A Reaper King to Kill

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Carissa recalled the last few days she'd spend with Elon—when they'd reunited in the town, the night they'd spent in that dripping cabin. If she had known that those were the last days she'd spend in his company, perhaps she wouldn't have chased him away in the first place.

Grief wound around Carissa's chest, regrets cutting deep into her heart, but she had no tears left to shed. At least that was a small mercy. Her eyes nearly ached from crying and the tears made the cut on her cheek burn.

The world was silent, except for the wet squishing of her boots into the mud beside the creek bed. Her throat had gone dry; it felt as if it were threatening to crack like dirt after a drought.

She went to her knees, wetting the trousers, and dipped her hands into the water. Water Elon had used to heal her only the other day. She clenched her fists beneath the cold current and closed her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Elon. If I could just—"

Warmth rushed up her arms, and she gasped, her eyes flying open. The ring was glowing beneath the water. Movement flickered in the corner of her vision, and she glanced at her forearm. The wound was stitching itself shut. As if someone were healing it.

She lifted her arm from the water, staring at the freshly formed skin. It was perfect, flawless.

She spun around, her gaze combing the forest. "Elon? Can you hear me?"

A warm pulse. Emanating from her finger.

She glanced down at her wedding ring. "Hello?"

Another warm pulse.

"Elon?" She cradled her hand close to her chest, fixing her gaze on the ring. "Are you... in there?"

A third warm pulse.

So he was in there. Somehow. But wasn't he supposed to be in Second Life? Perhaps the ring was a communication device, a bridge between the two worlds. Perhaps it was a bridge she could cross.

"Elon, can I use this to be with you? Can I be where you are?"

The metal remained cool.

Perhaps he hadn't heard her. "Elon?"

Nothing. Stupid ring. Perhaps she needed to be closer to this Second Life place for it to work. She held up her hand toward the sky, wandering beside the creek. "Hello? Can you hear me now?"

"Yes, I can."

Not Elon's voice. Carissa spun around, her hand going to the dagger at her waist.

A man walked toward her. "What's a lass like you doing all the way out in the woods?"

He was tall and freckled, his thick beard having a slightly reddish tint to it that matched his flushed skin.

"I'm headed toward the capital. Can you point me in the right direction?"

"Capital? What're you doing headed toward the capital all the way out here? There's a dangerous pass out here, you know. All sorts of thieves and bandits use it to ambush innocent folks."

Anger seared her chest, the heat from it too soon doused with grief. "Yes. I know that."

His face slackened in sympathy, his gaze darting to the blood-darkened areas on her clothing. "Were you ambushed, lass?"

"I was." She considered her next words before saying, "They killed my husband."

"I–I'm sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair, sympathy fitting him like a pair of too-tight trousers. "Anyhow, if you'll follow me, I can show you a place of refuge for young women such as yourself."

A place of refuge for young women? In Esmeray? More likely a nighthouse. "No, I need to see the capital."

"Well, this just so happens to be along our way."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Did he really think that she was so naïve that she'd just let him rope her into this? She would sooner die than become a nightwoman again.

The man lifted his hands. "Stop shooting arrows at me with those eyes of yours. They're quite piercing, don't you know?"

"Just point me in the direction of the capital."

"It's in the same direction as the woman's refuge."

How convenient. "Have a good day, then. And don't try to follow me."

Carissa continued to walk along the stream. But before she'd taken more than five steps, the ring on her finger turned to ice. She slowed. What did that mean? Was she supposed to trust the man?

She lifted her hand. "Elon, should I go with him?"

"Lass? Is everything all right? Who are you talking to?"

The ring responded to her question with a warm pulse. Hopefully that meant yes. Carissa pivoted and strode back to the man. "I've changed my mind. I'll go with you."

The man stared at her for a long moment, his brows furrowed. But she wasn't about to explain how her semi-dead husband was using her wedding ring to communicate with her. "If, uh, that's what you want." He scratched the back of his head. "You're certain you're all right?"

"No, I'm not." The candor of her own words surprised her. But she didn't bother trying to rescind them.

"Then let's be off. Yare wolves can be thick in these parts of the woods at night." He began walking and glanced over his shoulder. "What do you want to go to the capital for, lass? Do you have family there?"

She had a Reaper King to kill. But telling him so wouldn't help anything. "Something like that."

***

Author's Note: Working on the sneak peek! And a few "pretty please's" would be very motivating. ;)

UPDATE: The sneak peek is up!

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