Shadow Prophet (Scythe Grove Academy Book 2) Read online

  10

  The inside of the building reminds me a little of the one where I first encountered the reapers who told me what I was. I didn't believe them at the time, but I'm grateful for it now.

  Creaks and groans come from the rotting floorboards.

  What am I doing here?

  "Mathias?" I call out. Maybe that's a bad idea, but he wanted me to come here, there must be a reason for that.

  No one answers.

  "Mathias, please, this isn't funny. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you." There's a slight shake in my voice. It's not a nice way of getting payback, but I suppose I understand why he may want it. "Mathias..." My voice cracks.

  Okay, this is getting to be beyond a joke. If he can hear me, he knows how scared I am. He's not cruel, he'll step in and reassure me.

  The door slams behind me and I spin around to find a tall woman with a pinched face staring at me.

  Oh no.

  "Hello, Syxe," she says, a slight smile lifting her lips. It's not a friendly one.

  "Ms Margery," I respond with a tightness in my voice that can't be misconstrued. "I'd say it's a pleasure to see you again, but I know how you feel about lying."

  "Hmm. Maybe I taught you better than I thought I did," she responds.

  I suppose she's not wrong. She taught me how I didn't want to be. I haven't seen Ms Margery since I moved into the teenager's dorm in the Shadow Association house, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten her. No matter how much I want to.

  "I need to get going," I say. "I have places I need to be."

  "Yes. You do. You received a summons."

  "That's not until next week," I point out. "I'm not late for it." Yet.

  "The Leader wants to make sure you'll show up for your summons."

  "That's not for me to decide." My whole body shakes, but I manage to keep it out of my voice. Somehow.

  A white shape floats through the door and makes its way to the point midway between us. It takes a moment for me to realise it's Erica's ghost.

  I frown, trying to work out what's happening.

  "I'm sorry," she whispers. "They made me."

  Ms Margery doesn't respond, which I have to assume means she's not a seer. Given that she isn't even looking at the ghost, she's probably not a reaper either.

  "Made you do what?" I ask, confident she won't be able to understand me. Mathias says he can only make out what I'm saying to the ghosts some of the time, and that's only because he knows what the conversations are about after the first time.

  "They made me trick you."

  "You don't have a baby?" I ask.

  "I do. Did." She shakes her head. "But they took him so I'd be around to help get you into the right place."

  "Ah." How am I supposed to respond to that? She's still a victim, even if it's not quite in the same way as before. "Did they kill you?"

  "What are you doing?" Ms Margery snaps before Erica can answer the question.

  Oops. I somehow managed to forget she was in the room. "I'm talking to Erica," I say, straightening my back and trying to seem as if I'm not phased by any of this. It's hard, but I'm going to manage. "I presume that's allowed?"

  She purses her lips, but isn't able to contradict what I'm saying. From what the others have told me about the Shadow Association, they don't disapprove of supernaturals, they just don't like that we live out in the open. Presumably, they either didn't know I was a reaper, or didn't trust I'd keep it quiet as a child so didn't tell me.

  I suspect the latter is most likely.

  I turn back to Erica.

  She nods once.

  Anger fills me. It's one thing to use someone. it's another to murder them and steal their child.

  "Why did you use Erica like this?" I demand of Ms Margery. I'm not sure if Erica's unfinished business is still to find her child, or if that's what she was told to tell us. Maybe it's actually to find out why this horrible thing happened to her.

  Not that finding her unfinished business will help much. Without Mathias here to port her, she's still stuck unless I can remove her tether myself. I doubt that's going to be possible. Ms Margery won't be here on her own, and reaching for my scythe will have her calling for her guards. While I don't use it that way, it's still a weapon with a lot of power. I doubt they'll want me using it.

  "We did it because we had to," Ms Margery responds. "So we could talk to you."

  "All right, now you have, it's time for you to step aside and let us go." I move forward, as if expecting her to do as I ask.

  Unsurprisingly, she doesn't move.

  "We have answers you want, Syxe," Ms Margery says. "You want them, right?"

  "Will you tell me where Erica's baby is?"

  "Of course," she assures me.

  I eye her suspiciously. Do I believe her? I'm not sure.

  "Erica signed over the baby's guardianship to us," Ms Margery says.

  "No!" Erica shouts, cutting off the other woman. It's useful that the ghost speech problems are only one way. Understanding the living is still possible for her.

  But apparently, Ms Margery doesn't know that.

  "Are you sure?" I ask.

  "Of course I'm sure. I saw the papers myself."

  "I didn't do that," Erica insists, her voice breaking. "Don't trust them, Syxe."

  I don't respond to her. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't want Ms Margery to know what I do.

  "I'd like to see the paperwork and the proof of what you've said."

  "If you come with us, then I can have that brought to you," Ms Margery says.

  Interesting. So she must have been told that they're willing to make some kind of deal with me. I don't really understand why they want me so much. Probably just because I walked away. I get the impression there aren't many people who actually do that.

  "No, you'll bring it to me," I insist. "To Erica's home so she can see proof of it."

  Relief floods the ghost's face as she realises I'm listening to her and still have her best interests at heart. At least I can still say I'm doing my job right.

  "I'm afraid that won't do," Ms Margery responds.

  "It's the only offer I'm making."

  "If you come to the Shadow Association, we'll tell you about your mother," she says.

  My eyes widen and shock goes through me. "What about her?"

  "Where she is."

  She's alive? I don't think I expected that.

  Erica shakes her head. "Don't listen to her. They're just trying to trick you."

  She's right, I'm sure of it. I can feel that's what Ms Margery is trying to do, I don't need her confirmation, though it's handy.

  "I'm sorry, that's not good enough for me." The words are hard to get out, especially with the prospect of the truth about where I came from on the line.

  But my freedom is more important to me than my past. Even if I never find out who my parents are, I can still control who I am and what I do. I'm not about to give the Shadow Association that control over me.

  I head towards the door, despite Ms Margery standing in the way still. I try not to let my fear get the better of me, even if dozens of nights as a small girl whizz around my mind all at once. She certainly knew how to scare us into line, but I'm starting to think that if she'd shown us a bit more compassion and understanding, I might be more pliable now.

  Not that I'm about to point that out to her. I don't think I could deal with her suddenly trying to be nice to me. And as horrible as it is for the children currently under her care, I don't want them growing up to think that the Shadow Association is a good place. They need to have the same realisation as me. Though Annalise seems to have fallen for their lines without any love and care, so what do I know.

  "Excuse me, please," I say to Ms Margery.

  She doesn't move.

  I sigh. That was to be expected.

  I turn around and head towards where I think I saw the kitchen. We're still on the ground floor, so I'll just have to go out of the second exit instead o
f this one. It's not as much of a power move as walking past Ms Margery, but I care more about my freedom than making a point.

  Ms Margery whistles shrilly and two burly guards step into my way.

  Ah. There seems to be a slight flaw in my plan.

  "Excuse me, please." My voice shakes, but I stand firm, scrunching up my palms.

  "I'm sorry, Syxe," Ms Margery says without a hint of real regret in her voice. "We can't do that."

  I'm about to scream when one of the men steps forward and grabs me, putting his hand over my mouth to stop any noises.

  I struggle against him, kicking and trying to get to my scythe. I'm not sure what I'll do with it when I get it, but it'll be good to be armed.

  Unfortunately, it seems like the men have had the same idea, and the other one grabs it from my back.

  I feel bereft without it. Like I'm less capable of retaining who I am.

  I have to hope that isn't true, but I'm scared to find out.

  11

  I study the room around me, trying to figure out what my chances of making a run for it are. I slump back in the chair. There's no point. I'm not a fool. Even if I manage to get out of the room, there are going to be people waiting outside it. And there are dozens of twists and turns in the house before I can get to the exit and out onto the street. Without being sure that I have a free run at the door, and access to my scythe so I can defend myself, there's no point even attempting to escape.

  I need to bide my time and wait for a better opportunity. One's bound to come along. They can't keep me locked up in an office forever.

  As if summoned by my thoughts, the door clicks and swings open. A thin man with dark hair and a surprisingly welcoming face steps into the room and takes the seat opposite me. The desk between us doesn't create nearly as much of a barrier as I want it to.

  "Syxe Weston." He draws my name out as if this is the first time he's said it out loud. "You've been causing a lot of problems."

  "I don't see any," I counter. "I was asked to take the Shadow Oath, I declined and went back to my life. That's not a problem, it's a choice."

  He chuckles. "I see what Ms Margery means about you having a mouth on you. I'm surprised she didn't scare it out of you."

  "She tried." I fold my arms. "But she underestimated me. A lot of people do."

  "And you're implying I'm one of them." He nods his head as if understanding something.

  "I said nothing of the sort. But if you think you're guilty of that, then you must be."

  "How is one eighteen-year-old reaper causing so many problems for my Association?"

  His? Interesting. So I've been sent right to the top. They really must think I'm causing trouble.

  "What kind of problems am I causing?" I ask. "I didn't take the Shadow Oath, I don't owe anything to the Association."

  "That's not true." He gets to his feet and makes his way over to a cabinet.

  I watch with mild interest as he pulls open a draw and gets out a sheet of paper. He returns to the desk and sets it down in front of me before seating himself again.

  With caution, I lift the sheet of paper from the table and scan it. My blood turns cold.

  This is not good.

  "As you can see, you do owe something to the Shadow Association." It's hard to ignore the glee on his face.

  "I can't owe my life to anyone, this isn't legally binding." My words come out shaky, but that's to be expected.

  "I think you'll find that you do. You see, your mother made the Shadow Oath when she joined us."

  "My mother," I echo. I know what he's saying is true, I can see it on the paper in front of me, but that doesn't make it easier to swallow.

  "Yes. Anna Weston wasn't in the best of shape when we found her. She'd been living in the City of Blood for a decade, and that does something to a person. The things she must have seen..."

  I don't engage with the statement. Partly because I don't have enough knowledge of the inner workings of the city to make a judgement, but mostly because I don't want him to stop telling me about my mother.

  "She escaped. No one knows how, she didn't talk about it when she got here. We believe she spent a month or two on the streets once she got out, by which point she was heavily pregnant with you."

  My heart aches for the woman I never knew. Even if she technically signed my life away to the organisation that's now trying to claim they own me, she clearly did it under duress.

  Hopefully, that's something I can use to invalidate this stupid contract if I need to.

  "Two of our members came upon her and offered her a place to stay, a home to call her own. She leapt at the chance."

  "Of course she did," I mutter bitterly. "It's not much of a choice when the other is likely to lead to you dying."

  "It's still a choice," he cuts me off before I can say anything else.

  "I beg to differ."

  "I don't think you're in any position to do that," he reminds me. "Not while you're a guest here."

  "At least be honest about it and call me a prisoner." I cross my arms and stare him down, hoping the fear I'm feeling inside doesn't show.

  "If that's how you want to see yourself, then you're welcome to use that descriptor. It doesn't change anything about your situation."

  "I think that's pretty much the definition of being a prisoner," I point out.

  "Perhaps. Now, where was I before you rudely interpreted? Ah, right. Your mother."

  I dig my nails into the palm of my hand in an effort to stop the anger from overtaking me. Acting out and trying to escape still isn't going to get me anywhere, and when all is said and done, I do want to hear what he has to say about my mother. If he's telling the truth.

  "We cared for her and nursed her back to health, and when she was feeling better, we gave her a chance to take the Shadow Oath and become a fully-fledged member of the Shadow Association. Which she did, gladly. Not even a week later, she gave birth to you and passed due to...complications."

  My eyebrows knit together in a frown. It feels as if there's something missing from the story, even if the bones of it are true.

  "Did you know she was a reaper?" I ask.

  "Of course. Everyone in the Shadow Association is supernatural. If she'd been human, she wouldn't have been offered a chance to join us."

  "You mean you'd have left her to die in the streets," I point out.

  "That's neither here or there."

  "I think it is. You can't ignore people in danger just because they don't have anything you want." It seems I'm not doing a good job of keeping the anger inside after all.

  I don't care. He deserves to hear it.

  "Before you start blaming me for things I'm not guilty of, remember this was eighteen years ago. My predecessor was in power at the time." He seems proud of that loophole to avoiding blame.

  "Because you haven't done the same to countless people."

  "What I may or may not have done is none of your concern."

  "It is if you want me to join the Shadow Association," I counter. "I won't join something that treats people like they're disposable."

  He chuckles. "I don't think you're understanding the situation here. You don't have a choice about whether you join us or not. You already belong to us. This isn't a debate. I'm not trying to convince you to stay, I'm telling you that you are."

  My heart sinks. That's not good. Maybe I should have tried to escape after all. I still don't think I'd have gotten very far, but at least I'd have tried.

  Maybe that's what I need to do now.

  With all the courage I have, I get to my feet and steel my voice. "Thank you for your offer, but I must decline. I'm late for class."

  I turn without waiting for him to respond and head towards the door. To my surprise, it swings open before I can get to it, revealing Ms Margery behind it with a gleeful expression on her face.

  I know from experience that's not good.

  "Ah, Ms Margery, we've been expecting you. I think Miss Weston needs some time
alone to contemplate her choices."

  "Yes, Leader," she responds. "I thought that might be the case and have already readied a room for that purpose."

  I wince. That doesn't sound good. Knowing Ms Margery, it'll be a locked room with nothing but a thin blanket and dry bread to eat. I suppose things could be worse. I must have some power or they wouldn't be so intent on keeping me.

  "All right, Syxe, come on," she says, gesturing to the door.

  "Thank you for your offer of hospitality," I say through gritted teeth. "But I really must be going..."

  She reaches out and grabs hold of my arm, pressing her fingers into the soft flesh a little more forcefully than I think is necessary.

  It takes everything I have not to wince in pain. I don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she's hurting me, she takes too much pleasure in it.

  There's nothing I can do when she drags me from the room. She's stronger than me and has a lot of practice with getting other people to do what she wants.

  This isn't going to be a chance for me to escape.

  12

  I wish I had a clock. Or some other way of working out how long I've been in this room. I know it can't be too long, probably less than a day. Though it feels like longer.

  The lights are always on. I've had two meals of bread and water. It's ridiculously cold and the predictable thin blanket doesn't do much to help keep me warm.

  Ms Margery knows how to make someone's life miserable.

  I guess the Leader can't deny I'm a prisoner now. I'm just not sure what to do with that information now I'm in a locked room with absolutely no chance of escaping.

  And no way of contacting the outside. I'm not sure exactly when they took my phone away, but I don't have it now.

  All of the things I wish I'd done differently run through my head. If I'd gone straight to talk to Mathias after his brother encouraged me to, then I would have questioned why he'd sent me the email more and asked him about it. If I'd done that, I wouldn't be here. I'd be with my friends drinking coffee and talking about the new reaping technique we learned.