“You want to talk about transgressions? You should be grateful Ididn’t tell Ash about your little spell.”
“Then we both have something to hide. Isn’t that the best arrangement?” Zizi grinned. “I’m asking for a favor because despite being a little shit, deep inside that soul of yours, you know what’s right and that makes you a good person.”
Yiran felt his lips curling. “I’ll accept that backhanded compliment. What do you want?”
“I need you to watch over Rui. Tell me if you notice anything off about her.”
“I don’t even know her,” Yiran said, surprised by Zizi’s request. “We don’t run in the same circles.”
“Now that you have”—Zizi stuck his fingers up and made air quotes—“magic, and you’ve told your brother, I assume you’ll be enrolling in the Academy. Which means you’ll be able to see Rui every day. You won’t be in the same classes since she’s top of her cohort, but at least you’ll be on campus.”
“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?”
“She means everything.” Zizi had spoken so bluntly it could only be the truth. It was a useful piece of information.
“And if I refuse?” Yiran asked, more to needle Zizi than anything. The thought of having to deal with Rui daily sounded exhausting. Although, who was it who once said,Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? Rui wasn’t an enemy, more like a petite and noisy rival. If he knew how her recovery was going, he could make his own plans more effectively.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Zizi said. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Whether you like it or not, the both of you are connected now. You hold something of hers, something that doesn’tnaturallybelong to you. If anything happens to her, who’s to say you’ll survive it?”
Yiran’s skin prickled with a strange chill as the mage stared at him, pale blue eyes piercing through dark wavy bangs. He swallowed thickly and pulled out his phone. “I guess this is where we exchange numbers.”
14
Nikai
The spirit trail of the dying star had given Nikai hope he didn’t dare feel. After seeking his King for so long, each disappointment felt more bitter than the previous. But his trip to the mortal realm last night lit a new fire in him. He’d returned to the underworld, thoughts whirring for sleepless hours as he dissected what he had witnessed between two teenagers. It was an impossibility that convinced him that impossibilities were merely a lack of imagination, and that this new lead he’d stumbled upon might just be the game changer.
A wild theory had sprung in his head, one so irreverent it was almost blasphemous. Nikai knew he had to becertainbefore he could reveal it to anyone else. He needed to investigate one of the teenagers before taking the next step.
But first, he needed to find his new boss.
Nikai’s left eye twitched from fatigue as he sprinted. He tapped his security card, listening to thezap-zapof doors opening and closing as he slid through. Traveling through Hell required a firm head and a steady stomach, and it had taken Nikai a while to get the hang of it when he was first brought here by Four. The souls had no reason to leave their assigned Court, but the Reapers and other staff commuted regularly.
Hell’s architecture was complex: the Ten Courts sprawled out like kingdoms of their own, but some parts were interconnected in different ways. Not too long ago, Nikai had wandered into a gallery in the human realm and gotten enamored with a piece of art. The artist had drawn impossible stairs that went nowhere and everywhere, humanoid figures walking on floors and walls and ceilings, windows that opened to unexpected perspectives.Relativity. That was the title of the lithograph. It had reminded Nikai of the underworld.
“Hey, Nikai, where are you rushing to?” a Sixth Court Reaper juggling a stack of files asked as he sped by her.
“Back to the human world,” Nikai panted.
“Are you taking the shortcut to the Gates? They haven’t fixed the pits yet—watch out for fires.”
“Thanks!” he yelled over his shoulder.
At the next corner, he turned sharply and placed his palm on an arched mirror. The glass transformed into liquid, pulling him in and spitting him out on the other side. He tripped, then caught himself, brushing the soot from his navy jacket, glad to have escaped the pits with only a singed eyebrow.
The Gates of Hell stood before him, pearlescent onyx and tall as mountains. Once intimidating, they were now a familiar sight. Nikai centered himself. The trip from the underworld to the human realm was like the drop in a very high roller-coaster ride, and he found it nauseating.
Bracing, he tapped his card, walked through, and appeared in an alley.
Nikai gave his stomach a few seconds to settle as he breathed in the mortal realm’s iridescent air. Squinting in morning light that felt too bright for his otherworldly eyes, he walked out into the street. His invisibility veil wasn’t up; it required too much energy to sustain it when he wasn’t on soul collection duty. But even with his peacock-blue hair, he passed so easily for a human that no one gave him a second look.
The humans were going about their daily business as usual, oblivious that a Reaper was walking beside them. No mortal—not even the Exorcists—knew about the actual existence of the underworld. Sure, humans had their superstitions, their death rituals and inherited customs. But based on his soul collection experiences, Nikai knew they were always shocked to discover that Hell was real.
Unsurprisingly, the humans were also oblivious to the danger Four’s absence had put them in. As the underworld faded, consumed by the Nothing, the barrier between the realms weakened. The Blight becamemore infectious, and it was harder for Reapers to guard the souls they were collecting. More were turning into Revenants. Things looked fine now as Nikai walked in the bright sunshine, but he knew there would come a day when the Exorcists would no longer be sufficient defense for this world.
All the more reason to find Four.
Nikai stopped in front of Gojo’s Café, his pulse speeding up as he thought about what he was about to do. With a quick exhale, he neatened his suit and stepped in.
