THE REAPER'S SCYTHE: THE LOCI CHRONICLES BOOK 1

by L P PATERSON

  Where the hell was Cymon? The car park was empty. A lot of the parking spaces were occupied, but none of the drivers were returning to their cars. "I'm not going anywhere." I told him. My eyelids felt as if they were weighted down with lead and my eyes were almost closed. "Stop it." I said. "Whatever you're doing. Stop it!"

  His grin flashed again. "I'm not doing anything Loci." he said. "I'm just advising you to go home." Maybe going home wasn't such a bad idea. I could catch up on some sleep and I wouldn't be a target for any crazy beings. Yes. Going home sounded good. "The Reaper does not need your help." he said. And I agreed. Why should I help Cymon? He had basically kidnapped me and forced me to help him, and he had put my life at risk... more than once. "He can find his scythe on his own." the man continued. Damn right he can. He had lost it on his own or like he kept saying, someone had stolen it. But it wasn't me that stole it and I wasn't there when it had been stolen so why should I put my life at risk to find it? I would go home and look in the loft.

  I was confused. Why did I need to look in the loft? I shook my head trying hard to clear it and to stay awake. Something was wrong. I had to help Cymon. I wanted to help him. Didn't I?

  I tried hard to open my eyes. I could feel my legs growing weak and knew that I would be lying flat on the ground at any moment if I did not stay awake. He was doing something to me. I didn't know what or how but my senses were muddled. I lifted my head which now felt like a heavy weight and saw that he had backed up a little. I had space to breathe but the cold was not helping to keep me awake. I could not fall asleep. I knew that I had to stay awake and alert otherwise I might end up dead. I had to fight. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek till the salty metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I kept biting down until the pain shifted some of the fog from my head. I reached out to try and push him away from me but he brushed my hand away as if it was paper. As he leaned in, I reached out and grabbed at his face and scraped down as hard as I could. I heard him gasp in pain just before I felt his fist connect with my face. As my body slammed into the car and I sank to the ground I couldn't help admiring his sharp reflexes.

  I stayed on the ground unable to move. I could barely lift my head and I felt a stinging sensation as my lip started to swell. I prayed for someone to come out to the car park to help me. I knew that if he hit me again, I would be out cold. I did not know how to fight and now was not a good time to learn. Behind the man I saw Clarice walking towards me. She came from the side of the building, the same direction that the man had appeared from. I could not believe that she would be my saviour but I lifted my hand up anyway, beckoning for help. She gave me that sneering look again just before everything erupted in a flash of blinding white light.

  CHAPTER 13

  "Audrey!" I heard Cymon's voice. Someone was shaking me hard and I struggled to open my eyes. "Audrey. Get up!" I opened my eyes slowly and stared at Cymon. His own eyes were wide and there was a slight tremor to his lips. I pulled away from him. I didn't want his worry or sympathy and I was very conscious of his touch. Reapers were cold and they brought death. He breathed a sigh as I came around, clearly relieved that I was fit to continue the search.

  "What happened?" I asked. Rogier was standing behind Cymon. He held something in his hand which looked like a crossbow. There was no bolt in it. The car park was still empty but the darkness and cold had lifted and the silver man was gone. I did not see Clarice anywhere either. "What happened?" I repeated as I scanned the car park for the waitress. She was nowhere to be seen.

  "You were attacked by a necromancer." Rogier replied. He turned to look at Cymon and I saw the Reaper lower his eyes, unable to meet Rogier's gaze. "It looks like he has gone... for now." Rogier turned to go back inside the bar. As he opened the door, I could hear music and voices coming from inside. The sounds of laughter and happiness annoyed me for some reason. I felt cheated that my life had been hijacked and while others were relaxing and having fun, I was having to figure out how to survive. Literally.

  "What the hell is a necromancer?" I asked Cymon. He shoved his hood back off his head and I was shocked to see how much paler he had become. His eyes looked even more sunken and there were now dark shadows beneath them. His skin looked paper thin and translucent and it was tightly stretched across his bones. He looked more like the image of a grim reaper that I was used to and I struggled not to pull away. Suddenly my throat felt tight and I swallowed hard to try and clear it.

  "A child of Death like me." replied Cymon.

  "Why is a child of Death trying to kill me? If you are both children of Death shouldn't you be on the same side?" I asked him.

  "Necromancers are not like us. They are different to reapers."

  "No kidding! Maybe they are different. But Death is still master of you both isn't she?"

  "Yes. But we reapers, we set the soul free. We offer release. Necromancers on the other hand they call the soul back, forcing it to return to this plane to be questioned."

  "So they create revenants?" I asked horrified.

  "No." said Cymon. "Revenants come back of their own will. Necromancers force the soul to come back. Death Risers if you will.” I remembered the Time Master's warning. “Death is their master just like she is mine. But there are a few necromancers who have gone rogue. I know of three. One has been dealt with already by my master. Necromancers are very powerful and Nero, the one who attacked you, is powerful and dangerous. He hasn't been seen for years and I'm not sure what drew him out now."

  "Your scythe. That's what drew him out. He knows that your scythe is missing." I said. "And I bet that Death knows as well."

  "Yes. You're right. If she doesn't know already, she soon will." he said. "We need to go Audrey. We have to get to the river. To the Thames."

  "Hey Cymon" I called. "You never answered my question." We were heading towards the Thames and we were walking again. I truly regretted not jumping on that red bike and just riding home.

  "What question?" he asked.

  "In the bar, back at Rogier's. I asked you why your scythe." He turned to look back at me as we walked.

  "I don't know Audrey. Maybe it can be any scythe."

  "Yeah. But why?" I was not giving up. I needed to know.

  Cymon stopped and turned to me, he gazed upwards and blew out a breath. His shoulders dropped slightly as he looked at me. I folded my arms across my chest and waited for the big reveal. And it was about bloody time too. Hunger and exercise were not my favourite traits and I was getting fed up with them both. If I was going to be tramping around London looking for a scythe I needed to know why.

  "Because I'm the foolish reaper who was not guarding his scythe properly

  Audrey." he said. I waited. There had to be more. "A scythe is a special and powerful thing. It reaps the souls from the dead. It literally cuts the cord that binds the soul to the physical body." He looked at me and I nodded for him to continue. "Reapers can only use a scythe to reap. My scythe in someone else hands though, means that I am not reaping and that..., that would upset the balance. Balance is key. If it is interfered with it will destroy the fragility of our worlds. That is why it's so important that I find my scythe. And soon."

  My eyes widened as I digested what he was telling me. I tried to respond but I was speechless which didn't happen very often. "You mean that someone intends to destroy our world using your scythe?"

  "I can't think of any other reason why it would be stolen." said Cymon. "But I don't know who or why. And it's worlds. The world that I know and am part of, and the world that you believed to be the only one."

  Panic rose inside me. I didn't want to die. But someone somewhere had the power to destroy everything by upsetting the balance.

  "Who would want to do that?" I asked.

  "Only a few can wield the full power of a scythe. But only one is on this plane." he replied.

  "Who?" I asked.

  "Death. My master." he said.

  "Death wants to kill people!" that didn't sound right.

>   "Death has no need to kill anyone. Everyone meets her in the end." said Cymon. A missing scythe that could create disruption to the reaping of souls and possibly destroy the world? I could see why he was worried.

  "Well if it's only Death that can use it in that way, then maybe it is just lost." I said hopefully. I received a scathing look from Cymon which told me that my assumption was unlikely.

  "I have already told you." he hissed. "I did not lose my scythe. It was stolen. That is why War will tell Death.

  CHAPTER 14

  Something was wrong with Cymon. He was getting paler by the minute it seemed and his movements were slow and awkward. I wondered how much further we had to walk, and if he needed to lean on me or if he even wanted to? I noticed a few stares coming our way. I supposed we looked strange, a tall lanky man dressed in black who appeared to be drunk as he tried to stay upright, accompanied by a woman with bright red hair who didn't seem to have a clue on how to help him.

  It seemed odd looking at the people passing by who were looking back at me. They had no clue that their world was overlapped by another which was so different. A world that was inhabited by beings from myth and legend, which I now knew was neither myth or legend but in fact reality. A reality that I was still having trouble coming to terms with. Even though I was part of this new world and clearly had been born into it, I was still confused and a little apprehensive. Why had this been hidden from me?

  Cymon stumbled and I instinctively reached out to catch him. As my hand touched his pale skin, I immediately felt ice cold. The cold quickly travelled from my hand and up my forearm before Cymon shrugged me off. He leaned over breathing heavily before making his way to the walled guardrail separating the street from the steep bank of the Thames where he propped himself. I turned back to the street. It was filled with tourists and city workers. Traffic roared past and I saw a few open top buses doing their regular tour of London. Everywhere I looked I saw people who were lost in their own tiny world of normal activity, dealing with whatever life was currently throwing at them. I suddenly felt weighted down with the task I had to complete. No one knew that the world was at risk. I was quite upset that I knew.

  "How much further?" I asked as I returned my gaze to Cymon.

  "We need to be on the river bank." he replied. "As close to the water as possible."

  "Why?"

  "Because we need to be near."

  Near to what I wondered. My experience in the time sphere indicated that the Thames was important to our search, but how I didn't know. The sun was beating down on us so it was still early in the afternoon. But our time was running out. War had given us a deadline and walking everywhere wasn't helping us to do things quick. I estimated that we had about six hours left, if that.

  "Well let’s go." I said.

  The Thames was brown and filthy. It didn't smell but I could imagine the squalid and disgusting things that were hidden beneath the grimy water. And for some reason it held the title of the cleanest city river in the world. I chose to differ. We stood on the side of the riverbank. I had never been this close to the river and it was not what I had been expecting. The tide was in and the small waves rose and fell lapping near to the edge of the concrete path on which we stood. It was nothing like the pebbled mud and sand bank that I had seen in pictures and I wondered if we really were on the edge of the Thames. But I had walked here with Cymon myself. There were a few trees overhanging the river near to where we stood and they created some shadow and shade. Cymon walked towards these and bending over he shouted at the river.

  "Cymon! What the hell are you doing?" I shouted.

  "I'm calling them." he replied.

  "Calling who? There's no one here Cymon."

  I looked around and the shadows seemed to be getting deeper but I did not see anyone or anything in them. I looked out across the water and saw the same thing. Nothing.

  "Give me access to the river. Please." Cymon shouted again.

  It seemed that he was making a request but I saw no one to receive it. He straightened up and staggered backwards. I moved towards him but did not touch him.

  "What's going on Cymon?" I asked. "Something is wrong. You don't look well."

  "I’m running out of time Audrey. I really need my scythe."

  "I know that. But we will find it."

  "No." he said. "You don't understand. My scythe sustains me. It gives me power and life. I have been without it for too long. If I don't get it back soon, I will get weaker and weaker."

  I felt my nostrils flare and the vein in my temple started pulsing. I wanted to thump him right in his face but I didn't.

  "Exactly what are you saying to me Cymon?" I asked.

  "I'm dying Audrey. If I don't find my scythe soon, I will die. Gone. Forever."

  "But you're already dead." I said. "Aren't you?"

  He turned away and I saw a small shake of his head. "I never died Audrey. Not all reapers are resurrections. But we all suffer the final death when it is time." He sighed heavily. "But the scythe. It sustains us. Each time we reap, the energy released, some of it is stored in the scythe and that is what keeps us 'alive'. Keep us going."

  "Bullshit Cymon!” I shouted. “You didn't think to lead with that? To let me know this from the start?"

  My mind flashed back to my room earlier that morning which now seemed an age ago. I remembered Mr Peters asking Cymon 'how long?' and Cymon replying that he 'still had time'. I remembered Papa Babash telling Cymon that he was ‘sorry’ after being told that the scythe was missing. They had both known. I was the only one ignorant, and nobody had bothered to tell me.

  Cymon threw his hands above his head. "What did you want me say?" he asked.

  "You could have told me the truth!" I shouted at him. "Given me some clue about what would happen."

  "I did Audrey." he said. "I asked you to help me find my scythe."

  "Yeah. And you told me it was to maintain the balance. You didn't mention that you would die if we didn't find it. You also never mentioned that you weren't already dead!" I shouted at him.

  Cymon rolled his eyes and at that point he chose to pull his hood up and turn away from me. "I'm not arguing about this Audrey. I don't have the energy for an argument."

  He walked to the edge of the path again and leaned over. I was about to turn and stomp off when I heard a voice.

  "Hi Cymon." it said.

  CHAPTER 15

  I quickly turned around and saw a young woman in the water. Well I saw her head and shoulders bobbing up and down. She looked to be in her late teens and while she bobbed up and down, she was grinning at Cymon as if her life depended on it. I walked towards the water to stand beside Cymon and I received a scowl from the woman. Her eyes lashed at me as if I had taken something that belonged to her.

  "Who's she Cymon?" This was another voice and I saw a second head in the water.

  "Yeah Cymon. Who's she?" a third voice asked.

  What the hell was going on? I turned to look at Cymon. Clearly, he knew these women but I wasn't clear on who they were or why they were suddenly there.

  "Hello ladies." said Cymon.

  "Hello Cymon." they all cooed. There were six of them now, all looking at Cymon with googly eyes as they bobbed up and down.

  God help me.

  "Who's she Cymon?" the question came again. From the first one this time.

  I rolled my eyes in frustration. They were all staring at me and in defiance I stared back. They shared the same features so I suspected that they were related in some way. Their skin tone was a dirty yellow in colour, like someone who was suffering a case of jaundice, the whites of their huge eyes were the same yellow colour but they had irises of deep brown. They were not pretty at all. They all had dirty brown hair which was cut close to the head and was filled with bits of mud and other debris. They had no ears, although I could see holes where the ear flaps should have been.

  "This is my friend Audrey, Lyra." said Cymon. Lyra wrinkled her nose. Although there wasn't mu
ch nose to wrinkle. Their noses were so flat it was almost non- existent. There seemed to be just two small holes in the centre of their faces. This sat just above a thin slash which served as a mouth.

  "Hi Audrey." said another one. "I'm Myra."

  "Hey Audrey. I'm Kyra." said another.

  "And I'm Ayra. Hi Audrey." said another.

  "Hello Audrey. I'm Tyra." another one said

  "Hi Audrey. I'm Sue." said the last one.

  The other five erupted into a fit of laughter and giggles at this last. Clearly Sue was the youngest and seemed to have escaped whatever naming tradition had occurred among her companions.

  "Shut up!" Sue screamed at them.

  "You shut up." said Myra. The others continued to laugh and giggle.

  I turned to look at Cymon again. He was breathing a little heavy but he seemed to be trying hard to keep this from the women in the water.

  "Audrey. These are the River Maidens." said Cymon. "Daughters of the River Lord." Who knew that the filthy Thames actually had a Lord, and mermaids. I was intrigued.

  "There are mermaids in the Thames?" I asked. I heard a loud gasp come from the water and I saw Cymon shake his head slowly and he took a deep breath.

  "Did she just call us-" said Myra.

  "No. I don't believe-" said Lyra.

  "Yes. She did. I heard-" said Tyra

  "Disrespect!" said Kyra.

  "Disrespect!" echoed Ayra. This was followed by echoing wails of the word ‘disrespect’ as they continued to bob in the water. My head was spinning and a sharp stabbing pain began at my temple. They were like gaggling geese and they were quickly getting on my nerves. They talked constantly with their high pitched echoey voices. It was jarring and irritating.