Naomi Grim (The Silver Scythe Chronicles) Part 1 (6 page)

Doyle continued, "In your backpack, you will
keep a knapsack. Once the massacre occurs, that knapsack is where
you will put the lifestones. Guard this bag with your
life."

I stole a look at Dunningham. He stared
intently at something. I followed his gaze. He looked at something
over Keira's head—or at Keira.

I cleared my throat. "I think if someone is
planning something like this, they'd keep it a secret. They're not
exactly going to share that info with some random kids who just
showed up."

Dunningham's gaze shifted to me. I shuddered.
He seemed creepier than he'd ever been. "My dear, you are a Grim.
You have ways about you that humans don't. You know how to lurk in
the shadows. Use your training. Surely you know that any adept Grim
can outsmart a human."

"Yes, sir," I muttered, but I wasn't sure.
There had been several times when I was positive a Fated had seen
me before time.

Dunningham continued. "You will still have your
Grimbilities while you are there, however you must not use them in
the presence of a human, for obvious reasons."

Grimbilities were granted to us on our
thirteenth birthdays. This gave us the ability to become invisible,
walk through objects, and to transport ourselves from place to
place.

Doyle stood and began to pace. "We will spend
much time talking about the ways of teenage humans. You need to be
aware of their practices and lingo so you fit in, but at the same
time, you must uphold the Grim Covenant. This assignment will not
be an excuse for you to break the law. The first and most important
thing we need to discuss is intercourse."

I sank in my seat. That was the last thing I
wanted to discuss in the company of two grown men and my
brothers.

"Keira Grim, what does Grim law say about
intercourse?" Doyle asked.

"Intercourse is to only take place once a Grim
is married and the male has had his Confirmation ceremony," Keira
answered, correct as always.

"Right, and how do teenagers where you are
going feel about this, Master Dorian?"

Dorian shifted, looking more uncomfortable than
I felt. "Opinion varies, but they are a lot more lax than we
are."

"They screw like bunnies," Bram
added. Dunningham shot him a look, and he immediately looked
down.
Think before you speak, Bram.
"It's not as big a deal to them as it is to
us."

Intercourse was a massive deal to us. Partaking
in it before marriage or outside of marriage would hinder our
life-collecting abilities—at least that's what we had always been
taught. Regardless, it was punishable by death.

Doyle ran his fingers through his dark hair.
"Young Grims, you must guard yourselves. There is to be no kissing,
hand holding, or affectionate touching of any kind. If we find you
are doing this, you will be pulled off the assignment immediately
and punished accordingly. Is that understood?"

"Yes," we all muttered. This was not a problem
for me. I had no desire for physical contact with anyone, much less
a strange human.

After that, we talked about what kids were
watching on TV. This topic seemed irrelevant since there was no
television in Nowhere. I’d watched some from time to time when I
was following a Fated. Some of it fascinated me a little, and there
were some shows I didn't understand.

By the end of the day, we had covered
intercourse, television, and music. We'd looked at pictures of
several popular artists from different genres and listened to their
current hits. Several times I wished I would go deaf
temporarily.

The next day, Doyle came over bright and early
without Mr. Dunningham. We had six days until we went on
assignment.

We spent the day discussing celebrities. Who
was in and why. Some of them were famous for being in movies,
playing sports, or just for being born. I found myself completely
disinterested, and the day crept along slowly.

Once Mr. Doyle left, Dorian shot from his seat
on the sofa. "Thank goodness. I have to get to my lab before I
officially turn stupid." He ran upstairs to his "lab", which
consisted of the microscope and liquid-filled test tubes that sat
on his desk. I wasn't sure what Dorian did there, but in my eyes he
spent a lot of time pretending to be a scientist.

Keira sighed. "Okay, is anybody else getting
less excited about this as the days go by? I mean, the money is
great, but I don't think I can pretend to be one of them. And
making friends with them . . ."

"I'm looking forward to it," Bram answered. "I
think it will be quite interesting to see how I would fit in if I
were a human."

* * *

The following day, we discussed the high school
infrastructure, which sounded like the game of politics my father
and the men of Farrington played with Dunningham. I found that
comparison to be quite sad.

Doyle projected a screen on the empty wall of
our living room. "At the top, you have the popular students. These
students are often popular because of their good looks, the way
they dress, and their big personalities. It's not very likely the
kids planning a school massacre will be among this group, so you
shouldn’t waste your time becoming one of them."

"I don’t think I'll be able to help it. Those
kids are going to adore me. I know it." Bram was a lot more
disruptive now that Dunningham wasn't present. He was popular in
Nowhere though, so he just might be popular where we were
going.

Doyle ignored him. "Next you have the regular
kids. You may want to get to know some of these kids. Then there's
the bottom rung. The nerds, outcasts, losers, whatever the kids
call them. These are the kids you want to fall in with and really
get to know."

Bram pointed at the rest of us. "You guys are
going to fit right in with them."

Doyle spoke some more about queen bees, jocks,
cheerleaders, student council presidents, and hierarchy. My eyes
began to glaze over. I had been exposed to this world quite a bit,
but I never knew things could be so complicated. I was on
information overload. The lesson that day was cut short because
there was a gathering in front of the Mill at two in the
afternoon.

We did what was expected of us at
gatherings—donned our cloaks and took our scythes. My brothers and
I stood next to our father as the Grims gathered in their assigned
section in front of the Mill— Litropolis, then Farrington, and then
the Upper Estates.

The sound of a horn blasted through the air.
Silence fell as Dunningham made his way to the podium that stood on
the platform. I couldn't see him from where I stood, but there were
plenty of monitors planted around that I could watch
from.

Dunningham leaned over into the microphone.
"Dear Grims, I'm sure you know by now that Foragers infiltrated our
colony the other day. They have been captured. Now we will brand
them and put them to work."

The Watchers led a line of twelve men, tethered
together, onto the platform. The men were barefoot and wearing
nothing aside from a black loincloth. They were directed to turn
their backs to the crowd and kneel. I hated this part, and memories
of my own branding made me feel woozy. On my thirteenth birthday,
like every other Grim, I'd been branded with a very elaborate G on
my right shoulder. It was a blinding pain. I'd never felt anything
like it, nor did I want to again.

The crowd cheered, my brothers and father
included, as the Watchers removed hot pokers from a small fire pit
on the platform. The poker was pressed into the first man’s skin.
His body shook as he fell onto the platform, and I had to look at
the ground. One by one, the other eleven men were branded with an X
on their right shoulders. I was thankful the cheers from the crowd
drowned out their cries. I kept my eyes focused on the ground and
away from the monitors. I couldn't bear to watch their
pain.

The X would seal their fate. Foragers didn't
have many years left, and that particular group would spend the
remainder of their years as slaves, working in the Mill under
watchful eyes, shoveling and transporting the very lifestones they
had come to steal. I was sure the men would have probably welcomed
an execution instead.

Once all twelve men were branded, the cheering
escalated.

"This is what happens when they mess with the
Grim!" Dunningham shouted. The Grims roared in agreement. The men
were led off the platform and Dunningham dismissed us.

I didn't like everything about being a Grim,
but those gatherings—I hated them.

Four days left. Mother was still on assignment.
I needed her to come back before we left. I needed her to tell me I
would do a fine job and I wouldn't let my family down. I wished
there was a way we could communicate while she was out, but that
was impossible. When we were on assignment, we had to be focused on
the task at hand.

That morning at the breakfast table, I read
over my notes as I waited for Doyle to come over and give that
day's lesson. My bagel tasted extra dry. Even the strawberry cream
cheese couldn't save it.

Bram entered the kitchen and headed for the
coffee pot. "You still sad about them?"

I ignored him. I didn’t know what I was sad
about.

"They're just Foragers, Nay. They keep money
from our pockets and food from our mouths. If we don’t take care of
them, our colony won't function. Is that what you want?"

I threw my bagel down on the plate. "There are
other ways, Bram. Technically, they're Grims too, and there are
plenty of lifestones to go around. Unequal distribution is the
problem. The Grims of the Upper Estates have more than
necessary."

Bram walked toward me with his coffee cup.
"Yeah, so we should just share like one big, happy family. That's
the best part about the Upper Estates—they live forever. Of course,
you can't see that. You'd rather sit around and feel sorry for our
enemies. You’ve never had the heart of a Grim." I'd lost track of
how many times he'd said that to me.

Keira and Josh arrived, followed closely by
Doyle and, unfortunately, Dunningham and his dogs. Didn't he have
better things to do than to sit in on our lessons?

We settled into our usual spots on the sofa.
Today's topic: fashion. Doyle handed us several magazines and
catalogs to flip through. I saw a variety of short, sleeveless
dresses, skirts, and colorfully printed pants. Nice, but not
exactly my style. In Nowhere, we tended to stick to black jeans,
black tanks, and black hoodies. It was comfortable, and since we
could be dispatched at any moment, it was proper life-collecting
attire.

Of course a lot of us girls opted for the more
fashionable hoodies: the ones with skulls, crossbones, scythes, or
the Grim emblem embroidered with crystals. I'd heard that the girls
from the Upper Estates actually had their blazers embroidered with
diamonds.

Like most girls, Keira and I kept our
fingernails and toenails perfectly manicured and painted black,
which many human teenagers also did.

"I refuse to wear a tutu skirt," Keira
remarked, turning a page in a magazine.

"You don't have to," Dunningham said, "but you
cannot wear black jeans and hoodies every day. You'll stick out
like sore thumbs. Try to find a style you feel comfortable
with."

Once our teachers left, Bram grinned
mischievously. "You guys want to come with me?"

"Come with you where?" Josh asked.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

"No, thanks," I answered. Nothing good could
come from blindly following Bram anywhere.

"I want to go," Dorian said, but the quiver in
his voice told me he didn't really mean it. He was always trying to
prove himself to Bram or our father.

"Me too," Josh said. Of course. Every male in
Farrington was intrigued by Bram.

"No," Keira said firmly.

"Oh, come on. It won't take long," Bram
promised.

Since the boys insisted on tagging along, Keira
insisted on going to make sure her brother was okay, so I went
along too.

Bram walked briskly with his hands shoved in
the pockets of his hoodie and, as always, we trailed
behind.

After twenty minutes, I realized that Bram was
taking us to the edge of Farrington, toward Litropolis.

"Bram, seriously, where are we going?" Keira
asked with a hint of apprehension in her voice.

"I want to get something that's really going to
help me fit in on our mission," he answered.

"What?" Dorian asked.

"A tattoo. And maybe some ear gauge
plugs."

Both of those things were forbidden by Grim law
and considered body mutilation. It was also thought to be low
class. Something only Foragers and the people of Litropolis did. I
had to admit, since I was ten, I'd wanted a really cool
tattoo.

"Bram, are you crazy?" Keira asked.

"Nothing's going to happen. I'm doing it for
the assignment. Dunningham will understand."

Keira stopped. "Josh, let's go
back."