Soul of the Crow: An Epic Dark Fantasy (Reapers of Veltuur Book 1), стр. 25
It seems like now would be a good time for that seventh member to be sitting with them, and yet, the throne remains empty.
“I have decided,” Leumas says at last.
Nymane counters, “The final verdict is not yours to make unless—”
“It is done!” he yells, the thick chamber air reverberating.
The Council falls silent. Everyone but Leumas and Nymane remain standing, but it doesn’t take the female Councilspirit long to acquiesce. When she does, Leumas peers over his podium down at me.
“We are reassigning you, Reaper Sinisa. Your contract on Princess Gem Halaud of Oakfall will be temporarily suspended.”
My body is pricked by ice. I’ve never heard of a temporary suspension on any contract before. Ever. It just isn’t done. We are expected to claim the lives that Veltuur instructs us to claim, and if we don’t, then we’re sent to the Wraiths. Even then, the contract isn’t suspended. It’s generally given to another Reaper to perform the task that the other Reaper failed. About a hundred of my kills were passed-on contracts.
“Instead,” he continues. “Your new mission is to aid the Halaud boy in locating a Guardian.”
My eyebrow raises. “You’re joking.” The words slip past my tongue before I can stop them, but Leumas doesn’t flinch.
“You will return to the land of the living at once and follow the prince on his journey. Befriend him if you must. In fact, I encourage it. Find out what he knows about the Guardians and see if he can lead you to one.”
The word befriend slides around in my mind like an eel. I’ve never had a friend, none that I remember anyway. I wouldn’t know how to befriend someone even if they were forced to endure my company. Take Crow, for example. We’ve been working together for a few years, and it still hates being around me.
Although I’m not sure where friendships even begin, the thought does start to intrigue me, surprisingly, in a weird, experimental kind of way. How do mortals enlist each other’s devotion and trust? Probably not by trying to execute their kin.
Suddenly, I remember how protective he was of the little girl. The prince was by no standard convention a fighter. In fact, he gave off more of an impression of a frightened baby bear cub. Even still, he’d stood up for the princess, despite her malformities and mortals’ customary revulsion toward defects. I don’t know what would possess someone to risk their life for another, but I’m told it’s called love.
“He’s never going to trust me,” I say. “He knows I’m the Reaper that’s contracted to kill his sister.”
Leumas’ voice becomes tight and deadly. “Then lie to him. Make him believe he can trust you. Make him believe that you are no longer contracted to kill her.”
Lying seems easy enough. I am a Reaper of Veltuur after all, a daughter of darkness and death; why not throw lying into the mix? I can do this. No problem.
“After you find the location of the Guardian,” Leumas continues. “You are to report back to the Council.”
I nod more eagerly than I anticipated. I hadn’t realized it, but I guess I’m sort of relieved. If what Leumas is telling me is the same as what I’m understanding, I just dodged thirty years of torture.
There is one downside though…
“What about Veltuur? Will I be given other contracts in the meantime?”
“No. This is your main objective now, and the only thing that matters.”
There’s a twinge in my chest as I realize what he’s saying: I will not become a Shade until this is finished. But I’m not one to wallow in self-pity. The sooner I can find the Guardian, the sooner I can have what I want.
“But the princess, she is still mine, once this is done?”
The smile that spreads across Leumas’ face is pure poison. “Yes. Once you deliver the information on the Guardians, you may return to the realm of the living and claim your five thousandth soul.”
The wicked gleam in his eyes is contagious as I feel it spark like a flame behind my own.
I snap to Crow, who glides over begrudgingly to land on my shoulder.
“Come, Crow. Let us befriend a prince.”
We disappear from the Pit of Judgment in a noxious cloud of black smoke.
10
Running from Shadows
Acari
My lungs strain for air, making me feel ridiculous because I’m not the one that’s been galloping for half the day. Maybe it’s just being on a horse in general that has left me winded. Ever since I was a child, I never trusted them. The abyss of their eyes always made them difficult to read, not to mention their erratic behavior. One second, the horses would be calm, but then the next one of them would dash away with you helplessly on top of it, begging for your brother to help you down, but he can’t hear you because he’s laughing too hard at how your foot’s stuck in the stirrup, and so you’re just flailing around while your horse tries rearing you off.
Not that that ever happened to me.
When Gem and I come across the small town of Ngal, I can’t contain my sigh of relief. Yes, because I’m ready to take a break from the sheer terror I experience while riding, but also because we need to change into something less…conspicuous. It’s not like I woke up this morning, knowing I was going to be fleeing the palace and trying to blend in with common folk, so I preemptively put on my simplest clothes.
Thankfully, Gem stopped crying a while