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Authors: Christopher Mannino

Tags: #YA Fantasy

School of Deaths (23 page)

BOOK: School of Deaths
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“Mr. Stoneridge, you need to—”

Luc walked over, guiding the blonde woman. She looked like she’d been crying.

“That way,” said Luc, pointing with his scythe. “Go die. You, too, old man.”

“I want to—” started the woman. Luc smacked her. She started walking across the water. Elias said nothing, but clutched Suzie’s hand.

“You gonna let him go?” asked Luc. “Or do I have to do it for you?” He raised his scythe.

“That’s enough,” said Frenchie, leaping forward. He pulled a dagger from his cloak and slashed at his younger brother. Luc vanished in a cloud of dust.

“I’m sorry,” said Frenchie. He stepped away and Frank glared at him. Something glinted in Frank’s hand. Did he have a dagger too?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” said Suzie, trying to apologize to Elias. He smiled and bent down, kissing her on the cheek.

“Most fun I’ve had in years, little angel. Er, Death. But I do think I’ll be going now. Someone’s waiting for me on the other side.”

Suzie blushed and wiped away a tear as the old man walked across the water and entered the massive iron door. The door vanished and the scythe relaxed in her grip.

“What the Hell was that about?” demanded Frank. He pushed Frenchie, knocking the taller boy back a step.

“I stopped him,” said Frenchie.

“Your brother raised his scythe. He was going to strike her.”

“I told you, I stopped him,” said Frenchie. “Suzie, can I talk to you in private?”

“Anything you have to say, you say in front of us,” said Frank. Billy nodded.

“I’m gonna head back and talk to Hann,” said the other boy on Frenchie’s team. The short, wiry boy was still tied to Frenchie’s waist with a tether. The third tether hung limply.

“I’ll be back soon, Mark,” said Frenchie. “Don’t let him go easy on Luc.”

Mark nodded and pulled a dagger from his robe. Its blade was curved, like a small scythe. Mark nicked himself and vanished in a puff of smoke.

“We all have ’em,” explained Frank. “The older students have to carry them on Reapings in case of an emergency. They send you straight back to Hann.”

“It’s only us now, Frenchie,” said Billy. “Start talking.”

“I’m sorry for what he did. Luc shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s your fault,” said Billy. “You’ve been egging him on.”

“I’m trying to apologize.” He paused, and Suzie sensed a great deal of turmoil in his expression. The way he looked at her, with longing in his gaze, like Billy’s looks before he kissed her. Or was that how she imagined him?

“Spit it out,” said Frank.

“You don’t understand,” said Frenchie. “When I first came two years ago, it was hard enough, but you can’t imagine what it felt like to meet
him
here. My own brother. In the World of the Dead.”

“You set him against Suzie?” asked Frank. “You had no right—”

“Everyone was against Suzie at the beginning. She was different. She was…convenient.”

“Convenient?” asked Frank. “A nice target for you and your friends to bully? Is that what you mean?”

“It wasn’t personal,” said Frenchie. “She let me turn my anger somewhere. I was beyond anger. They brought two brothers here.”

“We’re all angry,” said Suzie. “None of us want to be here. You had no right to treat me poorly. You’ve been picking on me the whole year. What have I ever done to you?”

Frenchie’s mouth tightened. “Nothing.” He looked at the ground.

“Say that again,” demanded Frank.

“I said it once,” said Frenchie. “But whether she did or didn’t, my brother sort of snapped after try-outs. He wanted to literally kill you. He’s not normally like this. Luc’s a good kid.”

“You hadn’t seen him in two years,” said Frank. “Maybe he’d changed.”

“Maybe,” muttered Frenchie, looking away. “He lost me. For years, I was gone. He’d probably given up, convinced I was dead and then finds me here. Whatever my disappearance did to Mom and Dad, he saw firsthand. I can’t imagine what’s going on in his head.” Frenchie paused and looked up. Tears wet his eyes. Frenchie, who’d she always thought of as an enemy. This Death was only a boy after all, a scared and angry little boy. She pitied him.

“Listen,” said Frenchie, “I’m not saying I did the right thing. I’m saying I’m sorry.”

“Tell your brother to lay off,” said Billy.

“He won’t listen, but I’ll try. I’ll catch you guys later.” He pulled out his dagger and hesitated.

“I might still act mean at times,” he said, “but don’t listen. You’re not a bitch, no matter what they say.” He nicked himself and vanished.

“No matter what
you
say, you mean,” muttered Billy.

“C’mon,” said Frank, “the Reaping’s done, let’s head back.”

“We were seen,” said Suzie. “Hann will know, won’t he?”

“Probably. But it happens every year.” Frank smiled. “They expect it. They used to let the first years have their Reaping right around Halloween, in case the living spotted them. Of course, the teachers complained because it was too much to cram in. Now they chalk it up to pranks or insanity. Not our problem.”

“Hann will be annoyed,” said Billy, “and as much as Frank downplays it, it’s not good. Yet in your case, I wouldn’t worry. He had Deaths sent back early.” He took out his own small dagger. “Hann himself told us that they haven’t had to use these in over a hundred years. He’s got bigger things to deal with today.”

 

Chapter Eighteen

The Scent

 

Hann hadn’t been distracted, he’d been furious. For two weeks after the Reaping he didn’t even speak. A chubby Death named Professor Rayn discussed the need for
absolute
discipline
during a Reaping. It was
unconscionable
, Rayn said, to interfere with a Reaping. If Reaping was a Death’s primary role, to interfere with that role was almost as bad as slaying another Death.

Suzie felt conflicted. On the one hand, she was grateful Hann hadn’t singled her out, and was instead punishing Luc’s behavior. On the other, she was petrified. They couldn’t even practice with the scythes. During two classes, Sindril himself had come in and scolded the class.

The only Death who seemed unfazed by the change in the class was Luc. Every day, Suzie came to Hann’s class, sat, and listened as Rayn scolded them. Suzie glanced at Billy or Frank, but no one said a word. The class never moved or spoke until the period was over. The next day, they’d repeat everything. Hann stared at each of them, every day, sitting to the side of his desk. He never said a word, and never looked at Rayn or Sindril. He seemed totally lost.

He wasn’t the only one who was lost.

Four months after Styxia, they were no closer to starting the plan.

“That was painful,” said Frank as they left Hann’s class. “How much longer can this go on?”

“Who is Rayn anyway?” asked Billy. “Why does he have to come in and lecture us?”

“Rayn? He’s got nowhere else to be lately,” said a third year named Jeff. “Since Styxia that is.”

“What do you mean since Styxia?” asked Suzie.

“Rayn’s the College expert on ’Mentals. With the ’Mentals gone, there’s nothing for him to do except play the disciplinarian. They assume Hann didn’t get through to us, and that an extra scolder will help. If I find out who messed up a Reaping, I’ll kick ’em right in the nuts.”

Suzie kept her mouth shut. Hann had never mentioned Luc, or even told the class exactly what happened. At first, she considered telling her classmates, but what was the point? Besides, if they discovered what Luc had done, eventually they’d find out she’d been seen.

“Rayn’s a ’Mental expert?” asked Billy.

“That’s what Joey said. He had a class with him, but it’s suspended now. Seems they don’t want to think about ’Mentals here. Not after what happened.” Jeff shrugged and turned a corner.

Suzie glanced at Billy but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He wore his mask daily now, hiding the disfigured face.

“Meeting. Nine,” she muttered. He nodded and walked away.

* * * *

“We need to ask Rayn for help,” said Suzie, “to find out where the ’Mentals are. The Final Test is in six weeks. We do this now, or not at all.”

Her eyes adjusted to the dim, dusty white light of the flowers in the library. A spider crawled across the table, and she flicked it away. It scampered under a book.

“What do we say when he asks why?” asked Billy. “What if he tells Sindril?”

“We have to take that risk. We have nothing, and I’m sick of going nowhere. I’m going to ask him tomorrow after class.”

“No,” said Frank. “I’ll ask. You stand out too much Suzie. I’m just another Death.”

“This is my fight,” she said. “I’m the one who got you into this. I’m the one Sindril targeted, and Athanasius said I’m the one they’re trying to keep safe. I’ll ask.”

“Frank’s right,” said Billy. “If one of us asks where the ’Mentals live, we at least stand a chance of Rayn not noticing.”

They were right. They had to be cautious.

“Not Frank,” she said. “It has to be a first year asking an entirely innocent question. To help with—”

“An art project,” said Jason. “I see where you’re going.”

“But why—” started Frank.

“And Jason’s not in our Applications class,” continued Suzie. “Any question from him will seem unrelated to us.”

“That sounds shaky.”

“I’ll do it,” said Jason. “Let’s meet back here tomorrow. Same time.”

“Good luck,” said Suzie.

Frank looked like he wanted to protest, but Suzie rose. The decision stood. As much as she needed her friends, she called the shots, which was a strange reversal. She’d been isolated, struggling to get them to believe. Now they followed her. Jason would ask.

As they left, Suzie waited an extra minute before opening the bookcase. No one was in the house. She nodded to the others and they walked out. They’d return at different times, by different routes. Were they being followed, or was Suzie paranoid?

She walked into the cool night air and glanced up at the crescent moon. A scythe of white sliced the souls of stars, cleaving the heavens. A cold crescent moon stared down; yet, for an instant, perhaps, she saw a smile.

The smile of Athanasius.

She smiled back at the sky.

* * * *

“It’s the smell,” said Jason.

He peered over the dusty table, tossing an old book to the floor. A pile of dust rose, catching the dim glow of the flowers.

“What smell?” asked Billy.

They’d met in the library two days in a row. Suzie’s excitement had never been this high. For the first time since arriving in this world she had something to think about other than the Final Test. Sindril had brought her here, she was sure. Sindril wanted a Dragon Key, and somehow he wanted her to help find it. Sindril. She didn’t even care what he wanted. He’d killed her friend. She couldn’t leave this world until he paid the price.

“What did he say exactly?” asked Suzie.

“At first he wouldn’t answer,” said Jason. “I told him Cronk had mentioned he was the smartest Death in the faculty. You should’ve seen him perk up to that. I explained how I was doing research for a special portrait about the Revolt, but didn’t know much about the ’Mentals.”

“Smart,” said Billy.

“Still wasn’t easy,” said Jason. “Tried to ask in the halls, but he was too busy. He brought me to his office at the base of East Tower. Man, that place is freaky.”

“And?” prompted Suzie.

“You ever noticed how the World of the Dead smells like strawberries?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve definitely noticed.”

“Well, according to Rayn, it doesn’t. What we smell is the ’Mentals. I stopped short of asking more and thanked him.”

“You mean, if we can track the smell, we’d find where they live,” said Suzie.

“How are we going to do that?” asked Billy.

“Deaths steal from the Mortal World,” she replied. “They stole clothes for me, when I first got here. Maybe we could steal a dog?”

“That
stealing
you mentioned isn’t easy,” said Frank. “Only a certified Death can cross into the Mortal World without constant supervision. And if it was a living dog? I don’t think it’s possible. Besides, how long would it take to train? No, we need another way. Yesterday, I remembered Cibran mentioning his home village. It’s north of the College, in the forest. If you head north and follow the scent yourselves, maybe you’ll be able to find them.”

Suzie sat for a moment. Would they be able to track the ’Mentals themselves?

“Maybe there’s a map here in the library,” added Billy.

They searched for hours, but didn’t find one.

“We should still try,” said Suzie. “I’ll come back to the library every day and try to find a map, you guys can come too. We’ll go in a week, whether we find one or not.”

* * * *

Saturday arrived and they’d found nothing. She looked out her window as a gentle rain came and passed. Billy led her outside. The sun emerged from a cloud and a rainbow appeared, stretching behind West Tower. They sat together on a bench in a courtyard, looking up. He put an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head against him.

“Has everyone noticed?”

“It’s not a big deal,” said Billy. “I’m okay with it.”

“We’ll go without one.”

“Wait. What?” He turned to her. Without a mask, she saw his full disfigurement. Bruises and small cuts covered the right side of his face. The wound on his left side had healed poorly, and was scarred and surrounded by a brown tinge.

“You were talking about my face, right?” he asked.

“I was talking about something else,” she said. “But never mind.” She didn’t want to say that they were looking for a map. Probably no one was listening, but still…

She looked up at the colors hanging in the sky. A bird flew overhead, crying out, and fluttering toward the mountain of West Tower.

“Tell me about yourself, Billy,” she said. “We’ve been friends for months, but you’ve never said anything about your life
before
.”

“Before I came to this world? Before I became a Death?” Billy laughed. “Seems like ages ago. A different life.”

“Frenchie said his brother got pulled here. I can’t imagine watching your brother go missing, only to find him here.”

BOOK: School of Deaths
8.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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