Kim Harrison - Something Deadly This Way Comes

I didn’t understand why Ron was staring at me so hatefully, standing before his sword as if it was a snake. If he didn’t reclaim it, his amulet wouldn’t work at full strength.

“He takes it, and his memory of what Paul did this night is gone,” the seraph said, crouching down to be at my level. It was an odd position for an angel, and my breath caught at his nearness.

Slowly I stood up, my eyebrows rising in understanding. “And if he leaves it there, he won’t have the strength to stop us,” I said, and the angel beamed, holding out a hand as it knelt before me.

I looked at it, feeling my face going cold. The seraph was asking for my amulet. “One last thing,” it said, and I clutched at the stone.

“You want my amulet,” I whispered, and Ron snorted, clearly not upset that I was going to lose everything as well.

“Yes.” The seraph gracefully rose to a stand as well, still holding a hand out.

“But I proved fate can be changed, that a dying soul can be rekindled,” I said, looking over the cooling desert as if my past deeds would be out there somewhere to find and collect, like pretty rocks. “All of us together, light and dark. We saved Tammy’s soul and her life. I know I said I’d give it up when I found my body, but I saw what happened to those who are given guardian angels but aren’t able to rekindle their souls on their own, and that is awful.”

“Agreed,” the seraph said. “The songs of the guardian angels did much to sway heaven.”

“But to kill a person outright to save his or her soul,” I lamented. “That is awful, too.”

“Agreed,” the seraph said again, a touch of impatience in its tone, a hand still outstretched. “Your amulet, please. It is confusing here. I want to leave.”

“Give it to the angel, Madison, or it will take it,” Ron said smugly, and my reach to pull it over my head almost stopped. I wanted to cry as I felt the amulet leave me, felt the bond between us stretch and hold. “Paul and I,” I said as the seraph cupped its hands around it, hiding it from me. “We changed things. I can understand why I need to forget, but don’t make him forget.”

A glow leaked from between the seraph’s fingers, pure and divine. The angel opened its hand, and my white-hot stone slowly cooled, shifting through the spectrum until it was again black. “We have no intention of making him forget,” the seraph said, extending my amulet back to me.

I stared at it, unbelieving. They are giving it back?

“It took several hundred years of searching the time lines to find someone able to manipulate time and have the fate , to make the choice he has made,” the seraph said. “Here. Take your amulet. I want to leave.”

I stared at my amulet, dangling from the seraph’s fingers. They’re giving it back?

Slowly I reached out, fingers closing on air an instant before I touched it. “B-but,” I stammered as I looked at it still in the seraph’s possession. “I found my body. Claimed it.”

The seraph lowered its arm as Ron began to pace, his sword between us. “Do you want to be the dark timekeeper?” the seraph asked.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, looking at my amulet. “But I want to be alive, too!”

The seraph shrugged. “So you changed your mind,” it said, smiling. “We knew you would. It was fated such. Take your amulet. It has been adjusted.”

Not breathing, I reached out, hesitating.

“Take it!” the seraph thundered, and I jumped, grabbing it.

“There once was a girl named Madison,” sang a familiar voice, and my eyes shot to the seraph’s shoulder. It was Grace, and I could see her. I mean, really see her! She was beautiful, glowing with spiderwebs and dew. I couldn’t seem to breathe, and she laughed, almost falling off the seraph’s shoulder.

“Check out the time line,” she suggested, and I closed my eyes, gasping. It was so clear, so precise, and tears pricked at my eyes. I could see everything intertwined, one thing affecting the other, until it was singing a glorious, resonant hum of existence. My dad was worried about me. Shoe was thinking of me, curious after having talked to Tammy. Josh was at home, sending me a worried text message. Wendy wasn’t thinking about me at all—and that was okay. She was living her life . . . joyfully.

“I’m the dark timekeeper,” I whispered, and my eyes flew open to see Grace beaming.

“You always have been,” the seraph said, kneeling as if trying to get closer to my happiness. “But now you have the chance to be a person, too, to live as those you’re trying to save. Even a superhero needs a place to be normal,” it finished with a wry smile.

I sat on the tile and blinked. Far above us, the clouds thickened. It was raining, but the drops were evaporating before reaching the ground. I had my amulet. I had my body. They were going to let me do things my way. “Then you agree?” I said, needing to hear it. “No more scythings?”

Again the seraph laughed, an echo of thunder above following it. “The scythings will continue,” it said, and Ron, standing before his sword with his hands fisted, grunted.

“But you agreed . . .” I started, not caring I was arguing with one of God’s angels.

The seraph shifted, standing up to tower over me. “Your plans are sound. But, Madison, the reapers are a different drawer of spoons.”

My shoulders slumped as Ron harrumphed. “Not so easy, Madison,” he taunted, almost reaching for his sword, but not yet ready to consign his memory of Paul’s intent to the crapper.

“Reapers serve their timekeepers out of respect,” the seraph said, frowning at Ron’s glee. “It is their . . . choice to change or not. The guardian angels are behind this shift as one, but the reapers?”

Depressed, I slumped on Ron’s patio, hating his smile at me. “Then I’ve gained nothing,” I whispered.

The seraph’s touch was almost not there, it was so soft as it tilted my chin up to look me in the eye. Grace was behind it, smiling, and my head hurt at their combined beauty. “You’ve gained everything. You will work with reapers as they come to you seeking answers. And they will come seeking answers. Word of what has happened is echoing between heaven and earth. That you and Paul have worked together has reapers questioning. Both the light and dark. Light and dark, they will come to you, and light and dark, you will send them out together as one to save or damn souls. That’s why we sent Demus to you. He has doubt. Your questions will be his answers.”

My eyebrows rose. They had sent Demus to me because he might listen? “Then the cullings will stop?” I whispered.

But the seraph was shaking its head, smiling benevolently. “I told you, light and dark, you will pair them up, and light and dark, you will send them out. Together the reapers will try to change fate, but if it is determined that the soul will remain steadfast to ruin despite their efforts, a dark reaper will cull their soul, and a light reaper will weep.”

“I don’t understand,” I stammered.

“The cullings will continue,” the seraph insisted. “But it will be the light reaper who deems the soul lost, not the dark.”

My mouth made an O of understanding. The light, who once assigned the guardian angels, would be less likely to write a soul off. A person would have to truly be beyond hope for that to happen. It was enough. This, I decided, I could do.

Seeing my resolve reflected in my eyes, the seraph nodded and drew back. “If a change can be made, then fate will intervene and a life will be lived. I hope this happens. It’s up to you.” The seraph smiled, and I almost burst with happiness. “And your reapers. There is no more using the ancient law, though. It worked this time, but you are not to risk yourself in such a way again. Understand?”