The Reaping Season

by Sarah Stirling

  “Ow! What in the Locker?” Viktor swore, staring at his hand. “I didn’t say you could cut me up!”

  As his distress rose, so did the strength of his fiery aura. With The Rook’s eyes, Rook could see the faint shimmering of green flame around him, concentrating in his palm. Skin slowly sealed back together, the blood caked around a thin line of tender flesh. All three stared in amazement at the burst of fire and then the healed cut, leaving behind nothing more than a tiny scar.

  “It’s itchy,” Viktor grumbled as he scratched at it with his other hand.

  “All right, Vik-ka, prepare yourself.” Rook thought she was more in need of preparation, sucking in a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

  “Don’t you ‘Vik-ka’ me. We’re not friends anymore.”

  Kilai snorted, taking his uninjured hand in hers. “Since when?”

  “Since now – since I decided I’m nothing but a –” The word warped into a deep groan as Rook plunged the dagger into his abdomen with just enough strength to pierce the flesh and not an ounce more. Viktor grunted and doubled over, clutching at his stomach. “I’m revoking your ka rights,” he breathed between a hiccup.

  “Viktor? Oh, Locker. Viktor, are you all right?” She dropped to her haunches beside him on the floor, stroking his back. The heat emanating from him burned her skin but she gritted her teeth against the force of it, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Inside her mind The Rook was shrieking. “Can you hear me? Viktor?”

  She could feel Kilai hesitate behind her and then the sound of boots echoing on the floor ringing out in the cavernous space. “Help! Help us, please! My friend has just been attacked!”

  The energy flaring within Viktor was beginning to scare Rook. She didn’t know what kind of riftspawn would be lurking so far from the nearest rift but considering the mess they had encountered back in Nirket it probably wouldn’t matter. Right now he was a beacon for any kind of spiritual creature from all across the island and with so many people gathered in the city, it could turn into a bloodbath.

  “Who attacked you?”

  Rook tried to shield Viktor’s body from the soldiers looming over him. He raised his head enough for her to see his eyes beneath the dark tangle of his fringe. They were glowing a brilliant viridian green. At least his wound seemed to be healing.

  “There was a tall man with black hair and a long coat,” said Kilai, standing between them and the bluecoats. “He pulled out a knife and threatened us for our money but when I told him we had none to give he attacked my brother here. Please,” she gasped, grasping at his hands, “you must arrest this man before he hurts more people.”

  The older of the two soldiers stepped around her. “Is he all right? He doesn’t look so good.”

  Rook waved him away with a bloodied palm. “I need to get him medical attention. Stay back.” The drops of power lent to her from The Rook were not enough to fight back against the raw strength of his fire but she couldn’t risk drawing any more, lest they both lose control. It was terrifying, to be someone else’s tether. She could barely keep control of herself.

  With all the force she could muster, she hauled Viktor to his feet and wrapped his arm around her neck. “He needs a doctor,” she said, for want of distraction. She had no intentions of letting a doctor see what he was capable of.

  The older guard gestured to the younger of the two, his features still softened by youth. “Fetch the surgeon. Go.” He ran off.

  That left them with only one problem to deal with. If she could only get them out the door, they could disappear into the crowd and find somewhere to hide. But Viktor was burning up beneath his clothes and his aura still shimmered, mercifully not visible to ordinary eyes. Yet. Threads of spiritual energy all around him trembled and shook. A warning.

  Kilai ducked into Viktor’s other side, eyes running over his sweating face.

  “Maybe you should leave him on the ground until the surgeon – what’s happening to him?” The soldier staggered back, uncertainty spreading across her face. “Why are his eyes like that?”

  “He just needs some air, don’t you Viktor?” she tugged him along past the bluecoat. “He’s feeling a bit warm.”

  “Wait a minute. Wait, come back here!”

  Rook felt the moment when the spark ignited and flames engulfed the entire station, flooding her senses to the point where she felt them singe and sizzle, a ghastly cry ringing through her mind. She gripped tight onto his wrist as she staggered, The Rook recoiling against the onslaught of so much spiritual energy focused in one blast. Screams erupted from around them. Rook couldn’t even see, tripping blindly over her own feet.

  “Rook! Are you all right?”

  The cool touch of a hand to arm startled her and she swayed on her feet as Kilai blurred in her vision. “I’m fine. I’m just –”

  More voices rang out and then the thundering boom of a gunshot smashing into brick. “Catch that man!” she heard from behind them. Rook shoved Viktor into the crowd of people, still streaming fire. They swerved, giving them a wide berth.

  “All part of the show, folks,” shouted out Kilai. “Happy Phoenix Night!”

  Some clapped enthusiastically, cheering them on as they weaved and ducked through the throng of people out to celebrate the festival. Green-tinged smoke curled up into the night sky, leaving behind an easy trail for the soldiers to follow. She could hear their yelling and the angry protests of the crowd as they cut through in pursuit. Rook spared a glance backwards and paid the price by stumbling, crashing to the ground. People separated as she tumbled, leaving her exposed. A gunshot crackled through the air, the frantic crowd pushing against her in their haste to escape. To get out of the way of stampeding feet she had to dive into an alley and separate from the others, her boots splashing in puddle water collecting in the gutters as she ran.

  Viktor was a signal fire in the stark night, the energy he gave off rolling in such tremendous waves she felt overwhelmed, even without him physically near. Pressed against a dank wall, she sucked in desperate breaths, breathing in the scent of mildew and dank water. Her fingers trembled with the weight of The Rook lurking upon her shoulders, demanding release. It would be so easy, too. To just let go and let The Rook take over. The more she thought about it the better the idea seemed, with only herself and the scuffling gutter rats for company.

  Rook was tired.

  A kite-shaped riftspawn drifted through the sky. The soft silvery glow lit up the alleyway, shimmering in the reflection of the water at her feet, and she reached out a hand, giving a light tug with The Rook’s power. It changed course, sweeping towards her on an invisible breeze, sending a tingling feeling through her. Of course she had more to worry about than herself and their immediate survival. The riftspawn would come in response to Viktor’s fire.

  Rook was tired but she wasn’t going to give up. She had to get to Viktor and help him before he was found. Before they discovered the extent of his power. If they found him first – if those soldiers had that at their fingertips – she feared what they would do. It wasn’t just Viktor’s safety at stake. It was everyone else’s too.

  She crept towards the entrance of the alley to peer out at the chaos beyond. There was still work to do before she could rest.

  *

  Everything was filtered through a strange haze. Viktor ran, because he knew he was supposed to run, but the rumbling sound in his head filled his ears, and the smell of burning had him gasping for water. He barely saw the people all around him, only registering the brief flash of coloured lanterns as he shoved through the crowd. Fire. There was fire in his veins and it threatened to spill from them like it had burned a hole through, roaring louder and louder within. He couldn’t contain his heartbeat. The violent pounding inside his ribcage threatened to punch free, stealing the breath from his lungs.

  “This way,” shouted Kilai, tugging him past reams of market stalls until they reached a large stone fountain, the water in the pool below filled with a constellation of tiny tea li
ghts in coloured glass, bobbing over tiny waves that reflected the green fire surrounding him. Viktor paused to stare at his own rippling reflection, hands reaching to the shining lamps of his eyes. For the span of a second he thought he saw something behind him; a great fiery bird with wings outstretched. But then he blinked and there was nothing there.

  A gunshot tore through the air and some drunken revellers cheered, thinking the chase part of the festivity. Somewhere nearby wafted the playful song of a fiddle. The raucous chorus of chatter was almost surreal given how Viktor felt like he might lose control at any moment, all that power thrumming beneath his skin unleashing on an unwitting crowd. There was a beast inside him. Haunting him.

  “Stop that man!”

  Help me, please.

  Viktor clambered around the fountain, nearly falling in. The number of bluecoats that were chasing them seemed to have doubled, pouring through cracks in the crowd like an oozing poison. He ducked his head as more gunshots fired, senses hyperaware of everything around him; the scrape of stone beneath his hand, the stench of liquor and vomit combined, and the burnt wood smoke scent of a bonfire. Hands reached out to grab him, and with quicker reflexes than he could have ever expected of himself, he kicked one, clawed at the other, and then slid out of their tightening holds. There were flickers of sensation all around him; the mental equivalent of a shiver running down his spine.

  When he looked up there were glowing lights in the sky. Riftspawn. Viktor was the one drawing them in, just as he had before. Why was it happening? How could he stop it?

  “Viktor!” cried Kilai, yanking at his shirt. “Keep your head down!”

  Another bang pierced the celebrations and Viktor felt his heart stop as the ground shook beneath his feet. Smoke billowed into the sky, the smell lingering in the torrid heat. More booms resonated in succession and the bloom of colour flashed in the water in the fast approaching harbour. He followed Kilai down towards the moored boats, slowing to hide the crash of their footsteps as they found a burrow between shipping crates to hide behind, allowing them both to catch their breath and regroup.

  He couldn’t resist looking upwards as a firework exploded into the sky with a thundering crack, bursting into thousands of bright sparks in red and green. The shape was almost that of a bird with a long tail streaming out behind it in fading lights. The sound of his breathing filled his ears as he stared his fill, each bang and crash making him flinch, braced for discovery by the wealth of soldiers on their tail.

  Viktor turned to his side and froze. “Where’s Rook?”

  It took a moment for Kilai to regain her breathing. “I don’t know. I thought she was with us.”

  “I don’t see her.” He peeked through the crack between two crates but couldn’t see much beyond the hazy cloud of smoke and bobs of lanterns strung between the tall iron lampposts. “She’s gone.” Fear plunged into his gut. “Where is she?”

  Kilai’s head fell against the wall. “She’ll be okay, Viktor. She’s strong.”

  “She can’t survive a bullet.”

  “She’s smart enough to hide out.” The look on Kilai’s face wasn’t particularly convincing. “Look, we need to trust she’ll look after herself because right now we need to focus on ourselves. Viktor.”

  He blinked, clearing some of the haze clouding his mind. “Yes?”

  “Are you in control?”

  Viktor opened his mouth but found he didn’t know how to answer. All around him the world burned, each noise echoing in his ears louder than before, each scent plugging his nostrils, each touch to his skin scrambling his mind with a burst of sensations. He didn’t know if he could control it. He didn’t really know what was happening to him at all.

  “I’m here. I’m still me.”

  That much was true at least. For now it would have to do.

  Kilai sagged against the wall, tension bleeding from her posture. “I don’t know this city well enough to know where to go.”

  “You can always leave me. I’m the one they want.”

  Kilai snorted, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “We said we would stick together, didn’t we?”

  Viktor stared at her. He hadn’t expected this from the ever practical and blunt-spoken Kilai, who had made it clear she wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her goals. If the situations were reversed, and she was the one in trouble, would he stick around? He didn’t know the answer here and now but he’d like to think he would have the guts to stand by her side. She, at least, had earned his loyalty.

  “Come out now, villain,” shouted a voice over the crowd. “You’re about to be surrounded.”

  Viktor looked at Kilai. “Last chance.”

  “Where am I going to go now? But Viktor, you need to try and calm down.”

  His fingers trembled against the stone, flames wafting from his skin and rising into the air. The energy swelled in the atmosphere, alive with creatures from the otherworld. Gasps resounded from around them as more and more eerie shapes circled in the air, twisting and weaving in and out to make a great spiritual net above him.

  “Come out now or we’ll be forced to shoot you down.” The voice rang out clearer in a quieter arena. When Viktor glanced past the wall he could see the crowd dispersing, leaving a line of dark silhouettes by the fountain. Without all the noise he could hear the splash and gurgle of the falling water, echoing through his skull. His grip tightened on the wall.

  A hand on his shoulder pulled him back. “What are you planning on doing? You’re not invincible, you know.”

  “No?” he said coolly. At whatever she saw on his face, Kilai gasped. “How would you know I’m not? Hundreds of years I’ve walked these lands and here I am again. Who’s to say anyone can stop me?”

  The internal glow inside the various riftspawn dimmed and sputtered as he sucked in a breath, absorbing their delicious energy. His aura burst out, sending Kilai backwards in shock, and he clenched a fist as he felt power surge through him. It felt so right, like gaining back a memory long forgotten. A memory that had been there all along, merely hidden by layers of dust and cobwebs. The power crackled in his veins, thirsting for an outlet. Ready to be unleashed.

  Ignoring Kilai’s protests, Viktor rose to his feet and walked calmly from his hiding place to the middle of the square, facing the soldiers around the fountain in the centre. Hands in his pockets, he adopted an unaffected air as he stared them down, just waiting for them to try and shoot. From what he could see of their faces in the dim light – his vision sharpening as he focused on them – a few looked rattled, stealing looks between their comrades.

  “You asked for me? Here I am.”

  One man stepped forward; he bore the navy stripe rather than the crimson and his face was heavy with lines. A man who had seen much in his time and did not cower like the rest of the sheep in their midst. He appreciated that.

  “You are the one that destroyed the ship in the Yllzo, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am taking you into custody.”

  A smirk spread across his face. “You can certainly try.”

  The soldier’s broad shoulders stiffened, his hand tightening on his gun. At his waist shone a great shining sword that his other hand fell upon. An old-fashioned sort, then. Viktor could admire that too.

  His opponent stepped forward. Viktor mirrored him. Just one step, enough to put on the pressure. Enough to show that he was not afraid of them. His heart was pounding in his chest, but not in fear. The thrill of anticipation set every nerve alight, his fire dancing on a knife edge. Which way it would tip, he ached to find out.

  “Come in without protest and we will give you a fair trial,” the soldier said as he took another tentative step forward, the posture of a man approaching a wild animal.

  “I very much doubt that,” he replied, repeating the motion.

  A burst of light brightened the night, piercing through the thick veil of tension in the square with a sharp bang. Ice cold pain spread through the warmth
in his core, stomach clenching in shock. He could feel his lifeblood seeping from him and knew if he didn’t react quickly he would lose all the power he had harnessed. As the eyes of the lieutenant in front of him shone in the lantern light, Viktor sucked in a lungful of humid air and plunged his fingers into the wound. With ease his nails scraped metal, his breath heavy against the cloud of pain, and he drew it from him in a flash of movement. Triumphantly he held it aloft as he straightened his posture, pulling in more spiritual energy from the riftspawn above to replenish his strength. Already the wound itched with healing.

  Viktor threw the bullet in an arc. It bounced on the stone and then rolled to meet the toe of the soldier’s boots. Whether it glinted red from the dangling Phoenix Night lanterns or from his own blood he did not know. All he knew was the satisfaction of their fear, pungent enough to scent on the air. “I told you that you could try, bluecoat. But now it’s my turn.”

  As he thrust a hand to the sky in command, he spotted a riftspawn glowing brighter than any other against the black of night, looking like a silver kite. The moment’s hesitation cost him as it swooped down to touch his outstretched fingers, triggering sparks behind his eyes. The sight of Rook in an alleyway, fear on her face. Viktor, remember to breathe. Remember who you are. Don’t give into it. It was her voice, the soft lilt of her accent calming.

  Viktor wanted to listen. He really did. But the power was growing inside him, swirling into a tumultuous wave that needed release. He couldn’t contain it. The fire burned the kite riftspawn into nothing, fading out into a handful of sparks. More energy flowed through him, strengthening his connection to the sleeping giant within. If he reached far enough inside himself he could touch it. Wake it from its ancient slumber.

  The scrape of boot against stone drew his attention, each tiny sound magnified by the staggering power within him and his pure unfiltered connection to the world around him. “Not so fast, bluecoat,” he snarled, remembering his purpose. The riftspawn danced around him in anticipation.