Page 8 of Reaper's Quest

Superior Grim continued to scan the room and stopped on a balding guy sitting in the front row, on the right side of the auditorium. One of the elders due to soon transfer. “Mr. Aldine.”

The reaper’s head jerked forward, as if from slumber. He wiped a smidgin of drool from the edge of his mouth as he turned his head toward the podium, bringing his profile into clear view.

Superior Grim stepped away from the podium, crossed the room, and handed Mr. Aldine the folder. “You shall accompany Ms. Gunn and Mr. Badden in a chaperone-tutor capacity. Happy hunting.”

“Sensational,” Chace mumbled, the word dripping with sarcasm.

Knowing nothing about Mr. Aldine, other than he clearly had many years under his belt, I studied him and the folder he held.

Superior Grim returned to the podium and the task of handing out assignments.

Mr. Aldine stood and climbed the stairs to our location, his features tight, his lips flat and white. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of the folder.

He stopped at the end of our row and glared at us.“Way to get us all killed, underlings.”

3

Chace leaped from his seat.

“Killed? We’re reapers. We can’t die.” He peered down at himself then stole a quick glance at me. “At least,Ican’t die this young and good-looking.”

His grin kicked all the way up, exposing a dimple on his right cheek.

Had I been in a better mood, I would have rolled my eyes. Possibly faked a gag. But as things currently stood, I gripped the seat cushion on either side of my legs.

I understood where Chace was coming from, but a few stories mentioned reapers themselves getting claimed. Reaped by one called a Killian…or The Killian.

I uncurled from my seat and turned my full attention to Mr. Aldine, trying not to fixate on the shine upon his bald head. “Is this place we’ve been tasked really that bad?”

Mr. Aldine’s expression darkened as he rubbed his salt-and-pepper beard with a trembling hand.

He puckered his lower lip. “We’ll need whatever skills and luck you both bring to the task and then some.”

I surveyed our fellow classmates, my chest tight. So many members of various ages, expertise, and wisdom. Each one of them collected their assignments and filed out the double doors. The body count in the large lecture hall declined rapidly by the second.

I referenced the surrounding group with a swoop of my hand. “Compared to many others, Chace and I are relatively inexperienced.”

“Speak for yourself, Ruthless Raven.” Chace nudged my foot with the tip of his boot.

The irritating nickname stabbed me in the gut. The desire to kick him in the leg spiked. For a millisecond, I considered showing him all the tricks and tactics I’d learned in reaper combat class.

Instead, I ignored him. “If this assignment is as dangerous and difficult as you’ve led us to believe, then why did Superior Grim assign it to us?”

Two reapers likely to fight and try to outdo one another during the entire task.

“A lesson, possibly.” Mr. Aldine shrugged and splayed his fingers in dramatic fashion. He shifted his focus between us and Superior Grim, the slightest flicker of uncertainty—possibly fear—in his expression. “Or a test of your families.”

For the first time in a long time, I wished I came from one of the lesser known families. One that didn’t come with towering expectations pressed upon them from before their firstreap.

Amongst the clatter of exiting attendants, a rumble of shrieks rose in the vicinity of the doorway, and three crows flew into the lecture hall, each with a letter grasped in their claws.

Yelping, fellow reapers ducked and threw their hands up as shields. The birds circled the ceiling, cawing and cooing as they scanned all those present. Upon making eye contact, a crow swerved and headed toward me as the other two dove for Chace and Mr. Aldine.

Crow delivery. An impression was definitely being made. And I couldn’t help but think it was a bad omen.

The birds dropped their cargo upon the three of us, and one of the flying creatures cawed directly at me. Then they all flew straight from the room.

How random was the assignment if someone sent crow-delivered messages? And so soon after the task was given? The letters might not have been personalized, but the crows had singled the three of us out for a reason.