Chapter 1 Nikai #2
Nikai stared too. The feathery soul inside was different, but he didn’t have the words to explain why. It was like looking at a shade of blue and not being able to give
its exact name, only understanding it was different from all other shades of blue.
“Anomalies are rare,” was all Four said.
“Then you should know how important this is,” One said. “I saw the dying star’s spirit trail with my own eyes. I am certain
of what it is. Fate wants this child to live. Why else would the child be here in the jurisdiction of the only King who possesses
the means to intervene?”
One nodded at the black-and-gold watch on Four’s wrist.
Nikai didn’t know much about the timepiece, just that it was a mysterious underworld artifact and that Four always wore it
on his person. The Kings collected such artifacts during their travels, storing them for safekeeping. Four’s watch was said
to have the power to intervene in the sacred and inevitable cycle of life and death.
“You know as well as I do that this artifact is not to be used lightly, for the consequences could be dire. The last time . . .”
Four trailed off, his expression darkening.
The last time? Nikai couldn’t believe his ears. As far as he knew, the watch was never to be used.
“It will not be like the last time,” One assured. “This time, fate has determined the child shall live.”
“I do not trust fate,” Four said, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice.
“Fate binds us, connects us through past, present, and future. Our trust or distrust plays no part. It simply is,” One said.
Four turned to the taxi again. As he stared, Nikai caught a look in his eyes. It was hopeful. It was greedy. It was the look
of someone driven to desperation.
Four blinked and it vanished.
“I will help you,” he said. “The woman can live on borrowed time, but I expect something in return for my labor.”
“Surely you are not proposing a deal between us over a matter decided by fate?” One laughed, but Nikai saw tension in the angles of their shoulders. Deals with the Kings
were not to be taken lightly, especially when they were between each other.
“Not a deal, but if my artifact is to be used, then it is only fair that I be rewarded for my efforts,” Four said in a reasonable
tone.
One relaxed. “What would you like?”
“I heard you recently came into possession of another artifact. I am merely curious to have a look at it.”
“Of course.” One ran a hand over their pendant. A thin willow branch with verdant leaves appeared in their other hand. “I
am still examining its arcane properties, but it seems there is a vast power in this.”
Four took the branch, twirling it between his fingers. “I have some expertise in this area. Perhaps I could examine it back
in our realm?”
There was a beat of hesitation before One said, “Do take good care of it, and if you should discover anything, inform me.
I expect its return to my kingdom in a few days.”
Four slipped the branch carefully into his coat pocket.
Then he touched the face of his watch and closed his eyes.
Silently, Nikai counted the series of chimes that followed.
Five long ones followed by short chirps. Once, twice, thrice. Four times.
Five, four.
Wu, si. A peculiar chime, Nikai thought. The numbers were almost homophonous to no death . . . or my death.
Something in the taxi moved.
Four opened his eyes. “It is done.”
“Good.” One touched their necklace briefly. “Thank you, dear brother. I shall not forget your kindness tonight.” They brushed
Four’s cheek with a gentle hand.
The air shivered, and they were gone.
The crease between Four’s brows returned. Deeper this time.
“Is everything okay?” Nikai asked. “Will you be in trouble for helping—”
“Nikai.”
The Reaper stilled. Something about the way Four had said his name troubled him. It seemed so final.
“Yes, My King?”
There was deep affection in Four’s gaze when he squeezed Nikai’s shoulder.
“Four?” Nikai said, confused.
“I am going to see the stars, my friend.”
The Fourth King turned on his heel and vanished into the dark.
Nikai let out a long breath. The entire situation was out of the ordinary and left a funny feeling in his stomach.
“What was that about?”
He jumped in fright. The new Reaper had snuck up behind him.
“Sorry, sir,” she said, sheepish. “I was just curious. Two Kings appearing—”
“Nothing to be curious about,” Nikai snapped, with more sharpness than he’d intended. “If anything, this is way above your
pay grade. I suggest you keep everything you saw and heard tonight to yourself. Have you finished reading out the death notes?”
The new Reaper looked contrite. “Yes, sir. I’ve an update, sir. It seems two of the humans survived after all.”
“That happens sometimes. Must’ve been a glitch in the system,” Nikai said smoothly, hoping none of the Reapers would guess what had really happened.
The new Reaper’s face brightened. “It was the woman in the taxi and her baby—they’re alive. I have deleted their death notes
according to our protocol.” Nikai kept his expression impassive as she continued, “The other souls we collected are ready
for transportation.”
“Good. Come on then, let’s wrap this up.”
Nikai returned to the souls awaiting their journey to the afterlife. The ambulances had arrived, but the human paramedics
were oblivious to the underworld beings who were working by their side. The souls seemed calm enough, and there was no sign
of the Blight. But it was best to be cautious.
Quickly, Nikai pointed two fingers to the ground. A circular symbol with intricate characters lining its edges appeared, glowing
a pale green.
There were three ways into the underworld: through the Gates, through a portal that tore through the fabric of time and space,
or through soul collection. The first was the most common, and the second was the most dangerous. The third could only be
carried out by a Reaper.
Eyes closed, Nikai prayed for a smooth journey and recited the incantation that would send them all to Hell.
It was much later when Nikai was finally done with his Reaper duties—well, almost done, there were always reports to be filed
and emails to be sent. But that could wait; he needed to see Four. The exchange between the two Kings earlier had left him
out of sorts, and he had questions for his friend.
Nikai expected Four to be in the throne room of the Fourth Court doing what he’d come to think of as King things, such as settling a petty dispute between some souls or listening to the Librarian complain about the lack of resources devoted
to the Archives, but the throne room was empty.
I am going to see the stars, my friend.
Nikai knew exactly where to find his King.
He went outside, whistling jauntily as he climbed the hill to the Garden of Tongues. At midnight on the seventh day of each
month, the Garden hovered between the underworld and the mortal realm for a few precious minutes. You could sit and look up
at the blanket of inky sky above with its pinpricks of scattered light.
Stars. They were the same ones the humans could see.
In all the years Nikai had been a Reaper, Four always came here whenever the worlds were aligned, just to see the stars. Nikai
never understood why the view captivated him so, but there was a melancholy about Four that was loud and pressing when he
was here. Yet it was a hollow sound, dull and empty, like a piece of him was missing.
Nikai checked his watch when he finally got to the top of the hill. Seconds to midnight. Just in time. He entered the Garden,
but the place was deserted. Strange. He had been so certain that he would find his King here.
He glanced around the empty garden again. Where was Four?
A noise behind him made him turn. Someone was scrambling up the hill, footsteps heavy, panting loudly.
It was the new Reaper from earlier.
“Nikai!” she cried, running to him.
“What’s wrong?”
“He—he’s—” The Reaper choked on her words.
Nikai held her shoulders. He could feel her trembling. “Calm down; tell me what’s wrong.”
A sob caught in her throat. “It’s Four . . . he’s gone.”