This is the first chapter of a potential new novel I've gotten a bit stalled on. What do you guys think - is it worth continuing?
000
Chapter 1:
Inauspicious Stars
The one
problem with being the mysterious answer to everyone’s prayers is that you had
to dress the part.
Jess nodded
at the assembled townspeople, annoyed at every chilled breeze that snuck in and
around the weak protection of her cloak. A coat would have been far more
effective, but those were much harder to sweep aside dramatically at key
moments.
Like right
now.
Flinging
the fabric back in a bold, theatrical gesture she’d spent a week practicing,
she opened the instrument case strapped to her chest and pulled out a slender,
wooden pipe polished to a high, attention-grabbing sheen. Then she straightened
her spine, lifted her chin, and swept her gaze over the small group of civic
leaders who had been kept from their beds to make sure she did the job
properly. “Ready?”
Her
audience sized her up, much as they had done in the council meeting earlier
where she'd made her initial offer. She was undoubtedly younger than they'd
like – though she was certain they were estimating at least a few years older
than her real age of 17 – but her cap of dark hair was well-ordered and her
features just exotic enough to give her an air of mystery.
To top it
off, she was wearing a purple velvet top and leggings edged in silver piping.
It was a ridiculous outfit – she kept it solely for jobs like this – but it
looked far more expensive than anything they were wearing.
People paid
far more attention to that than they did her face.
One
of the council members, a portly woman with her collar buttoned all the way to
her chin, raised a hand. “We’ll be able to see if this is actually working,
right?”
Jess
resisted the urge to sigh. This was why she did it this way in the first place,
rather than the much more sensible route of simply standing on the opposite
side of the trench currently waiting on the other end of town. The people
needed the show. “Oh, you’ll definitely be able to see it.” She began walking,
hoping to forestall any more stupid questions. “Follow me, ladies and
gentlemen. Remember, I will not be able to stop or speak until all the rats are
dead.”
Then she
put the pipe to her lips and blew the first clean, clear note.
Despite the
impression she liked to give people, this wasn’t the moment when the magic
started to happen. She still played pubs and street corners during the lean
months and calling rats in the middle of every song would put a damper on tips.
Jess
transitioned the note into a simple pub tune that she could play in her sleep
by this point, then let her gaze go glassy as she shifted her focus to deep
inside herself. She’d gotten good at pretending this was easy, but it took far
more concentration than even the most complicated, demanding song she’d ever
played.
Almost … almost….
There.
She could
practically feel the click as her power kicked in, felt the notes spilling out
of her little pipe vibrate with a frequency that refused to sit still so it
could be properly heard. As far as she could tell, no one without this
particular talent could tell there’d been any change at all, though she’d had a
musician or two give her narrow-eyed looks as if they knew something was
escaping them.
Behind her,
a few of the less patient souls were getting restless. “What if this is all
just a trick?” one man muttered, apparently assuming that she’d gone deaf the
moment she’d put the pipe to her lips. "She told us we could see it work,
but so far the only thing that's happened...."
The man's
voice trailed off as he finally noticed the faint scrabbling sound behind them.
Then came
the gasps, the sound blending in with the notes she was playing. She'd segued
into a more complicated song by this point, the grand entrance music used by a
theater troupe she'd worked with as a child, and she turned around and risked
walking backwards for a few steps so she could properly appreciate the effect.
Rats. Only
20 or so at this point – the night was young – with more hurrying to join the
parade with every step they took. They'd climbed out of kitchens and larders
and holes in the wall, lips silent and eyes glassy with the need to follow Jess
wherever she went. By the time they'd made it through the city, there might be
a hundred or more.
"Magic,"
the mayor breathed, awe and just a little bit of fear in his voice. For the
rest of the walk, there wasn't another peep from the town leaders.
It didn't
feel like a very long walk before they'd made it to the other end of town, an
empty field with a trench on the other side. As soon as they got into view, a
farmer ignited the trench and set the dry brush inside it ablaze.
Here, the
mayor and his council were no longer so interested in following her, hanging
back while she and her rats headed for the trench. There was a thin bridge
across it, always made of something suitably non-flammable, and after she
crossed it she'd kick it into the trench and keep playing. The rats always
followed.
Jess was
halfway across when she heard the crack, somehow a thousand times louder than
the notes she was playing. Her stomach dropped as she felt the bridge give way,
the fire blazing under her feet, but all she had to do was take a few more
steps and she'd be—
A huge,
shadowy figure loomed in front of her, cutting off her exit. The music faltered
for the first time as she stared at it, a patch of darkness with a few faint
hints that might have been a bony face. She took a step away from it without
realizing she'd done it, back toward the fire and the crumbling bridge some
idiot had made out of wood, she
hadn't checked because she'd just
assumed no one was that stupid, and her last thought was horror that her
subconscious had picked such a clichéd image to come to terms with the fact
that she was about to d—
Someone
grabbed her, and she fell forward onto the dirt on the opposite side of the
trench.
But no, it wasn't
dirt, because as they hit the empty space she'd been about to land on
transformed into a teenage boy, the thick glasses he was wearing making his
eyes look huge. They stared at each other for a few breathless seconds, both of
them clearly clueless about what to do next, then there was the sound of
running feet in the distance and what definitely sounded like a curse word
coming from the empty space above her head.
There was a
swishing sound, then they were gone.
000
They
reappeared in a grove of trees, and Jess and the boy immediately scrambled away
from each other. A third person appeared a moment later, a middle-aged man with
a nametag pinned to his shirt and the pained expression of someone who can’t
understand the incompetence going on around him. He turned a fierce glare on
the teenager. “What did you think you were doing?”
The boy
hurriedly got to his feet, pushing his sandy-colored hair out of his eyes as he
shoved his glasses back up his nose. Jess noticed that he, too, was wearing a
nametag, though she couldn't quite make out the words on it from here. “She was
right there." Frustration
flashed in his eyes. “She probably would have just walked off the bridge if you
hadn’t been standing where you were.”
Jess winced internally as she saw the older man’s face go
red. Even though the kid had been absolutely right, no one in charge liked to
be told something was their fault. Unless you were offering a way to make the
problem go away, it was always best to lay the blame on a third party somewhere
conveniently far away. "If
she hadn't been about to die, she wouldn't have shown up on my monitor!"
the older man snapped. "Your only
duty, Mr.—" a quick glance at the younger man's nametag "—Abernathy,
is to focus on your job. You are there for one reason and one reason only, to
reap the souls of the dead so they can properly move onto the afterlife."
Jess
listened, hand still tight on her pipe as she filed the information away for
future reference. Apparently, her foster mother had been right – there really
were employment opportunities everywhere you looked. Though she wasn't really
thrilled with the fact that these guys were apparently sneaking around
invisible unless you were about to die....
"But
she didn't have to—"
"That
doesn't matter. Besides, I'm quite
certain you weren't there for the girl at all. There is no way the main office
would authorize someone as young as you to be a human reaper."
For the
first time, something that might have been guilt flashed across young Mr.
Abernathy's face. "The rats."
"The
rats! Who, as you well know, are now scuttling around that field as tiny,
confused rodent ghosts because someone
didn't...."
The man
kept talking, but Jess was no longer paying attention. She had disappeared in
the middle of a job – one she was
definitely going to make sure she got paid extra for, given the bit where
they'd nearly killed her – and she needed to get back there before they decided
she was pulling a con. She'd already have to sweet-talk them into not caring
that she'd have to go through a second round to re-gather the rest of the rats,
and the longer she took to come back the more work it was going to be. People
panicked more easily than the rats did, sometimes.
Jess
hurriedly scrambled to her own feet, breathing a sigh of relief when she caught
sight of flames through the trees. That was probably the trench, which meant
the older man had simply transported them to the patch of forest near the field
so he could have privacy to chew out his subordinate. It would be easy to slip
away before the other two even noticed....
She'd
slipped into the nearest patch of shadow when her traitorous ears chose to tune
back into the older man's litany of complaints. "...rest assured, Mr.
Abernathy, I'll have to file a report with your supervisor. It won't be
pretty..."
Jess
stopped moving. He saved your life, you
know, her mind whispered.
She tried
to force her feet to move forward, cursing the strange tugging sensation inside
her chest that kept trying to make her turn around. I seriously don't have time for this.
You'd have even less time for it if
you were dead. Which you're not, thanks to the poor kid who's about to get in
trouble for making sure you're still breathing.
"...I
know you think you were a hero, but behavior like that undermines the sacred
responsibility of every reaper..."
Reluctantly,
Jess turned around. The teen's shoulders were still square, clearly not caved
by anything the older man said, but there was a resigned look in his eyes that
meant he'd given up fighting. Like he wasn't surprised that this was his only
reward for being a hero.
If you were over there, you could sweet talk
his way out of this in five minutes or less. You wouldn't even break a sweat.
He might not even want me to.
Before she'd even finished the thought, Jess knew it wasn't true. Jess knew the
look of someone who was completely alone in the world all too well.
"...You'll
be lucky if you keep your job, which you won’t if I have any say in the
matter...."
"Wait!"
Both the
older man and the young Mr. Abernathy whipped around at the sudden sound of
Jess's voice. Before either of them had the chance to speak, she strode back
into the clearing as if given a mission vital to the security of a kingdom.
"This young man is being a gentleman, but I'm afraid I can't let this
misunderstanding continue on any longer." She used the same tone she did
for her sales pitches, the one that rang with certainty no matter what nonsense
was coming out of her mouth. "He's not the one at fault here."
Their brows
furrowed at the same moment, the usual first reaction of the average mind when
told something that so obviously contradicted established reality. The key was
to keep talking.
Jess put on
her best "I'm so sorry for the trouble, officer" expression. "A
person's instinct for self-preservation is remarkable when they're near death,
as I'm sure you both know better than anyone." She nodded as she spoke, a
gesture the older man couldn't help but echo. An agreement, even if he didn't
consciously realize it. "I don't know where I found the energy, but in
that desperate moment as the bridge was collapsing under me I found myself
leaping towards the sure safety of the other side. This young man here just
happened to be in the way of that leap, which is why I fell on him. I saved my
own life, using him as an accidental assistant. He certainly didn't intend to
betray the sacred duty of the reapers, sir."
There was a
moment of perfect silence as she let that particular string of nonsense sink in
for a few seconds. The teen looked stunned, staring at Jess as if he couldn't
quite believe what she was doing. Either he was appalled at the ridiculousness
of the lie, or he was completely unprepared to have someone step in and help
him for once.
Either way,
she knew exactly how he felt.
The older
man was having more trouble processing. "But I saw—"
Interrupting
him was a calculated risk. "It was a confusing moment, sir. Everything was
a blur, fire and limbs everywhere.” She slid into the calm, sure tone of a
teacher explaining something to a student who didn’t yet understand. “But when
you're the one near death, your mind is clear as a bell."
He narrowed
his eyes at her, a hint of doubt flickering in his eyes. "Do you know Mr.
Abernathy, by any chance?"
"No,
sir," she said immediately, completely honest for the first time since
she'd opened her mouth. "I've never seen him before in my life."
The older man swung his gaze to the
teenager, wearing the furrowed brow of a man whose certainties were slipping
away from him. "If that's what really happened, why didn't you say
something?"
The teen blinked, clearly not having
expected to be included in the conversation, but rallied better than Jess
expected. "I was confused," he said quickly. "Like she said,
everything was a blur."
The older man sighed, then scrubbed
a hand across his face. "Fine. But I'd better never hear your name
connected to anything like this again, you understand me?"
The teen nodded.
"Understood."
The older man gestured back toward
the trench. "And I'd better see every single one of those rats properly
reaped, you understand me?"
Telling herself that he could take
it from here, Jess hurried through the trees toward the trench and the waiting
civic leaders. "I'm back!" she called out as soon as she cleared the
tree line, not waiting until they could see her before grabbing their
attention. "I've re-channeled my energies after that unfortunate little
brush with death, and I'm ready to wrap things up for a very reasonable
additional fee of thirty credit slips to compensate me for the fact that you
accidentally tried to kill me."
The assembled group, who had been
busy whispering loudly at one another, immediately snapped to attention at the
sound of her voice. “We didn’t try to kill you!” one of them called out, sounding
genuinely offended by the thought.
“You put a wood bridge up over a
trench full of fire, when I specifically
said something non-flammable.” She flashed a bright, humorless smile when she
got close enough that they could see her expression. Every one of them winced
or looked away. “Though remember, I did say accident. Mistakes happen to the
best of us.”
The buttoned-up woman took a step
forward. “How did you survive it?” she asked, notes of something that might
have been fear dancing under the surface of her voice.
Now, this was the tricky bit. The
mostly independent villages and towns that were a piper’s bread and butter
tended to spook easily. When they were truly afraid of you, being run out of
town with pitchforks and torches was the best-case scenario. At the same time,
it didn’t do to let the serious, responsible citizenry think they could push
you around or deny you your hard-earned payment for services rendered.
Jess waved a hand, as if discussing
something of no consequence. “Magic.”
They all stared at her for a few
beats of silence as both the word and the gesture soaked in, their minds
undoubtedly already spinning details to fill in the gaps. Rumors were
wonderfully useful in her line of work.
Finally,
the mayor sighed. “Fine. I’ll pay your ‘accident’ fee out of pocket as soon as
you finish dealing with the rest of the rats.”
Jess relaxed the small muscles in
her face that let the smile seem much more warm and natural. “Excellent. Let’s
get started.”
000
She stayed on the other side of the
trench this time, pouring a little more effort into the playing and letting the
rats come to her. When no more appeared Jess played a few more minutes, just to
be sure, then followed the mayor to his house and collected her additional fee.
When he grumbled, she smiled at him again.
Once that was done, the next step
was to find a stable to bunk down in for the rest of the night. She’d already
picked one out on her way into town, small but clean and occupied by a couple
of older horses that looked too tired to get uppity about a human sharing their
space. She should be there right now, in fact.
Instead, she was back in the empty
field, standing close to the still-smoldering trench and looking for a shadowy
figure she already knew she wouldn’t see. She'd already guessed that she'd only
seen the teenage boy and his supervisor like that at first because she'd been
about to die, exactly the kind of neat little trick that would keep the
majority of people from figuring out that the Grim Reaper was probably a guy
just trying to make his child support payments.
For that matter, the younger reaper
might not even be here. Jess had no idea how long reaping took, which meant he
could have very well finished the job before she'd even left the mayor's house.
He was probably home in bed right now, hoping that his next assignment kept him
far away from troublemaking pipers.
I
don't have time for this, either, she told herself. He's not even here.
Hey,
I'm not the one who dragged you back out into this field. This was all your
idea.
Jess sighed, remembering the
surprise on the teen's face when she'd stepped in to help him. "Thank you
for saving my life," she called out to what was undoubtedly empty air.
"I'm not used to having someone looking out for me like that."
The only response was silence.
Embarrassed, Jess shrugged her pack higher onto her shoulder and began walking
back to the stable. She had to have
burned through her allotment of guilt for the year, and if she didn't sleep
like a baby she was going to have stern words with—
"Me, either."
Jess whirled around at the sound of
the younger reaper's voice. He was standing only a few feet away from where
she'd been, caution in his eyes and hands half lifted as if he didn't know what
to do with them.
When she didn't say anything, he
cleared his throat and clarified. "I mean the way you talked Mr. Garrett
around. I'm not that good at lying – there's no way I could have sold a story
like that."
For a second, all she could do was
stare at him, caught off guard nearly as badly as she'd been with the bridge.
Seeing her expression, he looked embarrassed.
"Listen, I didn't mean ... It was a good lie, really."
That surprised a laugh out of Jess.
"It was a ludicrous lie. The only reason it worked at all is because I'm
an excellent liar."
His expression relaxed, a smile
slowly easing its way into existence. "I noticed."
Shaking herself back into her usual
composure, she held out a hand. "I'm Jess. Please tell me there's
something I can call you other than Mr. Abernathy."
His smile widened. "Thomas."
He shook her hand. "Thank you for saving my job."
"Least I could do." She
shifted, not sure what was going to happen next. It was an unusual feeling for
her. "I'm glad you were still here. Most people would be home in bed by
now."
"I don't really have a
bed." He shrugged. "I usually just find a stable somewhere when I'm
on shift."
Jess smiled back at him without even
entirely realizing she was doing it. "I know the perfect place."
