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The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

Page 22

by Stephanie Erickson


  A frown creases Ryker’s forehead. “As a result of your… malcontent,” he says, staring at them, “9,752 human souls were left behind. Because of you.” I follow his gaze, expecting to see a bunch of apologetic, cowed Reapers, but they don’t even look at him. Although they’ve stopped causing a commotion, they still don’t acknowledge him. They’re busy studying their nails, talking to each other, or fiddling with various belongings.

  “I would like to remind each and every one of you that your actions, whatever they are, will have consequences.” He returns his attention to those of us who are still gathered around the platform. “Thank you to those who did their best today. You kept the number of souls left behind as low as possible. I hope we can do even better tomorrow, and that more of you will decide to return to your posts.” He doesn’t sign off; he simply walks off the platform and leaves.

  I think I hear the group of dissenters mocking him as he leaves, and I actually find myself worried about them. How could these heavenly beings have wandered so far astray? What will happen to them as a result of their choices? Penn was punished for accidentally cutting one life short, so I know the punishment for their far graver crime won’t be pretty. As I pass by, Heth calls out to me.

  “Hey Goody Two-shoes. Seems like your best efforts weren’t enough. Why even bother?” he asks, and the others around him laugh. The Reaper next to him claps him on the back.

  But I don’t have to answer. Miette, the shy Reaper who faced her fears this morning, stands up to them. “Because even one life makes all the difference in the world. It matters.” In that moment, I am so proud of her, of what we do, that it doesn’t matter what they say in reply. She takes my hand, and we walk out of the naming room together.

  “Thank you.” I say to her once we’re outside the glass doors.

  “No, thank you. I nearly made a very bad mistake today. You saved me from it.” There’s a twinkle in her deep brown eyes as she smiles up at me. Then she retreats, heading toward the quarters hall. I can’t help but smile in spite of the dismal day. I made a difference on Earth and in this Reaper’s life. Now, if only I can make a difference in hell.

  6

  When I return to my own room, everyone is there waiting for me. They’re already dressed and ready to go. Penn is striking as a Reaper, and the uniform fits his sculpted body as if it were made for him. But I’m concerned. Without his Keeper’s hood, his face is totally exposed.

  “You can’t wear that here. You’ll be recognized.” I think of how unsavory my comrades have been acting and shake my head. “You can’t be seen around here. To make matters worse, my peers can’t be trusted right now.”

  “What happened today, Michaela?” he asked.

  “Well, there weren’t any surprises, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That’s good?” He says it almost like a question.

  “The Reapers didn’t change their minds. Four of them stayed behind today, so we left behind almost ten thousand souls. Ten thousand new ghosts who will be doomed to wander the Earth forever. All in one day. It usually takes centuries to create that many ghosts. In fact, there might not even have been that many ghosts before today. We might have more than doubled the ghost population on Earth in one day.”

  Flopping down onto the empty couch, I throw my arm over my eyes, trying to block out that terrible number and the mission that lies ahead. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, thousands of souls lost their tickets home, and there’s nothing I can do to help them or prevent it from happening again. I’m overwhelmed, so I stop thinking about it. Right now, all that exists is this couch, the darkness behind my eyes, and the sound of my breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

  Penn is the one who breaks through my haze. “Michaela, this isn’t your fault. I’m sure you did everything you could to save as many people as possible. You can’t control other people’s choices.” He pulls my arm off my face, and I look up at him with shining eyes.

  “What you can control is how you react. So tuck in your bottom lip and lead us the hell into hell.” He’s trying a little too hard, but I appreciate that he is trying. I give a token chuckle and swipe at my tears. Galenia is watching me as I sit up, and I can almost see her broken heart through her clear blue eyes. She tucks her long, brown hair behind her ears, comes over, and silently embraces me. The others say nothing; they simply allow me this moment to grieve for those I lost today. Those we lost today. Although it solves nothing, it’s exactly what I need.

  Eventually, I take a breath. When I look up, Penn is donning his Keeper’s uniform and the others are wearing their Reaper outfits.

  “Not sure I want to be associated with a Keeper,” Webber says, nodding to Penn’s clothing. His tone hints at the bit of truth behind his joke.

  “We do make a misfit bunch, don’t we?” Horatia asks, eyeing herself in her Reaper’s uniform. It hugs her body in all the right places, and her dark hair flows down her back, complementing the look quite nicely.

  No one answers her, and we look at each other for a moment, each of us undoubtedly thinking the same thing—we are about to go on a suicide mission. But none of us tries to leave or back out. After a few heartbeats, Penn moves to the door and exits. The rest of our group follows, and I bring up the rear.

  We walk in silence to the gate in the mists. Penn knows the way by now, so he walks up ahead with his head bowed down. I glance around as we walk. Horatia’s right. We do look like a bunch of misfits. I can only hope we don’t draw too much attention to ourselves as we make our way toward the gate. Lucky for us, most of the Reapers have adjourned to the common room or their own quarters. Even the dissenters have dispersed, and I find myself wondering if they’ve already been punished. I still don’t quite know how I feel about that. They deserve their fate. But I’ve worked with many of them for a very long time. The thought of their demise saddens me.

  A thought occurs to me as we make our way to the gates of heaven. Maybe they’ll be banished to Earth and assigned to manage the ghosts. It’s a perfect and appropriate solution. So much so, it makes me smile a little. I consider suggesting it to Ryker, but he has enough on his plate without me trying to tell him how to do his job. Besides, there’s no time for stalling.

  We make it to the gate without being stopped. Penn goes through first without hesitation. Horatia and Galenia stop abruptly, and Webber nearly collides with them.

  “What’s the hold up, ladies?”

  “We’ve never been outside before. Ever,” Galenia says as she stares at the gate, almost in awe of the golden figures carved on its surface.

  Horatia’s hand is suspended midair, reaching out for the door but not quite touching it, marveling at it just like Galenia is doing.

  “Penn is just on the other side, waiting for you,” I say. “This will be an adventure you can take together. Just like old times.”

  “That makes me feel great,” Webber flatly says.

  “Webber, we all have our own roles to play in this,” I say. “Roles that do not require whining.”

  I nod toward the gate, urging the girls to go through. They look at each other, take a deep breath, and do just that. Webber and I follow before the gate has a chance to close.

  “What took you so long?” Penn asks.

  I shrug at Penn, handing him his Reaper’s clothes, and nod toward the girls, who are walking around the misty area with their mouths hanging open. The three gates are clustered around us in all their glory. Our gate stands behind us, the gate of heaven is to our right, and the gate of hell is to our left. Naturally, everyone is drawn to heaven’s gate. They all wander toward it, taking in its beauty. I stand back, allowing them this moment to appreciate one last good thing before we enter a place where the word “good” doesn’t exist.

  Finally, they turn toward the gates of hell. Webber and the girls shrink away. It’s huge, black, and terrifying to be sure. Even Penn, who’s already seen it, takes a step back.

  “Everyone still on board w
ith our plan?” I ask, unsure of how to proceed. I hadn’t anticipated losing them so early in the journey. The things they might see behind the barricades are much worse than the gates themselves. If they can’t steel themselves now, they’ll never make it back out unscathed.

  Galenia is the first to set her jaw and walk toward me, stretching out her hand and pushing through the gate. “Let’s go,” she says. Horatia follows, then Penn, who’s back in his Reaper disguise. Webber falls in behind them, and I bring up the rear, which fits with our cover story. We are a group of Reapers touring hell. Nothing more, nothing less.

  Once on the other side, the group lets out a collective gasp. It’s certainly an unforgettable sight. Despite the expanse of the cavern we’ve just entered, it’s claustrophobic. The darkness is only eased by the eerie red glow coming from the torches lining the stone walls, and the smell of sulfur permeates the air. I hate crossing into hell. The immediate urge to get out always overwhelms me. Today is no different. My body clamors to turn back, but I stand up straight, taking step after step away from the gate.

  “This way,” I say, pushing through the group to lead. “Penn, stay at the back to make sure no one lags behind.”

  He nods and takes his place while Webber walks between Horatia and Galenia. With any luck, we’ll pass by undetected. The Reapers aren’t working right now, which means the demons aren’t either. They’re not expecting anyone. They might all be…well, doing whatever demons do in their down time. My heart hopes, but my mind doesn’t believe it for a second.

  We follow the winding corridors for quite some time, getting so close to the prison that I can hear the moans coming from inside. I glance back at Penn, who has a stricken look on his face.

  When I turn back around, I find myself face to face with a demon. His scorched black body hulks over me. The cracks in his skin glow red, matching his eyes, and his black wings extend out on either side of him.

  “What are you doing here, Reaper?” he asks, not backing down. Straightening, I look right at him. I can hear the others nervously shifting their weight behind me. I swear one of them is whimpering, and I’m willing to bet it isn’t one of the girls.

  “We’re conducting a tour for new trainees now that the workday is over. Seeing as we’re shorthanded, there’s no other time for it,” I say, trying to sound confident.

  He glances over my shoulder. “Quite a large group for this time of night. That one there doesn’t seem suited for the job.” He nods toward Webber.

  I eye Webber, silently urging him to keep his cool. “We need all the help we can get.”

  “Things must be desperate indeed if you’re using the likes of this one.”

  “Hey,” Webber says, clearly feeling wounded. “No one talks to me like that, especially not a lowlife like you.”

  I tense. It’s not a good idea to engage the demons. I glance at Penn, but he’s busy glaring at Webber.

  “Lowlife, hmm? I think you’ll find our working relationship requires a bit more respect than that, Reaper.” He turns back to me. “He has a lot to learn. You have your work cut out for you,” he says. He isn’t wrong.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to it then,” I say, hoping to cut our interaction short.

  “I’m not busy. Would you like a private tour? I can show you where we put those who think they are better than others.” The malice in his voice makes my skin crawl.

  I clear my throat. “No, but thank you. I’m sure you would like to enjoy your downtime. Things have been busy lately.”

  “How thoughtful of you. But I truly don’t mind. There’s someone I want to check on anyway. Come. Follow me.”

  We exchange nervous glances, but ultimately, there is nothing we can do. We have no choice but to follow him. All of us manage to sneak a glare at Webber, who maintains his stiff posture and avoids eye contact with everyone. He doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. I sigh, hoping we don’t regret the decision to include him.

  Much to my chagrin, two other demons join our tour guide at his invitation. They’re enjoying this, if for no other reason than to make the new recruits uncomfortable. Trial by fire. Normally, new Reapers handle their first visit to hell relatively well. It can be overwhelming to see all these terrors in one place, but Reapers only come here after receiving extensive training on what to expect, so it’s not as much of an assault on the senses as my poor Fates are experiencing.

  We walk away from the prison, and I glance over my shoulder at it, catching Penn’s eye in the process. His face is red, and while the demon’s back is to us, I mime for him to take a deep breath. We’re not out of the woods by a long shot, and I need him to stay with me.

  I’m not quite sure how we will shake the demons, but I know it won’t help if one of us disappears or goes rogue.

  After a few twists and turns through the dark caverns of hell, we arrive at an area I’ve never seen before. There are so many doors on either side of the eerie hallway that I lose count.

  “Why aren’t these hallways smoky? There are so many lit torches. Seems like we should be choking by now,” Horatia asks. I can tell she’s trying to focus on anything besides the fact that we’re off course and surrounded by demons.

  “An observant one,” the demon says. It’s supposed to be praise, but nothing from his voice would sound positive. Judging from the look on Horatia’s face, I gather she feels the same way. “It’s not real fire. Only light. You can touch the flames if you’d like.” He nods toward the torch nearest us, but Horatia shakes her head no.

  “I believe you.”

  The demon laughs, his colleagues joining in, and the horrible shrieking sound makes all of us shrink back. I fight hard not to cover my ears.

  “That would be your first mistake, dear Reaper. Never trust a demon.”

  “Noted,” she says, eying him. He just continues to chuckle as he walks along.

  After what feels like an eternity, the three demons stop in a seemingly random spot. The door we stand in front of is black, much like the gate, except there are no intricate designs on it. It’s simply a black door that fits perfectly into the rounded archway in which it hangs. The handle feels like a black hole that will suck in the soul of whoever touches it, and I find myself recoiling from it a bit.

  The demon opens the ancient door without a second thought. It creaks with age, as if complaining about its sudden use. All I can see inside is blackness. No windows or torches offer any kind of relief.

  The demon that originally found us gestures inside. “This is where we keep souls to await processing while we find the perfect home for them here in hell.”

  “There’s no light in there.” It flows out of my mouth as a statement, not a question.

  “No, there isn’t,” the demon said, sounding unduly proud. “There’s also nothing in there that can hurt them, but they don’t know that. The human mind is sometimes all the torture we need around here.” His smile is gruesome.

  “Perhaps you’d like to see inside.” His confident tone makes me hesitate.

  But Webber is so puffed up after his perceived slight that he pushes past our group and into the room.

  “It’s not so scary in here. Maybe you should up your game, demon,” he says, goading the demon on.

  “Maybe I should,” he says as he slams the black door home.

  I hear Webber laugh nervously on the other side, and we all uneasily shift our weight.

  “Okay, your point is made. Let him out, and we’ll just go. Clearly, this isn’t a good time for a tour,” I say, keeping my tone as professional and even as possible.

  The demon laughs, but this time, there’s no glee in it like there was before. He’s mocking me.

  At the sound of his laughter, Webber starts to panic. Banging on the door, he starts screaming. “Let me out! I am a heavenly being. You can’t do this to me.”

  This spurs even more laughter from the demons. “Looks like we just did.”

  I touch the demon’s arm and pull him aside. He
looks at my hand, clearly surprised by my action. Contact between us isn’t typically physical, but I’m hoping to break him out of this cycle.

  He looks at me with eyes that burn with curiosity. “This is enough,” I say. “Your point is made. It’s time to end this game.”

  He smiles broadly at me, showing me his gruesome rows of sharp, yellowing teeth, spaced far enough apart to reveal a red glow behind them.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Reaper. Here in hell, you don’t make the rules. I do.” He turns to his comrades. “What do you think, boys? A day or two in there ought to teach him some respect.”

  “You can’t do this,” I say, my voice rising in panic, but I try to make it sound like anger and authority.

  “I already have, dear Reaper. I don’t believe you would have been able to teach him the lessons he needs to learn. Come back in a day or two, and maybe we’ll let him go.”

  “That’s a lie, and you know it,” I say accusingly.

  “You’re catching on,” he says with a grin. He looks at the others, who’ve remained silent during our exchange. “Seems like your trainees have lost their stomach for the tour. Perhaps I should lead you out.”

  “I’m not leaving without him.” I point aggressively toward the closed door.

  Webber continues to scream, but his words have become jumbled by panic, so I can no longer understand what he’s saying.

  The demon laughs and gestures toward the door. “He didn’t think it was that scary in there. I’d hate to see him in a real torture chamber.” His eyes light up as he looks at his companions. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if we hid him deeper in hell before you came to retrieve him?” The laughter from the three demons is low and slow. Menacing.

  “You can’t do this. I will report you.”

  “I don’t answer to your authorities, Reaper. And I think my own boss will be quite entertained by my quarry,” he answers. “Now, I can escort you out peacefully, or you can join your friend in the empty rooms around him.”

  “Don’t leave me in here!” Webber shouts, finally intelligible.

 

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