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.
“
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
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
“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
“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
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.
