Page 61 of Professor and the Seer
A groggy John rose from the ground, dazed and yet so courageous, holding his umbrella sword before him. I couldn’t leave him to fight alone, even as the odds sucked. Despite John’s warning to stay on the steps, I bolted down them, veering from the minotaurs coming for me, heading for my lover even as I had no idea how to help.
My sister Enyo would have kicked their asses. Dina would have fried them. If I’d had a dagger, I would have blinded one at the very least, but I only had me.
Me and a magic I didn’t understand. A power I feared. A gift that didn’t always obey me. An ability that currently overwhelmed since, in my panic, I’d not built my wall. Every step came with a hundred visions.
The grass underfoot living and dying through season after season.
The grubs in the soil birthing, feeding, spawning, dying.
A minotaur scratching its balls as it guarded the wicket into a castle.
Another minotaur leaning on a parapet wall and never saw the bullet that took it in the eye.
What I didn’t see? The monsters dying today. What I’d also not seen? John’s death.
This wasn’t how he died, which meant there had to be a way out. Should I pray again?
I’d done it in desperation in the library, a mental shout: I need help. And who replied? Reaper. Not a name I’d mentioned to John, mostly because I didn’t want him to wonder about the connection I had with the entity.
I wasn’t sure I wanted Reaper’s, but did I have a choice? John parried the meaty, swinging fists of the monster harrying him, but without a kill shot, he’d soon be overwhelmed.
If you’re listening, Reaper, now might be a good time to intervene again.
Rather than possess me, a vision hit, only it wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced before. For one, I remained standing in the rain, getting soaked, but everything around me stopped moving. The monster in front of John paused mid-swing. Another had his mouth open to snarl. Only the rain kept coming down.
I became aware of Reaper standing beside me, and despite calling him for aid, I demanded, “Are you responsible for this?”
“Not me. Blame an enemy that sees you as a threat.”
“Me? Someone should tell them they’re worried about the wrong sister,” I growled.
“Not all battles are won fighting,” was his cryptic reply.
“Well, this one is going to need a bit of help, or we’re going to lose,” I pointed out.
“The minotaurs won’t kill you. They’ve been told to fetch you.”
“John won’t let them.” I would have staked everything I owned on him playing the hero to the death rather than see me come to harm.
“You are correct, and he’ll die for it.” His shrug caused his cloak to ripple.
His flat reply didn’t please me one bit. “Not acceptable. I won’t have him killed because of me.”
“Then what will you offer to save his life?” Reaper asked.
“Anything.” The honest truth. I loved John. Had loved him since the first time I saw him in a vision. Would do anything to never see that light in his eyes go out.
“Will you help me?” Reaper asked.
“What kind of help are we talking about?”
“Vengeance.”
“Why would you need me for that?”
“Because she”—a pronoun growled with abhorrence—“never leaves her fortress. Even now, this storm, the illusions, the minotaurs, she controls them from afar.”
“Damn.” I couldn’t help but be impressed. “This person you’re gunning for is powerful.”