by Nina Walker
So with that in mind, I suck in a breath and quietly approach the shore. The woman is still crying, her voice growing more muffled and strained by the second. There’s something about her that pulls me to her, like a string, like I must help her, no matter what.
I emerge from the water, going for the closest cropping of trees for cover. Even the trees are different here. Heartier pine trees made for all seasons like what we have in Drakenon. They are special, but still lacking in the enchanting hum of the Fae forest. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
I crouch low, my clothing, velvet cape, and bag all soaked through and weighing me down. I carefully dispose of the bag and cape and sneak through the trees, moving closer to the crying until I find the source, until I find them. The hem of my dress drags in the dirt. My boots are squishy with water.
The woman is not alone.
I can hardly make her out in the darkness, but she’s there, lying on the shore, a large man kneeling beside her. I inch closer, my vision straining to take it all in. She’s young, hardly any older than myself. Her blonde hair is matted around her face, wet with water and blood. Her face is wild and afraid, eyes staring into night. Covered in blood, she’s nearly dead.
The man next to her is also young. Dressed only from the waist down, his muscled back glints in the darkness and is covered in a layer of sweat. His long blonde hair glistens with blood in the moonlight. He leans over her, muttering some kind of incantation. It’s not a language I understand, but something in me tingles with recognition. This isn’t a human language; it sounds like something that could be from Eridas.
How many creatures can use this ley line portal to travel between realms?
The idea of great and terrible beasts roaming this human forest sends me to my knees. Can I really do this? Can I really help? But I don’t have time to think about the what-ifs, not with this horror scene playing out only a few yards in front of me.
I move in even closer, unable to look away. The man has something in his hand. A stick? Bile rises in my throat as I realize what he’s doing with it. Crouched over her, holding her down with his weight, he’s got the girl’s shirt up and is carving something into her abdomen with the end of the stick, like it’s a knife, and not wood. She writhes and screams, begging him to stop, but he’s not the least bit deterred. And no matter how much she fights him, no matter when she pulls his hair, when she lashes out at him, drawing blood, he is utterly unmoved.
Anger grabs on tight. I can’t sit here and watch this mutilation.
Bringing whatever of my powers I can to the surface, I shift into my dragon, the trees around me cracking with the force, and I charge.
I slam into the man, throwing him off the girl with all the strength my dragon holds. He flies across the grassy meadow, arcing high, and then lands in a heap of limbs on the shoreline. It doesn’t stop him. His body shakes and rumbles, and changes. I growl, because that doesn’t make sense. Slowly, he stands, blood pouring, bones broken and cracked. But still, he stands. And a dark form steps away from his body. The broken man collapses in a pile of death, his eyes wide and vacant, shining in the reflection of the lake.
“He’s dead.” I shift back to human and give my assurances to the bloodied girl. But I don’t look at her, not when my gaze is stuck on the dark form that has emerged from the human man. Because it wasn’t my imagination. It was real.
I’ve seen it before. Not in person, of course, only the spirit elemental would allow that, but in many textbooks growing up. Everyone knows of the reapers. They are the spirits tasked to take magical souls from one realm to the next life. What is it doing here? And how am I able to see it?
It glides toward me, and I blink, still hoping this isn’t real. It can’t be. But it is.
The girl groans at my feet, her sobs weakening by the second. She’s losing too much blood. I kneel and scoop her up. I don’t know how to explain it, but something primal is drawing me to her. I can’t leave her here, not with that thing. I have to save her.
“We need to get out of here,” I say, hoping she’ll be able to help me do that. But her face is snow-white and the life within her eyes is fading fast. I shift her weight so I can carry her. She cries out, then whispers a name. I go still.
“Dean,” she says his name again. “I thought you were Dean.” Her head lulls to one side. She passed out.
The reaper knocks into us, sending us crashing to the ground.
Not only is the reaper real, it’s materialized from the spirit realm and into a physical being. Horror prickles through my entire body. How can this be? It leans over me, the hood covering its unknown face. Only two red eyes glow from within the inky darkness. It reminds me of the Sovereign Occultists, but it’s so much worse. Where an Occultist looks like a normal human, this thing is skeletal and putrid and death.
“There are two of you,” it hisses gleefully. “My master will be so pleased with me.”
Then it pounces. Claws dig into my leg, and it yanks me across the mud and rocks, back toward the girl I dropped.
The reaper grabs her too, dragging us toward the water. I kick out but its strength is incredible, built up by something much darker and stronger than magic alone. I scream and call my dragon to me, transforming to my truest form, catching the reaper off guard. I release my full power, snapping at it with my teeth and claws, drawing on the flicker of fire elemental burning within me now that I’m out of the cold. I let that fly loose, too.
The creature screeches, howling in pain, but it goes for the girl, still dragging her into the water. She’s passed out, and if he pulls her under completely, she’ll drown.
I block him, pushing him out of the way again. He flies across the meadow as the boy did, and stands just the same. From behind him, something massive and black appears. I recognize the dragon the second he comes into focus. It’s Dean.
We don’t hesitate. We charge. The reaper meets me halfway, wrapping its cold hands into my hide and pushing some kind of unknown magic into me. It’s cold as ice, and carries the scent of death with it. It sinks me to my knees, the pain racking through me, all the way to the tips of my wings. I cry out, death fast approaching, but I can’t give up yet. I refuse to go out like this.
Dean pushes him off and the reaper lets out a guttural moan.
I call on my magic once again and this time, find more fire there. It burns within me like a newly stoked furnace, and I release it into the reaper’s empty hole of a face. Dean stands at my side, joining me. We don’t let up. The fire flows from our roaring mouths as the creature falls to its knees. It screeches and burns and burns and burns to ash.
After a few minutes, after I’m sure there’s nothing left, I stifle the flames with the water elemental, bringing everything to a muddy, ashen mess. I manipulate the lake, rolling a wave over the pile of ash, washing it all away.
Dean is with the girl, kneeling at her side once again. I shift and join him and run my hands over her, checking her injuries. His face is drained of color, taking in the blood and the symbol carved into her stomach.
“Are you still here?” I ask, gently slapping her cheek. She doesn’t wake up.
Her chest is no longer moving.
“She has a pulse,” Dean says.
I let out a panicked breath. “Thank the Gods she’s still alive. How can we save her?”
“We have to get her to the hospital.”
I peer at him. I don’t know what this word means.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says. “Firstly, why you’re here. I felt your dragon come through the portal and I came straight away, but there’s no time. Hazel needs us.”
I’m exhausted, drained from using magic, and I can’t imagine shifting again to take her to the hospital place. This kind of exhaustion never happens back home. I don’t know how Dean manages it. We stumble toward a road. That’s good. It’s a start.
A high-pitched screech sounds through the still night. Red and blue lights flash against the tre
es. I freeze and dig my feet into the earth, expecting to battle with another terrible creature. What will it be this time? I don’t know if I can survive any more of this, my magic is so diminished.
“We can’t be here,” Dean says. He lays Hazel on the side of the road, guilt lighting every plane of his face.
“Come on,” he says, and sprints toward the tree line.
My legs don’t seem to want to work, I’m too mesmerized by what I’m seeing. Something shiny and fast bounds down the road toward me, coming to a halt as blinding bright lights of red and blue shine in my face. Is it an animal? A beast of some kind?
The thing opens and a man jumps out and runs toward me, arms stretched out and holding some kind of black contraption in his hands.
“Is she alive?” he calls out gruffly.
I nod, deciding it best to answer honestly. “But she won’t be for much longer. She needs the hospital.”
Another one of the flashing light beasts bursts from around the corner. It blares so loudly through the night that I have to cover my ears.
“Who did this to her?” the man asks, staring horrified at the girl’s mutilated stomach. He drops to his knees next to her. “Did you do this?”
Do I answer? Do I tell him about the reaper? “No,” I reply, beginning to shake. I should run, go find Dean, get away from here.
“Did you see who did it?”
I swallow, my knees growing weak. “Something evil did this,” I say and point back to the shore. “But it’s dead, now. I killed it.”
31
Hazel
I am filled with lead. My arms and legs are sinking into quicksand and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. I try to pry my eyelids open but they’re a million pounds. I groan, awareness seeping into the fogginess of my mind.
“Hazel?” The voice is far away. “Honey, are you awake?”
“Mom!” My eyes finally flutter open, bright lights glaring down. I groan again, but relief floods my system. “What happened?” My voice is hoarse and my throat is raw. “Where am I?” I try to sit up but a searing pain shoots across my abdomen and I’m forced back. And then I remember, I remember what he did to my stomach and I burst into tears.
“Oh, honey, it’s going to be okay.” Mom is right there, but she might as well be a million miles away, the emotions are a wild storm. I squeeze my eyes shut against the overwhelming onslaught.
“Let me get the light,” a second voice says, moments before the lights adjust to a dimmer setting.
The pain and tears and fear and emotions keep coming, one after another, until finally, it washes away enough for me to open my eyes once again. I look around, taking in the tiny hospital room. I’m hooked to all kinds of machines, little sticky tabs stuck all over my body, and a needle taped down and pressing into a vein in my left hand. Everything hurts.
“Where’s Landon?” I gasp, his name clings to my worst memory in a way that makes it hard to say it. But I can’t blame him entirely, can I? I saw what happened. He was possessed. He was hurting me but not of his own will. There was so much blood, but he couldn’t stop. It wouldn’t let him.
“It’s okay.” Mom leans over and grasps my right hand between hers, squeezing it tight. “Landon is dead. He can’t harm you anymore.”
“How?” Tears spring to my eyes. Landon didn’t deserve to die.
“Your friend saved you.” Mom nods toward someone standing by the door, shadowed by the drawn curtain around my bed. The mystery girl steps into the light with a little wave.
“Hi,” she says.
My eyes go wide. I know her, but I can hardly call her my friend. I’ve never met her before.
“Khali.” I swallow hard, putting the gorgeous face to the unique name. “You saved me?”
She bites her lip and smiles sheepishly. She’s as beautiful as she was in the images the dragon spirit sent me. Her long, wavy, dark brown hair shines perfectly, even under the fluorescents. Her eyes are large, wide set, and absolutely stunning, one of ocean blue, the other of rich soil.
She saved my life?
I try to remember her there that night, but after that thing possessed Landon and he started to carve into my stomach with nothing but a sharpened stick, the pain and blood and shock of it all became too much and I blacked out. My breathing speeds up just thinking about it and the little beeping on the machine races to match.
“It’s okay,” Mom says, running a hand gently down my hair and cupping my cheek. Tears rim her reddened eyes as she holds my gaze steady. “He can’t ever touch you again.”
I shake my head. “But it wasn’t Landon. He wouldn’t do that.”
A line deepens between Mom’s eyes. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to protect him. He’s gone.”
“I’m not worried about him.” Tears spring to my eyes and fear pummels my bruised body. “It’s that thing. It’s still out there.”
Khali steps forward gracefully, her posture perfect and her voice soft as cotton. She’s dressed in normal human clothing that’s nothing like the medieval stuff I saw in the visions. It fits her perfectly but she seems about as comfortable in the jeans and t-shirt as I am in high-heels. “May Hazel and I speak alone for a few minutes? I think I can help her feel better about what happened if I tell her what I did.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mom says, but I nod vigorously, and so she stands to leave. “All right. I’ll go tell the nurse you’re awake.”
As soon as she’s out the door, Khali perches on the edge of the bed and tells me the truth of what happened without hesitating. “Your friend was possessed by a reaper.”
I swallow hard. “Like a grim reaper?” It almost seems laughable had I not been there to witness it for myself. “But I never saw a scythe.” The word seems silly saying it aloud but then again, I’m past the point of the supernatural being anything remotely silly or fake.
She shrugs. “He was using Landon to perform some kind of ritual on you, I think because you have magic, and he needed someone in this realm with magic to get it to work.”
“I don’t have magic,” I challenge. Even as I say it, the words ring false.
She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t press the issue. “Anyway,” she continues, “I believe it completed the ritual because it took total possession of your friend.” She pauses for a second, as if weighing how this is affecting me.
“Please,” I say, “I need to know everything. I can handle it.”
“It was using a language I’ve only heard used by the Occultists. I don’t know what it means. But in the end, it killed Landon, hurt you, and took on a physical form.”
My eyes go wide. “Physical? Like you and me?”
She nods. “Reapers aren’t supposed to be able to do that. They’re creatures meant for the spirit realm only.”
Horror crashes over me and I struggle to sit up again. I have to get out of here. I have to do something to warn people about this. “It’s alive? It’s just walking around out there?”
“No,” she says flatly. “I killed it.”
I fall back against the pillow and let out a shuddering breath. “You can kill a reaper?” I question. “How does that work? Doesn’t it just go back to the spirit realm?”
She sighs, rubbing a hand along her shoulder. “It must be possible to kill it because I certainly did,” she says, “but as far as I know, a reaper has never done anything like this before. So truthfully, I don’t know if it simply returned to the spirit realm, but I don’t think it’s in the human realm anymore. This kind of reaper isn’t meant for humans. They’re for the supernaturals, like me. It shouldn’t have ever been here in the first place.”
So why was it here?
All this talk of realms and spirits is making my head hurt. I reach for the necklace around my neck, and then remember it’s gone. But no, that can’t be right, because it’s strung around my neck the same as it always is. But Landon broke it.
“Your friend brought that over a few hours ago,” she says. “A
lady with white hair? She insisted you needed it and your mom agreed. They had to fight the doctors about it but they won. What’s it for, anyway?”
I sigh in relief, running a finger over the little balls of cool stone. I don’t think I’m ready to trust this Khali girl with my secrets just yet, but as I look at her, I can’t help but sense we’re connected somehow. We’re cut from the same cloth, even if she is a magical dragon shifter and I’m… well, I don’t know what I am. I thought I would hate her, considering the man I’m falling for is clearly already in love with her, but I don’t hate her. Not even a little bit. She feels too familiar, too much like family.
“Hazel,” Dean’s gruff voice calls into the room as the door opens a crack. “Can I come in, please?” My heart explodes, the monitor picking it up. Khali raises an eyebrow and I could die. “I’ve been worried sick about you,” he continues from behind the slightly ajar door. “I’m so glad you’re okay. If Khali hadn’t gotten there in time, you wouldn’t have made it.”
Geez, I didn’t know he cared so much.
“Sure, come in,” I say, squeezing my eyes tight. I can’t see the look on his face when he finds Khali here. I don’t think my heart can bear it.
The door opens and shuts, and the room fades to silence.
“Khali,” he whispers. “You’re here too. I’ve been looking for you. What happened to you? Why didn’t you come with me?”
I can’t stand it anymore and open my eyes. Khali smiles and goes to him, wrapping him in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you,” she murmurs. “We have a lot to talk about. I really need your help.”
I wish I knew what they were talking about.
As if sensing my feelings, Khali pulls away from Dean and speaks, “Dean came and helped me finish the reaper off. When those people came to help you, he left but I stayed.”
