Page 7 of Destined to the Reaper

The Weaver got up and went to retrieve a medium-sized copper box and handed it to me. It contained a grainy substance that resembled salt, but I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t. Green strands in it, akin to tiny seeds, indicated the grains had been mixed with some kind of herbs I had never seen before.

For the next fifteen minutes, she painstakingly explained the process as well as the incantations I had to speak to summon the Reaper. Although she didn’t say as much, based on the amount of ‘not salt’ contained in the box, I suspected I would have to perform the ritual more than once. No one gave away excess amounts of reagents for free.

To my shock, after she had me draw the circle with a quill on a piece of parchment, both the reference one she first gave me and the practice one I had drawn disintegrated and vanished.

“What the…?”

“This is the type of magic very few will ever learn or ever should,” the Weaver said, a hint of a threat in her voice. “This knowledge is now seared into your mind. See that you never share it with anyone.”

I didn’t need her to add the ‘or else’ part of her statement.

“I won’t,” I replied in a subdued tone.

She gave me a stiff nod before relaxing her stance. “As I stated, Cornelius cannot know what is happening. Therefore, once you have drawn the circle and spoken the incantation, you must observe it for a response. If the edges glow orange or red, you must pause the summon.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely baffled.

“If Cornelius is awake, focused on Pharos, or wanting to use his powers, he will feel his absence if he’s been summoned away. Should that happen, it will completely end all your chances of freeing him,” she explained.

“I see. But how do I pause it? I’ve never done such a thing before.”

“Speak this word of power, and then wait for the color to change back to a light blue. But be aware that the wait could be minutes or hours. There is also the slight possibility that he will not respond to your summon. This is not like invoking a demonwith the intent of enslaving him. It is an invitation that can be declined or that he can walk away from whenever he sees fit.”

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath. It never once entered my mind that he might not answer the call. “But how does the circle know when the time is appropriate for him to answer?”

“The circle doesn’t. The Reaper does.”

“So he’s the one changing the color?” I asked with sudden understanding.

She nodded. “It is his way of telling you to wait. Red means a long wait whereas orange indicates a shorter one.”

A wave of relief flooded through me. It would still suck to be stuck to potentially be staring at a summoning circle for hours while waiting for him to finally show up, but at least I would know he intended to do so.

“But wait, what if he doesn’t want to come at all?” I asked.

She smiled, the glimmer of approval in her golden eyes doing strange things to me. “Then the blue glow will fade like a switch getting turned off.”

I raised an eyebrow to have her refer to the recent technology called electricity that had been spreading alongside all the steam operated machinery. She didn’t have any of those modern tools and gadgets. For some reason, I had not expected her to know much about any of it. But then, I doubted anything in this world and beyond was actually a secret for her.

“Remember that you must convincehimto trustyou. You must be undaunted and steadfast in your determination. Pharos will put much on the line if he agrees to collaborate with you. Do not fail. There will be no second chances.”

“I won’t,” I said, excitement bubbling within me.

The oddest expression fleeted over her timeless features. To my surprise, she didn’t speak another word but simply turned her back on me. The stool she was sitting on silently glided backin front of the spinning wheel, and she began spinning more thread.

My confusion as to what to do next was quickly settled by the door opening behind me. Realizing I’d been properly dismissed, I rose to my feet and quietly walked out of her house. As the door closed behind me, I saw my chair sliding back to its original position by the entrance.

With the sun beginning to lower on the horizon, I raced back to the comfortable little house I had rented by the Fey Woods. As I had hoped, that intentional choice paid off. There was a reason the owner promoted it as the perfect getaway location for arcane practitioners. I knew exactly which fairy ring to use for the summoning. I secured my horse in the small stables. Despite my burning urge to head out right away, I forced myself to bide my time, have a light dinner, and even take a quick bath.

Cornelius was a night owl. He wouldn’t be in bed for a while still. I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention by setting up the circle too early and then just sitting around waiting for the Reaper to answer my call. By the time the clock struck ten, I was on the verge of climbing the walls. Giving in to impatience, I began the short journey into the neighboring forest and down to the fairy ring located a stone’s throw away from a small river.

Pausing to set up wards around a wide radius of my chosen location helped burn through some time, although nowhere near enough. It was barely a few minutes past eleven when I finished drawing the circle—whose design had truly been permanently seared into my mind.

A thrill coursed through me as I began to recite the incantation. The foreign words rolled off my tongue with an ease that genuinely took me aback. Granted, I was no novice when it came to the dark arts. But this ritual was in a language I had never heard before. I didn’t doubt the Weaver played a part in this. I had not felt her casting any spells on me. And yet, she hadsomehow imprinted that design in my mind and those words on my tongue.

I squashed the sense of unease attempting to rear its head with questions as to what else she might have secretly done to me that might prove less favorable and focused on the task at hand.

As soon as I pronounced the last word, a whooshing sound resonated at my feet, akin to the sound made when throwing a match in front of an open gas burner. The dull gray color of the ‘not salt’ grains I had spread around to draw the circle began to glow as if lit from within. A wave of power radiated from it, like a wild animal ready to leap out.

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