Scythe Does Matter

“Lucy ought to fire her speechwriter—with real fire,” I whispered to Kali. She nodded and yawned. You’d think with six hands she’d put one over her mouth.

The speech went on and on and on. I fidgeted until Kali flicked me again. Ow.

“And on that note, I’d like to call the graduates to the stage.”

M’Kimbi punched me in the arm, grinning. “She is addressing ourselves. We must go to her now.” He dashed to the stage, shouldering Horace out of the way. Ira bypassed the stairs and flew to the front. I ended up near the back of the line, glad there were only six of us now, then appalled at myself for that selfish thought. Why, if Rod were here, I’d be glad to see him—at the back of the line, that is.

“C’mon. C’mon.” I jittered nervously. I had a scythe to get and an aunt to save.

“Before we begin to distribute your scythes . . .”

Oh, seriously, lady. Now what?

“I’d like to call Reaper Alighieri up on the stage. Dante, dear. Where are you?” She shaded her boring brown eyes and scanned the crowd. “Oh, yes. There he is, in the back. While we wait for Dante to make his way up to the stage, I’ll just entertain you with an amusing anecdote, shall I?”

She told some dull tale about a soul Deal she’d once made. I barely listened, although the name Faust seemed familiar. Instead I searched the crowd for Dante. He stepped past me on the way to the podium without so much as a glance in my direction. By the time Lucy Phurr finished her speech, Dante stood before her and my feet had started hurting.

“To show my appreciation for the part you played in averting the recent crisis, it is my pleasure, Reaper Alighieri, to reinstate your rank of Reaper First Class before this assemblage and permit you the right to come and go between Hell and the Mortal Coil as you see fit in the execution of your duties as Reaper.”

She shook his hand while we whooped and yelled. I was proud of him, finally getting to go dirt-side again. I wondered if we could partner up on some of the more difficult reaps that lay ahead of us. After I finished living out my life on the Coil, that is. And if Dante ever agreed to speak to me again. And if they still let me be a Reaper when I returned from rescuing my aunt and having a life. I suspect that going AWOL your first day on the job is something that goes in your personnel file, even in Hell.

Dante left the stage and Lucy Phurr began calling us over to the podium one at a time.

She congratulated each new Reaper warmly and personally. It took for-skeggin’-ever: Ira, M’Kimbi, Horace, Kali. Only Amber remained behind me.

It reminded me of my high school graduation, when I felt like a jittery bundle of boredom. Of course, when I’d looked out into the audience on that day, in addition to my friends, Aunt Carey and Leslie had been there, smiling proudly.

My friends were here today, too. Charon and Claire. Sue and Bob. I hadn’t expected Sybil to get the day off, but there she was, right down front. She waved. I gave a tiny finger wave back, but she kept waving, getting wilder and wilder until she resembled a crazy helicopter. What the skeg? She smiled hugely, gesturing and pointing at the two nice young women sitting beside her. They looked awfully familiar. Who could they . . . ? Oh, my God! I must have been thinking that so loudly that the air turned blue despite the fact I hadn’t said anything out loud. “Oops,” I said to Amber, waving the rotten-fish fumes away. Amber narrowed her eyes at me. Well, excuse me. What’s a little more sulfur in Hell? Then I remembered what had made me take the Lord’s name in vein and turned back to the audience. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There sat Aunt Carey and Leslie—the youthful, healthy versions.

Carey looked so proud. And a little dazed. They must have only just arrived in Hell. Sybil had broken all protocol to bring them to my graduation. I was so touched.

Wait. Wait! Aunt Carey and Leslie were here? Now? At my graduation? I stared at Sybil. She mouthed, “Car accident,” grimacing in sympathy.

The whole family could be together again.

But I still wanted my life back, didn’t I?

And Conrad still needed a soul to buy his extension with. If he couldn’t get Carey’s, then who would he go after? Who would he try to trick into trading their soul for his?

I had a horrible inkling.

“Kirsty d’Arc!”

Oops. I’d made the Queen of Hell call me twice. My bad. I crossed the distance to the podium.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Kirsty. You’ve been causing quite a stir since you got here.”

I probably should have been nervous, but really, I was preoccupied and unimpressed. I shook her hand, wondering if I should curtsy. “Thank you, Ms. Phurr.”

“Oh, please. Call me Lucy.”

Just hurry up and give me my skeggin’ scythe, I wanted to say, but didn’t.

“You’ve proven yourself a worthy denizen of Hell, Kirsty, and a contributing member of our little subterranean society. It’s my great pleasure today to present you with your scythe and bestow upon you the time-honored title of Reaper, Grim or otherwise.” She produced my beautiful new scythe, waving it around as she spoke.

Light glinted off its shiny chrome surface, practically mesmerizing me. I reached for it, but she whipped it away again.

“I’m not going to give you this scythe, however. At least, not right now.”

What the skeg? Hell was all about temptation, and my patience was at an end. I considered shouting, “Let’s do lunge” and diving for my scythe to rip it from her grasp, although that kind of behavior might come back to bite me on the ass someday.

“Excuse me, ma’am. I thought I’d earned—”

“Well, Kirsty. I’ve got a special gift for you. Instead of a scythe, I’m granting your appeal!” She sounded exactly like Oprah during one of her “Favorite Things” episodes, complete with little hand-claps and a big, toothy smile.

“You’re what?” I shrieked.

“Yes, I know. It’s hard to believe. Well, away you go now. Have a nice life.”

She gave a dismissive little gesture and I levitated, like a puppet, drifting away from the stage. Away from my friends. My family. My afterlife. Dante.

“Nooo!” I screamed, unheard over the applause. Applause? Oh, great. Was everyone glad to see me go?

My soul flew faster and faster, passing through Hell’s roof, scaring the skeg out of ol’ Sol as he drove his chariot along, dragging daylight behind him.

I was getting my life back, which was what I wanted, right? But how the skeg was I going to reap Conrad without a scythe to call my own?

Chapter 14 Karmageddon

MOMENTS LATER, I bounced into my body. I drew a great gasping breath and tried to open my eyes. It took three tries since they were nearly crusted shut with dried tears. Had I been crying in my sleep?

I lay there, trying to absorb what had just happened. I had just been handed everything I wanted. Shouldn’t I be happy?

“Nooo!”

Blinking some more, I looked around. Ow. Talk about a stiff neck.

The hospital room was exactly the way I’d dreamed it over the months I’d been away—except for the tragic tableau before me.

Just as I’d feared, now that Conrad couldn’t steal my aunt’s soul to guarantee his extension, he’d found another person he was willing to sacrifice. Someone with no family except her father.

And he didn’t even need to. There was no way I could locate the stapler and find a way to get it to Judge