Page 38

Chapter 37

Selestina

I look around the hallway and see a broken wooden panel. I open in and see the inner skeleton of the tavern. Perfect. I shimmy my way up the wooden beams.

The space between the roof and the ceiling is narrow, but I've squeezed into worse places. I press my body flat against the wood and inch along, trying not to make any noise.

As I crawl forward, murmurs of voices reach me from below. I don't catch their words yet, just enough to make out that something's wrong. My heart races. I wasn't expecting anything this massive, just some secret meeting of disgruntled nobles or traitors. But the more distinct the words get, the more I am sure this is bad. The feeling of unease snakes along my neck.

My hands shake slightly as I reach the edge of the ceiling where the wooden beams meet the stone wall. There's a small crack, a crevice just wide enough to see through if I press my eye against it. I glance down, and the sight below hits me like a punch to the gut .

The kings.

The five kings of Tonalli.

All five of them.

They sit around a large circular table. All with varying levels of nonchalance. I recognize them all at once. Rey Huehueteotl of Xochitlalpan, Rey Tezcatlipoca of Itzcalli, Rey Chalchiuhtotolin of Atlacoya, Rey Itztli of Metztli, and Rey Xiuhtecuhtli of Tepetl. All of them, under one roof. Together.

This doesn't make any sense. The kings despise each other. That's common knowledge. Their kingdoms have been at a silent war for as long as I can remember, fighting over land, power, and trade routes. There hasn't been peace between them in decades. Yet here they are, gathered together in secret, as if they're real allies. Everyone knows the alliances made years ago were just a front to give the illusion that citizens of Tonalli were safe.

If this was a council meeting, then okay, but it isn’t. It’s every king with one guard. This is meant to be a secret.

I clap my hand over my mouth to hold back a gasp. This is so much bigger than I'd thought. Much bigger.

“What are we going to do about him?” Rey Tezcatlipoca is the first to slice through the low murmurs. He sounds sharp, annoyed. “The Shadow Reaper is growing more dangerous by the day. Alexander has let him believe he can go rogue and not follow orders. He holds too much power.”

My heart skips a beat. They're talking about the Shadow Reaper? About Alexander? The men below begin murmuring in agreement, their tones low but laced with tension.

Rey Huehueteotl stepped forward, his enormous build and deliberate movements demanding the attention of all. His eyes narrowed, and I can feel the scorn in his voice. “ Alexander thinks he controls the Reaper, but it's becoming clear that the Reaper may be in control of him. He is a wild card, a danger to the balance of Tonalli.”

I swallow hard as my heart takes off in my chest. The kings fear the Reaper.

My blood runs cold. They fear me.

“And what do we do? You know he murdered my wife!” Rey Chalchiuhtotolin speaks next, his voice cutting through the fake niceness. “Let him continue to rise? Let Alexander continue to gather all that power under the misguided notion of keeping him in check? We all know what happens should we let this get out of hand. The masquerade ball was a complete joke. He had the reaper kill the drunk on purpose.”

“Alexander's hold is slipping,” Rey Itztli says, his voice dark, sending a shiver down my spine. “And if he loses control of the Shadow Reaper, he'll lose control of her , the Red Queen, too. The balance we've all maintained for so long will be destroyed.”

What are they talking about? I always do everything that Alexander asks of me. I never step out of line.

They've allowed Alexander to think he has more control over things than what is actually true. He's acted like the puppet master since the beginning, but here are the real kings, the ones pulling the real strings. My stomach churns as everything I had thought to be true, unravels right in front of me.

But what they say next sends ice running through my veins.

“What of the prophecy?” Rey Xiuhtecuhtli growls low, his voice dangerous. He looks around at the rest, and a heavy silence falls over the room. For a moment, no one speaks, each weighing their words carefully .

“The girl,” Rey Tezcatlipoca finally says, his tone venomous. “The one born of moonlight and darkness. It's already in motion.”

My breath catches in my throat. The prophecy. The one Alexander hinted at but never gave me any details about. A girl born of moonlight and darkness.

That can't be real.

It's just some old legend, a myth told to scare people into submission. But the kings, they're talking about it like it's not only real, but a threat they can't afford to ignore.

Rey Huehueteotl folds his arms, his expression grim. “If this prophecy is true, if the girl is out there, then she is more dangerous than the Shadow Reaper. If she rises, everything we’ve built, everything we’ve fought for, will be undone.”

“We cannot allow this girl to take power,” Rey Chalchiuhtotolin adds, his voice edged with urgency. “She would unite the kingdoms, bring them under her control. Not after everything we have done to secure power.”

My heart pounds so hard I’m sure they’ll hear it below. A girl who will take power over Tonalli? Who could they be talking about?

“We find her,” Rey Itztli growls, his eyes dark with fury. "And when we do, we end her before she has a chance to fulfill that prophecy.

“We have let Alexander play his games for too long,” Rey Xiuhtecuhtli adds. “But this is larger than him. The girl must be taken care of. The reaper too. The kings will continue to stay in power. We will not allow some moonlit child or a disgruntled, unhinged assassin to take what rightfully belongs to us.”

My hands are shaking. I can't breathe. They're talking about killing her. This girl, whoever she is, is powerful enough to threaten five kings, and they're afraid of her. They're afraid she'll rise and take everything from them.

And if they're afraid of her, that means they'll do anything in their power to stop her.

I slowly back away from the crevice, my mind spinning. The kings, all of them, are united in this. They’re terrified of losing their power, and they see this girl and the Shadow Reaper as the only things standing between them and complete control of Tonalli, which they already have. They’ll kill her if they find her.

I crawl back across the beams, my heart still racing, trying to make sense of everything I’ve just heard.

The Shadow Reaper. Alexander. The prophecy. The girl born of moonlight and darkness.

Whomever she is, she's in more danger than she knows.

And so am I.

Then, the wood beneath me creaks.

My heart stops.

I freeze mid crawl, my entire body tensing as every muscle locks in place.

Below, through the small crevice, I see the moment the kings’ heads snap up in unison, their eyes darting to the ceiling, to the shadows where I’m hiding. My pulse thunders in my ears, the blood rushing so fast I’m afraid they’ll hear it. Shit.

“Who is there?” Rey Tezcatlipoca’s voice cuts through the tension, low and dangerous.

I don't move. I don't breathe. Don't make a sound , I remind myself. I've been in worse situations. I've trained for moments like this. Just stay quiet, and they won't find me. Will shadows protect me again? Or was that a fluke?

The weight of their gaze is unbearable. Even though I know they can't see me, the darkness hiding me, I feel like I'm exposed, dangling above them like bait.

The kings are silent now, all on high alert, listening, searching the shadows. My hands press against the beams beneath me, my body still as stone, every instinct screaming at me to move, to run. But I can't. Not yet. If I move, they'll hear me. I just have to wait it out.

I glance towards the crack, barely able to see them now that I've pulled back, but I can hear the tension in the room. The rustle of cloaks, the scrape of a chair. They're ready for something, anything. They're paranoid, which makes sense. They're conspiring against the prophecy, and against me.

“Whoever it is, show yourself,” Rey Itztli bellows, his voice cuts with as much sharpness as the knife carried at his belt.

I press my body even flatter against the wood, holding my breath. I slow my heart beat so the vampire king can’t hear my anxiety.

Come on, come on. Stay calm. They won't find you. They can't.

For a few excruciating moments, the room falls deadly silent. The kings paused like wolves poised to strike. Every nerve in my body screams at me to move, to disappear, to get the hell out of here before I am caught. But I know how to stay hidden. I just have to keep it together.

Then from the corner of the room, a man steps forward—the tavern’s bartender that I saw when I walked in. He moves quickly, bowing slightly to the kings, his face pale as he gestures toward the ceiling. “My apologies, your majesties,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. “It’s most likely a rat. We’re so close to the Dark Forest that critters often make their way inside the tavern. ”

A rat. Of course.

Rey Huehueteotl grunts, clearly annoyed but not entirely convinced. “A rat,” he repeats, his eyes still scanning the ceiling as if he’s trying to spot something. “That sound wasn’t a rat.”

“It happens often, I’m afraid,” the bartender continues, his tone deferential. “We’ve had problems with them for years. This close to the forest, the tavern gets all manner of pests.”

Rey Xiuhtecuhtli narrows his eyes, but slowly, he sits back in his chair. The tension in the room shifts, but it doesn't disappear. They don't fully believe the excuse, but it's enough to make them drop their guard a fraction. Thank the gods.

Rey Tezcatlipoca is still frowning, his eyes darting between the waiter and the shadows. “I don't like being spied on,” he growls, “whatever it may be, a rat or something else.”

The bartender passes out more ale, his hands shaking slightly. “Of course, my lord. We'll make sure the tavern is cleared of any vermin. I'll see to it myself.”

There's a long silence. Rey Chalchiuhtotolin waves a hand dismissively. “Enough. We have more important matters to discuss than rats.”

The room relaxes just slightly, but I don't. Not yet.

I breathe in shallow breaths and wait until the kings turn back to the table, their voices hushed once more, then I start inching my way backward, fighting with myself to make slow motions. I do my best to maneuver myself without making anymore creaks.

I slip through the beams, backing away until the voices below are once more muffled. My hands shake, my heart wants to race, but I force it to slow, and I press on. I have to get out of here before they change their minds, before they decide to search the tavern.

Calm. Quiet. I repeat it over and over again in my mind until finally I have crawled far enough that I feel myself out of danger.

When I reach the point near the exit, I pause, and my breath catches in my throat. I can still hear them speaking, the prophecy, the girl born of moonlight and darkness.

Of the Shadow Reaper.

They are terrified of me, but they don't know who I am.

And if they ever find out, they won't hesitate to kill me.

I lean against the side of the tavern, hidden by the shadows cast by the moonlight, catching my breath before I make the journey back to the academy.

The night air is cold, so I pull the hood tighter around my face. I need to get out of here. I need to disappear before the kings leave the tavern.

I turn back towards the village, about to take my leave, when I see movement around the side door of the tavern. My hand instinctively goes to the blade strapped to my thigh. I squint my eyes to try and get a better look at who it might be. The bartender from before steps into view.

I narrow my eyes, grip my blade a little tighter, and watch him as he draws near with a small, cloth wrapped bread clutched in his hand. My muscles tense, ready to strike if he's a threat, but there's something different about him now. His movements are careful and soft, not someone looking for a fight. When he's close enough, he stops and raises his hands in a gesture of peace, the cloth wrapped bread in a firm grasp.

“You don't need that dagger,” he says calmly, placating me. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

I blink, not relaxing my grip, as he holds the bag toward me. I look into its open flap and then back at him and my thoughts trying to articulate what is going on.

Wait.

How does he know that I am here? Does he know who I am?

“How did you—” I begin to ask, but he cuts me off, his tone smooth and reassuring.

“Ah. Child, I sensed you the moment you entered the village,” he says, keeping his voice low so that it barely carries in the night air. “And you were not quiet up there.” He gives a soft chuckle. He smells like a mage, but I can’t quite tell. If he is, then he must be very old, because the wrinkles next to his eyes and grey hair show that he has lived a very long life.

I step back suddenly wary. “Why? Why would you help me?” He distracted the kings.

The bartender's eyes soften, and he sets the bag of bread down at my feet, keeping his hands up to show he means no harm. “I am an oracle,” he says simply.

I blink, confusion flooding me. “What? No, that’s dead magic. Oracles don’t exist anymore.”

He shakes his head, light dancing in his eyes. “Ah,” He chuckles, “But then that would mean you are extinct too, no? The Shadow Reaper. The collector of souls.”

Well, shit. He’s got me speechless.

How does he know? I don’t sense the same maliciousness from him as I did with Etzli.

“I don't—” I start, but he cuts me off again, his eyes glinting with something I can't quite name.

“You don't have to understand it,” he says quietly. “Your secret is safe with me, child.” He pauses as his eyes turn white. He then looks at me with a sense of urgency. “Go, now. You don’t have much time. ”

I am silent for a moment. This man, he's looking at me with such fondness, like I'm something more than just a killer. And it leaves me shaken in a way I don't expect.

Before I can ask him more, before I can say anything, he glances back toward the tavern. His face hardens. “Now, Reaper!”

He turns to leave, but before he steps away, he stops and looks back at me, his voice soft, but urgent. “Stay alive, Reaper. Just for a little while longer. You're more powerful than you even realize,” he adds softly, his eyes serious. “Stay alive. He's not ready for you yet.”

And with that, he slips back into the shadows, leaving me standing there in stunned silence.

He's not ready for you yet.

The words echo in my mind, sinking deep. My heart is racing, my mind spinning, but there's no time to make sense of it. I grab the bag of bread and slip into the darkness, disappearing into the night.

I don't know who “he” is. I don't know why this man thinks I'm someone worth saving, someone good. But one thing is clear, nothing is as simple as it seems.

And I’m running out of time to figure it all out.