“What’s he saying?” Zane asked, frowning at the ghoul. Even though he’d helped Harper, the daemon king didn’t trust a soul-eater, and I understood why. After all, Zane had been raised to be a soul-eater, too, by his father, Shaytan. Until not that long ago, Neraka had been a cesspool of living, breathing ghouls, in a way. They didn’t have subtle forms or ghastly appearances, but they consumed the spirits of innocent people.
There was never anything truly good about creatures who fed on something so pure, in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but agree. My people, the Exiled Maras, had done the same.
“He likes it here,” I said. “But he knows he can’t stay.”
“What will you do next?” Harper asked the ghoul.
“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll enjoy my freedom for as long as I can. I promised Ibrahim I’d stick to eating corpses, so maybe I’ll find myself a cemetery somewhere to live in,” Herbert replied.
“What about souls?” I asked.
“I’m a creature of habit and of my word,” Herbert shot back, slightly offended. He glanced at Harper. “But you, darling, your soul smells incredible. I’m still amazed I was able to control myself as well as I did. Then again, freedom is far more scrumptious than one indulgence. However, going forward, I’d advise you not to get yourself killed. I’ll know it, straightaway, and I will come for you.”
The thought of that happening chilled both Harper and me to the bone. I moved closer to her, while she kept her position in the pool, hot spring water bubbling around her. She gave Herbert a wary smile. “But I’d have a Reaper making sure I move on.”
“Don’t underestimate a ghoul who’s set his sights on a particular soul. I may be savage, Harper… but I do know how to get what I want,” Herbert replied dryly.
Despite the menacing significance of his words, I couldn’t help but smile, ever so slightly. The ghoul was simply telling Harper to stay alive, using the threat of his ravenous appetite to deter her from leaving this world before her time. After having sheltered her soul inside him, I figured he knew Harper almost as well as I did. He was aware of how daring and sometimes even reckless she could be, especially when it came to protecting the people she loved. Harper was still the “cool cucumber” of her crew, but there was a vulnerability: she couldn’t stand watching her loved ones suffer.
So, yes, I appreciated Herbert’s warning. It came at a most auspicious time, given these new developments.
“You, on the other hand, and your friends… you have your work cut out for you,” Herbert said to me. “Death’s scythe is a mighty precious tool.”
I nodded, still adjusting to the entire concept of Thieron. Death’s most precious tool was missing, and I couldn’t even begin to fathom the implications. Having this understanding of why Death had not been able to intervene until now did, at least, help clear up some things—it did answer our most burning question.
“Our friends are on Mortis now,” I said. “They’re about to find Death and talk to her.”
Herbert shuddered and took a few steps back. He clicked his black tongue. “I doubt that will end well for them.”
“What’s he saying now?” Zane asked, still frowning. “Does he know something more than what he’s told Ibrahim or Harper?”
The ghoul shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I just know not to piss off Death. The only reason why ghouls exist to this day is because she doesn’t have Thieron anymore. We stay off the radar, though… I’m hoping that, if she gets Thieron back, she won’t bother with us.”
“Well, she hasn’t sent Reapers out to hunt you,” Harper replied. “Maybe you simply aren’t at the top of her priority list. Maybe she has allowed you to live because she wants to see how you evolve… or, I guess, devolve.”
“Perhaps. Either way, if your friends are already so close to her, I’d best bid my farewell now and go as far away from here as possible,” Herbert said. “It has been a pleasure, darling. And remember my warning. Do not die, or I will cross the vast fabric of space to come eat your soul myself, and no Reaper will stand in my way.”
She grinned. “I know that’s a lie, but I do appreciate your concern. It’s heartwarming. Thank you, Herbert. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you…” She gasped. “Oh, Herbert, wait! Back on Neraka’s moon, you said you’d tell me. The original ghouls hunting us, they used a swamp witch spell on you,” she added and looked at Zane, Fiona, and me. “The main ghoul, Kill. He said something like ‘Revellis,’ I think, and he tapped Herbert and made him visible, forcibly keeping him in his physical form for a few minutes. Enough to almost catch us.”
“Swamp witch magic?” I asked, quite confused. “Since when do original ghouls fumble with swamp witch magic?”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s the kind of mojo that can be used by anyone who knows the right formulas and words.”
“A long time ago, some of the ancient swamp witches—a few of the very first of their kind—made it into the Supernatural Dimension,” Herbert explained to Harper and me. “I do remember Kill mentioning he’d stuck around when one of them died while trying to cross over. At the time, the swamp witches had the knowledge and the strength to open their own portals, but that was tens of thousands of years ago. Anyway, long story short, Kill snagged her soul right after she died, while his crew distracted the Reaper in charge of taking her away. They held on to her for years, tormenting her for spells and information. I believe Revellis was one of the main takeaways from that experience.”
Harper relayed Herbert’s account to Fiona and Zane, prompting the daemon king to ask his follow-up question. “So, what does Revellis do, specifically? How did the swamp witch know about it, and what happened to her soul?”
Herbert sighed. “Revellis was something only that particular witch knew, from what Kill told me. She’d dealt with his kind before, prior to her death, and the Word had helped her. Revellis is a contact spell; it reveals ghouls in their subtle form. It’s quite precious and rare. Kill and his crew haven’t shared it with anyone else. As for her soul, I’m afraid it kept Kill and his gang quite sated for about five centuries.”
The thought gave me the chills, but I had to admit I was pretty grateful for the information. “So, all I need to do is whisper ‘Revellis’ and tap the ghoul in its subtle form for him to be unable to hide himself over the course of a few minutes, huh?”
Herbert nodded. “Pretty much, yes. Therein lies the challenge, of course. You have to be extremely careful and mind the subtlest changes in the air. A sentry’s True Sight might not help, because it only reveals the hidden physical things. Ghouls move between dimensions, hence their normally unbreakable invisibility. But, I must say, knowledge of this spell does come in handy in dire times. Now, I believe it’s time for me to move along.” The ghoul measured me from head to toe, grinning and flashing his sharp canines. “You ought to be careful, sir. Troubled times are ahead.”
Without waiting for a response, Herbert shimmered and disappeared. I shivered, overwhelmed by ice-cold chills, despite the heat coming from the pool. That had not been a simple farewell, but more like a warning. I had a feeling Herbert knew more than he’d said, but Ibrahim had freed him, and we didn’t have the time or the knowledge required to capture and force him into telling us more. Ghouls were exceptionally elusive, not to mention dangerous, and we had much bigger fish to fry.
Silence settled across the room, with only the sound of rushing hot spring water left. Harper exhaled, looking at me. “We need to tell Taeral and the others about the scythe and Revellis. Chances are the spell might work on Reapers, too. They tread between worlds, as well, just like ghouls.”
I only wondered how they’d be able to use that information about Thieron to get Death to cooperate. Could they, perhaps, offer to find it? Where would they even start the search? Obviously, Brendel didn’t just leave that thing lying around, since it was missing. Even so, it had to be done, I thought. Finding Thieron and returning it to Death seemed like the only viable option—if she accepted our offer to help, instead of sending Taeral and his team away or, worse, killing them.
Death was unpredictable and unknown to us. We had to consider all possible scenarios, and, I had to admit, that scared me the most.
A bright flash startled us all. The torches on the wall burst, suddenly, their flames swelling and taking on a bluish hue. I held my breath, watching the fires dim. The pool room succumbed to semi-darkness, as mere flickers were left to burn, the fires weakened and reduced.
Fiona sucked in a breath. “This is exactly like what Taeral described on Cerix when they killed Brann…”
“Oh, no…” Harper murmured, pain flowing through her like a river of pins and needles. I felt it all on top of my own, as the worst thing that could happen to Neraka… happened.
“Ramin may very well be dead now,” Zane said, his voice shaky.
We knew there was a replacement Hermessi for him—his son—but he was an ally of Brendel. He was hostile and, together with the others, we’d be dealing with four hostile Hermessi on Neraka. Up until now, fire had been our friend. As grief swelled inside us all, burning bright and red against the weakened torch lights, I understood the exact amount of trouble we were in.
Neraka was no longer safe for GASP. The Hermessi were gaining power, and they were beginning to show hostility to others besides Taeral and his crew. We’d seen it with Mount Agrith and Calliope, for example. It was only a matter of time before something happened here, as well.
I felt sorry for Ramin. He’d gone down fighting for what he believed in, yes. But he was gone. And the Nerakians were left to fend for themselves.
Ben
River stood by my crystal casing, watching me.
