Page 25 of Reaper's Quest

“As in dues owed?” the guard asked, a chuckle dancing within his delivery.

I blinked. The use of the wordduescould reference manythings, including and beyond the souls my team hoped to transition.

Chace made no effort to hide his smirk as he whispered, “So much for rule number five and anonymity.”

“He did not name us specifically,” Mr. Aldine murmured. “Nothing the guard said suggests he one hundred percent knows who or what we are.”

I shifted my attention from Chace to our elder. “Mr. Aldine?”

He shook his head. “After all this citadel has been through, it makes sense they would be familiar with collectors of various origins who have likely come knocking. Our kind, of course, would never divulge the type of collection sought. But there are others?”

“Your kind have tried to enter, and they have all failed in some form or another,” the uniformed guard announced. “I recommend you toss your written request through the barrier, and I shall see that it makes its way into the hands of our Minister of Coin. Not that you, or anyone, should expect payment anytime soon.”

Chace barked a laugh. “He thinks we’re tax collectors or the like. As if we look the part.”

He delivered his comment so as not to be heard at the far end of the bridge.

Mr. Aldine nodded, his gaze giving him the look of an individual lost in thought.

I pressed my lips into a tight pucker.

“But toss your request far and hard,” the guard continued. “For the barrier is thick and wicked.”

The idea that the three of us had been sent on animpossible task, one we were meant to fail, sank roots deep into the inner workings of my mind.

Sighing, I allowed a frown to rule my expression.

Under the circumstances, the idea of the citadel being behind ineverytype of payment made sense. But the notion that a place clearly under cursed duress continued to be nagged about their taxes when no obvious help had been imparted?unconscionable. The authoritative stance of all take and no give twisted my gut in all the wrong ways.

The plain-clothed guy on the opposite side of the bridge mumbled something to the guard. The guard shook his head, pointed to a high point on the wall, then pushed the guy back several steps.

My attention immediately swung to the wall, scouring stone after stone until…

A rudimentary monitoring system.

Someone watched everything at the citadel’s gate. Could the surveillance be the first clue to my first question: was this barrier meant to keep people out, or keep them in?

A heavy weight dropped in my chest. No matter what the answer turned out to be, I suspected I would not like it.

“Like I said,” the guard hollered. “You may leave your request for the Minister of Coin. Then I suggest you all turn around and go back where you came from.”

“I actually wouldn’t mind that,” I mumbled.

“As if we could,” Chace replied.

An involuntary smile tugged at the edges of my lips. I didn’t know why it mattered, but comfort bloomed from knowing I was not alone in my current misery. Even if the other miserable individual happened to be Chace Badden.

The guy in common attire, on the other side of themagical barrier, repositioned himself beside a wooden door set within the larger main gate. “You can cross the bridge if you want, but my buddy is right. Those who cross are rarely satisfied with the results.”

He yanked open the door and feigned surprise as someone darted past him onto the bridge. “Oops.”

With a theatrical show of hands, he stepped through the open doorway into the citadel and disappeared behind a small crowd of people waiting to pour free.

“What have you done?” The guard raced to the open door and began shoving the people back inside while trying to return the door to its closed position.

The first person to dart free of the wall hurried in our direction at an awkward run. Small and wrapped in undefined garments, identifying them as male, female, or something else bordered on difficult.

With each step closer, they chanted over and over, “Freedom. Freedom. Freedom.”