The Children of Wisdom Trilogy Page 17

  “Punish?” I ask. I don’t like the sound of that, especially not when Andrew and Kismet are caught in there.

  “Try not to think about it.” Her grim expression says enough for the time being.

  “So who could have opened it now? Who would even be capable of doing such a thing?” Webber asks.

  “Aside from God, I don’t know. And since He was the one who closed it in the first place, I can’t see Him reopening it. The demons who run the outer gates of Hell don’t have the resources or the intelligence for something like that. Their jobs are simply to keep those who belong inside, and those who don’t out. They’re the ones I found wandering closest to the prison.”

  “So, if God is capable of closing the prison, why not take this to Him? I think He could wrap this up in a nice little package for us,” Webber persists.

  I think about what he said to me before I was dismissed. That there might be more work for me to do, and He’s not through with me. “Maybe He’s using us to do just that,” I say, and Michaela smiles and nods.

  “How did you even find it?” I ask.

  She sighs. “Normally, I don’t go past the gates. In both cases, guardians are there to collect the souls, be it heavenly angels or demons. When the guardians aren’t there for heaven, it’s not as big a deal. I just lead them through the gate and go. My last surprise was Kismet. And the guardians weren’t there,” she says sadly.

  “This last soul was different too, and not just because he was going to hell. No one showed up to take him either. He fought me, of course, but I wrestled him inside and offloaded him on one of the demons on the outskirts. After giving the gatekeeper a stern talking to, I turned to leave. I mean, we’re overwhelmed here. The last thing I need is for the guardians to not do their jobs.” She sighs, trying to compose herself. “Anyway, I’ve only been on the other side of the gates a few times. Once, when I first became a Reaper, they took us through hell to show us what happens to the humans there. They did the same thing for heaven. As a Reaper, empathy is important. So, anyway, I knew to expect the moaning, screaming, and crying. But something felt off. It was too loud considering it was so far from the belly of hell. So I followed the sound and found the prison.” She visibly shivers, as if what she saw there has affected her to her core.

  I’m devastated in a way I didn’t think was possible. The losses I experienced on Earth shattered me. But knowing my dear friends are tortured souls is so much worse. I fight the urge to let it overwhelm me. Now’s the time for action, and I let my anger kill my sadness and fuel the need to move, to do something.

  “I’m not sure what’s worse. The souls I saw trapped there or the empty shackles lined up on the walls. There were so many empties.” She pauses and looks up at me, her eyes filled with a fear so basic, it gives me chills. “This isn’t over, Penn. Not by a long shot.”

  We stare at each other for a few moments when Michaela jumps a little. “I almost forgot.” She pulls a letter and a small package from a pocket I didn’t know her dress had. “It’s from Fia. I really like her,” Michaela says with a smile.

  Penn,

  I’m so glad Michaela found you. Didn’t I tell you she would? We are all fine here on Earth. Cedric is reluctantly carrying on. You actually inspired him to hire a designer. He says she’s not nearly as good as you, but she’s good in her own way. Aida and Cody have welcomed me into their circle, and I’ve assured them all you are well. I told them you’re just off sowing your wild oats, or licking your wounds. I forget which one. At any rate, please, do not worry about us.

  Now is the time to focus on the task at hand. There’s more at stake here than just a few lives. I can feel it. The winds are changing, Penn. Keep them at your back, or you’ll be swept away, and the rest of us will follow.

  Although my fate is here on Earth, a place I know you hold near and dear to your heart as much as I do, Fate has something bigger in store for you. I’m sure of it.

  Enjoy a cookie from Aida. You’re lucky I didn’t eat it. She did send a whole batch for you, but some of them got lost in transit. Hopefully, Michaela has better luck with the delivery process. They are delicious.

  All my best.

  —Fia

  I shake my head. It’s the perfect mix of sarcasm, comfort, and advice. Perfectly Fia.

  Just as I’m enjoying the cookie and rereading her note again, Horatia bursts into the room and grabs me in a big bear hug. I return the hug and spin her around.

  “I thought I’d never see you again,” she says through tears.

  “Me too.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” she asks, always ready to take action.

  “To save Kismet and the others,” I answer.

  We stand in a circle looking at each other, five heavenly beings not sure of the future. Are we enough to save her and all of humanity from their fates?

  Michaela takes my right hand, and Galenia takes my left. Surprisingly, even Webber joins in.

  “So now what? We sing Kumbaya?” Webber asks.

  We all chuckle. I don’t know if we’ll be enough to save my world. But I know we’ll either succeed or die trying. And that’s more than enough for me.

  Names

  Abaddon: Destruction. Notorious Watcher

  Aida: Helper. Cody’s wife and brother to Cedric.

  Amedia: Brazen or shameless. Aida’s sister.

  Andrew: Warrior or strength. Kismet’s true love.

  Cassandra: Prophetess. Kareena’s doll.

  Cedric: War leader or gift of splendor. Aida’s brother and owner of Feldman’s Bridal.

  Pearl: Precious stone. One of the names that pops up while Penn is with the Reapers.

  Cody: Helpful. Aida’s husband, who helps Penn out of the swamp.

  Columbus: Curious. Cody and Aida’s only boy.

  Eve: Lively or life. Cody and Aida’s oldest (and first) daughter.

  Fia: Weaver. The woman that Penn replaced as Spinner.

  Frederico: Peaceful. One of the names that pops up while Penn is with the Reapers.

  Galenia: Small and intelligent. The third Fate who decides how a life will end.

  Horatia: Timekeeper. The second Fate who decides how long a life will be.

  Jeff: Peaceful. One of the names that pops up while Penn is with the Reapers.

  Kareena: Innocent and pure. Cody and Aida’s youngest daughter.

  Kismet: Destiny. Andrew’s true love.

  Marshal: From the marsh. The airboat driver.

  Michaela: Feminine of Michael, the angel of death. The Reaper.

  Nysa: New beginning. The first surprise name, the first to have her thread cut short.

  Penn: Masculine form of Penelope, meaning Weaver. First of the three Fates, the Spinner.

  Sandi: Defender or helper. The waitress who takes over Kismet’s tables when Penn arrives at the diner.

  Shiloh: Hebrew name meaning “the one to whom it belongs.” The young boy Nysa cares for before she dies.

  Webber: Weaver. Penn’s rival who’s promoted to Spinner when Penn is banished.

  *Meanings found using basic Google searches and MeaningofNames.com*

  Acknowledgments

  A brand-new series. After working on Unseen for so long, it’s alternately fun and terrifying to start a new series. But of course, I didn’t do it on my own.

  First of all, thanks always go to God. I can’t believe I’ve been so blessed as to pursue my dream this way. Writing is something I’ve wanted to do since I was in third grade. This is my seventh published book, and I still can’t believe it. Thank You so much for letting this be my life. I am forever grateful.

  This book is exciting for my husband and me as we push harder and harder to make this venture successful by our standards. My rock never fails to be endlessly supportive, and constantly come up with new ways to get out there and be seen. Hon, I have lifelong feelings of affection for you.

  My editors worked harder than ever to make this turd shine, and I love them for it. Angela and Cyn
thia, you guys are amazing. Thank you so much for pouring yourselves, your time, and your efforts, into me and my books—no matter how annoying I can be with my questions about POV and tiny tweaks to my synopsis. You’re worth your weight in gold, and chocolate. So. Much. Chocolate.

  My friends and family are my constant cheerleaders. They listen to me panic when things start crumbling, and they listen to my excited chatter about some new plot twist they don’t even understand because they haven’t read the book yet (because I’m still writing it). I’m a lot to take. I’m loud, active, overbearing, tactless, and a bit of a tornado when I get riled up. And somehow, I still have all these people who fiercely love me. Thanks guys. I certainly couldn’t do this without you. (Mom, that means you…and Dad too, since he’ll be mad I mentioned you and not him.)

  Lastly, my deepest thanks to you, dear reader. As my daughter, my husband and I get older, I’ve come to value my time more and more. And you have chosen to spend yours with me. I will be forever grateful for that. I hope you enjoyed yourself as much as I did.

  Until next time, happy reading, and I’ll see you in March.

  —S

  The Reaper

  By: Stephanie Erickson

  Reap what you sow, dear reader.

  1

  “The humans are fragile, and therefore must be handled with care. To effectively help them transition from their world to the next, the Reaper must know when to use a gentle touch, and when to use a firm hand.”

  —Mortem, Section 1, Paragraph 1: On Reapers

  The mists between our worlds are thick and tempestuous today, and given all the rules I’ve just broken, it seems like an ominous sign. Even though I’ve already traveled back and forth through the mists several hundred times, I can’t afford to lose my concentration yet, not when there’s one name left on my list. It’s time for me to head to Colorado to claim the soul of Dempsey Shellman. Still, I can’t deny my thoughts are more with my friend Penn, the banished Fate, than they are with poor Dempsey.

  Before a human is born, the Fates determine what type of person he will be, how long he will live, and how he will die. His path is set out before him, and he cannot divert from it. So, while being a Reaper is not exactly easy, it is usually predictable. We only take souls that are, literally, at the end of their rope… or, well, the end of the thread the Spinner has created for them. But not long ago, surprises started popping up on our lists. Souls who weren’t supposed to take the journey to the afterlife for decades were showing up without apparent reason.

  It’s an anomaly the Reapers have no idea how to stop, which is why I have risked Penn’s very existence by cutting his banishment short. We need all the help we can get, and I’m not sure I can figure this out without him. Despite the fact that he was banished for the distractions his love for a human created, he’s still the greatest Fate in history. It’s that connection to the human that will drive him to help me figure out what’s happening, and why she and the others ended up dying before their time.

  I shake my head in an attempt to clear it. Dwelling on the surprise deaths won’t help me get Dempsey where he needs to go. I will deal with the mystery later, once the workday is over.

  As the mists clear on a busy downtown street in Denver, I’m left standing in front of a ten-story office building. The sun is gloriously warm on my skin, but the air still has a bit of a chill to it, making the sun feel even more welcome on this lovely spring day. I take in a deep breath, letting myself enjoy the scent of the clean mountain air, all the more delightful because it’s in the middle of the city.

  The building is modern on the inside, decorated in greys and blacks with a few red accent pieces—a rug here, an abstract painting there. I stride across the lobby, unnoticed by the receptionist and the people milling about, and board the elevator just as a few others are getting off. Happily, someone else on this floor happens to be going up to the eighth floor as well. That’s where I know I’ll find him. The man reaches out and presses the button for eight, paying me no mind.

  His office is along the back wall, with a maze of cubicles in the center of the large room. He’s one of the only people with actual walls and windows. The sounds of frantic clicking and typing, phones ringing, and hushed conversation follow me as I make my way across the floor. Not one person looks up from their work to look at me, nor should they. I’m not here for them.

  One woman who’s on the phone looks up just as I walk past her cubicle. She stares right at me, but her vacant expression confirms that she doesn’t see me. I often wonder what makes some humans look up as I pass them, while others don’t react to my presence at all. Do I create a gentle breeze? Are some humans simply more attuned to our world? It’s a question that may never be answered. The woman goes back to her conversation, and I keep walking to the back of the floor, making my way toward my quarry.

  When I walk into his office, the middle-aged man I’ve come to collect is yelling at a young woman. Dempsey Shellman is a big man, overweight and balding. Despite the fact that he’s visibly sweating, not to mention spitting with every word he yells, he’s intimidating. He’s still wearing his black suit coat, which isn’t helping his sweat situation. The woman, who’s probably half his age, stands there listening to him. She writes down any instructions she can pick out between his insults, but I can tell she’s on the verge of tears. Her hatred for the man radiates from her.

  “Dempsey,” I say to the man. “It’s time to go.”

  He clears his throat and pounds his chest a little, ignoring me. I know I will win in the end—I always do—so I wait patiently. He will struggle, and it won’t be pretty for this young girl. I want her to leave. But she stands there without flinching.

  “I don’t know who you slept with to get your job, but you are the most worthless assistant I’ve ever…” He trails off, his breath coming in short gasps now. Bracing himself on the desk with one hand, he grabs his chest with the other.

  “Mr. Shellman?” the young woman asks, clearly unsure of what’s happening.

  “Are you ready now?” I ask.

  Finally, he looks at me. His face has lost its color, and his eyes are filled with terror. I attempt to calm him.

  “My name is Michaela. I’m a Reaper. I’m here to take you home.” The mists are gathering behind me, telling me it’s time to go, and I gesture toward it, trying to show him. The breeze from it ruffles my black-and-white gown, tossing my long, blonde hair around my face. Some of the humans I collect mistake me for an angel, but there’s one key difference—I don’t have wings.

  The man still doesn’t respond. He slumps in his chair before sliding grotesquely to the ground. The poor girl screams and runs out of Dempsey’s office, calling for help as she goes. But it’s his time, and he’s beyond their help. His soul, a carbon copy of his body, looks back as it raises from his Earthly self. They don’t all look back, but I can tell this one is very rooted in the world—taking him will be a struggle. He’s a lot larger than I am, and I can only hope it’s not the black gate that appears for him. But based on what little I’ve seen of him, let’s just say I’m a bit concerned.

  If he has questions, he doesn’t vocalize them. As I wait for him to join me, it occurs to me that I will not be very efficient today. This one will be time consuming, but that’s okay. Some people need more of me than others do. It’s all part of the job. Reapers are trained to be exactly what the humans we collect need us to be.

  While I wait for him to come to terms with his fate, people rush into the office and try to help.

  “He’s not breathing,” one man says. They start pounding on his chest while the young girl—Dempsey’s assistant—stands in the doorway watching, relaying information to a person she’s talking to on her cell phone. Probably a 911 operator.

  “He just grabbed his chest and slumped over,” she says. “They said he’s not breathing.” Pause. “Okay.”

  A few others crowd along the walls of the office, not sure what to do. A man and a woman le
an toward each other to speculate on what happened. “Think it was a heart attack?” the man asks.

  “I’m not sure. Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asks. It’s hard to tell from their short exchange, but it sounds like she’s more upset by the horror of what’s happened than by the fact that it’s happened to Dempsey.

  “He looks a little blue,” the man says as he shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable. He leans in a little closer to the woman. Their coworkers can’t hear him now, but we can. “I won’t lie. I’ve been hoping he would leave. God, we all were… just not this way. I didn’t want the S.O.B. to die.”

  Confusion blooms on Dempsey’s face. He’s only now realizing how much they hate him. It’s sad, really—especially now that he can’t hope to change things for the better—and I reach out my hand to him.

  “Come, Dempsey. There’s nothing more for you to see here.”

  Stoically, he nods his head and walks toward me. He resists holding my hand though, which is problematic. His only way through the mists is with me, and I can’t leave him here. If I do, he’ll become a ghost—doomed to wander the Earth forever. The few ghosts I’ve had to leave behind over the centuries still haunt me in their own way. No matter how bleak a human’s soul, I won’t leave one behind if I can help it.

  “You need to hold my hand. It’s the only way through the mists,” I tell him.

  Dempsey looks at me with disgust, like holding my hand is the most deplorable thing he’s ever been asked to do. I take a deep breath, reminding myself to be what he needs. And right now, he needs to make the journey between worlds safely.

  Because he is so attached to the Earth, I resist telling him what will happen to him if he doesn’t take my hand. I just stand there, waiting for him to decide. Fortunately, he takes my hand on his own, and we begin to walk through the mists, which closes in around us with every step. He looks back several times, trying desperately to hang on to that life—to the power and position he clearly attained. But I keep him moving forward, one step at a time.