The Book of the Reaper

by Eric Asher

Nixie grabbed my hand and we slid off the dragon, falling some ten feet to the spongy deck below.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as my shoulder bounced off one of the bony supports between the much softer sinew.

  For the briefest moment, everyone on the deck froze, and then Sam crushed me in a hug. The entire crew returned to the battle after that.

  “Kill some stuff, would you?” Sam asked, squeezing me again before sprinting back to the ship’s wheel.

  Gaia kneeled and frowned at Nixie. “You have the Eye of Atlantis. Use it upon the cannons.”

  Nixie followed as the Titan led her over to the crew and she held out the Eye. Blue lightning arced into the cannon as Gaia fed her own power into it, and a terrible smile crossed the Titan’s face.

  Gaia turned to the upper deck. “Graybeard! We have need of a clear path to the usurper.”

  The parrot wobbled on his skeleton’s shoulder. “Yeh heard the lass. Hard to starboard!”

  No one made a sound as the skeleton at the cannon ripped the cord on the igniter, and the barrel flashed with a savage blue light. The boom shook the deck around them, and a crackling ball like a blue and yellow sun slammed into the nearest usurper.

  It didn’t slow as it tore through the Eldritch flesh and exploded from the other side. Sprays of gore coated the battlefield, and the usurper listed to one side before turning its attention to the Bone Sails.

  “Again!” Graybeard cackled from his perch.

  Sam followed me as I hurried to the gray cloak near the far railing and slowed, my hand extended before I dropped it to my side.

  “Zola.” I waited for my master to turn and face me.

  Her cane smoked as she turned to me. “Damian.” Zola’s mouth twitched, and I didn’t miss the tear she fought back.

  “I need the dagger. I have to end this.”

  Zola didn’t ask what I meant. She simply pointed to Sam, who handed it to me.

  “If I don’t make it back. Thank you, for everything.”

  Zola placed a hand on my cheek. “It’s on you, boy. Find your fate. Or destroy it.”

  I clenched my fist together, feeling the resistance of Gaia’s magic as if I still held her hand, as if she still walked with me as the cannons boomed once more from the Bone Sails, and I stepped into the Abyss.

  * * *

  I needed only to think about my destination, the ruined wall, the rubble, and the gravemakers, and I felt the pull in my gut as I exited that golden-lit Abyss.

  On the other side, in another realm, I looked down at Edgar’s flickering armor, caked in mud and the ruin of Fae as black pitch spewed from Morrigan’s hands, crashing against the shield of Gwynn Ap Nudd.

  Her eyes found me for a moment, the blink of an eye, and it gave me away.

  Nudd spun as I closed on him with the splendorum mortem, started to dodge as the blade severed the fringe of his hair, but he wasn’t fast enough. It slid neatly into his neck and his eyes widened.

  But I’d killed with the blade before. He should have fallen. Should have collapsed. And then I heard what Morrigan was screaming.

  “He has a Key of the Dead!”

  There, glinting where it was sheathed in his chest like a broach, sat a Key of the Dead like no other. Crisp and clear runes and sigils shone in the gray light that pulsed around it.

  Nudd smiled a death’s head grin as he ripped the splendorum mortem from his neck, twisted it free of my grasp, and lunged at the Morrigan. The blade slid through her shield as if it wasn’t there, but Nudd himself bounced off it, his hand shattering with the impact.

  Edgar climbed to his knees and blasted Nudd with the fury of a mage solis, digging deep into the wound on the Mad King’s neck.

  Nudd screamed as I reached around him, scorching my arm in the heat of Edgar’s incantation as I grasped the Key of the Dead, and tore it away.

  Nudd’s hands flew to his chest as blood exploded from the wound in his neck like a champagne bottle uncorked. He tried to speak, but only blood and the gurgle of a drowning man escaped his lips.

  I grabbed the splendorum mortem from the mud and blood at his feet and slammed it into his head, twisting so the blade broke off and the demon knife, forged by the fallen smith, was no more.

  Nudd collapsed into the ruin of his own making.

  The Mad King was dead.

  * * *

  I slid the shattered hilt of the blade into my pocket like some kind of morbid keepsake before offering Edgar a hand.

  He blew out a breath and took it, giving me a nod once he was back on his feet. “Good to see you, Damian. Fight’s not over yet.”

  In the distance, the last usurper fell to the blasts of power coming from the Bone Sails.

  “You are wrong, Edgar.” Morrigan’s words drew our attention back to the empty armor of Gwynn Ap Nudd. The old crone once more, Morrigan turned the helmet of the Mad King over in her hands and caught the broken blade that fell out. “One less thing to worry about.”

  “Be careful with that.” I held my hand out toward Morrigan.

  She shook her head. “Oh, it is quite inert. Can you not see that all the magicks that once cursed this blade fled when it shattered?”

  I let my hand fall back down to my side. “I hoped it would. The fewer of Mike’s weapons left in the world, the more likely he is to live a long life.”

  Morrigan let out a low laugh at that. “Still naïve boy, still naïve.” She slid the tip of the splendorum mortem into a pouch at her waist. “A souvenir, if you are amenable.”

  “Sure.” I picked up Nudd’s Key of the Dead from the mud at my feet.

  The circle of Unseelie Fae around us had thinned. A handful of them had swords drawn, but I could see the rushed exchange of words as they slowly inched away from the three of us and the armor of the Mad King in the mud, closer to the surrounding gravemakers.

  Edgar turned to face the nearest of them. “Leave this place. Tell your allies the Mad King is dead. And trouble this realm no more.”

  The first of the Unseelie Fae charged Edgar, and I raised a shield, ready to begin the fight anew. But a blade sprang from the Unseelie Fae’s throat, slicing through as his wings stuttered and he fell to the ground to bleed out before his dying screams filled the air.

  Another Unseelie stood behind him, sheathing his sword before bowing slightly to Edgar. The fairy blew three short whistles and took to the air on nearly transparent wings.

  I didn’t relax until the loose circle around us withdrew in earnest, taking to the skies over Falias and retreating from view. It continued like that for some time, more whistles going up before the Unseelie Fae and their allies had all departed.

  When the last of the lamprey beasts stilled upon the ground, and the towering usurpers lay dead, Morrigan spoke.

  “The last war of the Mad King is done.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Vicky stood at Nixie’s side when the last volley fired from the cannons of the Bone Sails. Gaia stepped away from the railing and studied the damage done to the ship.

  Graybeard cursed as his skeleton helped move the ship’s wheel, sending the now one-legged parrot to wobble about on his shoulder perch. A few of his crew sat against the cabin, missing legs or arms from the exchanges they’d fought.

  Vicky knew they’d need to return to the Burning Lands to be whole again. Some of them would take a long time to heal, but she’d seen them come back from worse. But Graybeard was different. He’d been made by Damian, and Vicky wasn’t sure if the parrot could regenerate.

  Not far away, closer to the bow, Frank lowered his cannon as Sam wrapped her arms around him. Luna gave Drake an awkward high-five as the Demon Sword rejoined them on the deck. The two reapers resumed their furball forms, nestling up against the ghost panda near the ship’s stern.

  But it wasn’t until the air rippled beside her, and Damian stepped through, tripping over one of the bony supports and falling on his face, that Vicky truly felt the battle was at its end.

  “Fuck.”


  Nixie crouched and patted him on the back. “A graceful entrance for a prince.”

  Damian turned his head, revealing a wide grin somewhat out of place among the torn clothes and blood staining his face. Nixie pulled him up to his feet, and he brushed at his shirt, doing nothing to rid it of the filth ground into it.

  Nixie gave him a small kiss and then cringed away. “By the gods, you need a shower.”

  Gaia studied the pair before meeting Vicky’s gaze. The Titan offered a small smile and looked to the west. “Rivercene still calls to me. Many green men remain there, and I owe thanks to the priestess and her coven. When you are done upon this battlefield, and rested from these ordeals, come find me. The earth cries to me, and I will not abandon it.”

  “Thank you.” Damian looked up at the goddess as she stepped forward and disappeared into the Abyss. He turned his attention to Nixie. “It’s over.”

  Happy’s voice boomed through the air around them as he extricated himself from the furballs. “I must return to Faerie. Ward and the Old Man need to know what’s happened here. Welcome home, Damian Vesik.”

  The ghost panda shimmered and vanished from the decks of the Bone Sails without another word.

  Edgar joined them a short time later, his armor dented and tarnished, nothing like the brilliant gold they were so used to seeing.

  “Morrigan is redirecting the Obsidian Inn to raid Falias.”

  Vicky stepped toward the Watcher. “Raid it?”

  Edgar inclined his head. “To ensure the dark-touched and the Unseelie have truly fled. There are always stragglers. Those left behind who may not pose a threat to the city as a whole, but who may be a danger to the citizens of Falias.”

  “I’ll stay and help the Obsidian Inn,” Drake said. “The Morrigan deserves my help for the trust she placed in me. The Unseelie are cunning. Edgar and the Morrigan are right to hunt for stragglers.”

  “I’ve seen that before.” Terrence’s voice drew Vicky’s attention to the deck with the ship’s wheel. “It’s smart to root them out.”

  “Foster?” Damian asked. “Aideen?”

  “I’ll find them,” Drake said. “They were in deep with the Obsidian Inn last I saw. Battling beside two of the Utukku and Dirge.”

  “I think I’m ready to go back to Greenville and be dead again.” Terrence sighed and leaned against the railing.

  “Not staying with Dirge?” Vicky asked.

  The ghost shook his head. “Hell no. Going to Missouri, where I belong. Dirge will be home soon enough, I’m sure.”

  Zola stood just behind the ghost, and Vicky didn’t miss the moisture on the old Cajun’s cheeks as she wiped it away and came down the stairs. She patted Vicky on the shoulder as she walked by and made for Damian.

  Damian held his arm out as if asking for a hug, but instead Zola smacked him across the cheek. Not hard enough to do any real damage, but certainly hard enough that he felt it.

  From one moment to the next, Zola went from a scowl to hugging her apprentice. Vicky grinned at the pair, while Nixie laughed beside them.

  Damian looked up to Graybeard. “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  No one knew why the dark-touched had abandoned Nudd at what could have been his ultimate victory, but frankly, Vicky didn’t care. The nightmare of what he’d wrought upon his people and the commoners was at an end. It would take time to heal, decades to rebuild, and she had no illusions that it was going to be easy. But for then, at that moment, with Nixie and Damian and Luna on the deck of the Bone Sails, there was peace.

  Their first stop took them to St. Charles, where Damian headed back to his apartment with Nixie for a much, much needed shower. Gravemakers didn’t smell nice on a good day, and being trapped inside them for multiple days? Vicky shivered.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to stop, lass?” Graybeard asked.

  Sam shook her head. “We can shower at Rivercene easily enough. Vik and Dominic are still there. We should go.”

  Graybeard nodded and tapped out orders on the bones of the ship’s wheel. The crew got to work, a bit slower than normal with the casualties below, but fast enough. Before long, they were on their way up the Missouri River.

  Zola dozed off leaning against one of the cu siths. Vicky couldn’t tell which one from the angle, but sleep sounded like a hell of an idea. Luna was sprawled out on her back, snoring like a train in what was a terribly unnatural position for a death bat to sleep in.

  Vicky pulled out her phone and frowned at the new crack at the edge of the screen. It still worked, at least, but the little spiderweb in the corner was going to drive her nuts. She dialed her parents’ line and waited for someone to answer.

  “Vicky?”

  “Hey, Dad. I just wanted to let you know we’re okay. I’ll be in Boonville for a little bit. But we got Damian back. I think we’re all okay.” She didn’t say anything about their friends who wouldn’t be the same, or the allies they’d lost, because her parents didn’t know them. They didn’t need that kind of burden. Didn’t need to know how close things had come to turning out far worse.

  She paused. “And thanks for calling me Vicky.”

  Vicky heard the phone click over to speaker before her mom spoke. “Well, we have to call you Vicky, dear. We got the paperwork in yesterday. I know you’ve been wanting to change your name.”

  Vicky’s chest tightened. “I thought … I thought you weren’t going to sign the paperwork.”

  “We did it months ago, as a surprise. You went through all that trouble to get your letter notarized. It was the least we could do.”

  “Thank you.” Her words were quiet, but she’d hidden the worst of the tears from her voice.

  Vicky said her goodbyes and hung up, taking a deep breath as the wind blew back her hair.

  “Good folks yeh have there, I’d say.”

  Vicky looked up toward the ship’s wheel and smiled at Graybeard. “They are, Graybeard, they really are.”

  * * *

  Back at Rivercene, things didn’t look too out of place if you ignored the corpses of the pines piled around the yard and the stinking rot of a dismembered leviathan in the river. Leviathans might decay fast, but not fast enough as far as Vicky was concerned. She scraped her tongue on her teeth and headed toward the mansion.

  “Greetings, Vicky.”

  Vicky looked up and smiled at Stump. He appeared a bit worse for wear after his battle with the Eldritch things, but the green man was far more intact than his enemies.

  “I’m happy to see you.” She gave the rough bark of the green man’s leg a hug before Luna dragged her away.

  “Let’s go inside before he regales us with the story of what happened here.”

  “It is quite a tale,” Stump said. “And one I will tell you in exquisite detail at a later time. For now, I must consult with my brothers and sisters as there are many choices that must be made.”

  Vicky wanted to ask him what he meant, but she also wanted to find a nice soft couch to sit down on immediately. “Looking forward to it!”

  The door opened as Vicky approached. Voices sounded inside, though she couldn’t see who had opened the door. And when she walked through, no one was there. She followed the voices to the great room with the old piano.

  Beth and Ashley were camped out on the couch with what looked like mugs of hot cocoa. Vicky’s eyebrows rose a little higher when Gaia rounded the corner, ducking through the doorway, carrying five more mugs in her left hand.

  Part of her thought the old Titan would’ve left Rivercene—and perhaps she still would—but another part of her was happy to see Gaia back.

  Zola slid around Vicky and took a mug from Gaia before finding her own seat on the piano bench. A blur shot by Vicky, and Sam squeaked when Dominic crushed her in a hug.

  “And Vik?” Sam asked after she was able to gasp for breath.

  “Resting. He’ll live, but I suspect he’ll be grumpy for some time.”

  “So about the same, then
.”

  The enforcer grinned at Sam and led her through the wide doorway to a seat at the dining room table.

  Zola slid off the bench and coaxed Beth and Ashley into the dining room too. Something rustled in the hood of her cloak before she pulled out a squawking, half-decayed parrot.

  “I’ve never been so undignified.”

  Zola blew out a laugh and sat the bird on the table. “Ah don’t believe that for a second.”

  Graybeard wobbled and narrowed his eyes.

  Gaia finished passing out the mugs before crouching down next to the table and studying the parrot. “I believe I can help you with that.”

  Graybeard balanced on one foot like a stumpy pigeon before toppling over once more, muttering. “It would be much appreciated, lass.”

  Gaia scooped up the parrot and studied the remnants of his skeletal leg. A golden glow came from her palm, motes of power like the stars of the Abyss gathered as a small sapling sprang from Gaia’s palm. A slender thing that widened slightly at the bottom, she coaxed it to grow in a tight spiral around the parrot’s leg.

  She sat the bird back on the table where he wobbled in anticipation, then remained upright. Graybeard spread his wings and kicked out his new peg leg, studying it briefly before balancing on it once more.

  He walked across the table, each step clicking with the impact from his new leg.

  “Aye, that will work. It is much appreciated.”

  Gaia crossed her arms on the table. “It is good to be able to help friends. It is good to be free.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  It was a gift just to be alone with Nixie again, something I hadn’t been sure would ever happen. We didn’t talk much about our time apart. I was sure we would, but sometimes it was best to be in the moment, just be with the person you loved, and let everything else fall away for a time.

  “Get your pants on,” Nixie said. “We need to catch up with the others at Rivercene.”

  “Hey, extra naked time was your idea.”

  “Shut up,” Nixie muttered, slapping me on the ass.