by Silver, Ruth
She breathed in the scent of berries and bread. An odd combination. Her stomach growled once again. Perhaps what she smelled was coming from the kitchen downstairs? She didn't have time to check. She snuck through the castle, tiptoeing down stone stairs until she reached the bottom floor. A guard stood by the keys. There was no way Leila was going to be able to talk her way into the prison. He wouldn't recognize her. She stood at the corner of the stairs, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the darkness.
“Come on, can't I get a glass of water?” Larkin asked.
The guard cleared his throat. “Fine. One glass.” He stomped toward the stairs, and Leila shuffled back into the shadows. The guard walked by, not even slowing down. Leila didn't waste a beat. She rushed toward the cellar, finding the keys.
“We have to get you out of here,” Leila insisted.
Larkin's eyes narrowed as he studied the petite red-haired girl. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I'm a friend of Ophelia's.” It was all she could say without sounding insane. “You're in danger.” She knew her father well enough to know that if she was dead, someone would pay the price for her life.
“I can't leave,” Larkin said. “Trust me, I want to, but King Philip isn't going to stop looking for me. I'm a wanted man. There's nowhere for me to hide.”
“I can take you someplace safe, far from Casmerelda.” Was she stupid for suggesting it? Violetta had a boy over, couldn't she do the same?
Larkin turned his back and walked toward the wall. He took a seat on the cold floor. The cell had some hay on the ground, nothing else to sleep on. It looked awful. “It doesn't matter.” His voice was sullen, heartbroken. “She's gone. I have nothing left here anyhow.”
“You can't say that. She wouldn't want you to live like this or die here.” She couldn't tell him who she was, but she could make him remember how he felt.
“No.” Larkin leaned his head back against the cold bricks. His legs stretched out in the cell, nearly reaching the bars. “She lied to me. She didn't love me or care about me. She used me. If you knew her, you know that. Ophelia was selfish.”
Larkin hadn’t wanted to believe it was true, that Leila was dead. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw her lifeless body.
He didn’t mean to worry about Leila, but inwardly he scolded himself for not walking her outside. He should have been the gentleman he was taught to be. He exited the tavern and briefly asked the stranger mounting his horse if he’d seen Leila. No such luck.
Larkin walked off into the woods behind the bar. It took a moment for his eyes to adapt to the dark. The lantern was out. “Leila?” Silence answered him.
Larkin followed the dirt path up to the latrine. She’d be pissed with him for interrupting her, but he’d deal with it. He stumbled, tripping on something lying along the path. His heart quickened. “Leila?” Larkin hoped it wasn’t her, but it was definitely a body. He felt for a pulse, searching for any sign of life as he pulled back the cloak, revealing her lifeless face. “No!”
Refusing to leave her in the woods alone, he lifted Leila’s body into his arms and carried her into the tavern. “Help!” The music and laughter vanished as quickly as the horror set in. “Is anyone a doctor?”
Whispers and soft murmurs erupted amid the crowd. A gentleman stepped forward, searching her neck for a pulse. “It’s too late.”
“It can’t be.” Larkin refused to give up and believe she was dead. “Maybe she’s cold.” Her skin was pale, with no hint of color. He removed his coat and covered Leila’s body to keep her warm. “Someone, do something!”
A harsh whisper escaped a woman’s lips. “It’s King Philip’s daughter.”
“Are you sure?” a man standing beside the woman asked.
“Of course I’m sure! I staff the kitchen and feed the royal family.” She pushed through the crowd toward the body and brushed the red locks from the young girl’s face.
Larkin stood beside Leila, protective of her. “No, her name is Leila.” He didn’t know her surname. She hadn’t given it, but it wasn’t possible for this girl to be a princess.
“The princess has a birthmark on her right arm, in the shape of a heart,” the woman said. Gently she removed his coat and lifted the sleeve, revealing the inside of her arm. It was Ophelia Dacre. “Detain him!” the woman demanded, pointing at Larkin.
“What?” His eyes widened and heart palpitated. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You were the last one outside with the princess.”
Footsteps clattered along stone. The guard was returning. The young girl gave him a weak smile. Her eyes were kind, her heart perhaps in the right place. “You should go.”
“I'll try and come back for you.” She rushed toward the stairs and hid against the wall in the privacy of darkness.
“Don't.” Larkin stood as the guard walked by the girl and handed him a mug of water through the cell bars.
“Don't what?” the guard asked.
“Just talking to myself.”
She disappeared up the stairs and away from the prison chambers. He silently prayed she wouldn’t return. The prison cells were no place for a young girl.
Unburying Your Mistakes
Chapter 3
“I thought you didn't know how to ride a horse?” Violetta accused Leila when she returned.
Emblyn quietly watched from the front of the cottage.
Leila tied the horse up around back. She walked toward the berry bushes, picking breakfast. She was starving. “I'm a quick study.”
“You're a liar. And I wouldn't eat those. They're poisonous,” Violetta snapped.
Emblyn walked onto the lawn, interrupting them. “No, they're not. We cut down the poisonous berries decades ago.”
“You ruin everything,” Violetta snarled at Emblyn.
“The poor girl is hungry. Besides, maybe she has a valid reason for borrowing the horse this morning? Did you get your first reap?”
Leila rolled her eyes. She wasn't about to lie to them, but stretching the truth seemed easier. “I had some errands to run.”
Emblyn frowned. “That's vague. Leila, where were you?”
“I need help. I went to see Larkin.” Leila sighed and popped a berry into her mouth. It was the first food she'd eaten as a reaper. It tasted just like it did before she died. At least some things remained the same.
“Larkin?” Violetta asked.
“My boyfriend. The boy I snuck out to visit late at night.”
“Oh.” Emblyn smiled. “That boy. He's cute.”
“He's also in trouble,” Leila said. “Turns out my father arrested him. I tried to convince him to come with me, but that didn't go over too well.”
“Did you tell him you were a grim reaper?” Violetta asked. “Please tell me you didn't.”
Leila's eyes widened. “Of course not! I lied and told him I was a friend of Ophelia's. I'm not an idiot. He'd think I was crazy.”
“That's debatable,” Violetta said.
“Both of you! A lie is what got you into this mess in the first place.” Emblyn shook her head. “From now on, you follow all the rules. We'll just hope that Edon hasn't gotten wind of what you did today.”
“We can't leave him there, Emblyn,” Leila pleaded. “He needs our help.”
Violetta raised an eyebrow. “Don't you think you've helped enough?” She moved closer to Leila. “Now let me see your scroll. I'm not going to be responsible for two messes today.”
“About that.” Leila removed the scroll from beneath her stocking. It had left a slight red burn against her skin. She grimaced as she pulled the scroll open, seeing the assignment she missed.
“You skipped a reap?” Violetta was livid. “You can't miss an appointment, Leila! Do you have any idea what you've done?”
Emblyn walked toward Violetta, glancing over her shoulder at the scroll. “This isn't good.”
“What's the worst that could happen?”
“You don't get it. You don't get to decide who lives a
nd who dies. As reapers, our only job is to help the soul leave the body and move on. You left a soul in the body. Do you have any idea of the mess you made?” Violetta asked.
“No.” Leila was honest. She didn't see any harm in the choice she'd made. She knew there'd be consequences, because they kept telling her that. She assumed when the scroll had burned her skin that had been her punishment. Apparently there was more.
Emblyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “We have to take this to Edon.”
Violetta's eyes widened. “Isn't there another way? It's her first offense. If Edon knows, he'll be forced to report it, and you know what that can mean.”
“What can it mean?” Leila asked. Maybe she'd get forced back into her body and sent back as Ophelia Dacre. Yeah, that was probably a long shot, considering they were finishing the funeral right about now.
“We pick up the boys and visit Edon.” Violetta walked around back, saddling up.
“Why the boys?” Leila asked.
“Wynter's made the same mistake, and he's still a reaper. Maybe they won't execute you for your crime.”
“Execute me?” Leila choked. “Please, tell me you're joking.”
“Do I look like I'm laughing?” Violetta asked.
Leila didn't say another word. Emblyn climbed atop her horse. With only two horses at the cottage, Leila had to share a ride with Violetta. She kept her mouth shut, careful not to eat flies or her words, as they rode to Jasper and Wynter's cottage. “Stay here.” Violetta climbed down off the horse and walked to the front door, giving a swift knock. “I know you're home. Your horses are still outside.”
Wynter opened the front door. “New assignment?” he asked.
“Worse.” Violetta turned and headed back for the horse. “We need to ride to Edon's. Leila missed her appointment. You have to come with us. You're the only one who's ever gotten away with intentionally not showing up.”
“It was one time,” Wynter said. “I was young, naive.”
Jasper poked his head out the front door.
“I'd say the same about this one.” Violetta pointed at Leila. “She's going to need our support. Ride with her. I'm taking your horse.”
“Why don't we clean up the mess ourselves?” Wynter asked.
Jasper slipped on his boots and walked outside. “I'm not keen on lying to Edon.”
“It's only a lie if he asks. We won't lie then. Think of it as protecting him,” Wynter said.
Wynter walked toward Leila and climbed onto the horse. “Looks like we're riding partners. Where to?”
Leila shook her head. “I don't know. The appointment was for yesterday afternoon.”
“Let me see your scroll,” Wynter said.
Leila removed the scroll from her thigh. When she held it, the stinging sensation dissipated. However, it did nothing to alleviate the burn on her leg. “Here you go.”
Wynter unraveled the scroll, reading it over quietly. “I recognize the last name.”
“You know who he is?” Leila asked.
“Follow me!” Wynter told the group as he rode hard. “No, I know the family name. You walk through enough cemeteries and reap enough souls, you'll learn things.”
“How morbid.” Leila leaned into Wynter, careful not to fall. They rode along the trail for hours. Her cheek rested against his back as she gripped Wynter tight against her. “Are we there yet?” Riding a horse wasn't comfortable, and this was her second long journey today.
“Almost.” He slowed as they approached a graveyard.
There was a muffled cry. From the outermost edge of the graveyard, Leila could hear it. “What's that?” she asked, feeling her chest tighten.
“Probably your reap calling for help.” Wynter climbed down off the horse and offered Leila a hand. He secured the horse to the fence and walked into the graveyard. “You coming?”
Leila hesitated. “I guess I have to.” She followed Wynter through the graveyard. “Where's everyone else?” Violetta came up the path with her horse, but the others lagged behind.
“Jasper is bringing you a shovel. He'll probably be riding alongside Emblyn.”
“A what?” She knew what a shovel was. What she didn't understand is why she'd need one.
“You're going to have to dig up the body.”
“No way!” Leila shouted. “Absolutely not.” There were some things she was not willing to do; desecrating a grave was one of those things. Wynter stopped walking, and Leila bumped into him. “We there?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I don't understand why you became one of us if you have no interest in helping.”
“It's not that I don't want to help.” She loved looking after her sister, making sure she was tended to properly. She was good with people and helping came naturally to her. It was the other aspect of being a reaper that she didn’t agree with. “I don't want to kill people.”
Wynter stared at her. “Do you think we have the power to kill, Leila, because we don't. Just like we can't stop people from dying. All we can do is be there to help the person move on.”
“So, I'm just supposed to be all right with watching people die every day?” It was a lot to expect. She was barely seventeen. She had her whole life ahead of her and in an instant it was stolen. This was a second chance at life, but it wasn't what she expected. She wasn't really sure what she had expected when she agreed to Edon's terms. This however, wasn't it.
“It gets easier. Listen, I know it's not fun. It's part of the job; we all do things we hate. There are good moments too. You'll see. Just give it time.” Wynter took her arm and led her farther into the graveyard.
“This place is creepy.” She hated being around dead bodies, and Wynter wanted her to dig one up. Just great!
“It doesn't get any less creepy.” Wynter stopped walking and tapped on the ground. Both of them could hear a muffled cry for help.
“How did he get buried if he's still alive?” Leila's heart raced in her chest. Maybe she could still save him.
“He's dead, Leila.” Wynter rested a hand on her shoulder. Jasper came down the path carrying a shovel and handed it to her. “You're going to have to dig him up. Or else he'll be trapped for all of eternity in that grave,” Wynter said.
Leila felt sick to her stomach. She took the shovel from Jasper. “That's awful.” She dug one scoop of dirt away, and then a second. No one offered to help. This was her mess. She was responsible for cleaning it up. Violetta and Emblyn watched from the edge of the graveyard, standing beside the horses. Jasper wandered through the graveyard, his fingers running over old headstones.
Her arms ached and sweat dripped down her neck. She didn't let up. She kept digging into the earth, and with every ounce of dirt tossed aside, the cries for help grew louder. Eventually, the shovel tapped the top of the wooden casket. Leila locked eyes with Wynter. She was scared sick.
“You've got this,” Wynter assured her. “Just open the box and touch him.”
“You want me to touch a dead guy?” The thought disgusted her.
“He's not going to have worms crawling out of his ears. He's only been in the ground a few hours. I want you to be the best damned grim reaper you can be. To do that, you need to take the first step and stop being so afraid.”
“I'm not afraid.” Afraid didn't come close to how she felt. Leila was terrified. Her hands were shaking, and her heart was palpitating. It would have been nice if grim reapers didn't have a heart or lungs, or any of the human traits she'd come to expect. At least then she wouldn't feel so awful.
She pushed the last bit of dirt aside and bent down. Wynter helped her remove the lid from the casket. “I'm sorry.” She could still hear him screaming, even though his lips weren't moving. She grazed her hand along the man's arm, and his soul visibly popped out of his body.
“Oh my God!” he screamed. The muffled cries she'd heard while he'd been buried were nothing compared to his hysteria right now. “I was buried alive! You have to help me!”
“I just did.” She
didn't know how to calm him down or how else to help him.
“My family buried me alive,” Asher said again.
Wynter leaned in and said, “You weren't technically buried alive.”
“I wasn't?” Asher asked, shocked.
“No,” Wynter said. “You died yesterday in a freak accident. Do you remember what happened?”
“I was gathering water from the stream.” Asher glanced at Leila. “Then I heard hooves, a lot of them. I died?”
Wynter glanced down at the body in the grave. “Yeah, you're definitely dead.” He shut the lid on the casket.
“I was trampled to death, by horses. I'm really dead?”
“On to bigger and better things.” Wynter gestured toward the glimmer at the tree line. It sparkled and rippled with waves of emerald.
Asher walked forward, past Violetta and Emblyn. Jasper watched in fascination. It was the one place reapers couldn't go.
Leila stood with Wynter at her side and glanced down at the grave. “Please tell me I don't have to put all that dirt back myself.”
Wynter grinned and reached for the shovel, handing it to Leila. “Bet you won't do it again.” He was right about that. She wasn't a glutton for pain.
The Disease
Chapter 4
“One day, we'll all be able to look back and laugh about tonight.” Wynter nudged Leila as she sat beside him at the tavern. Thankfully, they were nowhere near the place where Ophelia had died. A tavern had been the last place Leila wanted to step foot in, but they all had insisted on celebrating. Edon had no idea what they'd been up to. Leila owed them each a favor, but there could be worse situations to be in.
Jasper sat beside Violetta, an arm draped across her shoulders, while Emblyn squeezed in beside them in the booth. It was super cozy.
“I'm still not laughing,” Leila said.
“Give it time. How's the burn?” Wynter glanced down at her covered thigh.
