15. Raven
After two pints of ale, a belly full of braised boar, and an hour of disquieting exchange, I checked on Mr. Aldine then retreated to my private room to rest up for the next day.
Is he going to be a problem? Chace’s words continued to buzz in my ears long after he’d spoken them.
If my bruised palm hadn’t remained tender, I’d have seriously considered smacking him across the cheek…his stupid, somewhat alluring face.
As if I would allow any stranger to pull my attention from the task at hand.
Fires of vexation continued to rage within my chest. Damn Chace for even suggesting I would flirt with anyone while on the job—much less the handsome, arrogant stranger calling himself Winter.
His ice-blue eyes swam before my thoughts, and I quickly shook the vision from my head.
I didn’t want to linger in this citadel any longer than necessary, which meant I needed to get these people reaped and then get out. No dillydallying, no distractions. Get it done and get gone.
Chace’s irritating eyes had flashed with something bestial when he suggested I lacked commitment to the job, and that look had caused my breath to snag in my throat. Completely insufferable. He clearly thought himself better than me. Better at the reaping.
Reaper rat.
He knew all too well how to inflame me.
I curled my hands into tight fists and shook with my overflowing fury.
The quiet darkness of my room accepted my anger and annoyances, absorbed my emotions, and slowly…all too slowly…diffused them.
After washing the grime from my body and setting out my attire for the following day, I had completed my decompression activities. And yet my wounded emotions kept my mind from resting.
No doubt, whatever came next I would find trying—challenging, at the very least—and even though I felt mentally and physically exhausted, I couldn’t fall asleep.
I dispelled some of my frustration, though not nearly enough, by rearranging my room so that the bed pressed against the window and provided me with a view of the job.
Having the target or goal set before me during my downtime helped me hone my thoughts regarding approach and necessary tactics… but it didn’t help me sleep.
I heaved my bag off the floor and dug my hand deep within, grabbing my reaper manual.
By the light of the bedside lamp, I settled on the mattress, with my back against the headboard, and flipped through the pages.
I analyzed every documented detail regarding the reaper tools Mr. Aldine might have used the night he’d fallen into his current state—the collector’s eye and the reaper’s grip—but found nothing particularly helpful to our current situation or to Mr. Aldine’s condition.
Notes written within the margins by my mother’s hand supplied the only comfort found, providing much-needed messages after the way things had gone today.
Our reaper team’s first experience in the citadel was nothing short of a disaster—a surprise for which we had arrived unprepared.
I had reacted poorly, but I wouldn’t do so again.
Going forward, I would show up each day ready for anything unexpected. Stand tall in the face of the unforeseen.
Because my mother’s words fueled my inner fortitude.
The most important tools in your arsenal are assuredness and intention.
Honor your inner deity and shy not from all that you are.
I dragged a heavy breath through my chest. My body felt like a shell of itself, and I hated admitting a truth I couldn’t allow myself to deny―I had arrived utterly unprepared for the challenges this citadel presented.
Hugging my knees closer to my chest, I tried to clear my mind. When peace didn’t find me, I turned off the bedside lamp and allowed the darkness to swallow me, soothe my thoughts.
My gaze found the night-kissed citadel beyond the window. Occasionally, I thought I caught the movement of a specter in the streets, but when I focused, whatever lurked there vanished.
To what extremes would we have to go to succeed in this monumental task of a reap?
Releasing a long, drawn-out breath, and dipping my gaze to my hands, I scrutinized the reaping glove my father had stashed in my bag.
The same device I had borrowed for my last task.
The fact that my father had sent an item that stole pieces of the user in order to free a soul said a lot about the cursed Citadel of Veritas.
None of which sat comfortably in my gut.
How does he expect me to use this thing?
I turned the device over in my hand.
Did he send the device simply as a precaution?
If only one of the devices I’d brought could help me figure out how to treat and heal Mr. Aldine. Swallowing a squeeze of apprehension, I lifted the crow caller from my side and pressed the button.
Before I could finish translating my thoughts into a composed message, a flurry of feathers settled upon the window perch.
“That was fast,” I mumbled.
The bird’s speedy response suggested it came from the next roof over, as if it stayed close, waiting for a call to action.
I added a few last words plus a signature to my note, then rolled and tied the paper. The black bird stretched its neck and gonked, as if seeking the paper and my request.
“Thank you for coming, big guy.”
I scrutinized the bird more closely and blinked. Too large for a crow, its tail wedged rather than fanned, and a bigger bill with an extra curve… Curious. A raven awaited my message, not a usual crow.
I extended my arm, Raven to raven, presenting the scroll. “Would you mind delivering this to Reaper Scorpeo Gunn? Time is of the essence.”
The raven gonked-gonked and nodded, then it snatched the communication from my hold. With the flap of his large wings, he took to the sky.
Four days had passed since I’d sent the raven flying with my message. Four days arguing with Chace about our approach to the reaping task. And four days without a reply or a clue of what to do regarding Aldine’s condition.
And he showed no signs of getting better.
Somewhere along the line, I had started referring to our mentor in the same fashion as Chace, having dropped the elder’s respectful title. Was Chace rubbing off on me?
I tried not to dwell on the thought as I tilted my head to the midnight sky. The twinkle of stars fought for visibility against the iridescent barrier covering the citadel. Although a boundary curse, the manner in which the magical cloak gleamed on clear nights created a gorgeous canvas overhead.
After a too-long day and another failure to guide any souls to the afterlife, Chace and I had returned to the pub―our home base for the time being―and then gone our separate ways. A splash of water on my face to refresh, a quick meal to refuel, and I found my way to the rooftop terrace.
The pub and boarding rooms consisted of two floors.
The terrace and another enclosed space (behind a locked door) comprised a third.
The terrace consumed over half the available footage and offered a view overlooking the front of the building and the citadel beyond.
The locked mystery room ran from one end to the other, across the back of the building, and featured a wicked A-frame roofline.
Placing that at my back, and standing at the terrace’s edge, I studied the streets spanning the distance between the palace and the pub, trying to make sense of the layout and patterns.
I suspected the many pathways were designed or enchanted to confuse, for when Chace and I had feet on the ground, navigating our course, we always failed to find our way.
I really needed an aerial view, something not available in the low-to-no-tech citadel. My only option, to make do with the resources available.
Abandoning the unsuccessful attempt from the terrace, I shimmied up the attached, sloped roof, careful to find solid footing and not slide down the steep slant. I perched myself inches below the top ridge and…sighed.
The additional rise in elevation offered no increased visibility.
Trial and error it would continue to be. But locate the palace we would. I would.
Lying back against the weathered shingles, I ignored the occasional flying monster darting across the sky and absorbed the shimmer of stars above, the creaks and bangs of activity in the building below. Time swam at a leisurely rate, its passage fluid and untraceable.
“What are you doing up there?”
My upper body jerked into a straight-backed sit, the shift of weight causing me to slip an inch down the roof’s pitch. Catching myself, I snapped my focus to Chace. He stood on the terrace below, his arms folded across his chest and his head tipped to the side.
“I could ask you the same.” I grazed my hands over the wooden shingles at my sides, seeking a strong hold, but my touch only found old, brittle, and rough roof tiles.
His shoulders lifted and immediately dropped. “I was looking for you. Aoes suggested I might find you up here.” He glanced toward the stairwell door. “That guy appears to be far too aware of everything we do. I don’t like it.”
His assessment of Aoes was spot-on. The pub manager missed nothing. And as for Chace, no harm in admitting the truth…this time.
“I came up here to study the citadel.”
“Notice anything useful?”
“Nope.” My upper body rose and fell on a sigh.
His lips pressed tightly, and he nodded. Remained quiet for half a moment. “We need to talk about Aldine.”
My heart weighted. “Yeah. We do.”
Because he wasn’t getting better, and I hadn’t received a response to my inquiry.
Chace unfolded his arms and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “He should be in possession of the citadel’s file and who knows what else. I think it’s time we go through his belongings. Find out what he has that might help us…and him…complete our quest and get home.”
To touch Aldine’s belongings without his permission felt like a major violation of his privacy. And yet…had I not sought the opportunity to do the same to Chace? Search his stuff for whatever secrets he kept hidden? I likely would have already done so, had the chance presented itself.