Guardian of Souls

By Nim Riel

Four worlds. An exiled King. One distrusted Reaper.

As the daughter of the King of the Underworld, Sayaka is the least trusted member of the Reapers. When the souls start disappearing and she's accused of treason, she sets out to clear her name.

Accompanied by a reluctant daemon, Sayaka seeks answers in the living world 700 years after her life ended. With one world lost, two others threatening to fall into chaos and her father ruling the fourth, the fate of life and death hangs in the balance.

If she fails, it isn't just her life on the line.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nim Riel
• Release date: Feb 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005650810

Nim Riel

Nim Riel is a British author currently living in the USA. She enjoys stories with strong female characters, magic and paranormal creatures, undead or otherwise.Outside of writing, her hobbies include painting, music and video games.She lives with three boisterous cats and a dog who is too smart for her own good.

Book preview

Glossary

-sama – An honorific to show the highest level of respect.

-san – The most popular (and gender neutral) honorific. Used for Mr., Mrs., or Ms.

-chan – An informal version of –san. Mostly used to address children and women.

Akashi – The spirit world. Home to deities, spirits, Reapers and daemons.

Akashic Record – An ethereal database hosting the lives and experiences of every living creature. Reapers can access it at will.

Aokigahara – A dense woodland at the base of Mt. Fuji in Japan, also known as the ‘suicide forest’.

Corporalis – The living world (or Earth). Home to humans and daemons.

Mythicalis – The daemon world. Currently uninhabitable.

Naraka – The City of the Dead, located at the heart of Akashi. Primarily the home of Reapers and the Spirit Guard.

Okunoin Cemetery – The oldest cemetery in Japan

Chapter One

Silence met Sayaka as she stepped into the cavern hosting the port for Charon’s ship. It was an uncertain quiet, born of wariness and second-hand discontent.

The ship sat proudly on the waters of the Styx, the light emitted by the lamp hanging from the arching bow flickering over the souls stumbling onto dry land. They were each ashen-faced and trembling, glancing between their new surroundings and the ship with furtive expressions.

In the stone cavern, everything echoed and the tap of footsteps underlined the murmured directions offered by the four Reapers standing on the dock, their long black coats setting them apart from the new arrivals. Despite their reassuring smiles, tension lined their shoulders and broadcasted their concern to the people seeking their guidance. In response, Charon’s passengers stayed silent and kept their heads bowed as they crowded together.

Sayaka turned her attention away from her co-workers and toward the gathered souls, her coat brushed her ankles as she scanned the faces. There were less than she expected and it didn’t take her long to find the only child sat among the group.

Cradled in the arms of two women, neither bearing any resemblance to him, Kenji brightened when he saw her. Heedless of the wariness his guardians directed at Sayaka, he squirmed out of their reach and launched himself at her, hugging her waist.

You came! Kenji exclaimed.

Of course. She hugged him back and knelt as soon as he pulled away. The worry she’d seen only a short time ago was still present but less pronounced. What did I tell you?

He glared at the docked wooden vessel. I didn’t like the boat.

I’ll let you in on a secret.

Face filled with mischief, Kenji offered his ear, cupping his hands around it for good measure.

Sayaka leaned closer to whisper. Nobody does.

Kenji snickered but the cheer shifted into horror as soon as Sayaka stood up. He latched onto her coat. Don’t go!

I won’t. Sayaka pried his fingers free and nodded to her fellow Reapers standing on the port. I just need to talk with my friends, okay?

He pouted but resettled with his two guardians. They hugged him close as Sayaka walked away.

Only one of the Reapers greeted her, the others closed ranks and lowered their voices. She ignored the distrusting looks they shot her.

Sayaka! Edvard beamed, his words laced with a strong Swedish accent his age hadn’t managed to crush. I thought you were on duty.

You have everybody’s schedule memorised, don’t you, Sayaka said.

Edvard gave her a guilty shrug. As the oldest of their workforce, he acted as a guiding light for the others and had an uncanny ability to remember the movements of every Reaper. Considering how many worked in the spirit realm, Sayaka couldn’t help but admire his dedication.

Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Kenji study the other souls with timid, but unrestrained, curiosity. I am.

Edvard followed her eye and hummed, sympathetic, and understanding. Children are always the hardest. It’s good of you to meet him.

It’s part of the job.

Yet you’re one of the few who regularly checks on your charges, whether they think they need it or not. He squeezed her shoulder, his smile warm before his gaze transferred to the gathered souls. Worry etched itself onto his face. This is less than half the number we expected.

Sayaka tugged a hand through her dark hair, wincing when her fingers snagged on a tangle. The sting didn’t alleviate the gnawing ache in the pit of her stomach. Catching the glances from the other Reapers, she forced down her concern, feigning calm.

The list keeps getting longer, Sayaka said. It doesn’t help that we’re crossing fewer names off, even ectoplasm isn’t making much difference.

The three other Reapers bowed their heads together, whispering between themselves.

Edvard rolled his eyes at them. Are you lot going to stand there all day or do your jobs?

All three startled and rushed in separate directions. They wove their way between the souls, logging the arrivals and sending them onward, one at a time.

I haven’t seen anyone using ectoplasm for years, Edvard said. Lantern not good enough for you?

It wasn’t working, Sayaka said.

Come again?

My lantern. It didn’t work.

Edvard hesitated before holding out a hand. Can I see it?

Pulling a palm-sized mirror out of her pocket, Sayaka traced her thumb over the runes etched into the silver frame. She sought the charms hanging from the braided cord, ignoring the tiny ship and hourglass to curl around the miniature lantern.

Once unclipped, the lamp grew to full size. A single jagged crystal sat in the glass casing, emitting a pale green glow.

Edvard turned it over in his hands, studying the engravings on the metal frame. Blue eyes keen but confused behind his wire-frame glasses. Do you have a spare Ki Stone?

That was the first thing I tried. Sayaka removed another stone from her pocket. It gave off the same green sheen and pulsed in her palm. Nothing changed, it’s probably just me.

Nobody else has said anything?

I wouldn’t know.

The Swedish receptionist stared at her. You haven’t spoken with Megumi?

You already know the answer to that. Ki Stone back in her pocket, Sayaka crossed her arms. I’m used to being alone.

That isn’t- Edvard sighed, shaking his head.

He set one hand against the lantern’s glass casing. The jolt of his Ki had the hair on the back of Sayaka’s neck standing on end. More than a few of the souls shivered but only the other Reapers complained.

Warn us next time! one snapped.

Edvard didn’t turn and, although sincere, his apology was distracted.

The lanterns worked by locating Ki, the energy inherent in everything. While Reapers could feel the presence of souls on their own and distinguish between the living and the dead on instinct, lanterns offered a visual sign they were on the right track.

As the stone changed from its neutral green to deep amber, mirroring Edvard’s Ki, Sayaka scowled. The colour change was a familiar sight but one she hadn’t seen at all while meeting her quota.

Of course it works for you, Sayaka muttered. I tried that twice.

Frowning, Edvard adjusted his glasses and handed the lantern back. I’m not sure I fixed it.

Returning the lantern to its place on her mirror’s cord, where it reverted to its original charm size, Sayaka regarded him. His attention stayed on the souls around them, his brow furrowed.

Dread made her chest tight. You think it has something to do with the souls.

All I know is there are more and more souls wandering Corporalis instead of coming here. A smile spread across Edvard’s face. I don’t think laziness is stopping you all from finding them.

Something to do with the living then?

The other Reaper fixed her with a lost expression. I wish I knew.

A tiny hand latched onto Sayaka’s before she could respond. Miss! Miss!

Kenji clung to her arm, his eyes wide and fearful.

She knelt, curling her fingers around his when his grip tightened. What’s wrong?

Kenji ducked behind her, peering at the Reaper standing a few feet away. He said I have to go!

Brow furrowed, the other Reaper crossed his arms. Sayaka dismissed him with a small bow and focused on Kenji. The boy kept staring at a staircase carved into the rock. It stood between two, pale blue, torches but the dim lighting made the passageway more intimidating than they were.

Sayaka had used the stairs countlessly over the years she worked as a Reaper; even she had to admit they looked ominous, especially to a child.

Kenji whimpered and clung closer, whining into Sayaka’s sleeve. I don’t want to go!

She plastered a reassuring smile on her face. Nothing bad will happen, I promise.

I’ll be eaten by a monster! Kenji cried.

Tilting her head, Sayaka considered her options. Children always found the journey the hardest. Without their parents, they were warier of the world.

What if I walk with you? she asked.

Kenji outstretched his pinkie. Promise?

Linking her finger through his, Sayaka nodded. Of course.

Adjusting her hold on Kenji’s hand, Sayaka rose to her feet. He peered up at her, worried but trusting.

The Reaper who had tried to send him off alone sneered at them. Kenji ducked behind Sayaka’s leg, still clutching her hand, and she studied her co-worker. Under her challenging gaze, he huffed and muttered under his breath as he stalked off.

Edvard smiled when she made to apologise for leaving. Go, we’ll manage from here. Besides, Enma will have your head if he catches you slacking off.

He can try, Sayaka muttered, careful to hide her disgust from Kenji’s hearing. We’re supposed to safeguard the souls we shepherd. Our duties don’t end when we hand them over to Charon.

Please don’t let him hear you say that. Edvard waved a hand. Go on, I’ll ask the others about their lanterns too, somebody must have noticed something.

She doubted it would amount to much but didn’t say anything, only offered a shallow bow and tugged on Kenji’s hand.

Edvard adjusted his glasses and leaned down to speak to the boy. Keep her safe for me?

Kenji puffed out his chest with pride, bowed, and hauled Sayaka toward the staircase. Rolling her eyes at Edvard’s humour, Sayaka squeezed Kenji’s hand when he hesitated at the base of the staircase.

Crossing over had to be the soul’s choice; she couldn’t take the first step for him.

One foot in front of the other. Sayaka smiled. I’m right here, okay? I promise nothing bad will happen to you.

Taking a deep breath, Kenji’s nose wrinkled. My chest feels funny.

Sayaka smiled. You’ll get used to that. You don’t need to breathe anymore, after all.

Oh… Kenji eyed the steps again.

Winding upward in a long spiral, the stairs were ancient. Each step was a slightly different height, making the climb arduous even without the deep divots in the centre of each. Water pooled in the middle, making the steps slippery and the Reapers, familiar with the flaws of their home, had long since learned to keep to the walls as they ascended.

The noise of the river was louder now, despite the distance between them and the water. Charon’s port, thanks to the wards, was almost silent in comparison. Along the passage into Limbo, the sound of the river bounced against the stone in a relentless, pounding roar.

Once he started climbing, Kenji met his task with stoic determination. He counted under his breath as they walked and giggled when the water in each of the puddles splashed over his shoes. When they reached the plain brown door at the top, Kenji’s hand trembled in Sayaka’s.

She ignored his pleading expression, keeping her free hand against her side and the other firmly curled around his. Kenji frowned but reached for the handle himself, leading the way into the white expanse on the other side.

As the light faded, a cluttered, but pristine, kitchen came into view. A familial warmth greeted them, the tiny table set for a small gathering. Sayaka half expected to find it packed with people of all ages, laughing and joking as they conversed with old friends and enjoyed a warm meal.

The room, however, was empty except for the single figure standing at the sink.

Humming to herself as she washed dishes, the woman was content in her solitude. White hair hung around her stooped shoulders and Sayaka knew she wasn’t busy so much as biding her time. Waiting, ever patient, for Kenji’s arrival.

Grandma! Kenji released Sayaka’s hand, rushing across the kitchen to hug the woman around the waist. I missed you!

Wearing a solemn smile, his grandmother wrapped him in her arms. Over his head, she met Sayaka’s gaze and mouthed her thanks before focusing on the boy. I missed you too, Little One!

The experience granted by Limbo wasn’t a secret and many Reapers discussed their memories with fondness. Observing the reunion, Sayaka felt like she’d intruded on something sacred. As if one misstep could change the entire meeting.

Chattering away to his grandmother, oblivious to Sayaka’s continued presence in the way only children could be, Kenji didn’t react when she retreated.

The door they entered through still hung open and she slipped through the gap, easing it shut behind her. With a soft click, the latch caught and the chill of the brass handle banished the last remnants of warmth from Kenji’s memory.

In comparison, Limbo’s interior was apathetic. Pillars, carved with the language of ancient civilisations, stretched up to the vaulted ceiling. Although they were cracked with age, they were no less strong.

Each of the souls appeared in its truest form, an orb of light small enough to fit in the gentle cradle of a Reaper’s hand. Kenji’s soul, a vibrant green, blended with the rest, adding his own touch to the dappled spread of colour painting the marble floor.

For a moment, Sayaka lingered, her gaze casting over the delicate charges in her care. Like in the port beneath her feet, there were too few souls present. Where they usually filled every available space between the stone pillars, leaving little room for anyone to pass between them, now they were scattered throughout the room.

In their truest forms, a soul was delicate, fragile in a way even the gentlest brush could cause irrevocable damage. Sayaka, as she crossed the room, moved with confident ease born from centuries of practice. Familiarity guided her between each orb without even the whisper of her coattails behind her.

Not once did she look toward the massive double doors across the chamber. Ornate and engraved with gold, the Judgement Hall doors marked another barrier a soul traversed before passing over.

At the exit, Sayaka spared a single glance back and a well wish to the souls. Then she pushed the door open and stepped out into the City of the Dead.

Chapter Two

As Sayaka stepped out of Limbo, leaving the marble hall behind, she turned her attention inward.

The Akashic Record was an ethereal database, hosting information recorded by generations of human lives. Reapers accessed it frequently to keep up with technological advancements and small, almost insignificant, cultural changes. A way to help them appear more approachable to the souls they collected over the eons.

It wasn’t a physical location and Reapers all viewed the information in various ways. For Sayaka, she found it easiest to imagine the database as a cluttered storeroom. The imagery, in itself, wasn’t strictly necessary but, as a new Reaper with primarily human ideals she found the method to be the only one that made sense to her. After centuries in the same job, she couldn’t bring herself to change it.

By now, meditating on the image was second nature and only required half her concentration, the other focused on her path.

The information she sought wasn’t hard to find. Within her imagined storeroom, the list of souls waiting for collection took the form of a long scroll. It showed the names of every mortal residing in Corporalis. At Sayaka’s prompting, the list focused solely on the recently deceased and, so far, unclaimed by the other Reapers in the field.

Limited to her own country’s division, the scroll usually gave her a handful of names, splitting the workload between her and her co-workers. With so many souls remaining unfound, the Record had resorted to piling them together. Despite the measures, the sheer length of the list was enough to make Sayaka cringe.

A few names disappeared, collected by one of her co-workers. Relieved, Sayaka grasped several names still unclaimed, the victims of a fire in Sapporo.

Destination in mind, Sayaka turned to her surroundings and the storeroom faded into the depths of her mind.

Built into the mountain, Limbo towered over the city, dark and imposing. It swallowed the River Styx as the waters rushed beneath it and, in spite of the torches illuminating the dim interior, the cavern beneath appeared as a gaping chasm.

As the centrepiece of Naraka, a fountain stood at Limbo’s feet. The statue of the Grim Reaper at the focal point watched over the City of the Dead from the safety of his hooded cloak.

At the base of the fountain, eight Reapers gathered in preparation for a group expedition. Incidents large enough to require multiple Reapers were rare but the sight was a familiar one, especially with the number of souls remaining AWOL.

Sayaka, acknowledging the necessity for group work and wanting no part of any of it, skirted around them. Ignoring the dark looks from the few Reapers at the outermost reaches, she made a beeline for the edges of the main square. Far enough away, she wouldn’t kidnap any of her fellows with the vortex created by her mirror.

Why are we teaming up? one of the group demanded. The fire in Sapporo wasn’t that big.

Sayaka closed her eyes. Her breath caught and went down like lead, leaving a dull, throbbing ache in its wake. Every Reaper had a quota to meet and, though she couldn’t explain how, they never stepped on each other’s toes.

Group work wasn’t mandatory and there were more than enough Reapers to enable her to relinquish the duty to someone else.

The others would know. As soon as she latched onto the names on the list, it was easy enough to find out who had agreed to collect certain souls. Her co-workers' disgusted glares already bore into her back, reading her reluctance and hesitation for what it was.

None of them would be surprised if she skipped, they were already on tenterhooks around her and probably expected it. She didn’t want to give them more ammunition to accuse her of neglecting her duty.

Shoving her hands into her pockets to hide their trembling, Sayaka joined the back of the group.

The closest sneered and edged away. Their Ki curled around them, an invisible wall that made her skin tingle. Sayaka set her shoulders against the weight settling upon her, refusing to let the burden succeed in pushing her away.

Her next inhale refused to pass her throat, sticking in a discomforting lump. Sayaka didn’t bother drawing another. Breathing, for Reapers, was unnecessary.

Minor disaster or not, there are too many souls missing in the first place. Akira, the group’s designated leader and one of the captains of Sayaka’s division, said. The area is big enough to require more help.

But-

You want to complain, take it to Enma-sama. Better yet, go bother someone else. We’ll be done faster without the arguments. Akira snapped. Are we done? Good.

His gaze caught on Sayaka and she resisted the urge to flinch at the barely hidden scowl twisting his lips. He turned away, the mirror in his hand glinting. Without another word he tossed it at the floor. It shattered, the shards gleaming as a rift tore the fabric of time and space, dragging the group inside.

Convenience aside, the portal had its vices.

A vortex of energy, comfort wasn’t an option, and centuries of use never prepared Sayaka for the wave of dizziness accompanying each trip. Finding herself on the wrong side of the city, Akira’s mirror depositing her nowhere near the burned ruins of the mall, didn’t make regaining her bearings any easier.

One of the humans, alive and unaware of her arrival, walked straight through her. He shivered, looking over his shoulder and speeding up. Sayaka stepped out of the main flow of traffic and reached into her pocket.

Travel by mirrors was unconventional but effective. The devices wouldn’t drop someone away from their expected destination unless the original user decided to interfere. Akira’s meddling was an obvious dismissal yet Sayaka couldn’t abide by it, not showing up wasn’t an option.

A soul pushed past her. The force of the collision sending a shockwave down Sayaka’s arm, accompanied by the usual tingle she associated with denizens of the spirit world.

Her brow furrowed. There were no spirits set to be collected anywhere nearby.

Reaching out with her Ki to seek the wayward soul, she found the firefighter strolling away from her. He walked through the people in his way as if they weren’t there and she stared in surprise.

Souls rarely left their death site. They never needed to.

Sayaka hurried after him, catching hold of his arm to stay him. You’re supposed to be on the other side of the city. What are you-?

The firefighter never broke his stride but his Ki lashed out, throwing her away.

Surprised, Sayaka flew straight through the outer wall of an office building before catching herself on a row of filing cabinets. They shook with the collision and toppled over, earning startled shrieks from the humans in the room.

Cringing, Sayaka climbed to her feet. Barely sparing a thought for the people she disturbed – they’d put the noise off as a freak accident anyway – she hurried back through the wall and onto the street, scanning the road for the wayward soul.

Violent spirits weren’t a regular occurrence, but not everyone happily followed strangers to the afterlife.

The firefighter didn’t feel angry or violent. More restrained, as if he witnessed his actions from a distant place and couldn’t figure out how to stop.

Spotting him rounding a corner at the end of the block, Sayaka raced after him, tugging her mirror off her belt as she did. Intentional or not, violent spirits were dangerous, especially to humans who couldn’t see them to avoid their tempers.

If she let him wander, he could end up anywhere.

Wrapping her arm around his, she fisted a handful of his sleeve and flung her mirror at their feet.

A moment later, as the dizzy rush subsided, the floor rocked beneath her boots as they landed on Charon’s boat. Several passengers gasped as her mirror reformed, bouncing back to her hand. She caught it with practiced ease.

Hoping to avoid the inevitable, fury-induced, explosion, Sayaka pulled away from her charge. Her movement brought dazed eyes back into focus and the firefighter’s hand caught her in the chest, the Ki-fuelled strike shoving her into the gunwale.

The ship dipped; the angry waters of the Styx at odds to the forced calm in Naraka. Although she tried to catch her balance, her hands seeking purchase on the damp wood, Sayaka tumbled over the side.

Entities who did not need to breathe couldn’t drown. As the water closed over her head, the shadows of the creatures beneath the surface grabbed her ankles. Dragged deeper into the river, an absurd fear crossed Sayaka’s thoughts.

She'd never learned how to swim.

Chapter Three

Jaw locked, Sayaka tried to kick her way free. Her lungs burned from the liquid she'd swallowed, a sensation worsened by the sickening curl in her stomach from the unshakeable, human, fear of suffocation.

Drowning didn’t scare her. The thought of eternity trapped beneath the surface, unable to do anything but float in silence, did.

As spindly fingers tangled in her hair, she twisted and scratched at everything she could reach. The water made her movements sluggish and useless.

In all the times she stumbled across mentions of beings residing in the river, Sayaka never thought to ask what they were or even how to fend them off. She’d never been certain they existed, the wards calming the river of hatred kept them away from Naraka and Reapers never left the city..

The exile only made the creatures, and the river itself, angrier.

Her left hand, still clutching her mirror, connected with one of the creatures. It reeled back with an animalistic screech, the protest warbled by the water.

Sayaka clawed her way to the surface. The lights from Charon’s ship didn’t penetrate the darkness and, with the murky haze clouding her vision, she couldn’t tell up from down. Making her best guess, she hoped she hadn’t drifted far from the vessel.

An arm hooked around her throat, dragging her back down.

Time to come home, the creature whispered in her ear. Daddy’s missed you.

Her chest tightened, the burn nothing to do with the water she inhaled. Gritting her teeth, she flung out her mirror again.

Tell him I’m not interested! Her words were lost to the water.

Sayaka’s mirror pulsed in her hand, emitting a blinding white glow. The creature’s laugh morphed into a scream and the dark, humanoid, shapes darted away into the shadows, loitering at the edges of the light.

Above her, the water rippled. Claws sank into the collar of her coat and yanked.

Chapter Four

Stumbling onto the deck of Charon’s ship, Sayaka coughed up the water she’d swallowed. The captain caught her, his hands steady as he waited for her to regain her balance. Behind her, the phoenix who’d hauled her from the river landed on the gunwale. Shaking out its bright plumage, it stretched its wings and morphed into a tall, dark haired man.

He wore the typical dragonhide vest of the Spirit Guard, the daemon security team working in conjunction with the Reapers. As he pinched the bridge of his nose, Sayaka winced in sympathy. Shapeshifters weren’t a natural race of daemons and she doubted using his ability was pleasant.

The warning shouted by one of Charon’s men drew Sayaka’s attention to the firefighter hurrying toward them. Charon, without skipping a beat, slipped between the soul and Sayaka, one hand resting on the hilt of his cutlass. His crew closed ranks around them.

Sayaka didn’t blame him. Violent spirits didn’t calm down when they reached Akashi. They became angrier.

At odds with his previous aggression, the soul was an ordinary spirit. Confused, fearful and more than a little guilty.

I’m sorry! I didn’t- He glanced at Charon and swallowed before bowing several times in quick succession. I’m sorry!

Sayaka set a restraining hand on Charon’s arm. He didn’t question her direction and eased his stance. While he didn’t step back, he dipped his head, allowing her to take the lead.

Wary, Sayaka scanned the soul for any sign of anger. There was nothing, he was plain and ordinary. The Record informed her his lifetime leaned toward boring too. He wasn’t the type to get involved in anything untoward, let alone get angry about his death.

Are you okay? she asked.

I- The soul faltered. I don’t remember anything…

Sayaka’s brow furrowed. What about how you died?

I was working and the roof collapsed. He looked from the crew to the trees hanging low over the river, the spirit world’s pale purple skies peeking through the leaves. Where am I?

Akashi, the spirit realm. Sayaka fell into the familiar explanation with ease. I’m sorry for the abruptness of your arrival; I usually do the explanations in Corporalis but-

Corporalis? The firefighter squinted at her. I’m sorry?

It’s what Reapers call the living world, where you came from. Sayaka gestured to the ship and its captain. This is Charon; he’s taking you to Naraka so you can pass over.

And Naraka is… Heaven? The firefighter hesitated. Hell?

The City of the Dead.

I’ve never heard of it.

Most people haven’t. Sayaka hid her smile behind her hand. It’s a midway point. Souls have to be judged before they can pass over.

The soul paled. Am I going to Hell?

No.

How do you know?

I don’t, Sayaka admitted. But you’re not violent.

The ship jolted before he could respond. Darting to the gunwale, he leaned over the side with a groan. Sayaka winced in sympathy, even as she reached out to steady herself on something. She preferred the rocking of the ship to swimming with the creatures in the water any day, but she would never enjoy sailing.

Charon grinned and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, letting her lean into his side. You should join us more often, Lassie!

One crossing is enough to last a lifetime. Sayaka grimaced as the ship rocked again. I don’t understand how you manage it.

The captain winked at her, patting her hand. Good to see one of you Reapers though, thought for sure you’d abandoned me to the Guard.

She followed his nod to the daemon who pulled her from the river. Soaked through, despite his change in forms, he watched the firefighter with stoic perusal. He was still pale but he didn’t appear as disoriented as he had when he first transformed.

What does Naraka’s security want with you? Sayaka asked.

Isn’t me, Lassie, it’s the souls. Charon gestured to the firefighter’s soul. He isn’t the first to turn violent on arrival, isn’t the first to go passive again either. Enma didn’t listen when I said they’re not aggressive.

He’s good at that.

Charon snorted. To think, I kicked up a fuss when he told me to keep a Guard on my ship. I’m switching this one out though. He’s been peaky since we set off.

The Guard didn’t say anything, only walked away to stand at the ship’s bow.

Talkative that one,