by Carmen Fox
Excited murmurs and repeated utterances of “hear, hear!” buzzed across the room.
Something big was up. Had the Council dispatched my father to take care of a rogue agent? That would explain a lot, except why he hadn’t told me.
The man in white banged his gavel. “Unless we are presented with a credible explanation by tonight, I will send the first division to hunt the traitor and his Shadow friends down so we may restore world order. Within twenty-four hours, the Grim Reaper and his accomplices shall be brought before you to answer for their crimes—dead or alive.”
Wait. What?
I slowly rose to my feet, battling a chill beating against my spine. They were so far off the mark, it wasn’t even funny. My dad a traitor? Never. Didn’t they get that he was missing? That something could’ve happened to him?
I took a deep breath to prepare for my first ever words before the Council.
Darkness fell over me. A swirling cold that invaded every part of me mingled with the scent of death. When the first beams of light struck my optical nerves, I was sitting on my sofa at home. Maximus Remo stood in front of me, hands behind his back, his dead eyes more alive than I’d seen them before.
“What the hell?” I wiped the back of my hand over my face.
“You promised you would not tell the Council about me.” The rolling softness of his tone ran roughshod over my nerves.
He was dangerous. I got it already.
“I wasn’t going to.” I glared.
“Is it a coincidence you visited the Council one day after finding where I live?”
“The world doesn’t revolve around you. Why are you following me anyway?” I pushed to get up, but lacked the strength.
My journeys through the Twilight when I dissipated could be upsetting, but they didn’t leave me roiling. I patted my stomach to calm it. Whatever method Remo had used to transport me home didn’t agree with me.
His posture stiffened. “I was there on business.”
“You quit the Council. Don’t lie to me.”
“I didn’t say the Council knows of my business.” His bizarre grin was back. It probably scared the bejesus out of ordinary folk, but not me. Sure, it made my heart beat faster, but not from fear.
If he hadn’t followed me, was it possible we’d both attended the meeting to gather information?
“What do you know about death, or rather, why souls are not being reaped?” I kept my voice casual.
“The Council blames the Reaper.”
“The Council also blames the Shadows.”
He placed his hands on either side of me, forcing me against the back of the sofa. “Lies. More lies.”
“Their lies.” My tone became more subdued now. “Not mine.”
He walked across the rug that covered part of my hardwood floor. “I will prove our innocence.”
“The Reaper has nothing to do with this either.” I stared at my fists in my lap. “I know he doesn’t. If he’s not reaping, he must have a reason.”
He turned his gaze on me. “What are you to the Reaper?”
If he’d spoken the truth about his fellow Shadow Walkers, we were in the same boat.
I cleared my throat for the announcement. “I’m his daughter.”
Remo whistled. “That’s why you don’t want the Council to know about you.”
“Actually, that was Dad’s idea.”
He shot me a dead stare. “He cares about you. Believe me, he’s the only one. In the Council’s eyes, you’re an abomination. Their prisons are full of creatures like you and us.”
“Why would I be an abomination?” I stood to give weight to my words. “I’m not dangerous or anything.”
“Of course you are. You have power over death, same as your father. Same as my kind. The Council tried to snip our powers like they did your father’s.” He made a cutting motion with his fingers. “But we quit before they called up the big magic and forced us into impotence.”
“My dad still has his powers.”
“You’re wrong. My father told me of the old Reaper in the early days. The vengeance he carried out when his parents were killed. The ruthlessness with which he treated his enemies.”
I crossed my arms. “No idea who you’re talking about. My father’s a good man.”
“Not a man.” Remo tilted his head. “But he may be good. That isn’t of value to the Council. Power is their currency. They give your father a choice. Be hunted or give up his powers and do the Council’s bidding. Under their watch. This is the path he walks now.”
“Either way, he has a good reason he’s not reaping, and I’ll prove it. As soon as I find him.” I eyed him with a deliberate challenge. “Is this going to be a pissing match with you getting in my way, or are we going to work together?”
Remo tilted his head back and let out a long, throaty laugh.
I was hilarious when I wanted to be, sure, but nothing I said had been that funny.
He looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Why should I work with you? You’re a—”
“I’m a what? Not experienced enough as a Reaper? I don’t care. We’re talking about my father.”
“Of course. I didn’t—”
“Oh. You meant because I’m a woman, didn’t you?”
He glanced at the floor. “I didn’t say that.”
He didn’t have to. “Fine, I’m a woman. And you’re a jerk, but I’m not holding that against you.”
“You think you can help? Why?”
“You’re not getting it.” I stepped into his range, a dangerous place for sure, but he had to understand that I was no precious flower. “I’m going to Bohari to see what happened to my father. If you think you can help, come along. Up to you.”
He moved his arms as if to grab me, but I dissipated on the spot.
CHAPTER FIVE
The fog in the Twilight hung heavier today, laden with the stench of grief and death. I spent a few seconds getting my bearings then followed Dad’s tracks, which were easy to read.
Remo could do his own investigation for all I cared. I’d find Dad with or without his help. If only I had a clue. Was Remo wrong, and his Shadow Walkers had trapped my father to prevent him from doing his job? What motivation could they have? Guiding souls into the Glory for their final rest was a tough gig, because the Glory was the most secure place in existence. Not even Shadow Walkers, for all their tricks, could wrangle an invite, yet Dad opened its gates every day. Were they after his secrets in a bid for more power?
Still, it was hard to see anyone being brave enough to take him on.
Dad’s track ended, and I focalized in an area flooded with light. It was so bright, I closed my eyes for a second to acclimatize.
“Where is this place?” Remo’s voice was as welcome as it was annoying.
It meant I wasn’t on my own, but it also meant I’d have to put up with him a while longer.
I breathed in the dry air, which was hot enough to sting my nose and airways. “Go away, Remo.”
“Call me Max. And I say we get out of the sun.” He tugged on my collar.
I opened my eyes. As if through a filter, thorny bushes and dusty orange ground materialized before me. I was in Africa. Or Australia.
Succulent shrubs and trees stood guard around us in one direction, blurred in the hazy sunshine. Next to us, the reddish wall of a huge rock formation loomed, but offered no shade, at least not on this side. The formation had been carved by wind into the shape of a dragon, approximately the size of a tennis court and as high as a house.
No roads stretched anywhere on the horizon. No towns in ruins or ash. Where were the wounded my dad had come to help?
“What do we do now?” Remo rode the stereotypical bad-boy dress code, clothed as he was from head to toe in tight-fitting black. In these temperatures, he might come to regret it.
“You tell me. You followed me here.” I tied my hair into a ponytail to ease the weight of the smothering heat. “How did you do that anyway?”
“I traveled as your shadow. Invisible to your eyes.”
Cheat. While I was doing the hard work, he was riding piggyback.
“You look tired, woman.” He studied me.
“Dabria. My name is Dabria. Or Dab. Not woman.” I wiped sweat off my forehead. “And traveling inside the Twilight is hard work, just so you know.”
“What is it, the Twilight? I have heard of it, of course, but as your shadow, I did not see.”
“It’s where I go when I dissipate, and frankly, there’s not much to see. Ever been to a rock concert with a fog machine?” I shook my head. “Of course you haven’t. Well, it’s like the fog from a load of dry ice.”
“Why?”
What a crappy time to get into para-existentialism. Normally, I wouldn’t have indulged him. But why not prod him a little?
I grinned. “Oh, Max. How is it possible that I, a mere woman, know something you, a man, don’t?”
“You think you are a smartypant? I am not as backwards as you think.” Yet, he crossed his arms, which was satisfying enough.
“Fine.” But only because the way he’d said smartypant was so cute, in his thick foreign accent, it had made my ovaries contract. “The Twilight is where ghosts go to die. If dead people get trapped inside their bodies, the Reaper physically yanks out their soul and takes them through the Twilight into the Glory. If they refuse to go, they get stuck on Earth or in the Twilight. At first, they keep their core and essence together—you know, as ghosts. But, after a while, their essence spreads farther from their core. Soon, the two separate and the essence simply drifts as an empty mass.”
He rubbed his chin. “Without the core, the essence becomes the fog?”
“Yep. In other words, every time I dissipate, I travel through people goo.”
“Shadow Walkers move through the Darkness, hidden as the shadows of people or objects. People are easier, because they walk and I rest. The Darkness is not goo. It just is.” He tilted his head to the side. “Your way...it does not sound pleasant.”
Good thing I didn’t have a jealous gene in my body. “Only one of the reasons I wouldn’t describe what I do as glamorous.”
“No. It is not.”
Jackass.
“Why are we here?” He gestured to encompass the area. “Your Reaper father, where is he?”
“Dunno. This is where his trail ended.” I held my hand against my forehead to shield my gaze. “It’s weird, because I see no dying people. No sign of terrorism. No bomb damage. He’s usually very accurate in his journeys.”
“What is that?” Max pointed his chin at a small, dark figure.
A little boy with huge eyes ran closer then slowed to a more hesitant pace, and finally stopped about fifteen feet from us.
I waved. “Hi.”
He couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old.
I stepped toward him, and he retreated.
“Don’t run.” I stopped moving, and so did he.
Max and I had to make a strange sight out here in the middle of nowhere. At least I was appropriately dressed in simple jeans and a summery top.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
The boy scratched his dark, flawless cheek and shot me a cute grin that softened even my hard insides.
“We must go. The Council will send the army tonight.” Max nudged me. “We must find our comrades.”
“Maybe the boy can tell us where the killings took place, because that’s where my dad would’ve gone.”
“We must not interfere in local affairs.”
“I’m not interfering. Just asking directions.” I turned back to the still grinning boy. “Can you tell me where the dying people are?”
His smile vanished. It had been such a beautiful, genuine smile, too. He lifted his arm and pointed behind him.
I glanced up. Not even the outline of a town was visible against the hazy blue sky. But was something moving in the distance? No, not something—someone.
“These are not dying men. They are killing men.” Max’s voice was firm. “We must find safety.”
What could those men do to us? If my father’s tales were true, Max could kill them in the blink of an eye. Maybe even literally.
“Now.” Max dragged me with him by the sleeve.
The boy’s mouth twisted down while his gaze darted from left to right. He might not have trusted me yet, but we had to look a lot safer than the men who were now running in our direction. Even at a distance, the outlines of weapons were unmistakable.
One guy yelled and pointed in our direction.
The boy ran past us.
Max and I followed him around the rock formation to the other side, yet aside from a few trees and high, sparse grass, no hiding spots presented themselves.
“Here.” Max yanked me against his side, his back tight against the rock.
I held my hand out to the boy. “Come on.”
He hesitated for only a second before joining us.
We huddled into a crag’s shadow by a couple of bushes and pulled their branches in front of us.
“What are you doing?” Max gestured at the boy. “No interference, I said.”
“I’m not leaving him out here to be killed or kidnapped.” I placed my arms around the kid. “Do you think this is enough to hide us?”
Max’s gaze connected with mine, and a cool blackness enveloped me, as it had done when he’d transported me before.
The boy yelped and pushed away from my grip, but I held tight. Max’s darkness took my sight and even kept me cool, but more importantly, it would keep us safe.
Voices in a language I didn’t know approached. Hard, guttural syllables alternated with soft consonants. Dad had urged me many times to learn the languages of the world, but I’d stopped after four, once it had sunk in I’d never be a Reaper myself. The men’s shuffled steps approached and went away then came back, mixed with shouts, followed by quiet conversation. No matter if they were victims or terrorists, what could possibly motivate them to come after a boy? Or was it us they hoped to capture? We were newcomers to this region, so a healthy amount of suspicion was natural.
If I’d learned their language, I could have reassured them we meant no harm. Even so, this was the better way. We should limit our contact with locals, as Max had said. Dad kept hammering this into me, too. Reaping souls put us on a different level from humans, and it was best not to mingle with them while on the job.
I took deep breaths, but the air was too dry and still to carry any scents. This just about qualified as the creepiest experience I’d ever had.
A shout inches from my ear caused the boy to cling to my waist. I stroked his hair, yet he continued to tremble in my arms.
The men gathered in front of us, so close I could hear the breaths between their words.
The kid’s fingers burrowed into my flesh, and I swayed him in my arms to calm him.
Finally, the men left.
Max kept us inside the darkness for another five or six minutes then the light returned to my vision, and the heat to my skin. At first, the brightness blinded me, but patch by patch, shapes fell back into focus.
The boy tore himself free and ran off.
“Come back here!” I shouted, and leaped after him.
A boy his age wouldn’t be able to defend himself alone out here.
His short legs carried him farther around the rock, but I was hot on his heels. Too many people stood on the brink of death in this wretched country today, and one way or another, I’d see the boy to safety.
“Ah.” A man dressed in camouflage stepped out from behind a grouping of trees. His face was as dark as the kid’s but held none of its innocence.
“Watch out!” I yelled.
The boy halted then twisted and ran back.
I lunged toward him, but the man wrapped his hand around the kid’s neck, a large knife sticking out from his fist.
I stopped moving and held my breath.
The boy squirmed for a second then
stood paralyzed. His little face froze. Only the twitch of his lips gave any idea of how close he was to crying.
“No. Don’t hurt him.” I raised my arms. My stomach grew heavy, and a cold sweat seized my back. “Please. He’s only a boy.”
Four more men, also dressed in military gear and sporting rifles, stepped out from behind the trees. One pointed his weapon at me and spoke in a rough tone.
“I don’t understand.” I gave him a desperate smile. “But, look, we’ll go. You don’t have to worry about us. Please, just let the boy go.” I lowered my right hand and gestured the kid toward me. “Come on. Don’t be afraid. They’re not going to hurt you.”
We were no threat to them. Their wars weren’t my wars, and the child certainly hadn’t hurt them.
The first man loosened his grip, and the kid broke forward.
Thank God.
In one quick motion, the man tore the blade across the boy’s neck. In a gurgle of red, his small body fell to the ground.
The men laughed.
A pressure pushed against my ears, and my vision blurred as the world around me pivoted. Only Max’s sudden presence against my back stopped me from falling.
The boy’s tiny hands fidgeted, his thin legs flapped before laying still.
“No.” I reached behind me for Max’s solid form. “Please. No.”
The men circled us, egging each other on with gruff voices. Max dragged me away with him, back toward the rock.
A quiet moan from the boy’s body punched my heart. Maybe he was okay. If I could stem the flow of blood, he might recover. Today was a day for miracles. The news had been full of it.
But not for him. I sensed his end, and it was agonizing. The hands of death drifted over him and burned him, making the scariest moment of his life a period of unspeakable pain and fear. The Grim Reaper should have been here to save his young soul from such torture, yet all the boy had was me. I reached for the Twilight, ready to focalize by his side, to comfort and hold him so he wouldn’t be so afraid.
Instead, darkness fell over me like a heavy blanket.
CHAPTER SIX
