The ding of the elevator was more baleful than usual, closer to a crow cawing than a musical note. As the car sank down, Nikai whispered a word. The white box in his hand warmed up. Moments later, the aroma of fried chicken rose from it. The doors opened at the bottom of the administrative tower. He exited and crossed the skybridge, taking care not to look down into the abyss.
“Archives, please,” Nikai said to the nondescript black door set into the rock wall. A bell chimed. He turned the doorknob counterclockwise and stepped cautiously through.
The melancholic sounds of an erhu floated in the air.
Built like a wooden temple, the Archives were said to hold the birth and death stories of everyone who had ever lived. This was the Librarian’s domain.
“Greetings, Nikai,” said the elderly sage, placing his string instrument down. His hair was white, eyes a timeless gray, face disturbingly smooth like an egg.
“Have you eaten, qianbei?” Nikai inquired, knowing the Librarian would appreciate this traditional way of address. “I brought you something delicious from the human realm.”
“Ah, I see you youngsters have not forgotten the gift of respect,” the Librarian commented, taking the box.
Nikai smiled politely. He mightlooknineteen, and in many ways he’d stayed that age in his mind, but technically he was centuries old.
The Librarian sniffed. “Five-spice popcorn chicken. What a delicacy.” It was hard to miss his sarcasm, but Nikai saw how eagerly he slipped the box under his table. “How may I help you?”
“I was sent by the Tenth King to access the Darkroom.”
“The Darkroom? For what purpose?” The Librarian’s snow-white brows twitched. It wasn’t uncommon to investigate stories in the Archives. Knowing how souls lived as humans was helpful in managing them. But this wasn’t part of a Reaper’s job, and moreover, the stories placed specifically in the Darkroom were unfinished. They were lives still being written and sacred to the living.
“My visit concerns the search for the Fourth King.” Briefly, Nikai told him about the two teenagers involved in the anomaly. “It’s not much to go on, but it’s a new lead,” he finished.
The Librarian peered at Nikai. “You were Four’s Head Reaper, were you not?”
“Yes.”I was also his friend and confidant. Or at least, I thought so.Nikai laid a neat stack of papers on the desk. “Here is all the paperwork.”
“The stories in the Darkroom are exceptionally fragile. It would be a catastrophe if they were damaged by a Reaper who should not be handling them.”
“These documents bear the mark of the Tenth King,” Nikai said, keeping his smile respectful. “And you are more than welcome to extract the stories for me.”
With a softhumph, the Librarian pulled out a pair of round spectacles from the pocket of his mandarin-collared tunic and put them on fussily. Stroking his braided beard, he read through the documents, flipping the pages carefully, ready to find fault. But Nikai was prepared. He had quadruple-checked his work before coming here.
He kept his conceit to himself when the Librarian finally said, “Everything checks out.”
“Great.”
“But where is the Tenth King? These documents permit him to enter. Not you.”
“Oh yes, the addendum.” Nikai pulled out his tablet and showed him another document. “Apologies. Unfortunately, the Tenth King is tied up at the moment, and I have his permission to proceed.”
“I see. He must be busy. I heard an entire village in the Tenth was taken by the Nothing yesterday. Those poor souls, doomed for the rest of eternity and punished for crimes they did not commit in their mortal life.” The Librarian looked at Nikai. “Youare familiar with the Nothing, correct?”
Nikai stiffened. “It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of the place,” he lied. “As you say, the Nothing has encroached upon the Tenth Court, and if we do not stop it, the other Courts are next. Speed is of the essence, qianbei.”
The Librarian did not take the hint. Instead, he removed his glasses, slowly polishing the lenses with a cloth.
“Did you know Four was the Tenth King’s favorite? They were close once, always together and thick as thieves. Even in the early days, Ten was not inclined to laughter, but Four could make him laugh—not in arrogance or spite, but with joy. I imagine the Tenth King feels betrayed by what happened. He must be deeply hurt that Four left without a word.”
He isn’t the only one, Nikai thought. What was a Reaper without his King? Not much. Not much at all. Resentment fermented in his chest, unexpected and sour. If Four hadn’t rescued him, if Four hadn’t pulled him out of the Nothing and offered him friendship and a second chance, Nikai would’ve been—
You would’ve been left walking in darkness for eternity. You would’ve been consumed by despair and regret, never to know the light again. Just like the lost souls from the Tenth Court.
Four had saved Nikai. It was the only truth. And now, it was Nikai’s turn to help.
The Librarian set his glasses down and fished out a tarnished brass key from his trouser pocket. It didn’t look particularly special.
“All right then. Come with me.”
