Scythe Does Matter (6 page)

Professor Schotz rang the bell enthusiastically. “Very good, Amber. Please take your seat and send up another of your team members. That is indeed the correct answer, right out of the textbook, and it segues nicely into my next question.”

M’Kimbi jogged to the front, high-fiving Amber on the way.

“Can a Reaper, who is either an immortal being”—he nodded toward Kali and Ira—“or an already dead soul like most of the rest of us—except you, of course, Kirsty.” He smiled in my direction.

I squirmed in my seat, wishing he hadn’t singled me out like that. And I wished he’d finished the question. Or had he and I’d somehow managed to miss it?

Behind me Rod made a rude noise.

“Can a Reaper die?” the Professor finally finished his question. “Ira?”

The angel stared straight ahead, shoulders back. The big bulge under his hoodie twitched and I wondered if he was nervous. He claimed it was a backpack but you never saw him get books or snacks from it. And I’d never seen a wing-shaped backpack before.

“Yes, Professor. In some extreme cases, sir, an individual, whether mortal or immortal, can die a permanent death whereby they disappear and are not to be seen again on any plane: Heaven, Hell or Mortal Coil. They just sort of fade away.”

Professor Schotz nodded and rang the bell absently, as if he hadn’t really been listening. The bell hung from a little stand and now I noticed it had a string tied to its clapper. So if the bell is rung by yanking on the string, what then, was the hammer for? I swallowed hard, not looking forward to seeing a demonstration or worse yet, feeling one.

“Yes, Ira. That is also correct. Thank you.”

Ira walked back to his seat. I wanted to acknowledge his triumph but somehow the subject matter was a big ol’ buzzkill. Kali caught my gaze, nodding. She went to the front of the room.

“Question three. Where do these doubly dead souls go? Yes, Crystal.”

“They get fed back into the death cycle, sir.” She grinned hugely, obviously very proud of herself.

“I’m afraid not, Crystal.” He held out his hand like a surgeon. “Hammer!” Dante slapped the small hammer into Schotz’s outstretched palm. I shivered in my seat. Here’s where we find out what the hammer is for.

“Thank you for playing along, Crystal. Have a nice afterlife.” He tapped her hard on her dyed blonde head with the hammer.

“
Ow.
” She rubbed the spot. “What is up with that? It, like, hurt, you . . . whoa!” A strong wind rose inside the classroom, whipping papers and pencils off desks. I yanked my hair out of my face, squinting against the stinging dust.

At the front of the room, Crystal began to spin as if she were in the midst of her own personal tornado, like the Tasmanian Devil in the cartoons. The swirling vortex whipped her out of the room, not via the door, but directly through the wall—without damaging the wall. It was like when I’d first been scythed up on the Coil and some physical laws still applied while others went out the window.

The room remained silent for a long moment as the papers and dust settled and then it erupted into a chorus of questions.

“What just happened?”

“Where’d she go?”

“Is that fair?”

Tiffany and Amber just squealed.

The professor waited for the commotion to die down. Dante tapped the hourglass, raising a single eyebrow at the professor.

“Did you think there’d be no penalty for an incorrect answer? We cannot have mistakes—forgive me, Dante—in the Reaper Corps. Ms. Crystal has been cast out. As you know from the readings, there’s quite an honored tradition around casting out.”

Tiffany and Amber squealed louder. Professor Schotz shook his head and raised his hands in a placating gesture.

“Now, girls, please. It’s only temporary. She will have the opportunity to retake the in-class portion of the training with the next group. Hopefully she’ll do better next time. It was obvious to me from her answer that she was not nearly as familiar with the coursework as a Reaper needs to be. Once you’re out in the field, there’s no room for error. Souls are at stake!”

Crystal’s BFFs settled down, apparently realizing they still had an opportunity to carry out their plans to be reincarnated together. Since they intended to pool their Karma Kredit points, this was just a temporary setback for them. Once they’d been assured their friend was safe, they turned their attention to more important things—like re-sheveling their disheveled hair and makeup.

I’d been nervous before but now I was a total mess. I didn’t want to spend five more minutes in this or any other classroom. I’d been lucky to join this class partway through. To have to start again, this time from the beginning . . . no. Just, no! I had a deadline and time was moving faster and faster.

After a few more minutes, Professor Schotz called the class back to order, carrying on where he’d left off. Rod swaggered to the front of the room, replacing his fallen teammate. The swagger was obviously false bravado as sweat dribbled down his Neolithic forehead. He shouldered his way in between Kali and M’Kimbi, flashing Horace a shaky thumbs-up.

“Now,” Professor Schotz began again. “Can one of you give me the correct answer? Where do doubly dead souls go?”

Nobody raised a hand. They all just looked around as if the answer were written somewhere in the room.

The hourglass pinged, startling me. I hadn’t realized the answers were timed. “C’mon, people. No answer within the allotted time earns all three of you a failing grade.”

M’Kimbi promptly raised his hand. At a nod from the professor, he answered, “No one knows, sir.”

“Sadly, that is correct. You may be seated.” Professor Schotz gave the bell a halfhearted shake. Damn. I should have had that kind of question. There were so many things I didn’t know I’d be sure to get it right.

But the nature of the questions about a soul’s final death was depressing as Hell. I knew we dealt in death but the life of a Reaper had seemed exciting: chasing down errant souls, bringing in cheaters like Conrad Iver. Now I wasn’t just nervous, I was scared and depressed. I was glad we were going to that new Mexican place after the final—if we got out of this alive. I might just indulge in a little firewater later. It would help me let off steam.

One by one, my classmates answered their questions, cycling through until every team except for mine was on its last entrant. With Kali at the front and me as yet untested, we still had two to go. I had already bitten my own nails down to the quick. If Kali had still been sitting next to me, I might have started on hers.

The professor shuffled his single sheet of paper, which was a skill in itself. I dug my nails into my palms as he asked the next question. “What happens if you shout the magic word
Expelliarmus
?”

Choruses of “Huh?” and “Wha—?” filled the air. Even I went, “What text was that . . . ?” And then I realized why it sounded familiar and wished I was up there.

Kali grinned. “It’s a disarming charm, sir. It sends another wizard’s wand flying.”

Dante burst out laughing. “I didn’t think anybody would get that one right, Professor.”

The professor actually giggled as he rang the bell for Kali’s answer. “Well done, Kali. Do you know why I just asked a ridiculous question like that in the middle of an exam? And this is an aside, not part of the test.”

Kali shrugged, all six shoulders moving in unison. “Because you’re a big
Harry Potter
fan?”

“Yes, there is that. But what it’s supposed to demonstrate is that it’s important to keep up with trends and behaviors back on the Coil. And that it’s important to keep a sense of humor. Death can be a real downer.”

Professor Schotz looked over the heads of the three students at the front of the room, settling his gaze on me. When he continued, I had the sense he wasn’t talking to the entire group anymore.

“Ours is a depressing business at times. We have to deal with bargain breakers, rip people from the bosoms of loving families, and when we make friends here in Hell, often they leave just as we’re getting attached to them.” He smiled, raising his hands to embrace the entire class once again. “It’s important to make the most of your death. You only live . . . well, as many times as it takes.” He removed his glasses and polished them on his robe again, leaving a greasy smear on the dark fabric and not really cleaning the lenses at all.

Kali returned to her seat, stopping on the way to lean down and hug me. When you’ve been hugged by a six-armed god, you’ve
really
been hugged. I sat back and grinned. Until I realized everyone was looking at me.

“Oh, skeg,” I muttered. It was finally my turn to face the death march. Rendered clumsy by nervousness, I stumbled from my seat, awkwardly making my way to the front of the room.

I stood between Horace, who, while he’d chosen his friends poorly, was actually supersmart, and Tiffany, who could be logical but wasn’t fast on her feet. The Death Valley girls tended to depend on Amber’s eidetic memory rather than learn the material themselves. Then Horace answered his question and it was down to Tiffany and me.

“Next question.”

I focused so hard I could barely concentrate on the question. It wasn’t only that my own future rode on this and that I’d get my own personal tornado if I couldn’t answer. No, I was afraid I might let down my team, disappoint my professor and Dante. Not to mention endanger Aunt Carey’s life.

Of course, if I didn’t pass this time, I could always repeat the course with Crystal. But by the time I graduated—assuming I did that time—my aunt would have already become Conrad’s next victim. I couldn’t fail. I couldn’t. If I failed . . .

“Could you repeat the question, Professor?”

Question? What question? It’s a good thing Tiffany asked. I’d been too wound up to pay attention.

The professor looked up, his sharp gaze dancing back and forth from Tiffany to me and finally landing on me. He gave one of those little coughs that’s more about disapproval than phlegm.

“One more time, then. Please pay attention, everyone. Once you have received your scythe, what is the one thing you are
not
to do?”

The pause that followed was the kind of silence that’s comprised of shuffling feet and averted gazes. Even those examinees who had already answered their questions looked puzzled.

“Come on now, people. This was in the handouts.” Professor Schotz tapped his foot. Dante tapped the hourglass. I looked over and noticed the sand was rising—actually flowing upward from the bottom bulb back to the top. Was this the result of something Dante had done or were those crazy time engineers and their wacky time machine at it again? Then Dante winked. I would so thank him later.

That’s when Tiffany raised her hand. It was a little tentative and I had to admire her bravery. If one of us didn’t answer, we’d both fail.

The professor looked a little surprised, if the gaping mouth and eyes like saucers were anything to go by. He coughed again, although this time I think it was to cover his shock.

“Very well, Tiffany. You go, girl.” The audience tittered and he looked embarrassed. One more cough before he repeated, “What is the one thing you should not do with your scythe?”

Tiffany scrunched her face up, looking adorably focused—and also like she really, really wasn’t sure of her answer. “Um, you should never, uh . . . cross the streams?”

“Cross the . . . ?” The professor’s eyebrows arched up his forehead. “And right after that we’ll use the force, shall we? No, that is incorrect. I’m sorry, Ms. Tiffany, but you’re going to have to repeat the classroom portion of Reaper training along with your friend.”

Tiffany forced a brave little smile. Her lower lip didn’t tremble though, nor did her eyes tear up. In fact, she looked relieved and maybe a little pleased.

“That’s okay,” she said, voice calm and even. Her words were for the professor but her gaze was fixed on her remaining buddy, Amber. Why did she not sound upset about having to repeat the course? After all, she wasn’t exactly academic material . . .

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.