Page 138 of Shades of Silver City

Once more, I exhale audibly. Then I draw in another deep breath and do it again and again.

After a few minutes, when nothing changes, I release a frustrated grunt and run a hand through my hair. I growl and start to pace.

What am I doing wrong?

According to my understanding, nature has a process of recycling souls… My intuition led me here.

“Ah, nature in its purest form is breathtaking, is it not?”

I whip around, catching sight of Arlo Osiander. He’s quite out of place here in the wilderness, in his shiny loafers and fitted, luxury suit.

“Much better than that horrible concrete prison you prefer to reside in,” he says.

Gritting my teeth, I think of what I could possibly say to him. But his presence is the least of my concerns right now. When the silence between us stretches on, he sighs as though he’s annoyed. His features begin to change, shifting into something beyond human.

Something sinister.

His mouth widens into a gaping hole. His black irises bleed into the whites of his eyes.

Staring at me is the face of the Reaper.

My spine tightens, and I stand up taller, watching him with rapt attention.

The revelation should bring me a sense of vindication at the very least, but nothing trumps the concern I have about consuming a soul.

“You,” I mutter. A plethora of thoughts spin through my mind like a hurricane. But right now, the most important thing is figuring out how to release the soul. “Help me.” I’m ashamed to have to ask, but not too obstinate that I don’t. “How do I get it out of me?”

Arlo’s face shifts again, bones cracking as his previous features return. There’s something familiar about him. Something I can’t quite place.

“I’ll tell you,” he says, “for a price.”

“Name the cost. I can afford it.” It’s honest, not arrogant. Whatever it is, I can pay it.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “The price is not your human silvers. It’s a bargain.”

Through gritted teeth, I repeat what I said earlier. “Name the cost.”

I don’t know what will happen if I don’t release Reed’s soul. Will it become a part of me? Will it feed the monster inside of me until I’m the one stuffed away—at its ravenous mercy? I’m not willing to take that chance. Keeping it inside of me isn’t right.

“I’ll show you how to be a proper reaper, but in return, you hear me out and cause me no harm.”

“Hear you out?”

“It’s a very fair price, is it not?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. He wants me to listen to him? Surely I can do that without issue. As for causing harm, I try to avoid doing that in general, so it’s not a big ask. “Fair enough.”

He puts out his hand, and I eye it warily before shaking. A buzz courses through my palm and up my arm, and although I have no formal experience with bargains, I inherently know that magic has sealed the deal.

“You need to become one with nature,” Arlo says, stepping closer to me. Stray brambles scratch at his pressed pants, but he seems to pay them no mind. “Find a quiet place that calls to you, and focus your mind.”

I wait for him to go on, but he gestures toward the forest behind me, as if urging me to heed his advice. Obliging, I turn to face the woods and wait for a call. A tug. Something.

Nothing comes.

I choose an ash tree nearby, stepping up to it and placing my hands on the rough bark.

“Close your eyes,” Arlo says. “Focus.”

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