Reaper (Dragon Prophecies Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  “They do, actually, but I’m not one of them. These three are my traveling companions.” It wasn’t a lie, and it was easier to lump all three into a single category. She wasn’t about to explain the dynamics of each of her relationships, especially since she wasn’t even sure there was a term for what Frost was to her.

  “Uh, right,” the mage said, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want from Riven that couldn’t have been said in a letter? Didn’t she tell you we don’t accept visitors here?”

  “Actually, she didn’t. But to be fair, I never expected to have a reason to come all the way here, so it didn’t come up. It’s imperative that I speak with her directly, as soon as possible. I’m Elsie, by the way,” she offered.

  “Elsie…” the mage repeated, awareness lighting her eyes. “You’re the reaper.”

  “That’s me,” she agreed, though it bothered her a bit to be identified that way. She hadn’t been a reaper the last time she’d seen the mage. “Riven talked about the time she spent with us?”

  “She didn’t say much, something about the need to keep a code of secrecy, but she mentioned you a few times. I’m Clover,” the mage said. “Is that wolf going to eat me if I come down there?”

  “He should be fine; he recently ate,” she joked, then muttered to the wolf, “Frost, don’t eat the mage. We need them to be on our side.” Her words had no immediate effect on his behavior. Wren didn’t look particularly happy, either. She reached out and touched the giant wolf’s shoulder. “Frost.”

  One of his ears flicked back in her direction. He wasn’t standing down, but at least he was listening. “Listen, wolf, this can’t turn out like the sky people,” she reminded him. “I need Riven, which means you need Riven, and Clover may be able to help us find her.”

  “I can definitely help you find her,” Clover said, easily overhearing her words, though she’d lowered her voice. “So long as your companions can play nice. I never would have thought I’d be intimidated by a deer before.”

  Elsie gave Wren a smirk. “This particular deer is one of a kind.”

  “I can see that.” Clover jumped down, landing smoothly at the bottom of the tree she’d been perched in. Elsie assumed magic had to have been involved with that drop since mages weren’t physically any stronger than witches.

  “We aren’t far from our village. Actually, I’m surprised you got this close without somebody spotting you sooner. Usually we’re more vigilant than this. I wouldn’t have been as harsh if I hadn’t found you so near to our homes. I apologize for that, reaper.” Clover dipped her head slightly in respect. She was just lucky she’d run into Elsie and not one of her older sisters. Catch one of them in a foul mood and they’d fillet a pesky mage on the spot.

  “Think nothing of it,” Elsie said, trying to make herself sound more energetic than she felt. She hoped the curse wouldn’t choose now to attack her body. She was well overdue for another, but this would be the worst possible timing. If Clover thought her vulnerable, she could very easily take advantage of the situation. Mages had a method of extracting magic from other creatures, and it was unlikely they would come across a specimen with ethereal magic very often.

  “Would you mind leading the way? I don’t think my wolf will allow you to walk behind us. He gets pretty jumpy when it comes to my well being,” she hinted, not liking the way Clover was staring at her.

  The mage let out a hearty laugh. “Sure, I don’t mind. I’m actually kind of happy I’m the one who found you. I’ll get to see the look on Riven’s face when she realizes a reaper has come looking for her.” She rested her spear against her shoulder, then edged her way around Frost, giving the wolf a wide berth while keeping an eye on him.

  Elsie grasped a clump of his thick fur in her fist, giving it a gentle tug. He looked down at her, his eyes softer than she’d ever seen them, and rumbled out a quiet growl that was almost a groan. She took it as reassurance that he would behave himself, but when she stepped away, the image of herself holding onto him slammed into her mind. Elsie gritted her teeth to keep from gasping at the mental weight of his presence.

  “I hate when you do that,” she muttered at him, but she did as he’d told her to do. Grabbing onto him once more, she let the wolf help to support her. Wren stayed close to her opposite side, and Frida took the rear, boxing her in between them.

  “Wow, they’re really protective of you,” Clover commented, though Elsie saw her look at the chain around her wrist critically. The mage must have thought she was forcing his loyalty, when really, it was the threat of the curse keeping his attitude in check.

  “They’re important to me,” Elsie replied, not giving any further explanation.

  “Have they been with you for long?” Clover asked, making polite conversation as she led the way.

  “The cat has been with me the longest, about three years now,” Elsie answered.

  “My, it’s nice to see that such close kinship can be forged in such a short amount of time. One can only assume you’ve been through some adventures together to become that way,” Clover said. Elsie chewed on the inside of her lip, but she didn’t let her emotions broadcast to the creatures surrounding her.

  Clover was giving off highly suspicious vibes, enough that her nerves were tingling in a fit of instinctual warning. If she hadn’t needed the mage to get to Riven, she’d get the fuck out of there. She’d just have to keep her eyes open and aware of everything that was going on around her, though she admitted to herself that time was winding down dangerously. It would be awfully difficult to stay alert while she was writhing on the ground in pain.

  “Our kinship is a work in progress,” Elsie replied with a smile. She didn’t want to give too much away. “What about you? I notice you’re all alone out here. Don’t you have traveling companions?”

  “We’re so close to the village, this could hardly be called traveling.” Clover shrugged off the obvious implications the reaper had thrown her way. “I was on my way out to collect some herbs.”

  Elsie’s skin prickled as she registered the lie. Tension came from Wren—the spirit had caught it, too. Clover had come from behind them, the opposite direction she was taking them now, and there were no herbs on her. The mage was discreetly gathering her magic around her like a protective blanket of invisible fire that could flare up at a moment’s notice.

  “It’s lucky we ran into each other, then,” Elsie said. “It would have taken us far longer to find your village on our own. Your guidance is helpful.”

  Clover’s eyes darted toward hers in disappointment. Elsie hadn’t slipped up, but it rubbed her the wrong way, admitting to being helped. Her fae half didn’t like how close that admission had come to gratefulness. She didn’t want to end up owing some randomly met deceitful mage a favor. The fae were far more comfortable and content with being owed instead.

  “I think you would have found it sooner than you’d expect,” Clover said. A few minutes later, they crested a small hill and Elsie stifled a groan.

  A short distance away a larger hill loomed, and at the top were simple structures surrounded by a wooden fence. Because of course they’d built their village on a hilltop like some ancient human king preparing in case of war.

  “It looks well fortified,” she praised, receiving a nod in response.

  “The elders wanted to make the village visible enough to declare this our territory for miles around.”

  “I think they hit the mark on that one,” Elsie said. Her mouth set in a grim line as she continued following the mage, who didn’t make any remarks about how slow she was despite casting several confused looks her way. Reapers had reputations to uphold, and Elsie wasn’t living up to it.

  Less than halfway there, Wren ran a few steps ahead then lay down in the middle of the trail. Elsie frowned down at her in confusion, and Clover looked back in obvious annoyance.

  “Are you okay?” Elsie crouched, touching the spirit’s shoulder in concern. Wren responded by licking her cheek, those big blue eyes
practically laughing at her surprise.

  “Is something wrong with your pet?” she asked. Elsie stopped herself from retorting back at her. If the mage couldn’t tell that Wren was more than an animal, she certainly wasn’t going to be the cause of that disillusionment. Before she could answer, Frost lay next to the deer, his head up and alert while throwing a haughty look toward the mage.

  “I guess they need a break,” Elsie said. “We’ve been traveling a lot, and everyone’s tired out.”

  “Okay…” Clover stared her down, doubtlessly disbelieving every word. They had only put a few miles behind them, but the animals weren’t the ones panting and sweating on their way up the hill.

  “If we’re too much trouble or you’re in a hurry, you don’t have to feel obligated to get us there,” Elsie offered. “We can find our way from here pretty easily, I think, since we can see it from here. It doesn’t look like a big village. I’m sure anyone would be able to point the way to Riven.”

  Clover’s annoyed look was wiped away immediately as she plastered a smile on her face. “It’s not a problem at all,” the mage lied again. Elsie was the only Reaper among her sisters with fae blood, so the mage probably didn’t know she could sense a lie without even trying. “It would be easiest to enter the village if one of us is with you. If you went in alone, you’d be challenged all over again, and the people there might not be as willing to listen as I was. Nobody just walks in unannounced; it’ll throw them off guard.”

  At least that last part was the truth. Frost leaned closer, and Elsie stroked the fur on his neck absently before she realized what she was doing and yanked her hand away. He sneezed at her in amusement, and she noticed that he and Wren had protectively boxed her in yet again. Frida jumped up and wound herself around Elsie’s shoulders, purring softly in her ears.

  “Are there other creatures traveling with you?” Clover asked, looking into the trees behind them to see if there were more following behind.

  “Just these three,” Elsie said. She shook her head with amusement, thinking how she must look, surrounded by so many animals. It was normal for a reaper to have a hellhound with her since they just naturally gravitated toward each other after years of sharing the same realms. However, the hellhounds were usually a reaper’s only traveling companion.

  “Huh,” Clover replied.

  Once the unnatural flush of overexertion on Elsie’s cheeks cleared away, Wren got to her feet, followed by the wolf. Frost rumbled and growled at her until she nodded in acknowledgment. She’d be more careful not to exhaust her energy too quickly. His concern for her after learning of the shade and being scolded by Wren was so amusing she snickered at him without divulging why.

  Clover turned and led the way without another word. Apparently, the fire mage was growing tired of them. Elsie was pretty sure dealing with someone as frail as she was hadn’t been on the mage’s to-do list for the day.

  Drawing closer to the village, the sound of hammering filled the air, the scent of baking bread drifting on the wind soon after. Elsie threw Frost a serious look. He was not allowed to ransack this village and steal people’s food. No matter how delicious it smelled after spending over a week in the wilderness, eating from a dwindling food supply.

  The roads between houses consisted of a rusty, reddish-colored hard-packed dirt. Each house was a yurt, round structures held up by wooden poles, but that’s where their similarities ended. They came in all colors with a variety of decorative additions.

  Elsie’s favorite was one that the owner had taken the time to carve each post into representations of forest-dwelling animals. A fox chased a hare on one, a snarling badger graced another, while a third post showcased a wiry-haired boar. Herbs were planted all over, and medicinal plants for teas and tinctures filled the space behind the house.

  Another home was dark and foreboding, with the skull of what looked to be an ox cast carelessly to the side of the doorway. The energy of the place was just all wrong. Wren stomped her feet angrily when she saw it, but she stayed at Elsie’s side, unwilling to be left behind.

  Across from that house, a woman sat in the doorway of her home, watching a happily occupied young child play with a doll. The scent of bread came from the tandoori oven erected in the front yard. The woman stared unblinking at Elsie, and the creatures accompanying her, as she followed Clover deeper into the heart of the village.

  “It’s so quiet here,” Elsie commented.

  “We lead simple lives here, and it’s the middle of the day. Most people are either out training or working,” Clover said. “We’re too small of a village to need a market. We make most of what we need, and if we can’t, things can be crafted and traded with the larger village about fifty miles from here. We have people who specialize in pottery and baking, and we even have a blacksmith.”

  The way she listed them all off with a lilted, arrogant tone made it seem as though she’d felt the need to defend her village’s way of life, but Elsie thought it was perfect. Clover should be proud of her home.

  “It’s beautiful here. Your homes are so unique. I stayed in a human village for a few years,” she said to the mage. “The spark was stolen from their lives, and they were unable to create any but the most simple of things. Their imaginations were just… gone. Everything looked the same. They didn’t even have music.”

  Clover paused and looked back at her, something like pity reflected in her eyes. “That sounds terrible.”

  “It was sad, honestly. They live such boring lives, but for them, it’s perfectly normal. The price they pay for a false sense of security through pretending everything is alright with the world. It would be amazing to see them able to live somewhere like this, instead,” Elsie sighed. “Humans have their flaws, but they were marvelously clever when they were allowed to be.”

  Clover looked at her as though she was trying to figure out if Elsie was mocking her, but there was nothing deeper to it. The reaper legitimately liked the village.

  Wren gently brushed a shoulder against her hip, and Elsie smiled, catching the meaning behind it. She probably wouldn’t mind traveling with the spirit if it meant finding places like this. It had a deeply peaceful feeling to it.

  Ahead of them, several paths came to what looked like a town square of sorts. There was an open space with a small stage and a large fire ring that looked well used. At the center was a series of yurts that had been fashioned together to create one much larger structure. It towered over the others in the village, and each panel was painted with a different landscape. It was made to look warm and welcoming.

  “This is where you will meet with Riven if she agrees to see you. We do not show strangers to another’s home without permission,” Clover explained. Elsie nodded. That was fair enough, and a smart practice.

  She followed the mage inside, but when Frost tried to follow her in, Clover stopped them with a raised hand and a scowl. “You are not from here, so I’ll forgive your ignorance, but it is extremely disrespectful to bring animals into our community space. Especially something as uncivilized as a demon wolf. Your beasts cannot come in with you.”

  Frost let out the most threatening growl Elsie had heard from him yet, letting her know that all this time he’d been messing with her. The threat he issued now was real, and it raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Clover’s eyes widened, the mage taking a step back, and her hands came up in front of her, glowing red with pools of fire magic. Fuck. There was no way she could fight a mage in her condition, let alone a fire mage.

  “Whoa, easy,” she said quickly, showing her palms as proof she wasn’t a threat. “It’s okay, Frost. The wolf and I are spirit bound, and there’s too much magic in these walls. They’ll inhibit our connection, and we cannot be separated. I do not wish to insult your people, so we can wait outside instead. It’s not a big deal. We don’t mind.”

  The truth was the ethereal magic of the cuff and its chains would probably let him wait outside without any trouble, but she wasn’t about to be a
lone among strangers right now. Not when she could collapse in another attack from the curse at any moment, and she wasn’t entirely convinced she could trust their guide.

  Clover studied her closely for several seconds, her eyes traveling down the length of the chain linking the two of them together. With a sigh, she straightened and the red glow in her hands dissipated. She lowered them and flipped her hair back over her shoulder before pointing at Wren and Frida. The cat noticed the attention and gave a chirpy little mew, lifting her chin and expecting pets.

  “What about those two?” she asked in a dry voice. Wren snorted and stomped her foot, lowering her head to point her antlers at the mage until Elsie set a hand on her shoulder.

  “They are not tied to me in the same way,” she answered.

  “Very well. Because he is spirit bound, we can accommodate the wolf. The other two will remain outside, where it’s expected they will not wreak havoc.” Clover lifted an eyebrow at the deer-shaped spirit of the wild.

  “They’ll behave themselves,” Elsie promised, taking Frida from her shoulders and setting her on Wren’s instead. “Look after Miss Kahlo for me, will you? We won’t be far, just inside here, and I’ll have Frost with me,” she added when the deer gave her the sternest look possible, which was difficult when she was so damned cute. Elsie bent down and dropped a kiss on her forehead, careful to avoid the antlers.

  Wren heaved an annoyed sigh, but she stepped to the side and folded her legs under her, determined to wait just outside the door. Frost had already adjusted his size, so he took up more room than was necessary, but he could at least fit through the door without knocking anything over.

  “This way,” Clover said, leading her through the first room. It was set up kind of like a lodge. There were tables to play games and eat, along with a small library and comfortable chairs, a few of which were occupied. It was a gathering place for the community, and Elsie loved it. The whole village reminded her of places she’d visited as a child with her mother. Places where kinship was valued above all else.