“Miss Blake,” Professor Dal calls, and I get up from the couch and walk over to him. Heat from the fire spreads through me. “It’s terrible, what happened to Blaze.”
“Yeah,” I say woodenly, staring into the fire. A sense of surrealness is starting to come over me…how can he be gone? I wasjusttalking to him yesterday.
“I know the two of you were training in the evenings.” Something flickers in Professor Dal’s eyes. “Did he say anything to you that might give us a clue as to what happened?”
“No,” I tell him. “We mostly talked about training and how he hopes to rise fast in the army once he graduates. He was looking forward to the Captura game…” I blink back a sudden wave of tears and pull my cloak tight around my body. “He’s not the kind of guy who would run away. I know things aren’t always as they seem and even the happiest people suffer from anxiety and depression, but he wasn’t. Blaze was happy. A bit full of himself at times, even.”
“I know.” Professor Dal’s brows pinch together and he puts a hand on my shoulder. “I promise you, Miss Blake, I will figure out what happened to Blaze. These disappearances have got to stop.”
“Good. Do you…do you think a demon could be in the academy?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “That would be impossible. We have strong enchantments that prevent them from breaking through into the realm, and then if one did get in, we’d know right away. The demon wouldn’t stand a chance in a school full of reapers.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “Only a young, and very dumb, demon would willingly come into Reaper Academy. It wouldn’t survive here long at all.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” I say, and Professor Dal laughs. Seeing him so calm soothes my nerves.
“Don’t worry, Miss Blake.” He squeezes my shoulder, and the warmth of his skin soaks right through my clothes. “I have something planned for you that will be a welcome distraction.”
“Yes?”
“Getting your own scythe.”
* * *
“Now,don’t be discouraged if none of these speak to you,” Professor Dal begins, holding out his hand and summoning a bright yellow ball of energy. “If that is the case, we can arrange a trip to Soul City and visit the capital’s armory.”
He puts the energy ball inside a large lantern hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the space. We’re in the armory, which is located in a tower I’ve never been in before. It’s on the other side of the building from the training room, and was locked by magic and a large iron padlock. No one else is here—all the students and staff are at lunch right now.
“There is usually a ceremony involved when picking your scythe…” he says, but his words fade away as my eyes zero in on a scythe hanging on the wall. Dust covers the blade, settling in the grooves of runic-style engraving. The handle is rather plain, with a crisscross design carved into the wood near the blade.
I reach for it, and everything disappears from view. The world is black, and the only thing that exists is the scythe. My heart beats in my ears, and when my fingers wrap around the wooden blade, light pours from my fingers and the scythe becomes part of me, feeling like an extension of my arm.
“Well that was fast.”
I blink and look up, remembering that I’m not alone. Professor Dal is standing next to me, looking at the scythe in my hands with a strange expression on his face. He seems almost…afraid?
“Interesting that particular one called to you,” he muses.
“Why is it interesting?” I look at the blade again and want to reach out and run my finger over the cool, sharp metal.
He clears his throat, his expression calm once more. “Out of all the scythes in this room, only two belonged to former reapers.”
“Wait, you’re telling me the reaper who had this scythe before me is…is dead?”
“Yes. She was a skilled Proeliator like you. One of the best, if you ask me.” He smiles fondly. “Inquisitive too. A tad pushy at times. I’m seeing more similarities between you two as I talk about it,” he adds with a smirk.
I slide my hands down the wooden handle. “I have to admit it feels familiar already.”
“Excellent.” He beams. “That means the bond is forming, just as it should.”
“What was her name?” I tear my eyes from my weapon and look at Professor Dal. “The reaper who owned this before me?”
“Medea.”
“How did she die?”
“We were ambushed,” he begins, and I remember the soldiers telling me about a horrible tragedy in the human realm attracting more demons than they’d been prepared for. “You’ve yet to reach this point in your studies, but the demon who attacked us was a Red Skull, much more powerful than most.”
“I read a bit about them in Maxon’s notes. They’ve consumed so many souls they’re basically supercharged and possess active powers.”
