Reaper Academy: Book One

Chapter Seven: PLEASE REVIEW

CHAPTER SEVEN

Since the day of the attack, or as many now called it ‘the siege’ to Articus’s amusement, everyone was on edge.

Over the next few days, everyone walked in groups. Unfortunately for the Novices, they were all required to be escorted by a Reaper if any of them wanted to go anywhere. As for Articus, he became rather popular as the story of how he ‘single handedly took down three… no, four Darklings’ spread like wildfire. He even received a letter of thanks from the Head Mistress herself.

Celia, who had started distancing herself from him, hadn’t asked him to lunch in days. On top of his mentor’s sudden moodiness, Articus had to lock himself in his room when he wasn’t in class--else random people would stop and ask him to retell the story for the umpteenth time. All and all, he was alone.

Classes continued as they had been and, if it hadn’t been for Advance Combat, he would have left Tekal. One by one all the Novices started ‘feeling like a river’ until it was only Articus who had to sit by the damn feather. He had long given up on the ‘river’ and would just listen to his friends’ lessons.

When the loon noticed that he wasn’t trying anymore, she moved him. Articus, who had just learned how the da’kka could be used as an amplifier, protested all the way to the corner. With the damn feather.

It was on the third day when Articus started seeing the flows of spirit. He’d see strands of green snaking their way wildly around the pavilion--the source of it was uaually from a frantic looking novice. As much as he tried, though, he still couldn’t manipulate the flows. What frustrated him the most wasn’t that he couldn’t use his spirit, but the looks he got in the halls from the Reapers he passed to and from his classes. The novice who had single handedly taken down--was it ten Darklings now?--couldn’t lift a feather.

They all believed him to be powerful and they were all hard pressed to believe he couldn’t guide the flows. He blamed it on the damn ‘legend’. Yeah, by the fourth day he was a bloody legend.

His reprieve of the day, however, was Advance Combat. Having been drilled since the day he was able to hold a sword made the class an enjoyable two hours. Of course, having saved the teacher’s life didn’t hurt either.

The slowing down effect he had experienced the day the assassins attacked started occurring more and more frequently. It had gotten to the point where ‘normal speed’ was a rarity and, when it did happen, he felt like everything was happening at a dead run.

“Articus?”

Nina looked at him expectantly. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t realized she had asked him a question. It was their free day and Articus had agreed to breakfast with Nina after their work out. They were on his balcony, watching the sun rise over the tree line, a tradition of sorts.

“Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”

“I said Waylon and Cedrick made out for Bower City this morning. They wanted to meet us for lunch at a tavern called Pier Seven. Since the Head Mistress has agreed to let us go out without being escorted…I was thinking we had plenty of time to do our own exploring before then.”

Tekal had been built on a hill and, at the very foot of the palace, was Bower City. Tekal and Bower City were nestled between two mountain ranges that formed a valley. Because of the mountain ranges, the valley was completely closed off--all except for where Boco Bay rested. The bay itself was almost closed off by two enormous cliffs that loomed protectively at its mouth. Beyond the cliffs was the open sea, the only way into Tekal without the aide of a portal. A giant steel gate, supported by the two cliffs, stood high above the bay’s mouth, allowing ships to pass through. Only once in Bower’s history had the gate been shut: during the Darkling Wars.

Articus had seen Bower City and Boco Bay for the first time from Cedrick’s room. The man’s panoramic view of the city from his balcony was breathtaking. They had all dinned the past few nights there, trying to picture what the city would be like.

Now it was their free day and everyone had gone out early to explore with their weekly allowances. Articus had been shocked when he learned that the purse he’d found in his dresser was given to all the Novices weekly.

Nina had insisted on continuing her lessons that morning but, while she was almost done with her hand to hand training, Articus had wanted to go out exploring with everyone else. Nina had won, of course. She could bully him into anything if she set her mind to it. She had, unexpectedly, become like a sister to him.

“Sounds like a plan. Aren’t Cedrick and Waylon becoming real friendly all of a sudden?” Articus asked curiously. Dylon, who was normally with Cedrick, had started appearing at his door. The man was entertaining at times but he wanted Dylon in small doses.

“Cedrick won’t tell me what they talk about but I’d bet my dowry that it’s not about the weather.”

Nina frowned at her glass of water.

“Who’s chasing who?” Articus muttered into his own glass before taking a sip. Nina glared at him.



The walk from Tekal to Bower City was short and enjoyable. The weather in the north was nothing like the Empire. Articus half expected the humid heat of the Empire when he rose from bed every morning but the days only seem to get colder.

Bower City, an average sized city, was carefully built to give every building a view of the bay. The streets ran through the city like a spider web, the bay at it’s center. It was the buildings that caught Articus’s eye first. Along the main road that ran along the beach were low single story buildings. Each building a street over from the main road was a story larger, and every building after that, creating stairs all the way up to a six story building. The beach was equally as impressive. White as snow, the band of beach acted as a buffer between the main street and the bay. The closer he got to the beach, the bluer the water seemed to get. It made both Nina and Articus stop. The only thing that broke the continuous strip of sand was an enormous dock that must have stretched out a quarter of a league.

Along the main street were shops, restaurants, taverns, and a few inns. They were all trying to show the best view of the bay for their customers and the men who stood out in front of the stores claimed that they had it. Long unlit lantern poles dotted the street at every four spans and carefully etched grooves were carved into the cobblestone for wagons. Everything was designed to not only be symmetric and relaxing to the eye but functional.

Articus eyed the sun rising from behind the tallest building to the west. He could only imagine how it must look to eat at one of the restaurants atop the three story buildings at sunset.

The main road (they later learned everyone called it the Jewel) snaked from Tekal down to the bay and ran paralleled to the beach. As they walked, Articus spotted all types of people. Merchants, nobles, street performers, and sailors walked and white robed slaves from all nations walked the street in groups.

All around him he caught glimpses of men and women he’d seen in Tekal. Everyone was going somewhere or had something to do. Most of the people around him had the two daggers, marking them Reapers, and a few wore long robes of various colors. Noticing Articus’s interest in the robes, Nina told him they were mages and that the different colored robes signified their House.

Mages weren’t seen in Tekal often but he’d come to recognize ‘the type’ in Ce’l. The different colored robes were new to him though.

Watching the different shops go by, Articus thought of Mia.

“What does one normally give to--err one’s slave?” Articus asked over his shoulder.

He’d been with Nina long enough to recognize the ‘oh-southerners’ look.

“What?” He asked with an impatient sigh.

“Give? You don’t give slaves anything.”

Rolling his eyes he said, “Humor me.”

Nina paused at a shop that was sporting jewelry and darted in. Growling, Articus followed her in.

Gold, silver, and every color of gem he could imagine met his eyes all at once, taking him by surprise. There was enough in the store to buy a small kingdom.

He found Nina in the back, examining a golden bracelet.

“Like that,” he said.

She looked up at him and arched an eyebrow--he didn’t have to know her to understand what that meant. Articus was certain it was the universal sign all women used for ‘you’re an idiot.’

“What?”

“You like that word don’t you?” When Articus gave her a puzzled look, she waved her hand dismissingly, “Never mind. Fine, I’ll help you but not here.” She tossed the bracelet back down on a satin pillow.

“Too cheap. I imagine you want to impress her.” The corners of her mouth curved at the last part.

“Cheap? That looked fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Men.”

Nina walked out, leaving Articus to glower, If I had a penny for every time she…

As much as he regretted it, he’d come to enjoy her company. He felt himself open up to her more than he had to anyone. Being in the military for so long, Articus hadn’t realized how closed off to people he’d been.

“The price of leadership.” General Briar said from a distant memory

Dismissing the thought, he followed the little woman. I’m not a leader any more.



Ten grueling stores later, Nina finally found something to her satisfaction. It was a set--two necklaces and a bracelet. The first necklace was a silver choker with a number of delicate firedrop loops, each cradling a small green emerald. The second necklace was a more conventional one. It slid down the front where a silver wire twined around a large emerald like silver vines. The thing seemed to accentuate the bosom more than Articus would have liked but, after ten shops, he smartly kept his tongue.

The bracelet was artfully carved like silver leaves, the locking mechanism was so skillfully hidden that one couldn’t see it without knowing where it was. Like the necklaces, small emeralds peppered the bracelet, giving the illusion of seeing green stars through a tree.

It was magnificent.

“I know you are fond of that slave but--I’ve never heard of someone giving their slave a gift,” Nina murmured next to Articus just as he flagged down the shopkeeper.

“Thanks,” Articus said with a smile, as if it were a compliment. She scowled at him.

“How much?” he asked the moment the shopkeeper was within hearing distance.

“Forty crowns, good sir,” the man said before bowing.

He had more than enough but rand would have chastised him for not bargaining. Thinking of rand he thought how much gold he was spending on a gift--and how a week ago he would have thought it was enough to retire on.

Nina was baffled when Articus casually offered twenty-five for it, commenting on how little there was for such a price.

The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed and they were soon going back and forth with their counter offers. Their tones were conversational but it was plain to anyone it was a heated bargaining debate. After some deliberating, Articus was able to get the set for thirty-five and a half crowns. Walking out the store with the wrapped jewelry in their bag, Nina went into a fit of giggles.

“I never thought he would have gone under thirty-eight. I didn’t even know you could do that! That was--fun.”

Her giggling was infectious and Articus had to smile. “You have a lot to learn my young pup.” She smacked him in the arm playfully--but not too soft. Their practices were either making her stronger or she was maturing, he hoped for the former.

“You didn’t notice how we were the only ones in his store or the desperation in his eyes? If you see those two things, you can get almost any shopkeeper to lower the price a bit.”

The sun had climbed to its zenith by the time they were back at Pier Seven, a tavern that stood on the Jewel.

“Articus! Over here! Hey Nina,” Dylon called out to them the moment they walked in.

Dylon, Waylon, and Cedrick were all lounging at the back of the room. They had kept two chairs for them empty.

“Wes came in here but turned tail the moment he saw us,” Dylon said the moment Articus sat down. “I think after knocking him around a few times during Combat, he got the idea.”

Articus was all too aware of how Dylon ‘knocked’ him around. In truth they were both equally matched--he just got lucky the last time.

“What did you guys get?” Waylon asked curiously at Articus’s bag. Nina’s dress that she’d purchased during their search was sticking out the top.

“A dress for me and Articus got a gift for someone,” Nina replied with a hint of mystery.

Where Articus went to the point, Nina poked around the bush.

“Celia? You dog! I’d like to see Tallen’s face when he…” Dylon began.

With an all too eager smile, Articus noted.

He waved his hands for Dylon to stop and shot a glare at the grinning Nina. “It’s for Mia. You couldn’t pay me to think of Celia that way.”

Waylon smacked his forehead, “Ahh. I forgot to get something for Julia.” Julia was his slave.

“What is with you southerners?” Nina exasperated.

Cedrick patted Waylon companionably. “We still have time.”

“You too?” Nina rolled her eyes.

“Different people have different customs,” Cedrick quoted fatherly. “They believe showing gratitude to their slaves by giving them gifts or paying them.”

“Servants,” Waylon correct him patiently. He had apparently been teaching Cedrick of their ways. The big man gave Waylon an apologetic smile.

“My father would die before he gave a penny to any of our two hundred slaves,” Dylon muttered dryly.

Articus looked horrified at the redhead. “Two hundred?”

Even Nina was taken aback. “Your House must be very powerful for being only a merchant,” she said slowly.

Dylon, for once, shrugged modestly. “Capri is different for your lands. Merchants can be as powerful as your Dukes and even as some of your Lords.”

Their drinks arrived by two white clad serving girls and, for the first time, Articus realized that all the ‘serving girls’ were slaves. Thinking back when they’d been walking around, he could imagine that half the city was populated by slaves.

When Articus asked Waylon and Cedrick what they’d done this morning, Waylon mimicked Dylon’s shrug.

“Not a whole lot. Mostly just strode around Gesture’s Avenue. That’s were the street performers are. We were told there is going to be a fireworks display for us Novices but the whole Jewel is reserved by every noble and Reaper in Tekal. Cedrick offered his balcony, though.”

They talked of their classes and what their mentor’s had been teaching them. Articus was disheartened when they all had been learning something from their mentors--everything from how the hole in their world had been torn to the history of Tekal. Lately, Articus had to rely on the books he had found in the common room since Celia had stopped asking for him. He felt as if he would never become a Reaper at the rate he was going.

“I still don’t understand why we can’t just put a whole Cohort of Reapers on that hole.” Waylon said when the conversation went to Darklings.

“Priscilla explained it to me like this,” Cedrick said as he reached for his napkin. He dipped his hand into his pocket and produced a black marble. Nina had told him that his youngest son had given it to him as a reminder.

So sad.

Placing the marble on the napkin, he let it roll about.

“The napkin is our world, it is always moving like this.” He dropped one corner of the napkin and then another--the marble rolled around wildly. “The marble is the hole. It isn’t stationary but relative to their world. It also opens and closes at infrequent intervals. That’s why they can’t predict when it will appear in our world and why we can’t put people on it.”

Dylon said, “I hear those Darklings are as powerful as Articus.”

“That’s helpful,” Articus said sourly.

Compassionate looks met him and he waved his hand. “Don’t you dare give me those pity looks or I’ll bust all of your hides in Combat.” It was half-heartedly but most of them grinned.

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?!” a hefty man in an apron bellowed from a small stage. Slowly the voices died away and as one, their table turned to the man.

When the tavern keeper had everyone’s attention he dramatically bellowed, “I’m pleased to introduce you all to Mistress Guinavev of the Minstrel Guild!”

To Articus’s surprise, everyone stood up and started whistling and clapping their hands wildly. He turned to Waylon who looked as confused as he. Everyone else at their table had joined the crowd as well, and they all looked genuinely shocked and happy.

“Who’s--” Waylon began but Nina shot him a glare just as a Kalian woman got on the stage. Blond hair, startling blue eyes, and the whitest of white dress--she looked like an angle.

One by one everyone sat down eagerly, causing a rippling effect.

The woman gave a half curtsy half bow and a sensual thigh exposed itself from a hidden slit that ran along her dress. “Thank you.” Her voice was as musical as Celia’s.

After the clapping and whistling died, she sang.

Articus sat there, mouth agape, looking as much of a fool as Waylon.

She is more than talented, she’s- she’s… He couldn’t finish the thought. A voice of honey carried itself over the crowd in the midst of a violin and a cello. He couldn’t make out the words or from where the instruments were coming from but he didn’t care, it was beautiful.

Nina whispered in his ear, her own voice betrayed her own awe, “It’s the old tongue. Few minstrels know it and even fewer can pull off the vocal cords needed for it. She is the most widely wanted person in all the northern lands…I have no idea what she’s doing here. She should be singing to the Head Mistress.” Her puzzlement was plain on her voice.

Articus felt like he’d sat there for hours as the woman went from an odd mix of lightheartedness and dread to a sultry sexy voice. The later part seemed to fit Tekal and Bower City as a whole. He’d heard Bower City’s nickname among the crowd: Sin City.

There were more whorehouses in Bower City then all of the Empire. It seemed Reapers were a lonely lot that passed the centuries in different beds.

Having no windows, and there only being a few lanters to light the room, there was a definite feel of nighttime in the air. But when the goddess of a woman went from sultry innuendoes to a more festival tone--and the string instruments were accompanied by some type of flute--the air seemed to brighten like magic.

Wondering how that could be, he looked up to find very small threads of spirit being woven around cleverly hidden window shutters up in the rafters.

To the maddening cries of the crowd, she finished the upbeat song, and her performance, by hanging her head low dramatically--breathing hard.

Articus and Waylon were the first to their feet, clapping hard and chanting her name. They were like soldiers again. Just two soldiers in a tavern having a good time.

Yup, much the fools.

She raised her eyes and smiled at Waylon and then to Articus before throwing her hands out wide to everyone, giving that odd bow again before walking off the stage to the back.

As the crowd died away, many leaving to tell their friends, Articus caught the grumblings of an older man a table away.

“Bloody hell! All a sh-charade I ssay! La-lies, all of it! Why do I bothher? We should all be ssomewhere in the eighht hell ssomewhere. Carca-sses-“ Articus didn’t hear much else as two Reapers grabbed the slurring older man who was clenching his half empty mug of ale. This time the old man yelled, “Get off me you! I’ve been a S-S-Reaper long before you two were even a thhhought in your bloody parent’s mindss! I can sstand, I can sstand!”

At that, the two men released him but the older Reaper dropped to the floor like dead weight.

“Red-nosed worthless drunk,” one of the Reapers muttered.

An odd display and a would-be dampener on the mood but Articus and Nina were the only ones who had heard it--everyone else around them were too engrossed at laughing at Waylon and jesting over how northerners are better.

“Better go save your boytoy before he gets any more embarrassed,” Articus whispered in Nina’s ear. She smiled thoughtfully at Waylon’s new nickname.

He is definitely in trouble.

She turned away from him to join the group. Articus, with his damsel-in-distress-seventh-sense going off, caught a slave girl’s arm and pulled her away from a drunken patron who was trying to fondle her.

“Excuse me, miss. I was hoping I could have a refill.” The young girl, she mustn’t have been older than fifteen, looked relieved at his request.

“Yes, master. At once.” She curtsied and almost ran back to the kitchens with his mug.

The patron who had been relieved of his plaything glowered at Articus but, after giving Articus a closer look, he turned back to his mug sourly.

“Rescuing slave girls now, are we?” a feminine musical voice said from behind him.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

He turned around, thinking to find Celia, and was shocked to find Mistress Guinavev.

“Were you expecting someone else?” She mused when Articus blinked at her like a startled deer.

“Sorry. Actually--yes, yes I did… I didn’t think a person of your ahh--stature would be here… um, my lady.” Articus felt awkward. Making matters worse, he gave her a small bow. He knew she wasn’t of royalty but he couldn’t stop himself.

Way to go Articus. You’re such a smooth Prince. Might as well fall on your sword and be done with it.

She smiled politely, “I’m far from a lady, my handsome soldier.” Articus blinked again.

Damn northern women.

“You are a soldier are you not?” she asked curiously. “I’ve met very few southerners and none who are soldiers. Your other friend is one too, no?”

By this time, his friends behind him had stopped talking and were now staring at Guinavev.

Articus introduced them all with their appropriate titles. Titles were a big thing in the north. When they each heard their name spoken, they bowed or curtsied to the minstrel.

“A pleasure,” Guinavev said to them all. Nina, her curiosity peaked now, asked her why she was here and not in Tekal.

“That is tomorrow. I got here early and decided to warm up my vocals before tomorrow. Master Paen, the tavern keeper here, was kind enough to give me the floor.” She smiled at the tavern keeper who was across the room and returned his wave he gave her the moment she looked up at him.

Dylon was bright-eyed and Articus could have sworn he had seen droolage.. “Will you be in Cosanova this coming Spring Festival? I saw you there last year, you were- I mean, you are amazing!”

They were all as tongue tied as Articus had been but not for the same reasons. She was famous, not royal. Feeling crowded and still slightly embarrassed, he looked for a way out.

The slave girl arrived with his mug and paused hesitantly at the ring of bodies. Finally finding his opening, he excused himself and wormed his way out of the tightening circle.

Grabbing the mug, he reached into his purse, not caring what the coin was, and tossed her it before giving her his thanks. He held back a smile when a glint of gold fell into her hand. Turning, he hurriedly went for the door before she could refuse. Sipping the mug, he watched as the afternoon crowds walked by and at the twinkling bay.

This was much more to Articus’s taste.

Strangely, he spotted Wes striding through the crowds suspiciously with Braine tailing behind him. They were heading right for a table at a restaurant that stood outside under a patio. Articus caught the blond hair of Reed, Wes’s mentor.

He watched the three men talk and, by their body language, they were trying to keep the conversation private. Articus was about to go over and try to eavesdrop when Nina’s hand caught his shoulder.

“There you are! Mistress Guinavev offered her small condo over the Strip for tonight’s fireworks, isn’t that wonderful?!” It was like hearing a little girl opening her gifts on her Name Day.

“Yes, wonderful.” Articus said half-mindedly as he eyed the trio down the street.

What are they talking about?

“Come on! She’s been asking a lot of questions about southerners and you know Waylon, he’s tongue tied.”

Like you aren’t.

Sighing, Articus let Nina pull him back into the tavern.