The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  She nods as if she understands, but her vacant expression says otherwise. “A Reaper…”

  “Reapers help human souls transition to the heavens or to hell, as the case may be.”

  Her eyes find me again, and I see a hint of fear in them. “You don’t think—”

  I cut her off before she has to say something terrible out loud. “No, I don’t. Andrew is in the heavens, waiting for you.” I take her hand in both of mine, stopping her from toying with the thread on her shorts. “And I hope he has to wait a very long time.”

  She doesn’t respond, and silence returns to the tiny apartment. I’m not sure what will happen next. I don’t think a bolt of lightning will come down and strike me dead for telling her. But I brace myself for some kind of consequence anyway.

  When she speaks again, her voice is soft and hesitant. “Penn, I believe you. I’ve seen the beauty you can create out of literally nothing. I’ll never forget the feeling I experienced when we first met. Like you knew me better than I knew myself. But I couldn’t explain why. It was one of the reasons why I nearly told you to get lost. You were creeping me out.”

  “I’m pretty sure you said as much at the time, but you pretended it was a joke.”

  She doesn’t laugh like I hope she will. But she does keep talking. “But just because I believe you doesn’t mean I can get my head around what you’re telling me.”

  With that one sentence, all the wind comes out of my sails, and I slump over. “You’re talking about myths and fairy tales being real. I’m not sure I can just nod my head and be one hundred percent okay with that.”

  Nodding, I ask her, “Would you like me to go?”

  “What? No,” she says automatically, and then reconsiders. “Maybe. I don’t know. I need time to think.”

  “Okay, I’ll go for a walk. Text me in a few hours. If you still need more time, I’ll grab a room for the night at the hotel down the street.” I stand to go, but she doesn’t release my hand.

  “You know I love you, right?” she says as her eyes fill with tears, making the green in them shimmer.

  “You know I love you, right?” She nods and lets me go.

  Being mid-August, it’s quite warm out, so I just grab my keys and start walking. I head down to the park and sit for a bit, watching the couples wander the quiet paths and feed the birds. I consider calling Fia, but I know what she’ll say to me. I got myself into this mess. “You saw that pile of crap, and you stepped in it anyway.” I can hear her voice as clearly as if she’s standing right here next to me. So I keep walking through the city streets.

  Eventually, I find myself back at the cemetery, standing in front of Andrew’s gravestone. “Well, my friend. What do I do now?”

  Andrew doesn’t answer, of course, and I chuckle. “Just like you to give me judgmental silence. Didn’t know you were friends with such a freak, did you?”

  I glance at my watch. It’s after midnight. Just over three hours since I left. Checking my phone, I see I’ve still received no word from Kismet, so I text her.

  OK to come back?

  I walk over to a nearby tree and lean on it while I wait for her response. Some part of me hopes the old tree will give me strength. I wait five more minutes for an answer before I start walking home. It isn’t like her not to answer a text, and a sense of dread washes over me, making the distance home feel like a million miles.

  Maybe she’s in the tub, or she could have already gone to bed. Maybe it’s nothing at all to worry about. Still, I quicken my pace until I’m flat out running back to our apartment. I climb the stairs leading over the shop two at a time, only stopping when I reach the upstairs hallway. What I see there staggers me down to my very soul.

  Michaela gives me a sad look as she steps out of my apartment. She’s holding Kismet’s hand.

  “No,” I whisper. Kismet looks at me, confusion masking her features. She tries to go to me, but Michaela holds her hand tight and tugs her down the hall away from me.

  “Michaela, wait! Please. What’s happening? Don’t take her from me. Please. Her thread is longer than this!” I beg, but the two women fade into the dim light at the end of the hall, leaving me alone on Earth.

  14.

  If I thought questions plagued me after Andrew died, I was wrong. In the hours and days after Kismet’s death, question after question after question shakes my soul. How did this happen? Why? What could I have done to save her? Is this my punishment for telling her the truth? Or is it part of my banishment? Did someone wish to destroy my life on Earth by snipping short first Andrew’s thread and then Kismet’s? Or is Webber taking his revenge on me by erasing my two most glorious creations?

  There are no answers for my questions, but Webber seems the most likely culprit. I can’t imagine the repercussions of taking a soul like Kismet’s before her time. If I was banished for a stillborn, I shudder to think of what they might do to Webber.

  It’s no more than he deserves, I think darkly as I sit with Fia in my apartment above the shop. We don’t speak much. She knows my questions. She’s heard them all. She’s just here with me. I called her after I got home that night, and she hasn’t left since.

  Cedric steps in again, just as he did when Andrew died. He’s the one who calls Kismet’s folks; he’s the one who makes all the arrangements for her funeral. Cody and Aida drop by daily to make sure I eat at least one meal.

  Finally, wanting some time to myself before the funeral, I convince Fia to go home for a while. Cedric stops by to see me. I’m sitting in the hallway when he arrives, staring at the place where Michaela and Kismet disappeared, willing them to return.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  I shrug. “Nothing.”

  “Clearly. Are you locked out?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Well, I’m hungry. Want to eat?” he asks, holding up a takeout bag from some place up the street.

  I shrug again, and Cedric nudges me with his foot. “Come on, man. I’m not about to feed you out in the hall like you’re some overgrown toddler. Get up and let’s eat.” His tone is firm but not harsh. It’s just enough to spur me into movement.

  “How long were you out there?” Cedric asks.

  I shrug a second time as I go through the motions of getting plates and silverware out for dinner. Absently, I get out three place settings. I don’t even realize it until we’re already seated around the table.

  I stare at her empty seat, and Cedric tries to ignore it.

  “Did you hear from the hospital yet?” he asks as he gets out the boxes of food.

  “Yes, I did. She died of natural causes, just like Andrew did.”

  “That’s odd,” Cedric says.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You weren’t here?”

  “No. I told you. We had a fight, so I went out for a walk.”

  “What were you fighting about?” Cedric asks.

  I search his face in an effort to read him. He’s only looking for answers, the same way I am, but his questions aren’t the right ones. “Doesn’t much matter now, does it?”

  Cedric stabs at his Japanese noodles. “No, I don’t suppose it does.”

  We eat in silence for a while, until Cedric asks another question. “They’re doing a memorial service for her on Broadway over the weekend, did you see that?”

  I nod. She wasn’t on Broadway for long, but everyone there loved her. They sold out almost every night she was on stage. The community is reeling almost as much from her sudden death as I am.

  “Think you’ll go?”

  “Probably.” I push the food around on my plate, thinking about Michaela’s sad expression. Why wouldn’t she talk to me? Is it because I was banished? Or because there wasn’t time for her to explain? She seemed so sad. It was the first time I’d ever seen that look on her face, but then again, it was the first I’d ever seen her in action. It can’t be easy to constantly take souls from their loved ones.

  “Penn…” Cedric trails off, as
if he has something delicate to say. I look up at him in an effort to give the man at least some of my attention. “What will you do?”

  I just look at him. What will I do? I’m stuck on Earth for an eternity. And now it seems as if I will spend that eternity completely alone.

  Rather than let me despair, he offers a solution. “You might want to consider coming back to work. I’ve seen how you can lose yourself in it. It might help.” He takes a bite of food, giving me time to consider. “Not today of course, or tomorrow, but soon. Don’t sit around the apartment alone for too long, okay? It isn’t good for you.”

  “Oh, it isn’t?” I heatedly say. “How do you know what’s good for me?”

  “I know that sitting out in the hallway like that isn’t good for anyone.” Cedric eyes me with a raised eyebrow. “Listen, I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you, but sitting here alone won’t change it.”

  “That’s true.” What he says gets my wheels turning. My plan to corner Michaela didn’t work—not even when I saw her face to face. Maybe it’s time to try to find a Watcher. What do I have to lose at this point? Now that Kismet is no longer with me, there’s much less of a risk. I have been left with holes filled with questions where my loved ones used to be.

  I know Cedric is right; I can’t just sit around stewing. But I have to form a plan.

  Cedric must see my mind working. “What?”

  “I’m just thinking you’re right. Sitting here won’t get me any answers.”

  Cedric’s eyes narrow as he watches me eat my food in a very utilitarian way. I’m not enjoying it, but I still mechanically bring the food to my face.

  I suspect my friend knows there’s more to what I’ve said than I care to elaborate on at the moment, but he doesn’t ask, and I don’t offer the information.

  “I’ll come back to work on Monday, okay? I’m sure there’s plenty to do,” I say, trying to appease Cedric. That will give me the weekend to recover from Kismet’s funeral, which is on Friday, the day after tomorrow. Thinking about it turns the food in my mouth bitter, and I forcefully push the plate away.

  If Cedric notices, he doesn’t comment. “Good. That’ll be good.” We don’t discuss it any further. We just start cleaning up in silence.

  “Thank you for bringing dinner,” I say as I walk Cedric to the door.

  “Of course. I’ll see you on Friday. Don’t loiter in the hall, okay? I mean it. It’s weird.”

  Rather than respond, I stare down the hall as Cedric pats me on the arm and walks away. Once again, I’m alone.

  Friday washes over me like a vat of hot tar. I hold out my hands, trying to stop it, but there’s nothing I can do. It consumes me, pouring over my mouth, lungs, and eyes, covering me in blackness.

  Her funeral is closed to the public, so only her close friends and family are in attendance. She’s buried next to Andrew because I know that’s the way she’d want it to be. Now they can spend eternity together. Maybe that’s all there is to it. They were fated to be together, and when they couldn’t do that on Earth, she naturally followed him into heaven. Maybe her thread was so damaged by Andrew’s death that she simply died. Who knows? I’m growing tired of the constant questions, and now they’re all for nothing.

  Her parents stand on the other side of the grave, her mother a total basket case, as any mother would be, and her dad standing behind her like a cold, stone statue. They don’t speak to me as they leave. They never agreed with Kismet’s decision to make our relationship romantic, particularly since it seemed to confirm their initial suspicions about us after Andrew died. So she didn’t speak with them much this past year, and the last time they saw each other was that horrible night in my apartment. I suspect the regret they both feel might crush them, and I can only hope they won’t succumb. I want the domino effect created by Andrew’s death to end.

  Fia stands with me during the service, holding my hand, holding me up. As people leave, she tries to pull me away, but I’m not ready. I can’t go with her.

  “All right. Take all the time you need, honey. You know how to reach me when you need me.”

  Finally, I’m alone at Kismet’s side, looking down into the grave at her casket, littered with pink flowers. I hold a single white rose. The distance between us feels so great—so much vaster than when she was on Earth and I was in the heavens. I collapse to the ground, sorrow overwhelming me. It’s over. Truly. My banishment begins at this moment. Without her, my life is nothing.

  After a few moments, I drop my white rose down among the pink ones, and hoist myself up. I start walking, finding myself leaning against the big tree near their graves, the one I leaned against while I was trying to reach Kismet that fateless night. Tears run down my cheeks as I slide down to the ground next to the tree. I lean heavily against it, wanting it to swallow me whole, willing it to take my burdens from me.

  What if I’m at fault for her death? What if they really did take her because of what I told her? Or what if she and Andrew both died because of the ripples my appearance caused in their lives? Am I doomed to live out my banishment as some kind of angel of death? Bringing all the lives I touch to an early end? The guilt I feel brings on a new wave of sobs.

  Minutes pass, and then hours, but I don’t even consider getting up and going home. I can’t think past this moment. The black tar so engulfs me, I can’t move my arms and legs. I can’t leave her there. It’s too final. Up until this moment, it was easy to pretend she was just away. That she was at a dress rehearsal, or having drinks with her coworkers. Now I have no choice but to accept that she’s truly gone, and the world seems like such a dark, dark place.

  “Penn?” I hear a familiar voice softly calling my name.

  My breath catches in my throat as I look up.

  “Michaela.”

  15.

  I can’t die, so I’m confused to see her there. I look around, searching for someone she’s here to collect. But it’s just the two of us. Workers filled in Kismet’s grave while I was leaning against the tree. Darkness fell hours ago, and Michaela is standing just beyond Kismet’s resting place, barely visible.

  Seeing Michaela there, so angelic in her gown that flows white at her shoulders and gradually fades to gray, then black at the bottom, totally concealing her feet, I can’t be mad at her for taking Kismet from me. When I finally bring myself to look at her face, her expression banishes what little traces of anger may have been left. Pure and total anguish twists her typically joyful face.

  I reach out to Michaela, wanting so badly to connect with this soul who knows my pain firsthand.

  But she doesn’t move from her spot, so I stop short.

  “What are you doing here?” The question comes out a little more accusatory than was intended.

  “Something isn’t right, Penn. I can’t put my finger on what’s going on, but…” She trails off, as if she’s been searching for the same answers I am.

  “I knew it.” I breathe.

  “Kismet and Andrew aren’t the only two who have died before their time.”

  I put out a hand and lean on a nearby headstone, needing to stabilize myself from the weight of the news she’s heaped on my shoulders. It’s happening to others.

  “Webber?”

  “What about him?”

  “I assumed he might be behind it, since Andrew and Kismet were the first to go.”

  “But they weren’t,” she says, adamant. “We didn’t notice it right away. But it started before you left. That’s what I was trying to tell you and your sisters that day. It’s happening more and more frequently now. There are names popping up on my list that weren’t scheduled to be there for years—decades, in most cases.” She nods her head toward Kismet’s grave.

  “And that poor girl.” A tear trickles down Michaela’s cheek as she remembers taking the love of my life. “She was so confused and reluctant. She knew it wasn’t right. It wasn’t her time.”

  “So it wasn’t because I inserted myself into her life? It wasn�
��t because I told her who I was?” I say absently, almost to myself.

  “What? No. How could it be? It started before you left. And unless you also told Andrew and a handful of other souls, that can’t be the cause.”

  “No. She was the only one. I had just told her that night. She was overwhelmed, so I went for a walk. That’s when you decided to come for her. If I’d been there, I would have tried to stop you.” I should feel relieved. But I don’t. Something is so wrong with the world right now that it sours what little hope is left in me.

  She smiles sadly at me. “Penn, you know you can’t stop one of us. Once a name is on our list, that’s it.”

  “Were you the one who came for Andrew?” I ask quietly.

  “No. I was on another assignment that day. I’m so sorry, Penn. About everything.”

  “So it’s not Webber? He was my only real suspect,” I say as I sit down right there in the middle of the cemetery. She sits next to me Indian-style, wrapping her dress around her knees.

  “I don’t think so. Although he certainly didn’t waste any time to get comfortable in your spot. Truth be told, even Galenia is having trouble getting along with him. If he’s not careful, he won’t last.”

  I frown. “I don’t like hearing that. I want the girls to be happy.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  We sit in silence for a few moments, and the wind blows Michaela’s blonde hair away from her face and off her shoulders. She turns her face to it and closes her eyes. “You know, as hard as my job is sometimes, I really do love it on Earth, especially the wind. It’s almost like it carries the breath of those who have passed.”

  I breathe it in, and it’s remarkably fresh for the city. I try to let it energize me, but the week’s events have left me so bitterly tired. Leaning forward, I rest my head in my hands. “Michaela, why are you here?”

  “I need your help, Penn. I need you to come home.”