20. Chace #2
He dropped his foot from his knee and leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his thighs. “I got you this far, didn’t I? My tools got you out of the underground prison, and my actions cleared your confusion and helped you remember who and what you are.”
I couldn’t argue with either point. The Killian had done both of those things, and whether I was willing to admit it or not, I was grateful. I’d probably still be trapped in that underground cell without the Killian’s items Aldine had gifted me.
“All right, then.” I loosened my stance, allowing my hands to fall at my sides. Still tense, though. Ready to fight. “Why all the games? What is your goal here?”
He tilted his head and regarded me for a moment. “Tell me, soul hunter. Do you remember why you originally came to this citadel? Not the child Chace, but the soul hunter?’
I heaved a deep breath. “No.”
A frustrating answer and the truth. The not knowing was like nails scraping through my skull.
“Then you are not yet ready to know the larger mission.”
“Excuse me?” I fisted my hands. “You push me around like a puppet and then tell me I don’t need to know why?
Are you fucking kidding me?” I fought to keep my instinctual reaction from burning through my chest. “You jerked me around, more than once, and you picked fights with Raven, then call it…what? All fun and games?”
The Killian raised one eyebrow but chose not to respond.
“Why were you fighting with Raven anyway? What was that about?” I demanded.
An arrogant smile slid onto his lips, his eyes sparkling with a newly born expression. “The reaper needs to die. She wasn’t too keen on that idea.”
“What?” My jaw slackened. I was sure I’d heard wrong. He couldn’t have meant… The Killian couldn’t have said… “What?”
“You heard me.”
Die, as in dead. Raven was marked for death.
No. I shook my head as my insides erupted, shooting lava through my veins.
No. It couldn’t be. I wouldn’t let it be.
My muscles tightened. Cracked under pressure. Trembled. And my flesh burned so hot it had to be melting from my body.
First Aldine. Now Raven. Raven.
Her name was a whisper caressing my thoughts. My determination and resolution.
Only the Killian could reap a reaper. So, if the Killian were no more, the reaper could not be reaped.
No further thought. Only action.
I attacked.
On my approach to the Bridge Crossings Pub, my shoulders drooped, and my feet dragged. The night prior, I’d attacked the Killian and got my ass handed to me. Barely a fight existed to recall.
I’d lurched for the Killian, got a couple punches in, and then a blinding white light engulfed me. My next memory was waking up near the edge of the citadel population, bruised and sore.
At least I now knew where to find the Killian, even if I’d clearly failed in besting the reaper of reapers.
And if that high-level reaper was intent on transitioning Raven, then I’d just have to make sure she stayed in the palace where the Killian couldn’t get to her.
On that matter, I’d have to find a way to make her listen and obey.
She wouldn’t like being told what to do. I knew her well enough to know that truth. I needed to dispatch a crow as soon as possible, then maybe grab a short nap before attacking the rest of the day.
The thin, wall-anchored bed in the pub’s secret underground spy space sounded really good right about then. I was getting close—to the pub and the bed. I rounded a bend in the road, bringing the building into sight.
“Chace?” The call came from somewhere behind me and to the right. “It is Chace, isn’t it?”
I turned to discover the woman…Camilla, if I recalled correctly…making a beeline in my direction. Her two daughters were in tow. Them, I remembered well. Twins. One afflicted. Both drawing revealing pictures that led me to ask difficult questions.
“You are correct,” I said. “It’s Chace. Can I help you with something?”
She tossed a bashful wave in the air between us. “Oh no, we’re fine. Just heading down to see Aoes and wondered if you were going the same direction. We could walk together.”
My response temporarily stuck in my throat as I stared at her blankly.
The bastard of a male specimen who had tortured me, and had recently tried to recapture me, was still out there looking for me.
If word somehow got to that evil prick that I was seen in the woman’s company…
the woman and her daughters… Their safety could be jeopardized.
The thought churned, dark and heavy, like spoiled food in my gut.
I had yet to respond when the twins took hold of my hands and began guiding me down the street. Against my better judgement, I allowed them to lead the way and hardly paid attention for the rest of the walk. My mind was consumed with one thought—protect Raven from the Killian.
Within fifteen minutes, I slumped in a chair at the back corner of the pub. From my location, I was hidden from view of the front door, giving me time to disappear should an undesirable enter the establishment.
I straightened Raven’s last letter on the table and read it for the fifth time.
Curious Curse Chaser,
You call me brave and strong, wild and beautiful. Such words make me think you’re trying to win my favor, or you’re in need of an updated mental examination. Kidding. Maybe.
I shall be careful of my feathers. Each and every one of them is important to me. They’ve been tried and tested, and I’m convinced they’re made of steel. Very hard to snap, break, or pluck.
Since I’m keeping you apprised of the magical creatures sharing my cage, the most golden of the lot has recharged. Interesting, wouldn’t you agree?
Your flighty friend,
Black Bird
P.S. I too would not necessarily be unwilling to revisit said encounter.
Of course the first line I focused on was the last one she wrote. I might have been taken aback and confused immediately following said encounter, but now, after our continued correspondence… Yeah, there would be some revisiting in our future. I’d make it happen.
As for the rest of the letter…
Maybe I shouldn’t have told her all those things—that she was brave, strong, wild, and beautiful.
But I couldn’t make myself regret that I had.
In fact, I was glad I had. She was all those things and more, and she needed to know that.
And from the wording in her response, I couldn’t tell if she did or not.
Too bad I hadn’t openly accepted that truth about her sooner, instead of coming off like an overcompensating schmuck and treating her as inferior.
Because she was anything but. And as much as I wanted to believe her feathers were made of steel―because that would somewhat ease my worry regarding her safety―I doubted they were.
Curious about the golden creature sharing her cage, though. What did she mean by recharge? The most golden. Could she be referring to Winter? A golden magical creature had recharged.
Oh crap! My eyes blew wide. Was she trying to tell me that the prince had regained his magic? Did that make her unsafe in the palace? Outside wasn’t safe for her until something was done about my previous captor, as well as the Killian. But inside…
Aoes may know. He’s been friends with Winter for over a century.
My heart cranked up in pace, as if preparing to race. I scanned the pub in search of the manager. Camilla and the twins were helping for the day, but I spotted Aoes wiping down a recently vacated table on the other side of the room.
Raising my hand with a slight wave, I caught his attention. Aoes gave me a nod of acknowledgement, then he passed off the task of wiping to one of the twins and sauntered over.