The Children of Wisdom Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  I frown. “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t trap the ghosts forever. It’s hard on them. They’ll dissipate if I just keep them contained. I don’t want to be responsible for that, even if they’re unhappy with their current situation.”

  “I don’t have any other solutions for you right now, Wyatt. But believe me, if we learn something, you’ll be the first person I tell,” I say, glad to have an ally on this side.

  He stands to leave, reaching out his hand for me. I stand too and shake it. “Michaela. Best of luck to you.”

  “You too, Wyatt. Until we meet again.” I feel certain this isn’t the last time our paths will cross.

  He nods and walks to the door.

  “Wyatt?” He turns to me. “Thank you.”

  “Any time, missy.” He smiles out of one side of his mouth and leaves Alvin and me to our business.

  “Well, shall we go see your wife?” I ask him.

  “I’d like that,” he says as we begin walking into the mists.

  Alvin was my last for the day. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve worked through the night to make up for our losses, but we have to save Webber. We can’t leave him in hell for another day. Who knows what will become of him in there. Even if we succeed in rescuing him, he may not recover from the torture if he’s left there too long.

  I shuffle back to the naming room, where the dissenters are lounging around a circular table with their feet propped up. They’re laughing and carrying on. A sudden rush of anger gives me energy and makes me stand up a little straighter. I storm over to them.

  “You nearly cost me my life today,” I say, gracing them all with my most withering stare.

  One or two of them look up with a surprised expression, but Heth steadfastly ignores me.

  “I was attacked by ghosts today, and it was all because of your selfish behavior. The only danger out there is the one you’ve created.”

  Heth smiles condescendingly at me, but the others look a little uncomfortable.

  “What were you doing around ghosts in the first place? Sounds to me like you endangered yourself,” Heth says while examining his fingernails.

  “They sought me out. They knew they weren’t supposed to be there. At first, there were only a handful of them, but as the day went on, more and more gathered around each of the souls I was supposed to collect. They wanted to know why the people on my list were more special than they were. Why someone didn’t come for them. And the way the children looked at me—” I stop. A hand squeezes my shoulder.

  I recognize the small fingers as Miette’s. Turning, I hug her, so relieved to see that she’s returned in one piece. Given her gentle nature, I was most worried about her.

  “You’re okay,” I breathe.

  “Barely.” She turns to face the group. “It was the same for me. Is anyone else back yet?”

  One of the dissenters shakes his head with a grave expression on his face. But the rest of the Reapers do eventually return. By some miracle, the ghosts haven’t succeeded in claiming any of us today. Once we’re all gathered, Ryker walks silently to the platform to address us.

  “Today was a needlessly dangerous day. I’m sorry. I’m working on defenses for you. Unfortunately, due to complications and a lack of participation…” He eyes the dissenters. Only Heth is still smiling. The others are hanging their heads. “17,632 ghosts have been created in the last two days. That’s almost twenty thousand ghosts who are going to try to absorb your life force and use it to go home. Be on your guard.”

  This news causes us all to shift uncomfortably, even the dissenters. A few clear their throats. We look away from Ryker and exchange uneasy glances.

  I clear my throat. “I was saved by a human today.”

  Silence reigns in the room, and Ryker looks closely at me. “A human?”

  “A medium. Or so he called himself. He could see the ghosts. Just happened to be driving by when I was collecting my last soul for the day.” I eye Ryker, wondering if he sent Wyatt, or if the order came from higher up. “He saved me.”

  “He can control them?” Ryker narrows his gaze at me.

  “For a time, anyway. Not indefinitely.”

  Ryker nods. “Valuable information. Thank you, Michaela.”

  The room is silent for a few beats while they absorb what I’ve just revealed.

  “There’s more,” he says, and we brace ourselves for what’s to come. I can guess the news from his grim expression, and my stomach rolls. I’m not sure I can handle this today.

  “A new name has appeared on the list for tomorrow. Another surprise.”

  A collective gasp tears through the group. Even the dissenters are upset by the news.

  “Michaela, I need you to retrieve this one.” I nod. Despite the fact that I collected the last surprise, I feel it’s my duty to make sure this one makes it to his or her final destination.

  I wait patiently for the name, and it hits me like a freight train.

  Lily Moynagh. A child.

  8

  “No.” I breathe. “This can’t be right. Not a child,” I plead with Ryker.

  But I can tell from his stiff posture there’s nothing he can do, and he’s as unhappy about this news as I am. “The name was clear when it appeared, although I don’t disagree that there’s been a mistake.”

  “But she’s a child. None of the other surprises were this young.”

  “I know,” he says as he climbs down from the platform. I follow him desperately, like some sad puppy looking for reassurance.

  “Do you? This can’t be happening, sir. Not a child. Not like this. The parents…” It doesn’t matter that I don’t know who they are. I can’t shake the image of them clinging to their daughter as I steal her from them before her time. It fuels the anger building in me.

  “It’s needless,” I insist. “How is this any different from what Penn was banished for? It’s an unnecessary loss of life,” I say, and all motion and chatter ceases around me.

  Ryker turns to me. “It’s not. And whoever is responsible will not be given the luxury of banishment. That I can assure you of.”

  “Is Nathair doing this?” someone in the back of the crowd asks.

  “We don’t know. All we know for sure is that a new name popped up today after several days of silence.” He pauses and looks at each of our faces in turn. “Now, more than ever, I need you all to join together to help us fight what’s happening. Selfishness will no longer be tolerated.”

  “What does that mean?” Heth demands, clearly irritated by the threat.

  Ryker crosses the room and approaches him until the two men are nearly nose to nose—or they would be if Ryker weren’t so much bigger. “It means make your choice now, before my forgiveness is outside of your reach.” With that, he turns abruptly and leaves.

  When the glass doors close, I feel like they’re closing on my heart. A child.

  “A child,” Miette whispered behind me. “How will you bring yourself to do it? I’m not sure I could.”

  “I must. Or she will become one of the ghosts.” The thought fans the flames of my anger. “Unless…”

  I walk away, increasing my pace with each step. One man could stop all of this with a single word. And that little girl’s name is all the motivation I need to ask Him. Maybe He has a plan, but how can it include the early death of a child who was supposed to live a long, full life? How can that possibly be good and perfect? With my world unraveling around me, I feel like I can no longer depend on His plan. In fact, for the first time, I find myself doubting it.

  Miette jogs to keep up with me. “Where are you going?”

  “To see someone who can put a stop to this, once and for all,” I say, leaving her behind me as I race to see God.

  I pound on the solid white door rather unceremoniously. It opens so suddenly that my fist is left hanging in the air. Although this is my first visit to God’s office, we all know where it is. We’re shown during training, and it’s assumed we won’t com
e here unless summoned. But today, I don’t care about assumptions. I care about getting answers.

  His office is rather barren, and the white-on-white décor doesn’t help. Maybe He’s going for a minimalist approach.

  I march through the door and approach His desk. He’s sitting there, writing something down, his glasses perched neatly at the end of his nose. “Please, sit down if you’d like, Michaela.” He doesn’t look up when he speaks. The deep, soothing voice of God does nothing to calm me, though perhaps that’s because I’m too wrapped up in my own problems to let that happen.

  “I would prefer to stand,” I say, much too fired up to settle into the plush white armchair across from Him.

  “That’s fine. I’ll just be a moment,” he says. In all honesty, I didn’t really expect Him to see me at all. He’s obviously very busy—he is, after all, God—and I just stormed into his office. He has no obligation to hear my rant. These thoughts are enough to give me foresight to wait—not so patiently—until He’s ready for me.

  After what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a few moments, he finally puts down his pen and removes his glasses. Resting them on the desk in front of him, he looks up at me. “What can I do for you, my dear Reaper?” he asks. His voice is soothing, but I resist its effect on my nerves, clinging to my anger like a lifeboat. One I want to use to save Lily.

  “A child?” I demand.

  “Can you be more specific?” he says. “There are lots of children on Earth at the moment.”

  “I know You know who I mean. The newest surprise?”

  “Ah. Yes. That child.”

  Suddenly, my rage turns to sorrow, and I sink down into the armchair in tears. “How can You allow this? I can’t possibly take a child before her time. Don’t you know how devastated her parents will be? They won’t even fully grasp the senselessness of her death. It’s the worst possible crime against humanity, and I’m supposed to perpetrate it?” The tears are flowing freely by now, and God rises from his seat and comes around his desk to kneel in front of me. That takes me aback—God is kneeling in front of me.

  The sheer averageness of his appearance strikes me in that moment. Short, brown hair, brown eyes, a blue button-up shirt, and khaki pants. He looks so totally… well, normal. He could be anyone. And maybe that’s the point. He is everyone.

  He covers my hands with His, and I look into his eyes. They are filled with compassion and pain, as if my tears are His own. “Michaela, my dear. Of course I understand. I feel their pain even more than you do, if you can believe it.” Pulling me from my seat, He leads me to the back of his office. He pushes a spot that looks no different from any other in the white wall, but a hidden door opens, revealing a beautiful garden beyond it.

  There are tall, willowy trees behind rows of short, flowering bushes in colors I’ve never seen on Earth. They are such a contrast to the white office that it’s a bit jarring at first. The trees stretch above us and form a beautiful canopy, and the slight breeze carries the scent of lavender. We walk hand in hand through the garden, not speaking until I can’t stand it anymore.

  “Is this the Garden of Eden?”

  He chuckles a little, but it’s not condescending at all. “No. This place is just for me. The Garden existed only on Earth.”

  I nod, feeling a little stupid, although I know that wasn’t His intention. It’s just so lovely. I know intuitively that this level of beauty exists nowhere else, neither in the heavens, nor on Earth.

  While we are walking, we pass a dark forest. It’s such a contrast to the bright garden that the question is pulled out of me of its own accord. “What’s that?” I nod toward the dark woods.

  “That’s the Forest of Confusion. The humans have many questions. Many injustices they don’t understand. Many things they simply can’t wrap their heads around. Some think I don’t hear their demands for answers, but I do. They make up that forest.”

  “Do You ever go in there? It looks frightening.”

  He’s smiling as he looks down at me. “Dealing with the humans can be scary business, can’t it?” Thinking back on my encounters with the ghosts, I nod.

  He says nothing more on the topic, and we continue our walk through His corner of heaven. I’ve lost all concept of time in this beautiful place. In some ways it feels like I’ve spent my whole life here, walking down the path at my feet, and yet it also feels like only a few moments have passed. Soon, we come upon a creek. We follow it as we walk, and it gradually opens to a river before dumping into a huge ocean.

  “This ocean is made of the tears of my humans. So many tears,” God says, and the sadness in His voice makes me drop to my knees. I sink into the sugary white sand, feeling an overwhelming urge to walk out into the ocean and never surface again. What is the point of so much suffering? The waves from this ocean of tears lap at my knees, and I am powerless to hold them back. In fact, my own tears flow freely, adding to the ocean’s depths.

  “I feel the pain of the humans as if it’s my own,” He says as He looks out across the waters. No land is in sight. All I see is vast, open ocean.

  I feel stupid. Of course He understands. I was ignorant to even suggest He didn’t. How could He not understand what His creations are going through?

  “I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing I can think to say.

  He says nothing. Simply stares out into the ocean.

  “What if I refuse to collect her? She may be spared a worse fate,” I say. The thought of such a young girl being trapped in the prison of souls makes me cringe. But neither can I stomach the thought of her lingering behind to torture not only herself, but also her poor family. “The souls in the prison are dying. Fading away to nothingness. I can’t let that happen to a child.”

  “Diligence,” He says quietly. “You must be diligent. I need you now more than ever, Michaela. I know you can get to the bottom of what’s happening. And I need you to do it so I can hold someone accountable for these crimes. Your fight isn’t over.” He turns away from the ocean of tears and looks at me.

  “Regardless of what you choose to do for Lily, your fight hasn’t even started yet.”

  A chill runs down my spine and I rub my arms, trying to banish it. He reaches out His hand to help me up, and I take it. Together, we walk away from the ocean of tears.

  “Be strong now, Michaela,” he says. “Be the creation I made you to be.” Then everything dissolves away and I am left alone just outside his office, with no concept of how long I was in God’s corner of heaven.

  9

  The transition is so jarring that it steals my breath for a moment. I lean a hand against the nearby wall and take a moment to catch my breath. Never in my entire existence have I seen that kind of beauty. Being back in the heavens seems dull in comparison, even though I know it’s not.

  Be strong now. Be the creation I made you to be. I wasn’t made to be a Reaper. I was made for something more. His words echo in my mind as I try to steel myself for the night ahead. “My fight isn’t over,” I say to myself out loud in the empty hallway. I must rally all my strength and move forward.

  But when I think about everything that must be done, it threatens to overwhelm me. Small bites, I remind myself. Take it in small bites. What’s the first thing that needs to be done? Webber. We have to go back to hell and get Webber.

  Dread fills my stomach until I think it will spill out of my mouth. But instead of shrinking back from this task, I straighten and march toward my quarters where we arranged to meet. It’s the only way I can help ensure a better future, one where this isn’t happening, one where children are no longer in danger of losing their existence.

  They’re waiting for me again in my room. Their expressions tell me they can sense something’s happened.

  Galenia rushes over to me. “What’s wrong?” she asks as she puts her arm around me and ushers me into my room.

  I decide to start at the beginning. “I was attacked by ghosts today,” I state. As if it were no big thing. As if I were
n’t in danger of losing my very existence.

  “You what?” Penn asks, rushing up to me too.

  “The ghosts are piling up on Earth, making my job a bit… challenging.” I smile at Galenia, trying to assure her I’m fine.

  “Is that why you’re late?” Horatia eyes me, as if she instinctually knows there’s more to the story than I’m letting on.

  “Not entirely, no,” I say carefully as I make my way to the couch and sit down.

  I shouldn’t have done it. The weight of the ghosts, of Lily, of the garden and the ocean of tears, of Webber, of… everything presses me down into the cushions. I want to stay there forever.

  “So, why are you late?” Penn asks cautiously as he watches me.

  The tears threaten again as I look at him, but I manage to hold them back. “A new name popped up today. Another surprise.”

  They’re all frowning, and I haven’t even told them the worst of it.

  “Well, we’ll just have to work quickly tonight. Maybe we’ll figure this situation out tonight. If we’re lucky, you won’t have to collect them tomorrow,” Horatia says with confidence, as if she knows without a shadow of a doubt that it’s as simple as that.

  They’re standing around me, ready to take action. As if the human behind the name isn’t important. And to them, it’s not. They don’t know her. I don’t even know her yet.

  “Who is it?” Penn asks reluctantly, his voice heavy with dread.

  “It’s a child.”

  “What?” Galenia asks, clearly shattered by the news. She sinks down into the couch next to me and stares off ahead of us, hands folded neatly in her lap.

  “What about the guards at the weaving room? How did someone get past them?” Penn demands. “Maybe it’s the Weaver…” I can tell his mind is working a thousand miles a minute, searching for a solution, a way out of this mess.

  It’s so difficult to get out the next words, but they need to be said. “I’m supposed to collect her first thing tomorrow.” I look over at Penn, who seems to be filled with a combination of rage and sorrow.