THE REAPER'S SCYTHE: THE LOCI CHRONICLES BOOK 1

by L P PATERSON

  "And then what did you do?" asked Papa Babash gently. Cymon slowed his pacing and turned to Papa Babash.

  "I panicked. I knew I could not reap the soul and I had to find my scythe. I was also scared. If I don't find my scythe..."

  "I know." Papa Babash said.

  "So, I found a portal. It brought me to the Loci."

  "Hmmn" said Papa Babash. "Does your master know?" my head swung to Cymon.

  Crap!

  His pacing stopped dead. I turned to look at Papa Babash and saw his eyes briefly close as his chest rose and fell in a deep breath. "Then who does know Reaper?"

  "The Lady War is aware. I have limited time before she tells my master." stated Cymon. "But something is wrong. I didn't lose my scythe. It was taken, and I don't know why or by whom." He rubbed the back of his neck as he started pacing again.

  Papa Babash unfolded himself from the sofa and walked towards Cymon. He gently placed a hand on Cymon's shoulder, forcing him to stop his pacing. "Reaper" he said. "There must always be balance. If the Lady War has given you some time to find the scythe then you need to use that time well. You know that finding it is the only way to help you. We need to know who has taken the scythe and where it is. Hopefully the Loci can assist you." They both turned to look at me.

  Great. Finally, they remembered that I was in the room. I shrugged my shoulders. Exactly what was I expected to do. I didn't know who stole the scythe or why they stole it. And, I didn't really care. All I wanted was to be rid of this guy and this weird and crazy reality that he had trapped me in. Papa Babash suddenly grinned at me.

  "So Loci, will you help the Reaper?" he asked. He said it in a way that was intended to be sweet. But I was not fooled. They didn't need my help. I knew nothing about being a Loci and I had no intention of being trapped into this search for a scythe.

  "No." I said calmly. "I don't know anything about being a Loci so I don't see how I will be able to help."

  "But you have already found your way to the Blackwood." stated Papa Babash "and the portal lead the Reaper to you. Obviously for a reason." He raised an eyebrow as his mouth lifted at the corners, clearly expecting me to respond with a positive answer.

  "I don't know how to help Cymon. So really, I think that it would be best if he just took me home. I'm sure there are many people who can help him better than I can." I said. "I would really just like to go home."

  "Unfortunately, Loci, you can't go home until the search is over and the artefact has been found. That is how it works. The portal leads the Reaper to you. You help him find the scythe and the portal returns you home." said Papa Babash. I wanted to scream at him and ask what the hell was he talking about? I didn't go through any portal so I didn't need one to take me back home. All I needed was for someone to show me the way. My home was in West London. In Wembley. I was used to traffic and noise and football. This world where you could be killed by shadows or leather clad women was not mine!

  I wanted to help Cymon. I really did, but I didn't know how. There was no point in me being around if I was of no use. Convincing Cymon and Papa Babash of that would be hard.

  "Loci. It is strange that you do not know your power." said Papa Babash. He smiled as he said it and the biting words that I wanted to say died in my throat. "You must go to Bertran's and speak to Rogier." he turned to Cymon as he said it. "Yes. You must go to Rogier and use his time sphere. That will 'unlock' the Loci.”

  "What do you mean 'unlock' me?" I asked. "I'm not locked and I don't need 'unlocking'.”

  "Audrey, yes.” said Cymon. “Maybe that way you can help me. If we can unlock your power then you can help." he pleaded. I looked from Cymon to Papa Babash and back again. There was a different level of crazy now going on. I was not a door or some cupboard or box. How on earth was I going to be unlocked?

  "And exactly how am I to be unlocked?" I asked. My impatience was growing and my tolerance levels were getting really low.

  "If we can access the time sphere then we can figure out how to do the unlocking. The good thing with the time sphere is that once we are inside then time won't matter. We can take as long as we want or as long as you need." Cymon said. A wide grin spread across his face as the gleam in his eyes intensified. A tight smile formed across my own face and I slowly took a few steps back, ensuring that I was beyond grabbing reach. The strain was getting to him. He was losing it and I couldn't get caught up.

  "Okay." I said. I would play along for now. If I could help I would, but right now I couldn't see how that was going to happen.

  "Excellent!" said Papa Babash. "Now, let us eat."

  Now that was the best thing that he had said since we got there.

  CHAPTER 7

  I walked into the car park with Cymon. The small area was filled with cars and vans. I even saw a moped neatly parked up next to the iron railings that surrounded the small lot. There were empty bottles strewn on the ground near the railings and the bins were so overloaded that most of the refuse danced around on the ground with the movement of the wind. It didn't smell or look too bad, but I was convinced that there were things living in the small bushes. Although it was the middle of the day, parts of the yard were so dark that I couldn't see clearly where the building met the ground and I felt as if we were being watched. It wasn't a nice feeling. It was a stark contrast to the Blackwood and I wondered if this also was a glamour intended to deceive the eye.

  "Are you sure we're in the right place?" I asked Cymon. It seemed to be derelict. I couldn't hear any noise. No voices or music. Nothing. This was supposed to be a bar but a morgue had more activity.

  "We're in the right place" Cymon answered. "The entrance is around the back."

  Not only was the place as creepy as hell, but I had to now go around the back where no one would be able to see me if I needed help. We walked around the side of the building heading towards the back. It seemed that it became lighter as we continued. The shadows were less and the space opened up more until we were standing at the back of the building in a secluded but very well maintained second parking lot. This one was a little larger than the one in front. It was clean and bright. There were no overflowing bins or rolling bottles. The cars were neatly parked and each one looked to be less than a year old. It was clear that the patrons of the bar were very wealthy. We walked past the row of cars towards the back of the building where a few steps led up to the entrance. Above the door a large sign stated the premises as Bertran's Bar and Diner Est 1701. I didn't want to walk into that place first. I knew it would be full of supernatural people. People who were common to this world of which I was quite new, and I wasn't prepared for that yet.

  I slowed my pace and turned slightly to allow Cymon to go ahead of me and my eyes landed on the beautiful sleek body of a motorbike. This place was playing with me. It was the colour of deepest night. A deep black that I'm sure had hints of the deepest blue. The colour seemed to move and blend in the light, changing from a deep black to an intense navy and then a deep grey. It was mesmerising. It kept changing, merging and weaving through different shades to create the deep solid dark colour.

  I was drawn towards it and my feet involuntarily changed direction. I slowly walked towards the bike and a soft "wow" escaped my lips. Close up it was even better. The deep black of the body was so deep and rich it looked like you could lose your hand within it if touched. The handlebars were black leather and even the metal trims were deepest black. It looked like a monster birthed by Night. I reached my hand out to gently brush the soft leather seat.

  "Leave it alone!" I almost fell as I jumped back. My heart thudded in my chest and a loud scream nearly escaped my throat as Cymon’s voice rang in my head.

  "What the hell Cymon? Do you want to kill me?"

  "No. I want you to live. That's why I'm trying to stop you from getting yourself killed." he said.

  "Well this one isn't red is it? And I can't sense anything. I'm just admiring a beautiful piece of machinery that's all."

  "Step away from the
bike Audrey, and let's go." he said.

  I looked back at the motorbike longingly as we climbed the few stairs to gain entry to the bar.

  The first thing to hit me was the noise. There was music playing in the background. I was not expecting it to be rock music but somehow it matched the atmosphere in the room. The bar was packed full of people. The lighting was dim but I could see there were several booths along the side wall, all of which were occupied. On the other side of the room there was a bar where several people were standing, noisily placing orders or trying hard to gain the attention of the bar staff.

  A small woman burst through the swing doors at the side of the bar carrying large wide tray's which were laden with plates of food. She expertly weaved through the crowd and delivered the orders to several tables where they were readily received. Instantly she turned and headed back towards the swing doors from which another woman, a younger one this time, came through. She also carried trays laden with food. This woman was tall and thin. Her brown hair hung limp from her head and her complexion was sallow. Her light skirt flowed around her and seemed to cling to her narrow hips for fear of falling to the floor. She delivered the plates of food to the waiting patrons and turned to return to the kitchens.

  A hand snaked out and caught the young woman by the wrist. She tried to pull away but it held on tightly. I followed the hand till I saw the face of the person it belonged to. It was hideous. My mouth dropped open and my eyes grew wide. What the hell was that? I stepped back in shock and bumped into Cymon, who promptly stuck his hand into the small of my back and shoved me forward. A wave of cold radiated through me from the point of his touch but I was too focused on the creature ahead of me to notice too much.

  "What is it?" I asked Cymon. I really wanted to remove the image of the thing from my head but I just couldn't tear my eyes away.

  "A revenant." Cymon replied, as he shoved me further into the room. He kept his head down and headed towards the bar. Taking me along with him. The thing that I was looking at, the revenant, as Cymon called it, was still holding tight to the woman's wrist. It was shaped like a man and was clothed in dark trousers and a dark shirt that looked as if it belonged to a previous century. The hair on its head was full and thick but it moved on its own like if it were alive, and the face was gone. It was as if there was an empty space where the features of the face should have been. Then a pink mass of flesh, lumpy in places and smooth in others, would suddenly appear in the space. The flesh had no features. It was just lumpy, bumpy flesh. This morphing cycle continued endlessly and I struggled to understand why I was the only person who was freaked out by this. No one else in the bar seemed to notice.

  Then I heard someone shout "Let Clarice go!" this was followed by a few grunts and the revenant let the woman go. As she passed by me heading towards the kitchen, I saw Clarice's face was screwed up with rage and I stepped out of her path.

  "What is a revenant Cymon?" I asked again. "And why is it here?" There were so many people in the bar but everyone, except the revenant, looked to be human. I wanted an answer from Cymon because I needed to know what sort of beings formed this new world that I had been forced to enter.

  "A revenant is a lost soul. It returns from the dead. Even though we have reaped it from its host body it refuses to move on.” he said “The soul re - inhabits the body but the connection that makes a person alive has already been severed through the reaping. And so it returns as a revenant. It's very sad. That one is always bothering the waitresses, particularly Clarice."

  Poor Clarice I thought to myself. It didn't sound sad to me. It sounded like something from a horror movie. "You mean like a zombie?" I asked. I really didn't need to be around this type of thing neither did I want to see it. I turned to lean on the bar.

  "Similar. A zombie is reanimated and called from the dead. But a revenant returns from the dead of its own accord, with its soul.” he said as he looked across at the revenant. “But the soul and the body don't fully reconnect. Revenants are the despair of every reaper. They remind us that we can fail in our duty."

  I had heard enough and looked up to survey the rest of the room. There were so many people there and I couldn't tell if there were any humans present or not. The revenant was the only being who was glaringly different, although I knew that I was standing in a room full of supernatural beings. I recognised a few reapers only because they were thin and extremely pale like Cymon, and because they carried a scythe. I looked at Cymon anxiously. He didn't have a scythe. Others would notice. He seemed to read my thoughts. "Don't worry about that. We carry our scythes in many ways. Look over there." he said.

  I turned to look in the direction in which he tipped his chin. By the far wall I saw two reapers, a woman and a man. He was leaning against the wall, tall and slender with the same pale skin as the rest of his kind. He had a drink in his hand and tipped his head back, laughing at something that the woman had just said. Leaning on the wall beside him was a scythe. The handle was made of thick wood which was a rich mahogany colour. It shone brightly and I hoped that was due to polish rather than use. The blade sprung from the top of the wooden column and curved to the side in a gentle arc. The metal shined brightly as if rust would not even dare to place itself anywhere near it. The scythe was almost as tall as the room in which we stood and I wondered if this reaper was compensating for something.

  The woman he was speaking to was almost as tall as him and just as pale. I couldn't see her scythe. There was nothing near to where she stood. But when I looked a little closer, I saw a tiny flash on her neck and noticed the small silver pendant hanging on a chain there. I turned to look at Cymon again.

  "You see. No one needs to know. Not yet anyway."

  "Then how did War know?" I asked. My eyes narrowed as I looked at him. What was he not telling me?

  "Because she is a Horseman!" I saw his hand close into a tight fist as it lay on the bar. "Don't you get it? The Horsemen are at the top. They know everything." he replied.

  "I'll tell you what I get." I said, raising my voice slightly while still whispering. "You turned up out of nowhere and asked for my help. In fact, you demanded my help. What is so special about you Cymon?” my hand rapped on the counter top as I looked at him. “There are loads of reapers here, and probably a lot more who are not here. And they all have their scythes. So why yours? Why is your scythe suddenly missing? And who took it?" I was not in the best of moods. I was hungry again. The meal we had eaten with Papa Babash had been good but we had used up a lot of energy getting from the Blackwood Estate to Bertran's Bar and I needed sustenance. Again. I was feeling frustrated that I didn't know how to function in this world. On top of that I was beginning to doubt the person I was meant to be helping. I ran my hand over my face and rolled my shoulders. This was all too much. I needed food.

  A plate filled with food appeared in front of me as if by magic. This was followed by a large glass filled with a red drink. I didn't know what it was but it looked good. I grabbed the fork which was placed next to the plate and lifted my hand to attack the chicken which looked absolutely wonderful and smelled even better.

  "Wait!" said Cymon. He barked out the command so sharply that the whole room immediately hushed. Even the music seemed to have quieted. I swallowed as I realised that all eyes were now looking at us. What was happening? Was the food poisoned?

  "Eat Reaper." I heard a voice say. "Your companion looks like she needs the food." I looked up to see a silver haired man standing behind the bar. He was polishing a glass while staring at me. His face was hard and he looked to be no more than thirty-five years old, but the silver hair made him appear older. His blue eyes bore into mine and my head felt dizzy. Next to him was the tall thin woman who had been held by the revenant. She placed a second plate of food on the bar, this one in front of Cymon, followed by a glass of the same red liquid. I turned to look at Cymon wondering what we were waiting for, but his head was bowed.

  "You may eat freely Reaper. With no obligation of payment a
nd no request for debt." said the man. I raised my fork again.

  "Wait Audrey." said Cymon. His head was still bowed as if waiting for something.

  "You may eat freely Audrey. With no obligation of payment and no request for debt." repeated the man. I turned to look at Cymon. He gave a very slight nod and started to eat. I immediately followed, tearing into the food hoping it wouldn't suddenly disappear before I had satisfied my hunger.

  "Thank you Rogier." said Cymon.

  The food tasted so good and I felt my head nodding gently as a soft hum escaped my lips. The chicken was full of flavour and was laced with seasonings I could barely comprehend. The vegetables I did not recognise. Something vaguely tasted like potatoes and I spared a single moment to ask myself if the whole meal had really been conjured by magic. But it was just one moment, and my hunger and the need to fill my belly somehow dismissed any doubts that I was having about what I was actually eating.

  Finishing my meal, I gave my belly a small rub and reached for the red drink. I looked up to see both Cymon and Rogier looking at me. Rogier seemed impressed. I felt my lips flatten to a thin line and I folded my arms across my chest as I stared back. "What?" I asked.

  "Nothing." said Cymon as he turned back to focus on his own meal. Rogier laughed and went back to wiping the counter before he picked up a glass and moved further down the bar to serve someone.

  "Are you sure it's nothing?" I asked. " Can a girl not eat a meal in peace around here?"

  "Is that what you call it? Eating?" he replied. "It looked to me like you just shovelled everything into your mouth without even looking or chewing."

  I did not respond.

  I turned away to survey the room again. I really didn't care what he thought about my eating etiquette. I had been starving and now I was satisfied. I was relieved that he and Rogier were the only ones who had noticed though. I placed my elbows on the bar and leaned back. The red liquid, whatever it was, tasted good. I took another sip as I looked around.