Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  Frost reached his limit. In a burst of energy and smoke, he disappeared into the cuff, its blue glow lighting Elsie’s wrist. As she watched the spirit converse with the tiny brown terror- she couldn’t blame him. She’d traveled the continent and seen some crazy demons over the years, but this was a little much. Even for her.

  “It’s a brownie, isn’t it?” she questioned. Wren nodded her head, acknowledging her without breaking off whatever she was saying to the creepy little beast. After a few more minutes, she set it down and it glared up at Elsie, its eyes glinting with a sheen of yellow.

  “They’re sometimes called house elves, though the actual elves took full offense at the term,” Wren said lightly. “They’re spirits too, or at least, that’s how they started out. Eventually, they took corporeal form. Despite their looks, it doesn’t take a huge amount of force to subdue them.”

  Elsie frowned, and her scythe took on a glow, shrinking down and reattaching itself to her bracelet. Wren had basically just called her out for having an overreaction. Elsie resisted the urge to petulantly cross her arms in front of her, not wanting to come across as childish. From the way Wren smiled at her anyway, it seemed the spirit knew the reaper was a bit put out.

  “What did it say?” she asked, noting the obvious and scathing look the little creature was shooting in her direction.

  “He was here to warn me not to go this direction. It seems there’s a troublesome creature ahead, though he does not have a name for what it is. Apparently, it’s killed many over the past week,” Wren answered.

  “Why didn’t it just come out and say as much instead of stalking us for so long?” Elsie grumbled. She refused to feel foolish for the way she’d reacted. Her quick reflexes had saved herself and many others over the years. She couldn’t help it if the little monster had tried to sneak up on her and her body had reacted accordingly. If he wanted to act like a threat, he’d find himself treated as one.

  “He followed us to make sure it was safe to approach. Neither you nor the wolf are familiar to the people of this forest, so he was attempting to take precautions. He didn’t realize he was putting himself in further danger by doing so.” The corners of Wren’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “If I had a guess, he won’t be making the same mistake again in the future.”

  “It’s lucky for him you were here to save him,” Elsie lilted, watching the spirit as she continued to listen to the brownie hissing out words.

  “He says reapers do not usually come here, and when they do, they’re always here for the same reason. He warns that you should leave the mages be. They can be powerful enemies,” Wren translated, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

  “So can I,” Elsie said coldly. The way Wren’s eyes rested on her made her feel squeamish. “How much further until we reach his mystery creature?”

  “About five miles,” Wren told her. “He suggests we go around. Or, if we must go straight through, to wait until daylight when it is dormant.”

  “How much territory is it holding?” Elsie questioned, her mind already spinning, putting pieces together and trying to work out what kind of beastie the world had in store for them. Wren asked the brownie in its strange, angry-sounding language, and her eyes widened when the creature spat out its response.

  “Its territory is ten miles wide and twelve miles deep,” Wren reported.

  “So it wants to be a little Lord in such a big forest,” Elsie muttered. “Aren’t you the forest spirit here? Can’t you just evict him? Or her.”

  “Not a forest spirit.” She shook her head, reminding Elsie what she’d called herself. The Spirit of the Wild.

  “It’s a wild creature though, right?” the reaper persisted.

  “That does not give me dominion over it. If I were to attempt to throw it out, I could upset the balance of nature. Predators have just as much a place in this world as prey,” she explained. It was enough to make Elsie wonder just what the spirit thought about reapers. She assumed she’d be classified as a predator of creatures both above and below her power level. A fair assessment.

  Ethereal magic couldn’t be countered by any magic on Earth, except maybe those powered by the sun itself, but those were so rare she’d yet to meet any. She gazed at the brownie. In her hunter days, she’d have dispatched the little monster without a single regret. She wouldn’t have stopped to wonder if it were there for any other reason but to attack, and that was reason enough to kill it.

  As a reaper, she had to consider her actions more clearly. She could kill the creature as she’d intended, or she could send it anywhere she wanted, but she had to strike a balance as well. If she sent this creature to a hell dimension it didn’t deserve, it could have dire consequences. Such an action had the potential to start a ripple effect on a karmic level.

  She sighed and relaxed out of a defensive position. The creepy brownie creature lived to see another day. Wren spoke to it again, in that same gratingly harsh language, and the brownie gave her a wide, horrible smile, creasing its face in deep wrinkles and folds. It swept down into a deep bow then turned and disappeared into the night.

  “Have you made a decision?” Wren asked, and Elsie nodded.

  “I don’t have time for a detour. We’ll go through.” Frost’s ears perked up and he gave a little ‘woof’ of approval.

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” the spirit sighed. Elsie took the lead, and they continued their hike.

  “Are you one of the people of this forest?” she asked a while later.

  “I am not,” Wren answered. “I travel freely as I must.”

  Elsie absorbed that bit of information. “What calls you to travel?”

  “It’s my responsibility,” she answered cryptically. “I cannot turn my back on my people when I am needed.”

  The stag was still walking placidly at her side. “Are all of your people animals?” Elsie asked, making a guess.

  “No,” Wren answered, a hint of amusement in her voice.

  “Do you have a place you consider home?” she continued. Wren was quiet for a long while. Long enough that Elsie thought she wasn’t going to answer.

  “I have not had a place to specifically call home for a very long time. Transience has always been a part of who I am, no matter what form I take at the time. The wilds are my home, and I am their keeper.” Wren spoke softly when she replied. There was something sad about the way she said it, a slight sense of longing she hadn’t meant to convey.

  “That sounds so lonely,” Elsie remarked. “To never have a place to return to when you need to be with family and friends. To never have the comfort of home.”

  “How can one be lonely if they are never alone?” Wren asked, reaching out to pet the deer beside her. “I have many friends throughout the world, and none of them would turn me away if I were to need respite or a place to stay.”

  “My mother is similar,” she said distractedly, ducking under some low branches covered in lichen. “Her home was what used to be the country of Mexico, but after humanity’s collapse, she was freed to go wherever she wanted. I think she still spends time there, but she’s taken me to hundreds of worlds, and she’s always as comfortable as if we were among family.”

  “Do you have a place to call home?” Wren asked curiously.

  “I did, once. I lived with the hunters for fourteen years. In the same room, on the same compound, surrounded by the same people. They were my family, my co-workers and my friends. They raised me. When I left them, I spent six years on Molta with my mother, and the past three years were in a tiny human village up north,” Elsie responded. “I’m without a place to call home right now.”

  “You are a creature that likes to stay still,” Wren summed up. “How is that possible? Reapers are renowned for their desire to explore and travel.”

  “My sisters were raised that way; it’s in their blood. I was pretty much grounded for most of my formative years,” Elsie said bitterly. “I didn’t get to spend time with my mother, seeing all the places that they did,
becoming comfortable with never setting down roots.”

  “Interesting.” Wren watched her as they walked, her bare feet silent on the forest floor. “When you have finished this quest to have the curse removed, will you go back to your hermitish ways?”

  “I think hermit is a bit extreme. I had friends, a job, a lover, and a roof over my head. I did leave the house,” Elsie scoffed. “I do want those comforts in my life. It’s nice, having someone to come home to. What about you? Do spirits of the wild have someone more important to them than others?”

  “I have taken lovers, yes,” Wren answered, shooting Elsie a lewd grin. “They were fun for a time, and I’ve even loved a few of them. None of them have ever quite been… compatible with me, however.”

  “How will you know when someone is?” Elsie questioned, thinking of Saint. He was perfect for her in every way, and she’d given him up. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized this was the closest she’d been to him since returning from Molta. She touched her chest, where the aching reminder of what she’d lost remained.

  “I think it’s one of those things a person just knows,” Wren answered, closing her expression off, her face going blank. She clearly didn’t want to continue the conversation, and Elsie respected that, dropping it completely.

  There were things she didn’t want to talk about either. Even thinking about Saint was painful. Not a single day had passed in which she didn’t regret giving him up but she’d had to. Even before their mating bond had formed, she’d been too fond of him. She’d fallen in love with her demon long before realizing it, and she’d spent her time protecting him from everyone around them.

  It hadn’t gone unnoticed. They’d both felt it, the extra scrutiny. An accusation of being a demon lover or a sympathizer would have been disastrous. When the bond had formed, she’d sent him away for his own safety. They’d have killed him. And if they didn’t make her watch, it would only be because they were forcing her to do it herself. Her superiors would have destroyed them both.

  Her lips formed his name, but the sound was trapped in her throat. She wondered for the millionth time if he could ever forgive her. Elsie could feel him more clearly now than she had in years. For the first time, he was within her reach. She could go to him if the guilt driving her into depression would allow it.

  Don’t be selfish, reaper, she scolded herself mentally. He deserves better than for me to show up at his door like this.

  That decided it for her. She couldn’t go to him now with all the problems she had hanging over her. She couldn’t make him feel like she was using him to run away from the curse and the wolf. How would she explain Frost’s presence after driving him away?

  Their trail took them away from the shoreline and directly into the territory of whatever creature lay before them. Had she not been worried about the curse, she’d have blazed through regardless of what was in there, but for once, Elsie was using caution. The damned curse had knocked her confidence down a peg or two.

  They were moving quietly, avoiding drawing attention to themselves. Elsie thought it best to avoid confrontation if possible. However, this thing was blocking the most direct route to where she wanted to go, and if the creature inside wanted to start trouble, she’d act. Hell, at this point, she’d use Frost’s volatility to her advantage and cut him loose.

  Three miles into the creature’s territory, they still hadn’t seen anything, but nobody was relaxed. According to the brownie, it was most active at night, so it could be anywhere. Frost was still in the cuff, and Frida had settled herself on the rump of the deer so she could sleep while everyone else walked.

  “I’m starting to wonder if this creature exists,” Elsie breathed, and Wren shot her a dirty look.

  “Don’t invite trouble,” she said softly.

  “I don’t see anything in the magical remnants around here to indicate that something powerful lives here. If there was a creature strong enough to be killing anything invading its territory, there should be some sign of its presence,” Elsie continued.

  Wren looked into the dark, her glow a little less bright. “There are things that can hide their magic as easily as I can change my shape.”

  A vibration shook the ground under their feet, and Elsie grabbed Wren’s arm, pulling her to a stop. She put a finger to her lips and crouched down, expanding her senses to their fullest. Wren shot her a smirk.

  “Are you afraid of a little earthquake?” she teased, her voice barely a whisper. Elsie kept her eyes off the spirit. She’d already caught a glance out of the corner of her eye, and all that white hair spilling all over the ground was enough to make her want to ball it all up in her hands so it wouldn’t get dirty. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  Elsie nodded her head toward the hill a short distance from them. It didn’t look like anything special, bearing the same rocks and trees that surrounded it, but on closer inspection, the hill was oscillating. “Do you not worry about hills that breathe?” she asked.

  Wren’s eyes narrowed, and the bioluminescent glow that gave her skin that otherworldly look went dark. Just in time, too. A small section of the hill fractured off as the creature lifted its head and opened one yellow eye. Elsie’s entire body went cold, then flashed into feeling way too hot. Whatever that thing was, it made Frost look small by comparison.

  It lifted, and Elsie saw that its body had the vague outline of a poorly pieced together iguana, the legs thick and low, with spikes along its back. She didn’t dare breathe too loudly, but Wren tilted her head and watched the creature without fear. Her face took on a look of near disbelief.

  “Reaper, we must not engage him,” she whispered. “I don’t understand why he’s here. These aren’t his lands.”

  “Who is he?” Elsie asked, not taking her eyes off the creature. Its walk was lumbering and slow, but it somehow managed not to knock over any trees with its long tail, trailing along on the ground behind it.

  “He is the River Devil of Kamiah,” Wren said. She was slowly making her way forward, tugging Elsie along so she’d follow. “We need to leave his territory as soon as we can. There is no coyote here to save us.”

  “I don’t understand,” Elsie hissed, obediently following the spirit while watching the creature meander by.

  “There’s a creation story about him; he’s from a time before humanity. He swallowed the progenitors of several shifter races: Bear, Fox, Muskrat and many others. Coyote used his illusion and trickster magics to fool the Devil into swallowing him, too. He saved his people and used pieces of the beast’s body to create the first nations,” Wren explained.

  “What the story doesn’t say is that the River Devil’s spirit was not destroyed, and he rebuilt his body from the pieces of other demons over hundreds of years. He is not the same creature he used to be, but he still belongs to the river, which is why it’s so strange that he’s here. If the River Devil were to swallow us, we would die a slow and excruciating death in his belly over the next week.” Wren looked back and took Elsie’s hand, pulling her faster. “We cannot stop moving.”

  The deer pranced in silent steps; it was clear he wanted to run and leave them behind, but his adoration of Wren stopped him. Elsie wanted a closer look at the creature who was at the base of a creation story, but the firmness of Wren’s grip persuaded her otherwise. There was little question why the brownie hadn’t been able to tell them what was lording over these lands. It was unlikely to have ever seen something like this before.

  They ran as quickly as they could, but it seemed to Elsie that no matter how fast they moved, the creature was always right over their shoulder, easily in view without ever having moved. It still appeared to be slowly walking forward, away from them. They were six miles into his territory, only four to go, when the deer tripped, and Frida went flying into the bushes.

  She let out a loud wail, the kind only a frightened and pissed off cat can. The entire group froze, and Elsie slowly looked over her shoulder. The Devil had stopped walking, and his he
ad moved in their direction, inch by painful inch, until those two cold yellow eyes were trained on them.

  “Fuck,” Elsie cursed. There was no need to be silent now. She ran forward and scooped Frida up off the ground, sprinting into the woods with Wren and the deer hot on her tail.

  The Earth shook as the massive creature turned their way, and it suddenly had speed, as though its ungainly movements from before had all been a bluff. Elsie grabbed the figure of her mother from under her clothes and kissed it three times.

  “Mi madre protégeme de mis enemigos,” she muttered under her breath as they ran. She released her scythe, twisting the shaft and pouring magic into it until it became the cleaving bat she loved so much. The Devil’s legs were larger than trees, so she couldn’t imagine she’d get much use out of a sword this time around.

  “Reaper, you are not going to fight him!” Wren hissed angrily.

  “I’m not planning on it, but it’s better to be ready in case he catches us,” Elsie said, tossing another look back over her shoulder. It was closer. She could see the scales covering its face now, patches of different texture and color, and one of its eyes was bulbous like a chameleon, while the other looked soft and sweet, like some kind of forest creature. The thing was a patched together monstrosity.

  Elsie ran on adrenaline alone, pushing her body beyond the limits of what was left of her strength. She’d give anything just then for the curse to lift long enough for them to get away. The fucking thing was holding her back.

  “Not much farther!” Wren called back. They were making good time, only a mile left, but the creature was gaining on them every second. And they had no way of knowing if it would continue to chase them beyond the territory it had claimed as its own. If it was hungry enough, it could continue to chase them down.

  “Faster!” Elsie called as a tree crashed down next to her. It was for the others that she said it. Sapped of her strength by lack of sleep and the constant attacks on her body, she was at the end of her abilities. She saw Wren’s stride lengthen further, the deer’s eyes rolling in fear as it struggled to keep up.