus shrugged. “Was just doing a job. Really wasn’t personal.”

  “A job,” said Kilai, waving the paper in her hand, “for the Mayor? Tell me, why does Lord Sandson want Viktor dead?”

  Something flickered in his expression for a brief moment before it was quickly smothered by the usual blankness on Janus’ face. “If he’d wanted him dead he would have been dead.”