The Reaper's Curse #1 - Complete

Four Days

Alicia is numb. Her skin is cold to the touch. She isn't aware of much of anything as she stands amongst the gathered people in the tavern, Sam leaning against the bar before them with a haunted expression.

"We got the supplies," she simply says, but no one celebrates, no one congratulates them. They see the heavy weight on her shoulders, and they know the worst is yet to come. But Sam can't seem to speak the words, staring at the wood beneath her muddied boots, grip tightening on the wood of the bar at her back.

"We came across a herd of Grey Bloods," Galya speaks instead, turning to face the small group of people who will tell their families and the rest of the Commons about this mess. "Bigger than anything we've seen before, advancing from Igorek and Parshin. It appears to be what's left of them after the war." The silence is heavy, almost crushing.

The cost of the war would always demand to be paid, but these people never thought it would demand recompense from those who have already given everything they have.

Alicia perhaps would blame the gods as well if she cared to. But she knows this is the fault of the grand duke, and that man is as untouchable as any god.

"How long do we have to prepare?" someone in the group questions, their voice quiet, strained.

"Four days," Sam replies, straightening her stance as the group murmurs.

They had rushed back to the Commons as fast as they could, the usual three-day ride cut into two. But it still feels as though it was pointless. That herd is coming and running isn't going to stop that.

An exile will always be short on time, no matter how much they twist the hands of the clock back. That's what Kathryn once told her. When those gates were shut and the tunnels except one were caved in, that's when every clock began ticking. Suddenly those trapped beyond the walls were exiles and nothing was going to change that.

There's no fighting the inevitable. Alicia understands that now more than ever.

"Warn the rest of our people," Galya speaks. "Make sure you have your guns close, but don't fear. We will beat this. It's what exiles do." She offers them a smile, and they're quick to leave. Sam pushes away from the bar to move to the back room, arm around her middle.

"Oliver, Galya" Sam mutters, and they follow her. Alicia turns to go, to return to a room as cold as her heart.

"Alicia." She glances up at her name, Oliver standing by the door of the back room. He inclines his head, gesturing into the room with the others. "You might want to hear some of the things about to be said."

Alicia swallows, but she nods and walks into the room, Oliver closing the door behind her.

She doesn't know why he'd want her in here with them, not with the clear mistrust Sam has of her, but Oliver and her share something that they can't speak aloud; they know there's more to all of this. They know the true danger isn't the Grey Bloods. Though they might not survive long enough to learn more about the Ghuls, not that Alicia wants to.

Alicia studies the people she stands amongst, Oliver settling onto a chair in the corner and placing a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. They haven't spoken since they arrived back in the Commons mere hours ago. Those sterling eyes merely raked her from head to toe before he nodded and started gathering people for their announcement.

Perhaps he didn't expect her to survive out there. Perhaps a part of her wished she hadn't. Especially after failing what she went out there to do, the journal and now the map burning a hole in her satchel.

"This isn't something we've faced before," Sam begins, slumping into a seat behind her desk.

"We make a plan, and we get through it," Galya replies, her words firm.