The building they entered turned out to be the town hall as he suspected. Inside, the clerks in the lobby had already been advised to escort the Reaper wherever he wished to go, and a young man led them down a corridor toward a different section of the town hall.

  After they passed by a bored couple of guards playing cards, they emerged into a wing of the building that also served as the magistrate’s manor. This wing was much less busy but much more richly appointed compared to the plainly furnished town hall. And despite being vacant, the property was kept in pristine condition.

  Alex spied a maid dusting off the bookshelves inside an office space, and another polishing a broad darkwood table that dominated some kind of meeting room. Hunting tapestries lined the walls of the hallway they crossed, these ones much more elaborate than the ones he’d seen hanging from the windows in Riverbend. Holdenfor’s former magistrate clearly had an expensive taste and deep pockets, as all the fixtures he saw must have been imported given the intricacies of the craftsmanship.

  An old man met them at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the tower. He introduced himself as Pas, the caretaker of Holdenfor messenger hawk, and after a brief conversation with the Reaper, let them through with an enthusiastic smile.

  “That grumpy old beast will be happy to spread his wings a bit more,” Pas said.

  The climb up the tower wasn’t long, and though his legs had been complaining since he’d left Riverbend, he was curious to get a view of the land from an advantaged position.

  The room he stepped into was small but tidy, though the peaked wooden roof helped to make it feel less cramped. The pair of a desk and chair sat against a wall, while the other was dominated by floor to ceiling wooden shutters rattling whenever wind blew against them. An lantern sat unlit over the desk, and the only light illuminating the room came from whatever spilled through the gaps in the shutters.

  The Reaper didn’t seem bothered by the murky light as he quickly went about writing his letter with the paper and ink he found inside a drawer. After a moment, he folded up the paper, used a tiny cord to wrap a bow around it, then finally used the amber gem on his seal to apply some kind of magic onto the paper. The stone glowed softly the moment he pressed it onto the letter, and the emblem on the gem became embossed on the paper.

  “Alright, done.” Standing up, the Reaper crossed the room and paused in front of the shutter. “Have you ever seen one of the hawks?”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen a hawk before,” he drawled.

  The Reaper smiled. “Not you haven’t.” And through open the shutters.

  What awaited beyond was a stunning view of the Dunnser and the forest surrounding it, as well as the snow-capped mountain chain on the distant northern horizon. But Alex only focused on that for a heartbeat, because perched on a covered balcony right in front of him was a giant brown-feathered hawk staring at him with unnerving yellow eyes.

  “Holy shit!”

  The hawk gave out a loud call in response, and he fell back on his behind, spooked.

  “Ha, there it is,” the Reaper said, chuckling.

  From the ground, the hawk looked even more terrifying. It loomed over the balcony like what Alex imagined a flying dinosaur would look. In fact, calling it a hawk gave those animals from back home too much credit. This beast stood as tall as he was, using claws that could be mistaken for black daggers to sit perfectly still on the banister.

  “You were right,” he said, dusting himself off. “I have never seen… whatever this is.”

  The hawk cawed in a distinctively dissatisfied tone, shuffling away from them with its head held low.

  “Hey now, you upset him.” Reaching into his robes, the Reaper pulled out a large rat by the tail and showed it to the hawk. “Here, big boy. Old Pas slipped me one of these. Told me you’d like them.”

  The animal perked up, suddenly engaged again. His piercing eyes tracked the rat on the Reaper’s hands, but it stayed put on its perch.

  “The way they’ve been bred and trained means they can’t hunt for themselves,” the man said. When he approached the hawk with the rat held out in front of him, it simply opened its beak and waited for the dead animal to be put inside. Then it simply threw its head back and swallowed the rat whole. “This is just a snack for him. They need a special kind of ration only the League researchers back home can make. Pas told me they’re almost out of it, so it’s a good thing we’re sending him away.”

  “Right.”

  Rat eaten, the hawk simply watched them expectantly.

  “I have something else for you, boy.” This time, the Reaper showed him the letter. More specifically, he showed the embossed mark he’d place on the paper with his special ring.

  Shifting closer, the hawk brought its beak to the letter, sniffed, and let out a happy caw.

  “That’s right. Can I trust you to carry this for me?” the Reaper asked gently.

  As if in response, the hawk preened himself up and opened its giant wings. Just the movement blew a gust of wind into the balcony, the opened shutters clacking loudly against the brick exterior. On its chest, previously hidden by its folded winds, the hawk had a kind of leather pouch infused on its skin.

  Alex frowned at the sight. These weren’t just a special breed of hawks the people of this world had domesticated and trained. They had been made, somehow. Certainly experimented with. The leather pouch looked like an actual part of its body, but it was clearly artificial.

  The Reaper approached the animal and slipped the letter into the pouch without an issue. And that was all the hawk needed. It beat its enormous wings again, jumped up from the balcony’s banister, and quickly took off into the sky.

  Wind battered the balcony, and Alex shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “How do they know where to take them?”

  The Reaper shrugged, his curly hair fluttering all over the place. “Couldn’t tell you.”

  Alex followed the hawk’s path as it soared through the air. At times it would zip up or down through the sky, always speeding up when it changed directions. It seemed to know exactly where to go for the fastest air currents.

  They watched the hawk’s flight for just another minute, and not because they didn’t want to. It was simply too fast, and the hawk soon became a tiny dot in the sky.

  The Reaper pointed in its direction. “You see where the hawk is going?”

  “North?”

  “That’s where Sorun is.”

  Alex squinted into the distance, trying to spot anything that would indicate a city that should’ve been famous for its colors. Nothing. Just endless forest, rivers, and stormy mountains. “Don’t think so.”

  “Oh, it’s there,” The Reaper told him, his face gone dark. “You just gotta trek through this forest that we know are crawling with Kruwal, then go deeper into it where it’s quite possible the woods are filled with undiscovered and overflowing dungeons, only then cross the Rumble Mountains. Yes, it’s those ones in the distance. You know why they call them rumble mountains, don’t you? It rhymes with thunder and lightning. Oh, wait, that’s just the answer. A few more days walking past them and you’ll be right at the Sorun’s gates”

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  Alex paled as the man spoke. “Are you joking?”

  The Reaper only watched him, dull eyes staring at and through him as if he could see into his soul. He cracked a grin. “Or you can take the road west from Holdenfor and sail north up the river that runs to the west of the mountains. That works too.”

  Alex had to hold onto the balcony lest his trembling legs gave out. He glared at the Reaper. “You really are a prick, huh.”

  The man laughed. “Only when I’m in the mood kid, and let me tell you, I’m in a fucking mood.” His mood turned as he stared out into the forests beyond the walls of the town. “Whoever heard of Kruwal this far south? It’s madness. But at least it'll be mad enough to get the attention from the higher ups. And then as soon as this whole mess is sorted, I’ll be out of this hell.”

  “And you think that’ll be soon?”

  “Sure,” the Reaper said easily. “You saw that thing flying. We’ll get an answer back in a couple of days and they’ll send someone down. There, job done. Piece of piss.”

  Alex nodded, relieved. A few more days stuck in this place and he could be off to Sorun. What he’d do after that, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t linger in the same place with the same people any longer, even if he’d grown to like them. Maybe precisely because of that.

  What would they do when they found out he was the Second?

  xxx

  Two days after they sent the message with the hawk, Diana woke up from her mini coma. Daven dragged him and Valerian to visit her. He had wanted Cedric to come, but the crew leader was out cold in his room from the night before’s drinking. Holdenfor’s healer, a cranky old woman whose face was more wrinkly than a finger left for too long in cold water, had her stay for another night, but promised to release her the next day.

  The third day came and went and there were no answers. Diana came to stay in the tavern they were staying in, Alex tried a delicious and expensive nutmeg bun from the baker’s shop, and Cedric finished a whole bottle of rum by himself. The town was peaceful and Alex thought the Riverbenders seemed to adjust well to their new lives.

  He went looking for the Reaper on the fourth day and found him in Holdenfor's best inn. When asked, the Reaper said it was strange but there was nothing much they could do. Easy for him to say when he didn’t have to pay for food and board.

  Bryon the blacksmith was staying in the same lodging in exchange for fixing up every metal bit they could find in the inn, as well as making horseshoes for the inn’s stablehands. Alex asked after Lanna, and the blacksmith grew solemn. Her father’s death had left her shaken, and she had not left her room since they arrived.

  That night he dreamt of bodies floating on a golden lake, their dead eyes staring accusingly at him from the water.

  xxx

  It was on the fifth day that things went to shit.

  Alex woke up that morning to the sound of bells tolling. His mind went straight to the worst possibility of the Kruwal having snuck into town in the middle of the night. Dressing up quickly, still in his earth clothes and long coat, he raced down to the common room where he found the rest of the crew in a similar state of confusion as him.

  He looked around. At least the town wasn't burning.

  “Cedric?”

  Daven shook his head like a sad puppy. That was code for ‘passed out drunk again’. Alex shrugged. Not his problem.

  “What’s going on?” Diana asked the tavern owner called Myer.

  The heavyset man sighed. “Three chimes. It’s Bernier with one of his meetings again. One person per family gots’ to go. Turns into a shouting match sometimes, but ma’ missus loves it so she’ll go for us. I done told her that place is cursed, but she’s not from ‘round here and don’t care a whit. You lot better go, too. He’ll want the chasers there.”

  Alex didn’t bother trying to decipher what he meant, but the man was right. When they got to the large meeting chamber inside the town hall, the gathering had already turned into shouting, finger pointing, and quiet sobbing in a few corners. Alex saw a few familiar faces among the large crowd. Helga and a few others from Riverbend. The Reaper yawning in the back. Diana’s nearly decrepit healer in the front row. And on the podium at the front of the room, the deputy councillor sat behind a long table along with a bald-headed, hard-faced older man dressed as a town guard.

  As they slowly walked amidst the chorus of shouts, one of the townspeople stood up and pointed at them. “Hey! You all be the chasers, right?” A hush fell over the crowd at the word chaser. “What do you plan to do about this?”

  Diana spoke what they were all thinking. “Do what about what?”

  “Our grain,” Bernier interjected from the dais, fists balled up on the table. “Two thirds of our food stores have gone to rot.”

  The announcement seemed to take the air out of the room, even to those who already heard it. Alex didn’t remember ever giving any thought to food stores going out. After all, if the pantry is dry, you just simply go to the supermarket. He bit at his lip. Things aren’t quite so simple now.

  “What do you mean they’ve gone to rot?” Diana frowned. “You didn’t think to regularly check on them?”

  “Of course we do. I’ve had my people checking them twice daily since this whole bloody thing started. Last night they were perfectly fine, but when we checked this morning…” he banged his fist down like a gavel. The expression of outwards anger seemed foreign to the man. “All gone overnight. Rotten with rats and worse all over it.”

  “I stood the night shift at the eastern granary myself yesterday.” The other man at the dais rose. “Nothing. No noises, no movement. Not even the smell until we opened it up today and it was suddenly there, foul and putrid.”

  Heads shook. Eyes downcast, worried. A woman who’d been crying stood and scurried out of the room in tears.

  Daven raised a hand. “Uh, not to point fingers or anything, but you’re saying you were alone at the granary when the food went bad, right? How do we know you didn’t do it yourself?”

  The yelling started up again, only not at the hard-faced guard. Turned out the guard, who one of the townspeople called Captain Lian, was universally well liked and respected in Holdenfor. If they hadn’t known we were chasers, Daven would be getting thrown out through the window, Alex thought.

  The guard captain watched it all with a scowl. “Enough!” he shouted at the people, and they listened. He turned to Daven. “I was a guard in this town when you were still suckling on your mother’s teats, boy. I don’t care if you’re a chaser or the First himself.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Bernier cut in before tempers got out of hand. “We have had night patrols around town since the attacks began. They pass by the granary every night at least twice. Four different men, and none saw a thing either.”

  Alex wanted to point out that if the man was the captain of the town guard, then he was the one picking the men for the night patrols. He chose to remain silent instead. They were outsiders here. With the crowd on his side, nothing they said would matter.

  And the captain might be innocent for all he knew. Why would a man working his whole life for the protection of a town suddenly turn on it instead? There were just too many unknowns to be certain of anything.

  “How long can the remaining food last?” Valerian asked before the bickering could continue.

  The councillor looked down through his spectacles at a ledger before him. “Two weeks,” he told them. “More if we ration. Less now we have let in hundreds more mouths to feed.”

  Alex noticed a few glares thrown toward Helga and the Riverbend contingent, but no one had the courage to say anything out loud.

  Bernier continued, “We will intensify the fishing and foraging we have been doing, and the town will commandeer every private garden to grow quick crops only. Radishes and turnips and the like.” There were murmurs of agreement at that.

  Helga stepped up. “We have experienced hunters among us who can join your foraging parties.”

  Bernier gave her a reluctant nod, and the meeting continued with more details on food and security being hammered out. But the mood in the room was bleak. People held their heads in their hands, desperate. Their town was surrounded and soon to be starving. Alex didn’t know what to think himself, only that they couldn’t just sit still while the Kruwal starved them out. But what could they really do?

  Near the front row, a middle-aged man dressed in a sparkling yellow vest stood up. “What news from the outside, Bernier? I’ve waited long enough, I should think. You told me the messenger hawk had been sent days back. What came of it?”

  The councillor turned to the Reaper leaning against the wall. He only shook his head.

  Bernier sighed. “Unfortunately, we have had no answer. Not from the hawk, the couriers, or any of your fellows who decided to leave.”

  Something twisted around Alex’s stomach and a nauseous feeling washed over him. No help coming. No food. It had been easy to dismiss his fears when he was riding the high of leveling up back in Riverbend. Or when he thought the League’s rescuers were just around the corner. Nowhere to run now.

  “Then my decision is simple,” the man said. “I have debts to pay at home and a large family to feed.” He turned to a woman a few rows back. She was of age with him, and was similarly well-dressed in a rich blue vest. “You should come with me, Celia. We’ll have a better chance with your guards and mine.”

  “When the seas get rough one must ride with the wind, not against it.” The woman gave him a tiny smile. “I'd rather keep myself and my wares behind these walls for now, thank you.”

  “Suit yourself.” Smoothing out his clothes, the man started to walk out. “My men and I leave at noon if you change your mind.”

  Bernier ended the meeting on that note. The man had been a merchant stuck in Holdenfor since the first Kruwal attacks on the farms around the town. That afternoon, one of his guards returned on a panting horse. Alex had been near the western gate when it happened. Pale and hysterical, the guard’s arm had been cut off at the elbow. Their party had been ambushed only a few hours into their trip.

  That same day, Alex signed the contract with Bernier. If he had no choice but to fight, he might as well get paid for it.

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