6. Raven
“So…”
The husky word vibrated through me, and I startled, a tiny squawk escaping my lips.
Not only had I not expected Chace’s approach, but he stood closer than anticipated.
His expression morphed as he dropped onto the bench across from me, positioning himself on the seat’s edge, his body facing me, and legs sprawled in the aisle.
His usual arrogance gave way to…what? Confusion? Surprise?
I could relate. Although, I suspected for a different reason.
Yanking my hand free from my bag, and sensing my eyes had blown a tad too wide, I schooled my features.
Damn him for catching me unaware. With casual yet swift movements, I shoved my bag against the window, out of his line of sight.
My body became a barrier between him and my things. My secret contraband.
His gaze followed my actions, a barely there smile tugging at the edge of his lips.
And… his usual arrogant self reemerged.
I pinned him with a hard stare, my brow pinching. I could only imagine his current thoughts, given the direction of his attention. But whatever they were, they would not come to fruition if they involved rifling through my belongings.
His gaze dipped to my finger, then jumped back to my face, an unusual glimmer brightening his eyes for a split second. My trust in his thoughts plummeted even farther.
Scratching the back of his neck, he released a long breath. “Did your folks happen to tell you anything that Aldine may have failed to mention in his weak task overview?”
My gut thrummed. Should I trust and share or remain silent?
Raising one leg, I rested my foot on the seat and wrapped my arms around my bent knee. I weaved my fingers, clenching the hold, one thumb tapping-tapping-tapping against the other. “Not really. No. How about you? Your family tell you anything?”
“Nah.” He shrugged, and I could have sworn he struggled to hold back a grin. “Wish they’d had something, but I guess we’ll just have to figure it out on the job.”
“Hopefully that works out.” My voice sounded soft, likely distant, as my thoughts shifted over all the possibilities that might await us.
Knowing what little I did, I couldn’t help but fear we’d hopped onto a fast tumble ride into Hades.
No souls collected in a hundred years, reapers sent and not returning, the chance of my electronic communicator not functioning…
thus no calling anyone for help, and me and Chace being singled out, forced to work together.
But, sure, we’d figure everything out on the job.
I nodded, rather absentmindedly, and glanced at Mr. Aldine’s sleeping form at the front of the car.
I could do the same, nap during the ride, and delay dealing with my new, dark reality for a little while longer. That idea held particular appeal.
With a sigh on my lips, I turned back to Chace’s awaiting gaze. “I’m going to try and catch a few Zs. Just in case we don’t get another opportunity anytime soon.”
His gaze coasted over my face, appearing to linger a tad too long on my cheeks, my lips. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Humming my agreement, I twisted away from him and molded my bag into a makeshift pillow as Chace stood and turned to leave. Only, he didn’t walk away.
Instead, he swiveled back to me. “I realize we don’t really know each other all that well, and we haven’t been the most tolerant toward one another—family feud and all.
But I hope we can get along, work together, and come through this task in one”—he flipped his hand toward me, then motioned to Aldine—“two…maybe three solid pieces.”
“That would be good.” I shifted in my seat and weighed the possibility of us getting along versus repeating some version of the shark tank incident.
Yeah, this task of a reap was going to be a challenge in more ways than one.
“Well, I’m gonna…” I tilted my head toward my bag, set to double as a pillow.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry.” His shoulders dropped, then he turned and walked back to his seat.
Reaping gods. How long did I have to work in close proximity to him?
If we lived past this day and somehow managed to get inside the citadel…
I didn’t want to think about it.
Exhaling a heavy breath, I leaned back against the seat, closed my eyes, and promptly fell asleep. Slipped into the blessed darkness of a too-short serenity.
Bang.
I snapped wide awake.
What was that? How long had I been out?
At the front of the car, Mr. Aldine pressed his face against the window and gawked at the landscape beyond.
Bam.
The train car rocked, and I bolted upright, leapt to the window.
Metal groaned all around us as the train shook and trembled from side to side. Beyond the windows, the cover of night attempted to slide into place, painting the landscape in gray. And within all that gray, shadows flashed and sounds flapped.
The flap, flap, flap of enormous dark wings.
The quiet words of the train conductor on the departing platform jumped to the forefront of my mind. Danger guards the path.
Shhhriek.
I jolted, more out of surprise than anything else.
Screams, monstrous and ear-shattering, reverberated through my bones and quickened my pulse into a frenzy. A rude awakening, for sure, but one quick to pull me from my previously groggy state.
And then I saw them through the window.
Flying monsters.
What in the reaping hell?
Flying creatures attacked the outside of the train.
Where had they come from? No one had said anything about the presence of monsters. Much less, the kind that fly.
To the sides of the train stretched an endless open land sheeted in stagnant water. Ahead, craggy peaks rose skyward, and from there, the winged creatures came.
I pressed my hands to the glass. Energy dwelled in all things. Therefore, a reaper or transition guide existed for every type of creature, no matter how small, ginormous, or dangerous. So, what of these things?
Could we reap them? Lead them to the afterworld? Their next life? Should I even try without their names on a collection list?
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Aldine called from the front of the car, a hint of wobble in his delivery. “These creatures are not unexpected. I came prepared.”
He ripped open his bag and started pulling items free—dropping one and fumbling with a few others.
If Mr. Aldine had known, why hadn’t he given us a heads-up?
Yeah… I didn’t appreciate that…at all.
No wonder the train conductor refused to take us.
Holding on to the top of the seats to steady himself against the car’s unsteady rocking, Chace made his way past me toward Mr. Aldine. “Hope you brought a crossbow or a flamethrower. Unless, of course, you’re planning on reaping the winged beasts.”
Our elder held up a circular item, one unlike anything I’d seen in our combat training. “We shouldn’t need to resort to fire. Now shield your eyes.”
He tossed the item out the open window, and―after a count of eight―a brilliant blaze of light exploded wide, overlayed with a zigzag of electric fizz. The creatures closest to the side of the train howled and fled from sight.
Chace extended an open hand. “Can I have a few of those?”
A tingle crawled down my spine and settled, heavily and erratically, in my belly. “We’re guides to the afterlife. We’re not supposed to determine when or how such deaths will occur.”
“The flashes are nothing more than a deterrent.” Mr. Aldine wiped the sweat from his brow and then tossed another circular item out the window. The throw lacked height, but a burst of light followed nonetheless. “It won’t kill or even hurt them.”
“How come we’ve never worked with these tools or this scenario in training?” I asked.
The light from the detonation vanished over the landscape.
“Because these tools are only useful here. And this location is not part of the regular training curriculum.” Mr. Aldine coughed a laugh. “That might need to change.”
One of the monsters slammed against the window at my side. I jumped back.
Its fleshy underbelly flattened against the side of the train, only I didn’t see something terrifying.
A face stared at me. The monster’s face. A face almost recognizable as humanoid in features and expressions—not anger or madness, but confusion, fear, and sadness.
I jabbed a finger at the window just as the creature slipped from view. “Did you see that?”
“One of them hit the window.” Chace moved into a position across the aisle from me. He smiled, mockingly, and glanced over me, his attention lingering on my hair. Hints of humor danced in his eyes. “Did it scare you?”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I fought the urge to kick him in the teeth…or the shin.
I nonchalantly smoothed my hair back from my face.
I’d clearly slept longer…and rougher…than I had expected. Too many strands had escaped my ponytail and now likely looked like a frizzy mess framing my face. Bedhead was not my friend. I quickly tugged the hairs back into place, trapping them with the restraining band.
He shrugged and looked away. Mr. Aldine shook his head, implying he, too, had seen nothing. Both of them tossed flash bombs out the window. Were they too busy acting out of fear that they couldn’t see what I’d observed in the creatures? Maybe I, alone, had my eyes truly open.
Only…
Were my eyes open? Or was I projecting?
The metal of the train banged and popped. Outside, the flying things screeched and tore at our transport.
Mr. Aldine dashed down the aisle and, in a clumsy exchange, handed me several flash bombs. They tumbled from his moist palms into my hold, even though I didn’t want them. Hadn’t asked for them. I didn’t believe an attack was the right course of action.
I pointed again, directing Mr. Aldine’s attention to the window once more. “But…there was a face on the creature. An almost sad face.”
Mr. Aldine returned to his position at the front of the car. “Don’t be lured in by a sympathetic emotion. Sad or not, if we don’t clear these things, they’ll be all over us when we get to the station.”
My father’s words surfaced at the forefront of my mind. Emotion will only cloud your thoughts.
Were my thoughts clouded by the emotion I perceived in the creature’s expression? Or were the thoughts of my teammates clouded by fear?
Father’s wisdom had never seemed more unhelpful.
Holding one of the circular light bombs lightly in my grasp, I turned it and inspected it from every angle. Countless tiny holes peppered the surface around a thumbprint-sized toggle.
My father did tell me not to take any chances. Self-preservation first.
“Deter, not harm or kill,” I mumbled and, with hesitation, pressed the thumb-sized switch. Tossed the piece out the window.
Eight seconds later, a blanket of electrical charge and a massive burst of light illuminated my field of view. I jerked my arm upward, shielding my face from the radiance.
The train’s whistle sounded twice, and the car began to slow.
I blinked several times in an attempt to reset my vision. “What’s happening?”
The train slowed and slowed some more.
Please don’t stop here. Anywhere but here.
The last place I wanted to get stranded was in the middle of monster chaos.
“We’re approaching our destination,” Mr. Aldine replied and held up a flash bomb. “The Royal Citadel of Veritas is mere minutes away, so toss your flash bombs at the creatures. Let’s try to clear the skies before we pull into the station.”
“On it.” Chace motioned to me with directional waves of his hands in an attempt to guide me to the rear of the car and better organize our efforts.
His helpful effort, a simple thing, shouldn’t have irritated me, but it did.
Who is he to tell me what to do?
With my nostrils flared and my ears burning, I turned to Mr. Aldine, a flash bomb held high. “You promise these things won’t hurt them?”
I didn’t want to disembark with those creatures all around and ready to swarm us. But I also didn’t want to end up responsible for any unnecessary damage to a life.
“I promise. They’re safe and won’t hurt the creatures. They simply leave a charge in the air that works as a repellent of sorts.”
I nodded, my jaw clenched. Mr. Aldine’s age and experience instilled within me a trust that he knew what he was talking about.
Okay, then. I steeled my resolve. Clear the skies before pulling into the station.
Chace took the left side of the train, and I took the right. We tossed flash bombs out the windows, lighting up the sky with explosion after explosion of insta-bright burn and electrical charge. With each blast, the number of monsters decreased.
“Go away,” I whispered to the creatures. “Fly far from here. Don’t make me burn your eyes with the light.”
Once or twice, I caught Chace tossing me a discerning stare, but I didn’t care. We didn’t come here to hurt creatures. Just because someone thought the things flying outside the train looked like monsters didn’t mean they truly were.
Sometimes, monsters were a matter of perspective. To some souls, reapers were the monsters. And even beings perceived to be the most delicate among other kinds harbored a dark side.
The train chugged and chugged and chugged-a-slug, through the land of still waters and craggy hills, pulling into a desolate station, and drawing to a slow stop with a shwoooch. The whistle blew twice.
Ours was the only stop, so…
Did we need to detrain here? Where those things continued to fly in the sky overhead.
“Get your stuff.” Mr. Aldine slung his bag over his shoulder and then wiped his hand against the side of his cloak. “The train isn’t going to sit at this stop all day.”
Alright then. I reached for my bag, attempting to hide the slight tremor quivering in my hands by wrapping the strap around my fingers. Here we go.