Gina Grant - Scythe Does Matter

Suddenly I got it and for the first time all semester, I kind of admired her. She had allowed herself to fail so Crystal didn’t have to go through the classroom work again by herself. Amber was with people and beings she already knew but Crystal would be with total strangers . . . some probably stranger than others. Tiffany had made this huge sacrifice for her friend and at the same time given me more time to think. She could have said nothing and then I’d have to repeat the semester, too.

Now I just needed to focus enough to make use of the time she’d given me. I know I’d heard this before, but what was it?

Professor Schotz tapped Tiffany with the hammer—a lot lighter than he had Crystal—and the whirlwind started up again. Within seconds, Tiffany was whisked through the wall to join her friend.

I had to admit I felt a little envious. I’d certainly never made any friends in life who loved me enough to stay with me through death and higher education.

Nor had I been that kind of friend. On the day I’d been attacked by my stapler gone wild, Shannon had invited me to go back to school with her. I’d pretty much laughed in her face. Nice, I chastised myself. No wonder the people I worked with at Iver PR—the people I’d thought of as my friends—hadn’t felt warm and fuzzy toward me.

Well, that would change. When I got my life back, I’d be willing to die for Shannon.

Now the professor turned his attention to me, the last soul standing.

“All right, Kirsty. It’s all yours now. I hope you get it right, because I believe you will make an excellent Reaper.” He looked at me sternly but a twinkle in his eye belied his serious demeanor. “It’s the same question. Just pay attention.”

Which was the worst thing he could say, because now my attention was all about paying attention to the fact that he was speaking and not actually on what he was—

“What is the one thing you should not do with your scythe?”

I glanced over at Dante, who seemed focused on the hourglass. The flow of sand had reversed again and now there were only a few grains remaining in the upper bulb. It was now or never. Well, now or next semester.

What did I have to lose? I grasped at some hazy memory as it floated by my mind’s eye. “You should never let anyone else touch your scythe.”

“That is correct!” Professor Schotz seemed really pleased I’d gotten it right. He rang the bell for at least five clangs, grinning the whole time. “Now, class.” He turned to address the room at large. I figured this was my signal to return to my seat so I scooted back to my chair, creating a tiny tornado of my own in my rush through the dusty classroom.

“I have one more question for you—all of you.” The professor addressed the class. “What would happen if you used another Reaper’s scythe?”

He peered at us, waiting. I noticed Dante didn’t flip the hourglass this time. Even he looked puzzled, eyebrows rising until they were lost under his artfully tousled—or perhaps just messy—bangs. I glanced at my classmates only to find they were all looking at each other. Eventually everybody’s attention settled on Amber.

“Tell us, Miss Perfect Memory. What’ll happen if we swap sticks?” Rod had such a wonderful way with people. Amber had just been separated from her BFFs. Couldn’t he be a tad more sensitive?

But Amber seemed fine on her own. She sat up a little straighter, her cowboy accessories shoved onto the chair next to her that had been Tiffany’s. She’d even yanked her fluffy blond tresses back into a ponytail and— gasp! —her lipstick hadn’t been reapplied in minutes. The pale peach was notable by its absence. It was a good thing her lips weren’t covered in their usual layers of goo because she was rubbing her mouth absently, obviously deep in thought.

Rod started in on her again. “Looks like Little Miss—”

“Shut up, Rod,” Ira said through clenched teeth. “Give the lady a chance or so help me, I’ll use my contacts and you’ll never pass through the skeggin’ pearly gates.”

Whoa! Go, Ira!

Rod shut right up, his face turning an alarming shade of violet.

Kali turned around and whispered to Ira, softly so only I could hear. “I thought nobody was supposed to know about you.”

Ira grinned and whispered back, “Yeah, but obviously you all suspect. And I may have let it slip out that I’m an undercover angel. I just didn’t say undercover doing what.” He waggled his eyebrows, managing to look a little less angelic for once.

He opened his too-pretty mouth to say something else but at that moment Amber raised her head.

“There’s nothing.” She laid her hands palms down on the desk. “I read all the handouts, all the original texts and scrolls they came from and the optional reference materials as well.” She blushed and had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. You can’t pull that ditzy-blonde routine for the whole semester and then turn around and be the hardest-working—and possibly the smartest—person in the room without some fallout.

Now I understood why Professor Schotz thought it wise to separate the Death Valley girls, although it had seemed cruel at the time—which was, assuming time was progressing at a reasonable rate today, about twenty minutes ago.

“That’s right, Amber. Very good.” The professor grasped his lapels and rocked back on his heels. “We have no idea what would happen, only that it would be disastrous. Catastrophic. Perhaps apocalyptic. Unfortunately, the answer is lost in the mists of time.” He made a fluttering gesture with one hand. “And speaking of time, I have one final, final question for the group. Last one. I promise.”

We all fidgeted in our seats. Surely we hadn’t come this far just to fail. I held my unnecessary breath.

“And the question is . . .” Professor Schotz grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Where are you going to go to celebrate,” he glanced at his wrist, “in about five minutes, Hell time?”

I thrust my hand in the air, yelling, “I know this one. I know this one!”

Laughing, the professor said, “I see a hand at the back. Yes, Kirsty?”

I rose and looked him right in the eye. “We—” I stopped. Originally the plan was to be just my fun clique: Kali, M’Kimbi, Ira and me. Now I let my gaze rest on each person in the room, including Amber and Rod. When I looked at Kali, she nodded. I made a sweeping and inclusive gesture. “We’re all going to that new Mexican place, Taco Hell, at the corner of Shallow and Vain. Care to join us?”

“Join you? I’m buying!”

THE COURSE CURRICULUMhadn’t mentioned the weeklong break between semesters. While everyone else relaxed and caught up on errands, visits and sleep, I went crazy. I wouldn’t graduate until the week of my twenty-sixth birthday. That left me just a few days to obtain my scythe and go AWOL to the Coil. And that was if time was on my side, which it usually wasn’t.

I waylaid Professor Schotz in the hall and begged him to cancel our hiatus.

He laughed, telling me I was the first student ever to do that. And sorry, no. The only thing Professor Schotz and Sergeant Schotz agreed on was fly-fishing so they’d be gone the entire week.

I remembered the things I’d seen swimming in the Styx on my first crossing and wished him luck. I hoped they had a catch-and-release law down here; eating too many fish Styx couldn’t be good for you.

I spent some time pacing and fretting. When that didn’t seem to accomplish much, I tried researching why you should never use someone else’s scythe. Picture me spending my free time in Hell’s reference library. No, seriously.