55

Reap the Rewards

XAVIER

The impressive display of blazing, purple flames disappeared into smoke, and Willow dropped to her knees, falling to the ground, her white hair wafting after her.

“Willow!” I rushed to her, shaking her avidly and hoping she would wake, my voice trembling. “Willow…!”

Gods, she was cold as ice, her lips turning blue.

Cilia cackled. “Oh dear, she doesn’t have much heat after all? How sad…” She stepped forward. “Now that that little distraction is gone, I believe our game is… Lucrine, what are you doing there?”

She was looking at Dalen, who glanced round with a puzzled expression winding his face. “What, me?” asked Dalen.

“Stop standing there like an idiot and bring me the wolf boy,” she clipped, waving an impatient hand at him.

Dalen gave a flat stare. “Why in the five realms would I do that?”

“What is this defiance?”

“Lucrine’s dead,” I spat. I gently laid Willow down to pluck my scythe-spheres from their chain, a growl spilling from my throat. “We killed him. And we’ll do the same for you…!”

I leapt up, charging as the others followed suit behind me.

Cilia made to move away, but Jaq wrapped his chain around her, immobilizing the demon. Lilli took to the sky, coming behind her and ripped her dual scythes over the creature’s spine, a scream gushing from her lips.

I swiftly cut off her hands before she could throw any fire at us, kicking the squirming, ink-infested appendages away. The fingers crawled over the ground, trying to reattach themselves like disgusting worms.

Dalen, using Lucrine’s body, gave a brief shudder before picking up the hands, gagging as the black glop dripped in large chunks over his bare, hoof-textured feet.

I drew one blade to Cilia’s throat and drove the other into her chest with a satisfying squish.

“Congratulations for your grossly extended life,” I growled, beginning to draw my scythe toward her heart, the she-beast screeching. “Rest in peace…! And may your soul be Cleansed by the Goddess!”

I gave a final heave—

“NO!” She broke free, leaping back in a scream and pulled my scythe out of her chest.

Jaq jerked his chain, trying to reel her in, but she let the scythe cut through her body in a spiral, black blood whirling round her, unheeded.

Finally free, she crouched like a feral creature, cat ears curled in a vicious hiss. “You dare think you can send me away so easily?”

Dalen gave a disgusted gasp when the detached hands he held wriggled furiously, curling toward his arms and drew sharp claws down his skin, making him yell and drop them. The hands obediently slithered back to their places on Cilia’s stubbed wrists, black sludge sealing the wounds.

Her joints cracked and popped, slinking around us as a lynx stalked its prey. Her lips stretched into a hungry smile, voice unnervingly playful. “Amusing little game you had there… I’m afraid you won’t be so fortunate a second time. A team effort, is it? Why don’t we see what happens when I pick you off one by one!”

The last word ripped from her throat, and in a flash, she pounced for Octavius, grabbing his shirt collar and igniting her hands with fire.

“How about you first, little cat?!” Cilia giggled, mad with fury. “I’ll enjoy tossing your entrails to my horde and add your soul to my collec…”

Her breath caught, stopping when their eyes met.

Her fire extinguished, white pupils wide and cat ears folded down her neck. Octavius stumbled to the ground when she dropped him, and he shuffled back, face flashing with shock at her.

“You…” Cilia staggered, looking sick. “Who are…”

Ringëd stiffened behind Octavius, his gaze splintering at Cilia. “Oscha.” Ringëd stumbled on the words. “M… Mika?”

Cilia’s brow furrowed as though pained. “M… Mika… ni…” She held an absent hand to her head. “That was my… mother’s name…?” She took deep, jagged breaths. “No… No, it was his…”

A Reaper yelled out a command in the distance. The knights charged through the haze of smoke toward us. The demon army had been thinned to a mere few dozen, by the looks of it.

Cilia hesitated, sobriety rekindling in her green eyes. Her confusion dripped into fear.

Yet her retreating step faltered, stealing another glance at Octavius. Her fists balled, and with a sharp shake of her head, she fled, disappearing into the smoke.

The Death Knights finally came to our aid, calling out orders to search the perimeter for the Sentient. But I had a feeling she’d already vanished. I doubted it’d be so easy, after all this.

There were a few Reapers running to the burning temple with hoses, perhaps having found the nearest fire station and taken its supplies, and began dousing the fire. It was a small help, but there wasn’t much else one could do for this rubble. The entire town had either been leveled or broken beyond repair. The Everlanders who’d once called this place home were either dead or reduced to wandering vagabonds now.

The troops gathered in their individual squads, reporting to their captains. Some, however, were mourning the loss of their Brothers and Sisters. We hadn’t won this battle free of casualties. Watching Reaper after Reaper being carried away on stretchers, covered with white cloths, their friends wiping tears and speaking prayers to the Goddess…

My fists tightened on my scythes. Cilia would meet her end before even stepping foot in our caverns.

Behind me, there was a circle of knights, and I put away my scythes before pushing through the crowd. Jaq met my glance and followed.

In the center of the gathering, Willow lay where I left her, slumbering. One of the higher ranked Reapers, with brown bat wings, was checking her pulse, announcing in relief that she was alive. He noticed me then and shuffled to his feet.

“High Howllord.” He saluted with a fist to his chest, wings tucking behind him. “I am Trixer Mauve, captain of squad 243 C. It is an honor to meet you. First Fangs Alice has tasked us with escorting your group out of the area.”

I nodded, crouching over Willow to brush away a stray hair from her face. I muttered absently. “Send my Mistress our gratitude…”

“Gratitude received.”

I jolted at the sound of my mother’s voice. My head snapped up to find her looming over me.

Her helm was tucked under an arm, the other placed expectantly at her side as her wolf ears curled tight beside her head. Her tail swished brusquely at her ankles, a delicate brow cocked in my direction.

Alex cursed from my head, Jaq gave a respectful bow to my left. I floundered to speak. “Moth… Mistress? You came as well?”

“I did,” she said, tone rough. I saw she had a split lip and a few bruises on her cheek. “We thought it was time to retrieve our students ourselves.”

My breath faded. “Our…?”

A new shadow cast over me from behind, large and imposing, followed by a strict, grating voice. “I see you haven’t grown out of your habit for finding trouble, boys.”

My legs sprang straight on their own, pivoting to face the Death King’s Eyes, hands clasping behind me at a hastened attention.

Jaq followed my example verbatim, both of us reciting our pre-programmed greeting in succinct unison. “Master Lucas, my liege! You honor us with your gracious presence.”

Jaq and I saluted with fists to our chests and bowed, remaining low.

“At ease,” Father permitted.

We rose, but still stood at attention. Neither of us, it seemed, could help our conditioned training, especially not when staring directly at those daunting, sapphire eyes. Even the messenger raven that’d flapped to my father’s shoulder was the image of authority, Barrach matching his impeccable posture and intent gaze.

“Status report,” Father rumbled, his calm tone even managing a commanding resonance. “Any fatalities among your team?”

“No, Master,” we said at once. “All accounted for.”

“Injuries to be treated?”

I spoke separately this time. “Few and minor, to my knowledge.” I paused, flicking my gaze to Willow. “Though, I wish to request immediate medical attention for Her Highness. Her pulse is strong, but she may have suffered a head injury, or perhaps severe fatigue.”

He nodded. “Our field Medics are coming as we speak, Her Highness will be well looked after. Now tell me what’s become of the Sentients.”

Jaq answered that one. “One killed, the other retreated, my lord, after seeing her numbers thinned.”

Another nod, this time impressed. His gaze scanned the smoky destruction around us. He seemed to smell something foul in the air and took a sniff. “I expect an explanation of what’s transpired here the second you and your team have been tended to. Understood?”

“Understood, Sir,” we said, saluting again.

“Good. Now…” Father blew out through his nose, the stone-cold glare suddenly softening. I cringed when he laid a hand on my shoulder.

“That aside,” he said, chuckling. “You’ve made this old man unbelievably proud.”

I froze under his grip, seeing his bearded lips offer a rare, endearing smile. “You’ve fought well, tonight. Especially considering the circumstances. Not many apprentices would have survived this without reinforcements. Perhaps even with them.”

He released me and straightened, folding his arms behind his back. “And for that, I’d say you’ve passed your final examination. Your induction into the Brotherhood will henceforth be accepted without question.”

“As of this day,” Mother announced, stepping beside him. Her eyes had a twinkle of smug pride. “I am pleased to declare you are no longer our apprentices. As far as we’re concerned, you are our Brothers-in-Arms. Congratulations on your graduation.”

A roar of cheers came from the surrounding knights, voicing their approval with goodhearted whoops and metallic clangs with their scythes and shields. Even their messengers were croaking and screeching from the sky, Mal and Bridge cawing jovially at our feet along with them.

Jaq and I stood there, exchanging shocked glances. We broke into thrilled laughter and clasped hands, then saluted and bowed to Mother and Father, this time profoundly lower.

“Thank you, Mistress,” we said in unison. “Master… We are honored to have called you our teachers.”

“And you our students,” they replied together, chuckling with congratulatory nods.

Jaq and I broke our stance and pounded each other’s shoulders in a laugh… but my cheer soon dulled when I glanced back down at Willow, who was still slumbering at my feet.

The crowd kept to their chatter around us while moving on with their duties, but their voices faded from my attention when I crouched beside her.

Jewel fluttered down to Willow, alighting on her collarbone. In the crow’s beak was Willow’s black hair-ribbon, the silver bell jingling as Jewel set it down and chirped in concern, rubbing her head against Willow’s smooth jaw.

I picked up the ribbon and bell, clutching it. Lined along the black silk were grey butterflies, and my eyes traced them nostalgically. Now I remembered. I gave this to her as a gift, years ago. It was the first gift I ever gave her. Butterflies had been her favorite…

From above the mirth, the mourning and commotion, a familiar face came soaring toward us. My mother’s winged vassal, Aiden, flapped beside my mother. He handed her what looked like Willow’s scythe. She must have dropped it during the battle.

“Ah, thank you, Aiden,” Mother said, examining the bejeweled weapon with an admiring eye. “I’m glad you weren’t killed the second time I revived you.”

She reverted Willow’s scythe back to its hair-stick form, the black rod glittering with gems as Mother turned it in her hand. She gave the ornament to Aiden. “Please inform the lady Yulia she has been assigned to look after the Death Princess in her dreams, and to report any concerns to me, should they arise. And make it clear that only she is permitted to even glimpse at Her Highness’s subconscious. Discretion is preferred.”

Aiden nodded, adjusted his goggles, and took flight to do as asked.

My mother and father looked down at me, flicking their gazes at Willow. Father lowered his voice to avoid eavesdroppers. “Now then… Xavier. I don’t know what Willow is doing here, but I’m sure you can guess what my next question is.”

Oh, I could guess, all right. The difficult part would be answering. Bracing, I started with, “It hasn’t been… clarified.”

Mother’s lids turned into slits at me. “Meaning?”

“—Mother Alice!” Lilli called from the crowd, pushing her way through with her leathery wings. “Father Lucas!”

When the bat stepped up to them, my mother blinked. “My word, is that little Lilli?”

“I should hope I’m not little anymore,” Lilli grumbled, arms crossing. “Mother Alice, there’s something I wished to ask you.”

“That certainly makes two of us,” Mother muttered, her tone smoldered with suspicion. “What are both my Spirit Daughters doing on the surface? Has the whole blasted castle gone on holiday?”

Her head shook tiredly. “It’s a rather long story. But I wished to ask about my arrangement…”

Both Father and Mother seemed to remember whatever she was talking about, and the High Howless breathed. “Oh. Yes. It’s still ongoing, if you were worried.”

“Well, yes, but…” Lilli looked conflicted, glancing at me. “How is their… condition going to affect it?”

I cringed when Mother’s stare iced over, her voice scratching. “Condition?”

Lilli gestured to us uncertainly. “Well, this… er, I’m actually not sure what it is… What’s happened to them, exactly?”

Father’s glare bore down at me while Mother pinched the rim of her nose, drawing in a slow breath. I knew that meant she was barely containing her fury.

Mother kept her voice calm and level when addressing Lilli again. “Dear, I’m sorry, but it will have to wait. We’ll explain in private… Until then, I beg you: do not, under any circumstances, speak a word of this to anyone else. Not a soul.”

Lilli’s wings bowed in bewilderment. “But why?”

A scream cut through the air.

It was Lucrine—er, Dalen—on his knees, reaching for his chest as if in great pain. “Argh…!” He gripped his shirt, gasping between agonized grunts. “No… Gods damn it, no…!”

Jaq, who’d been off to the side wiping ash and dirt from his face, rushed over to see what had happened. I could hear him from where I was crouched, the viper asking. “What’s wrong, Dalen?”

Dalen doubled over his knees, wheezing. “I’m… dead. My body’s dead, I can… feel…”

Mother turned suspicious. “Your body is standing here in front of us.”

“It isn’t his.” I looked up at her. “We’ll explain later, but I think we should find his body. We at least owe him that much, for helping us.”

Mother straightened with a low grumble. “Very well. Debts must be paid, when rightly due…”

She stopped, glancing at Octavius and Ringëd. Both men were still sitting in the dirt, staring dazedly off in the distance, looking to where Cilia had fled. Neither had spoken a word since the battle ended.

“Isn’t that the new apprentice?” asked Mother.

“Yes…” I squinted at the two, concerned. Ringëd had called the Sentient Mika… Wasn’t that the name of Octavius’s sister? And Ringëd’s betrothed. What did this mean?

I stood as Jaq followed me toward the pair. When we loomed over them, they didn’t seem to notice us. That feral ferret of Ringëd’s curled round the officer’s neck and desperately patted its paws against his cheek, as though trying to rouse him from his shock.

I put a hand on Ringëd’s shoulder, hesitant. “Officer…? Was that truly…?”

He whispered. “I… I don’t know.” He swallowed, voice shaken as he finally looked at me, haunted. “I don’t Bloody know. I-I’d be able to tell the difference, right…? I-I’m marrying her, I know what she damn well looks like, I…” His throat tightened, and he clenched his jaw, storming off. “Tavius, come here!”

Tavius snapped out of his haunted daze, gaze trembling at the officer. “Wh-wh… what?”

“Give me your com,” Ringëd rumbled, his gaze Deathly determined. “I have a call to make.”