The Reaper In Black--Chapter Six

Clucking her tongue, the girl urged the dark brown horse forward. As the animal slowly lumbered down the path out of the thick forest, she looked around at her surroundings. Tall trees reached up to the skies with clambering branches that bled in every direction. The near-black of the tree bark was a sharp contrast to the naturally red and orange leaves that swayed in the light breeze.

Upon exiting the forest, girl and horse were greeted with the view of towering mountains in the distance. They sat atop a hill at the entrance to the forest and at the beginning of a large grassy basin. Vibrant silver and violet flowers danced in a wind that was stronger than in the forest.

"Larana,"

The girl turned in her saddle at the sound of her name, searching for the source. A black-haired boy with dull green eyes rode his bay horse up next to hers, smiling brightly.

"How are ya'?" He asked, sniffing back a sneeze when the pollen in the air hit him. "Ya' left sort of early, don't ya' think?"

"I'm fine," she whispered, not trusting her voice. In truth, she was terrified. Terrified of what she had overheard her parents talking about. Was she really that much of a nuisance? Was she really that worthless? "I think I might be leaving soon, Ralter,"

"What makes ya' say that?" His expression worried and his voice thick with allergies, the boy looked at her with a paternal concern. This boy--only two years older than she--had looked after her like a brother looks after a sister since she was born. When she was five years old, there had been a fire on their side of the village; her parents had fled into the night, but the seven year old Ralter had wriggled into her burning home to save her. After dragging her out, he had carried her away from the flames and up into the mountains. They had stayed there in his 'clubhouse' for a few days before returning to the village. Though she had never questioned his judgment and firm decision to stay in the mountains for a few days, she had always wondered: why? He had seemed so scared back then. Scared that if he had taken her to the village leader, something would happen to her.

"It's just... I really shouldn't say." Larana partially gave up trying to squeeze the words out, the pain of possibly having to say goodbye to him too great.

"Ah, just go ahead. Ya' know ya'll tell me later anyways," he laughed. She laughed too, but it felt thick. It felt fake.

"I heard my parents talking last night. You know that travelling clan that came through the village the other day? The ones with the weird eyes?"

"Yeah?"

"Well apparently, not long after they left, a scout came back and told the leader that the clan wanted a child they had seen; the scout described a kid, and the leader sent a messenger to our house. I guess the scout described me, because my parents were talking up a storm about it. They were talking about how much money the clan had offered; enough to buy a couple of houses, fifty horses, and a few mills while you're at it."

"Bloody 'ell. Are ya' saying they're gonna sell ya' off like some piece a filthy dung?! They can't do that to y--"

"Oh, hush up. You know they have the right, I know they've thought about it, and that clan knew they would. I think the deal is already finished, to be honest. Mother told me to pack a few favorite things and get ready for a 'surprise adventure' that I would leave for tonight. I'm only nine, but I'm not a moron."

There was an uncomfortable silence as both girl and boy tried to think of what else to say. There wasn't anything left to voice, though. He was staying, she was leaving, and they probably would never see each other again.

"Well, when do ya' go?" He asked, solemn as he fiddled with a strand of his horse's hair.

"Tonight, I said. As soon as it gets dark."

"Meet me at the forest hut just before moon rise, ya' hear? Right as the sun's burnin' away."

"Alright. I..." She paused, squinting down into the valley at the wood-and-stone village in the distance. "I think someone's waving for us to come back. Looks like my father."

"See ya' later, then, Larana," Ralter gave a meager wave, turning his horse back toward the forest. For the first time, Larana noticed his bow and arrows slung over his back. She also noticed--not for the first time--the scars on the back of his neck that his loose shirt barely hid. The scars of a horse whip that his uncle beat him with when he couldn't hunt enough meat to sell and eat. Her heart contracted, but instead of saying something equally gloomy, she giggled.

"Just call me Rana already, Ralter. That way our names match up!" The lightheartedness of the comment did the trick, and he turned to beam at her.

"I think we already match enough, but alright."

It was after she had rode back into the village that the meaning of his statement hit her. Or more of her lack of understanding it. What exactly had he meant?

Shrugging to herself, she dismounted and went to pack for a journey she doubted she would return from.

*****

Rain poured down like knives, slicing into her skin and ripping at her clothes. Leaning into the howling wind, she let her horse sprint at full speed down the moonlit path. Rock formations dotted the plains around her, making her feel wary of an ambush. As she rounded another turn in the path, the massive castle perched atop a blackened mountain came into view.

Gripping the bundle she held in her arms, she prayed for the first time since she was three. Then, a crazed Reaper had slaughtered an entire city of people. Lower class, middle class, upper class--including her noble family--and the royal family had all been murdered in an event now known as the Deviana Slaughter of Souls. She had prayed to anyone who would listen then to save her family. It had failed then, and she wasn't sure it would work now.

As she approached the city gates--colossus wooden doors strengthened by iron supports--she began screaming.

"Open the gates! Open the gates now!"

Her voice tore through the gale, but the guards only looked down at her from the safety-and dryness--of their watch post hut.

"Open it up, eh? And who the 'ell are you?" One of the guards called down, sneering at her. She bit back a growl and pulled her hood back as she used her left hand to pull out a five-shot pistol from an inner pocket. Pointing it in the vague direction of the guard, she let of one shot, and then another. Each bullet whizzed a fraction of an inch past either side of the guard's head, the echoing sound draining all color from his face. "Blasted lunatic! I'll have you reported!"

"Let me in or I'll shoot your worthless face off, curse you!"

The sound of hooves clicking against cobblestone made her turned in her saddle to see who approached. A figure hooded in a thick brown cloak reached into their leather coat and pulled out an elegant, shining Silver Card. Flashing it at the guards, the figure spoke.

"Let us in or I'll have you shot; of course, if you keep her waiting too much longer, she'll finish that job whether or not I authorize it."

Swallowing, the guard waved his hand at two lower-ranking guards, calling for them to open the gates.

"You have a Silver Card? Where'd you manage to get that?" The woman asked the figure, figuring by the sound of the mysterious person's voice that 'it' was indeed a 'she'.

"It was an honor I received for various reasons. That isn't nearly as important as the reason you pointed a gun at a city guard and threatened to blast his brains all over the wall."

"This child. I found this child on the side of the road, glowing like you wouldn't believe."

"Ah. Now tell me, doll, why you would pick up an abnormal child and bring it here? This place isn't known for its hospitality or physical well-beings. It is, truly, one of the most filthy cities there is on this planet."

"It was closest." The woman snarled, not liking the probing way the brown-hooded figure spoke. Like the other woman knew something she did not; like she knew something and wanted to know more.

The gate opened, and both the figure and the woman forced their horses into a fast trot.

"I have a strong scientific background in several fields; perhaps I you would like to stay at my house in this city while the child recovers? I could help with any medical or financial needs, which is more than you can say for anyone else in this cursed place. Doctors here wouldn't know what a vial of acid was if it scalded their faces." The figure offered, keeping their horses evenly matched in speed.

"You say that like I don't have a choice,"

"You don't. My name is Evora, Ms....?"

The woman hesitated, her mind whirring.

Evora. Evora. Evora.

Could it be the scientist?! No... it couldn't possibly be that Evora. She was miles away from the Queen's domain, and there was nothing of scientific intrigue here to attract the scientist. Still, just to be safe...

"Emara," she said. Evora coughed into her cloak, but to Emara it sounded like a harsh laugh. "Where are you from, Evora?"

"Where am I from? Shouldn't you be more worried about your precious tainted child?" Evora asked, incredulous.

"Right." Emara had the feeling she would have to be extremely cautious around Evora, whether or not she was that Evora.

"Well, follow me to my estate and we'll see if we can get her patched up."

"How did you know the child was a girl?"

Emara watched Evora's back carefully as she kept her horse at a steady trot just in front of Emara. The other woman didn't even flinch at the accusation, instead choosing to laugh.

"You pick up a few skills in my line of work."

"What exactly is 'your line of work', then?"

Evora glanced at Emara--at least Emara think she did; the other woman kept her face hidden in the darkness of her hood, so she couldn't be sure--letting out a single snort.

"Let me get your kid in a warm bed with some food in her stomach before we go into the specifics."

Ten minutes later, the two women approached a large manor that looked menacing and empty. Emara assumed this was Evora's home. The building was made of stacked stones and wooden support beams that held up a clay-slated roof covered in bird's nests. The house had no special arcetectual designs to be noted; however, it also wasn't dingy. It led Emara to believe that Evora was either middle class or pretending to be middle class. The scientist was such a good actress--or she was telling the truth--that it was impossible to tell.

Evora dismounted and took the girl from Emara's arms, carrying her into the manor and up the stairs to a large bedroom. Lighting candles as she moved from room to room, Evora gathered up blankets, food, books, and various vials filled with strangely-colored liquids. Emara could do nothing but watch her buzz about like a crazed bee, sitting on the bed beside the child.

Emara wondered if Evora knew what was wrong with the girl; she had a faint idea herself, but it was an opinion that could get both her and the child killed on sight, so she decided to keep it to herself. If Evora had the intellectual training she claimed to have, then certainly she must have guessed it by now, too. The child's short white hair was odd enough, but the fact that a faint illumination could be seen from behind her eyelids was another story entirely. The girl's fingers twitched every now and again, her fingernails momentarily morphing into silvery claws. This girl was more than likely a Reaper, which was incredibly rare--Reapers this young were never seen because they usually never left their parents' side.

When Evora had gathered all she needed, she pulled up a chair next to the bed and began doing a check-up of sorts. Emara watched the scientist feel the girl's hair, forehead, wrists, eyelids, and fingertips, then move to pass a queer silvery stone over her closed eyes. The stone flashed brightly as it crossed the path of her eyes, an event that made Evora grunt. While the scientist continued her analyzation of the child, Emara tried to seek out her face behind the hood. Only a faint outline could be seen, but the features Emara saw there were frighteningly similar to that scientist.

Emara prayed that her eyes were mistaken, and that she had not just walked into a lion's den.

*

Emara awoke to complete and utter darkness, and felt panic rise in her chest. When she tried to move, she heard the rattle of metal against metal and found that she could not so much as wiggle her body.

"Finally awake, then?"

Emara heard Evora's voice clearly, and held back a scream. In the darkness, with no outside noises and distractions, the voice unmistakably belonged to that Evora. Emara began to fight the metal that bound her, slamming her fists against what felt like a slab of wood.

"How amazingly delicious that our paths cross at a time like this, where everyone thought you had disappeared. You and I both know how happy Her Majesty will be with my discovery. If I recall correctly, she wants you dead. In fact, I could have sworn you were dead." Evora continued, her voice getting closer. Muffled footsteps walktzed toward Evora like water sneaking up on the ground.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered warily, her voice shaking.

"Come now, doll, I'm not so dumb that I would believe that. Absolutely incredible that we meet each other again under such circumstances; I think this is one of those rare win-win situations. The Queen will be happy I've found you, I'm happy you just gave me the rarest example of Reaper there is, and you... Well, you won't be happy about much of anything, but that's alright."

"You're insane! I don't know who you are! Let me go, now!" Emara felt pure terror rattle her heart and mind like a blistering storm, her fight-or-flight instincts choosing 'flight'. She felt a hand grip her shoulder, and heard another hand light a candle. Evora Traditoryn's face was revealed in all of its calculated coldness. Dark forest green eyes stared at her like a predator would gaze at prey, her lips pressed firmly together in a thin line.

"Let's cut to the chase, Gladys. How did you manage to hide your abilities from all of us, escape the Reaper, and obtain a child so rare, it could get you a Gold Card?!" Evora slammed her fist against the wood slab Emara--or more accurately, Gladys--was chained to, her hand landing right next to Gladys's face. "You disappeared right off the map without a trace, and now you're here again."

""I never left, you worthless woman!" Gladys screamed, completely dropping all acting. "I stayed close enough to watch what was going on; the Reaper knew, and yet he didn't say a thing. Besides, what makes you think I ever hid anything?! Did you ever stop and think that maybe Akdel was the one hiding things?"

"What has Akdel got to do with this?"

"He can sense humans and nonhumans; he can tell what they are and how long they've been that way! He's known all along what I am!"

Evora leaned back, her expression startled and confused. The momentary disablement only lasted for a split second, however, before a look of realization hit her, and an aurora of deviousness with it.

"I thank you for the information, Lady Gladys. You'll have to excuse me while I take a short trip; fear not, I shall keep the child safe and Her Majesty clueless for now. It seems there are bigger fish in the local pond than I originally anticipated."

With that Evora left, leaving Gladys hopelessly and horridly captured and alone.

*****

She felt no remorse. She felt no sympathy. She felt nothing at all.

The farmer's blood seeped between her fingers and down her arms, coating her in luscious red. The man's frightened expression was frozen on his dying face, his skin white and his eyes blood-shot. What remained of his graying black hair stuck wetly to the bald spots on his head, the strands looking similar to death's own fingers reaching out for him.

"Where is the child?" She hissed, spreading her blackened wings wide to emphasize her words. Her silvery claws were embedded in his throat, her body quivering at the strength it took to keep from stealing his soul. She couldn't finish him yet. Not yet.

The farmer reached his hands up and grabbed her face, trying to claw her away.

"I'll never tell you," he sputtered. She smiled at him briefly before snapping his neck to the left, and then to the right. His soul was sucked through her claws and into her body with ease, giving her a boost of much-needed energy.

She was getting too weak. It was time to stage a 'plague'. Time to stock up on as many souls as possible; she had a feeling she would need all of them when she faced Larana. She also had a feeling that day would come soon. She couldn't lurk in the shadows for much longer; she could never hide from Larana's vision. The only thing she could hope for was that she would have the element of surprise over Larana.

That, and pray that Larana wasn't gathering souls in her own special way.