Page 24 of Reaper's Ruin
“You can see us?” Soraya asked, stepping forward.
The young woman jumped slightly, her grip tightening on the knife. “I—yes. Barely. You’re like... shadows. Echoes.” Her gaze turned to me, and her eyes widened further then narrowed as if she was focusing on seeing us more clearly. “Ah, there. I can see you both better now. You. You’re—you’re a Reaper.”
Her eyes had that unmistakable glimmer of her fae heritage, and I had to stop myself from snarling at her. But now wasn’t the time for centuries long blood grudges. Right now, though I hated to admit it, I needed a fae’s help.
I nodded. “My name is Rhyker.” I glanced past her into the cottage. “I’m looking for the sorceress of the Sylvan Court.”
“That would be me,” she said, lifting her chin slightly as if expecting a challenge.
I frowned. “No, that’s not possible. I met the sorceress decades ago—a woman named Luainia.”
The young woman’s face fell, grief flickering across her features before she composed herself. “Luainia was my mother. She... passed away unexpectedly four years ago.”
“Your mother?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Then you’re...”
“I’m Selyse,” she said. “The sorceress of the Sylvan Court.” Something vulnerable flashed in her eyes. “Like my mother before me.”
“You’re so young,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her expression hardened. “I am old enough to bear the responsibility. The power of my bloodline chooses when it must, not when it’s convenient.” She stepped back, still holding the knife. “Now tell me why a Reaper has come to my door. Have you come for me? You have no power here in the living realm.”
“No,” I said quickly. “We seekyour help.”
The girl’s gaze shifted to Soraya, confusion evident in her expression. “And who is she?”
“My name is Soraya,” she offered, her voice gentle. “I’m... well, I’m dead. But I’m stuck. I’m in the wrong realm I think, and I can’t find my door. You’re the only person we know that can see us, and we need your help figuring out what’s gone wrong.”
“I see.” Selyse’s brow furrowed as she looked between us, then she pinched her lips and gave a soft nod. “Well, I guess you should come inside,” she said after a moment.
She turned and walked back into the cottage, leaving the door open. I glanced at Soraya, who shrugged, and we followed, passing through the door and into the small, single-room dwelling.
The interior was cluttered but clean, filled with dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, shelves lined with jars and books, and a hearth where a small fire crackled. Though I couldn’t smell, lingering memories of my old life had me imagining scents of green growing things and sweet smoke from the hearth.
Selyse placed her knife on a table and turned to face us. After one last look at me, seeming to survey me as friend or foe, she crossed her arms and said, “So, tell me everything.”
“Soraya is a human soul from the Mortal Realm,” I began. “She died recently, but instead of finding her door to the afterlife, she appeared in Faelora.”
“And not just that,” Soraya jumped in. “But I was jumping all over the place. Like disappearing and reappearing every time something scared me.” She glanced at me. “Like the Reapers trying to get me. I would just ‘poof’ away. I even ended up back at my house in the Mortal Realm for a time.”
Selyse furrowed her brow. “But that’s... impossible.”
Soraya nodded. “That’s what he says too, but apparently it is possible because I’m doing it. But I don’t know how. One minute I’m here, the next I’m back in the Mortal Realm, then somewhereelse in Faelora. I can’t control it. Hell, for all I know I’m going to poof away at any second.” She furrowed her brow then smiled. “Hey! I just realized this is the longest stretch I’ve gone without it happening. Maybe because I’m not as scared anymore? Without you hunting me, I can stop and settle?”
Selyse looked at me, judgement flooding her eyes. “You were hunting her?”
“I was sent to reap her,” I quickly said. “As you know, it is the duty of all Reapers to remove stuck spirits from your world, so they don’t cause problems for the living. We keep the balance between the living and the dead. But when I finally caught up with her, I discovered she hasn’t had time to find peace. She only just realized she was dead. My duty is to reap the souls who won’t move on. She hasn’t had the chance yet, and now I’m trying to help her figure out how to get her door, so I don’t have to—”
I let the words I didn’t finish saying hang there, hating the fear that bloomed in Soraya’s eyes at the thought.
Selyse’s expression softened slightly. “I see.” She moved to a chair by the hearth, sitting down. “And you want me to... what? Help her find her door?”
“If possible,” I said. “She deserves her chance. I’ve never experienced anything like this in all of my centuries, and I can’t say I have any idea how to proceed. With your knowledge of the living and the dead, we hoped you may have some insight. Or, I guess it was your mother I thought may have some insight.”
Selyse let out a long breath. “Honestly? You’re right. She probably would have. She had vastly more experience with this stuff than me. She passed suddenly, and I didn’t get a chance to learn everything I was supposed to know. So, I’m sorry to say I don’t have any ideas how to summon a door or help her move on.”
Soraya stepped closer to the sorceress, her composure suddenly cracking. “Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “I need to findmy door. I need to find my mother—she was murdered too. She wasn’t just my mother. She was my best friend. My everything.” Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “We were killed together, and now I don’t know where she is. If she found her door and moved on without me...”
Her voice dissolved into a sob, her shoulders shaking. “I can’t—I can’t just cease to exist. If he has to reap me because I can’t find my peace, I’ll never see her again. I’ll just be... nothing.” She looked up at Selyse, raw desperation in her eyes. “Please. I’d do anything to see my mom again.”
