The Reaping Season

by Sarah Stirling

  When she held out her hand, Viktor closed his eyes and breathed, summoning the feeling of that mysterious, crackling energy that came to him in his darkest times. He felt it rise through him, twisting, surging, stimulating him with the intensity of such power. Opening his eyes, he found his hands engulfed in the tickling sensation of his fire, the hum of that ancient beast bonded to him sparking in his blood, until his whole body sang with it.

  He pressed the tips of his fingers to hers and gasped, overcome with sensation. Suddenly he was flooded with memories, piling on all at once until he buckled under the pressure. He staggered back as they broke into jagged applause, barely hearing the words they spoke as his mind filled to the brim with the remnants of a life that wasn’t his. Viktor remembered Vallnor.

  Viktor remembered being Vallnor.

  *

  “There must be something you can do.”

  Sandson slipped off his spectacles and rubbed at his eyes. “I assure you I am doing all I can but I cannot help that you decided to break into a government facility – a highly secretive research facility – and attempted to break out criminals considered highly dangerous by the military.”

  “Please,” Kilai scoffed, crossing her arms, “you sent Janus in there yourself, did you not? You knew exactly what we were going to do. Do not try and act innocent in it now.”

  “Innocent?” his lips curled. “I would never. However you must understand why I kept Janus under my employ? The truth is there is very little I can achieve behind a desk and I do not mind conceding to it. Trying to extradite prisoners from there would be nigh on impossible, even for me.”

  “So, what? You’re just going to leave them in there to rot? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Shaikuro-wei, perhaps if you feel so strongly about this you might come up with your own solution to this. I’m afraid in this matter my hands are very much tied.” He picked up one of many mugs scattered across his desk and took a drink, grimacing as he put it down again. “I assure you I will do all that I can. Janus is a man who has served me well in the past and I do not forget these things but he did get caught trying to break out Sonlin prisoners.”

  Kilai sighed, raking a hand through her hair. “I’m useless without the three of them. I can’t fight and I don’t understand these strange things… these riftspawn.” Her own helplessness rankled. Kilai knew her strengths and played to them well but there was little she could do about her areas of weakness. The advantages of travelling in their group was that they covered each other’s weaknesses but on her own she was limited to what she could do. The memory of her failures in Nirket sprang to mind, picking at a freshly scabbed cut. Unconsciously her fingers latched onto her turtle pin, relaxing a little under the familiar edges of the shell and fins. “Without them I’m not any use, am I?”

  Sandson propped his chin in his hand, eyes raking over her in a way that threatened to rip the wound right open. “I suspect that isn’t true, or I doubt I would have heard your name spoken from across the sea. The young woman who took up her father’s footsteps as governor of an entire island should know more than anyone that she is fully capable of anything she sets her mind to.”

  Kilai snorted. “Are your platitudes in the hope that I will do your work for you? What happens if I get myself arrested too?”

  He flashed a row of white teeth. “You will have to figure out a way to escape a cell then, won’t you?”

  She paused, remembering. Rook and Viktor had once broken themselves out of the jail cells belonging to the governor’s office, not so long ago. She didn’t entirely understand how they had done it but she knew Rook’s abilities had been involved, apparently able to smash down a heavy wooden door on her own. The iron lock had shown no signs of tampering and when Kilai had asked her about it, she had launched into some explanation about riftspawn and melding that had been beyond her understanding, but she had done it all the same. There was no reason why she couldn’t do it again surely? Especially if she had Viktor and Janus with her. But if she hadn’t done it yet then perhaps there was a problem with her connection to the rift. Kilai wanted to groan, closing her eyes as she rubbed at her temples. If they made it out of this she was going to study these rifts and attempt to understand them.

  “There may be something you can try,” ventured Sandson.

  “I’m listening.”

  “The other man in the cells was taken in by a man and a woman. If my informant is correct, they may in fact be Riftkeepers from the rift in the mountains east of here. Perhaps they may be able to shed some light on the situation.”

  Kilai considered. Chances were they wouldn’t be able to help even if they were Riftkeepers. But Rook had adamantly insisted on defending the Order, determined to chase them down all the way to Tsellyr just to speak with them, so if there were two in the city then perhaps they would be able to help in some way, if only to explain just what was going on. Trying would certainly be more productive than wearing a hole in Sandson’s ornate rug with her frenzied pacing, no matter how much the thought appeased her. At the very least it would burn off the restless energy simmering inside of her.

  “I assume your informant also gave the name of the place where I might find these Riftkeepers?”

  “Ah,” he said, smiling as he reached into the top drawer of his desk, “how convenient that they did.” Handing over a folded sheet of paper, he raked his eyes over her once more. “Do be careful, Shaikuro-wei. These are troubling times for us all. Now more than ever do we need to keep our alliances strong.”

  She threw him a withering look. “Hm, I’ll consider it. Maybe. If we can reach an agreement on your intentions regarding Viktor then I might feel more inclined to stop my mouth from wandering.”

  He barked a laugh, unfolding his round spectacles and pushing them back up his nose. “I promise I intend him no harm. Will that suffice?”

  “Intentions are sweet things, Sandson-shai, but they are weighed as worthless against the might of the resolution, are they not?”

  His lips quirked. “Visit the Riftkeepers. Rescue your friends. We shall talk then.”

  The knowledge of the ticking clock made her retreat, albeit with reluctance. Happily she could have argued with Sandson all day but there were matters to be dealt with first. That could wait until later. Tucking the paper into her pocket, she squared her shoulders and nodded at him. “We will talk soon.”

  “Yes, I’m sure we will.”

  With that she was off, to attempt to save her friends in any way she could.

  *

  It took a few heavy blinks before Janus struggled to the surface of consciousness. He was in a room – the room he and Rook had been in before – but now strapped down. His limbs struggled against the bonds, metal framing of the bed squeaking as he battled the entrapments. As much as he had fought back, there was little he could do one against many, and eventually he had been outnumbered, knocked out only to be brought back to this room. With a sinking feeling deep in his stomach, he suspected he knew why.

  Project Bluestone. It was supposed to be a dead project. A failure. But clearly the military had not in fact given up on it as they had claimed, instead nurturing the programme into a rebirth, the scope of which he could not predict. He groaned as he felt the pain burrow into the base of his skull, wondering if they knew about him and his involvement. It seemed unlikely, otherwise he was certain they would have killed him by now. Although curiosity could certainly inspire irrational behaviour. It may have been just the thing to save him, if this young scientist desired to know more about the reasons for the failure of the original.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake.” He turned his head to see Rook on the bed next to him, also strapped down. Dried blood trailed from both her nostrils and eyes. “I was getting worried there. They say too many knocks to the head aren’t good for you, you know.”

  “You are all right?”

  “Mm. As well as can be, I suppose. And you? Quite the nasty bruise you have there.”


  “Fine,” he replied, unsure to which area she was referring. Pain throbbed everywhere and it was hardly a new sensation. By now he was sure he looked a decade older than he really was, for time seemed determined to age him beyond his years. “As well as can be,” he added with a small smile.

  “They took my damned blades again. Why do people always insist on taking them from me?” Her fingers twitched by her sides as if imagining them in her grip.

  “I believe they suppose you to be dangerous with them.”

  “I mean they’re not wrong but...”

  “They hardly matter?”

  “Normally I would agree with you but –” she paused, sniffing and then frowning “– there’s something off about this place. The energy is awful. It’s messing with my senses a bit.”

  “Can you fight out of this?”

  She blinked heavily, eyes taking a moment to refocus on him. “I can try.” She closed her eyes and seemed to murmur something to herself, lips moving even if he could not make out the words she spoke. Her fists clenched at her side, voice rising in a babble of indecipherable content until her whole body shook with the force of it. A hiss, shaking her head. Eyes flying open, they were so round he could see the whites of her eyes shining around pale irises.

  “My connection to The Rook is fading in and out. It’s like I can’t keep hold of it.”

  He sighed, resigning himself to the truth of the situation. Whatever creature had been trapped down here, it was able to suppress otherworldly activity, blocking her ability to share her riftspawn’s abilities. Janus would simply have to do this the old-fashioned way. There was still a knife stashed in his boot that he could feel when he wriggled his foot. They hadn’t taken it because they believed the bonds to be enough on him. Fools. Clearly they were yet to discover who Janus really was.

  “What in the Locker are you doing?” said Rook.

  “Getting us out of here.” He couldn’t let them stay here. He couldn’t let Rook stay here.

  Rubbing his leg against the bonds in just the right way pushed the knife further up his boot until it was in his trousers. From there it was more difficult to push it any further, involving a shimmying dance that inched it closer at such a slow pace it was agonising. Time weighed upon his shoulders, pressuring him with the knowledge that he could not squander it. By the time it had reached his hip his wrists and neck were raw from chafing but he pushed past the pain to skim his fingers over the leather cover, gritting his teeth. Janus had long, bony fingers but he cursed them for not being long enough, skipping over the material until finally, mercifully, he caught a grip and managed to haul it towards himself.

  Flicking off the button of the cover with his thumb, the steel flashed in the light hanging from the ceiling as he flicked the blade around and began to slice through the thick material of the bonds. It was difficult at the awkward angle, the leather cutting off his circulation, but with perseverance he managed to saw through the last threads until his wrist snapped free, skin pink and sore. Quickly he got to work on the rest until he could sit up and slice open the multiple restraints on his legs.

  “I have no idea how you did that. Do you have knives everywhere?”

  “Yes.”

  She grinned, straining past the strap around her neck. “Well, come on then. Get to it.”

  By the time he had cut through most of her restraints Janus had managed to suppress most of the memories that kept resurfacing like monsters lurking in the deep. They threatened to distract him and he couldn’t afford distractions. Not when getting caught could mean unspeakable things for both of them. Not when he had failed to save the others. He still had a chance now. He could save the two of them.

  Rubbing at the pink welts around her wrist, Rook peered into his face. “Are you all right? You’re looking a little pasty. More than normal, I mean.”

  “Need to leave this place. Now.”

  “I agree with you. But my blades. I can’t leave without –”

  “Might need to.”

  She bit her lip. “Why are you so afraid?”

  He was already halfway to the door, trying to remember the layout of the building above them and decipher which was the best way to get them out without being caught. A hand latched onto his arm and yanked him back until he was face to face with Rook, her eyes flickering over every inch of his face as if it was the map to his deepest inner thoughts. Maybe it was.

  “I’ve never seen you look so shaken before.”

  He licked his cracked lips, not knowing how to explain. His shame silenced him. Janus had failed and like a coward he had run. There was no more about it to say. But the challenge in her eyes and the unhappy twist to her lips triggered the tide of memories he had dammed off for so long and he found himself swept away by the force of it. She could have been any one of them, asking the same things as she was now.

  “What aren’t you telling me? What do you know?”

  She could be any one of them, lying cold in an empty room. Pale and glassy eyed and imprinted on his eyelids forever more.

  “Not now.”

  He grasped her wrist and pried her hand from his arm when he heard a noise. A door closing and then footsteps echoing in the corridor beyond. Turning her around, Janus prodded Rook between the shoulder blades and urged her on. “No time. Go, now!”

  They managed a step before he heard the familiar sound of a pistol cocked behind him and then a voice with the softest trace of an accent – from the mountains, if his ear told him true – saying, “You’re resourceful. I’ll give you that.”

  Slowly, palms raised, Janus span to face the young scientist. “Was trained well.”

  “Oh, yes. I do believe so.” He pushed his wire-framed spectacles up a skinny nose. “It took me a while to figure it out but I think I know who you are now. You must be the illustrious Mr Lakazaar. Am I wrong?”

  Janus tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Not hard to figure out. I’m pretty known about these parts.”

  “Mm, but it’s not just here, is it? If anyone would know about what’s beginning here, it would be you, wouldn’t it?”

  “Would I? Don’t know what you’re attempting here.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Rook’s gaze batted between them. “What is going on? I don’t understand.”

  “I was born in Ten Bahl, you know. Not far from that little town in the Bluestone mountains. I heard the stories. People used to report seeing such ridiculous things that I never really believed and was always quick to dismiss them. But I’ll confess the lingering curiosity never left me. I wanted to know about these people with extraordinary abilities and why they could do what they could do. To think I’d finally meet you here, Janus. Well, it really brings things full circle, don’t you think?”

  “You might know my name,” Janus replied, “but don’t know you.”

  The man huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I suppose you wouldn’t. After all, I never officially joined the military until after you deserted. By then you were nothing but a ghost; a name mentioned in passing as someone to be scorned for cowardice, soon to be forgotten when they buried the project.”

  Janus didn’t know what to say. He didn’t really know what this man wanted, specifically. A manic enthusiast of Project Bluestone he may have been but if he idolised him in anyway then he was sadly mistaken. It wasn’t like Janus had ever been in control of anything back then. He’d been sucked into a turbulent eddy and dragged under until he could see the surface no longer. Until he’d willingly drowned his old self and let himself be reborn on an island across the sea, a distant mercenary who would do anything for coin.

  “Why now? Why here?” he said, aware of the barrel pointed at his chest. The clock had stopped but he could still try to find a way out. “They called it failure.”

  “Yes, that particular project was a failure. Yet what does a scientist do but learn from their mistakes? And where else but where the rifts seem to be at their strongest? Long ago priests and priestess
es studied these gateways in their rudimentary ways, worshipping the mystical creatures beyond. But it need not be as mystical as that. Just think what we could do, if we could control these powers.”

  Rook looked alarmed, eyes boring into him. “You want to use the bond as a means of creating soldiers? Are you witless? Do you know how unpredictable that is? How many people die?”

  The man cocked his head, glasses shining in the light. “I think your companion here would know more about that than me.”

  She jerked her head to Janus. “Janus? What does he mean?”

  “Can’t explain right now.” He kept his eyes on the scientist, tensed and ready. The longer they stayed down there the more his uneasiness grew, fingers twitching on instinct. The knife was resting in the sleeve of his other hand. “Are you ready?” he murmured, not once looking at her.

  Out of the corner of his eye she stiffened. The scientist frowned, confused. He would have to make a move now or risk the consequences of trapping them both down here, the first test subjects in an experiment he had seen fall apart too many times to know how it would go this time around. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the knife to Rook and slid down to his knees at the same time, tackling the scientist as the gun went off in an explosion of smoke and a thunderous boom. Janus pinned him to the ground as Rook stood over them, knife glinting above.

  “Guards!” yelled the scientist with a breathy gasp, before Janus could slap his hand over his mouth. His blue eyes bulged wide behind his wonky spectacles as he held him down, pressure tight enough to hurt.

  The door burst open and two men in uniforms poured in. Rook was already whirling towards them, hair streaming around her as she met the first blow for blow, ducking and weaving and parrying with nothing but a small knife to deflect the man’s sword. The scientist jostled and distracted him for a moment, attempting to scratch at him with his nails. Janus dug his own grip tighter, one hand coming around his neck to press on his airway.