I tested Grigori’s grip and the ropes binding my wrists, glancing back desperately at Vincent and the redhead who by some baffling explanation happened to be Byron Flynn. It was no use. If I hadn’t used too much life-force to help Vincent, I might stand a chance. Now, I could barely stay on my feet.

Involuntarily, I started to back away. Vladimir thought this place was the safest for us. As far away from Hector and the other Reapers as possible. But here she came—whoever she was—ruining everything. I bet Vlad didn’t see this coming.

Judging by the panic in his pale face, Byron Flynn must’ve recognized the blond girl. Vincent, on the other hand, had no clue about the deal I made with Hector’s familiar so any chance of him setting aside his anger and working together with me was close to nothing. For all he knew, Apple was still an ally. Nonetheless, I had to get us out of here.

“Byron Flynn?” I said, keeping my eyes forward. In my peripheral vision, I saw him nod inconspicuously.

Looked like we were thinking the same thing.

My heart pounded in my ears. Everything seemed to slow down a bit. I drew a deep breath and stomped on Grigori’s foot. With a yelp, he was forced to put his weight on his good leg, losing his grip on me in the process. I charged, ramming my shoulder into his stomach. He just staggered back, more surprised than hurt. Before he could recover and catch me, I shoved my knee in between his crotch and made a run for Vincent.

When I got to him, his right brow was bleeding but not before he had somehow managed to break the nose of the guy guarding him. The ropes binding him lay in shreds near his feet.

Byron Flynn had already slipped away from Levi’s guards. Easily, he dodged and sidestepped their attempts to catch him. But for some reason, he wasn’t fighting back.

In the middle of running, my whole body suddenly became heavy. It was like running under water with weights strapped all over me. Taken aback, I was forced to stop. I couldn’t move my arms or my legs any longer. In a matter of seconds, my feet were an inch off the ground as if an invisible force was holding me up.

Vincent cursed out loud. “Not again!” he growled.

He too was unable to move, his feet flailing in midair as he was lifted off the ground. Although, he kept on fighting with not much success.

Among the three of us, Byron Flynn seemed to be the only one who could move. He could’ve escaped all by himself. But he walked back to Levi’s men resignedly, his shoulders hunched, his gaze fixed on his feet.

“So it is real,” he mumbled, his face a mask of disbelief.

“I warned you,” Levi said unblinkingly, his voice ringing of self-assurance. Calmly, he just stood in front of us as he waited for his men to recover. “Harm is a concept that is not present here. In Halja, we only live in peace. You see, there is a powerful force in this place, in the very solid ground where you and I stand that prevents acts of violence. Keeps everything in perfect harmony. It is a force that is greater than any. No one—not even immortals like you—can violate its will. Its power comes from a higher being. Higher than anyone of us.”

“My master told me stories about this place,” Byron Flynn added, staring at his own hands. “I thought Halja was merely a myth.”

Halja. I kept repeating the name in my head. Didn’t ring a bell. Not that I was ever an expert in Geography. I wanted very much to ask but my mouth was shut closed.

With an eager smile, the blond girl immediately stepped down the elevated floor, her woven sandals clapping against the wooden floorboards.

 “Levi!” the girl waved, running toward us. “What took you so long?”

“Luci,” he stepped forward with something close to a smile. Something told me that he wasn’t Mr. Congeniality. “Where could your father be at this time? He expects our arrival.”

Luci. That was her name. I remembered Millie telling me that all of them—Hector’s minions—were made to have the same face.

Was she one of them?

The blond girl pouted, giving Levi a smoldering look. “But you said—“

“I know,” he replied patiently. “For the meantime, Grigori will have to escort you to the seaside. Shortly after I have settled matters with your father, I will be with you.”

“Hump,” the girl turned away from us, crossing her arms. I tried to search her face for some hint that she recognized us. For the moment, she didn’t seem interested at all. “Why does it always have to be Grigori?”

As expected, Grigori had quickly recovered from my low blow. He still walked a tad funny though. He would probably kill me later for that.

With a diffident grunt, he scratched the back of his head and mumbled, “Don’t say that Luci. I’ll carry you on my back all the way to the shore if you want.” He looked really disappointed about Luci rejecting his company.

“Really?” Luci chirped as she went and clung around Grigori’s arm. “Abum is in the orchidarium.” As quick as a cricket, she climbed over the huge dude’s back and shouted, “Well, let’s go, Grigori! Let’s show them the way!” in a tone a little too enthusiastic for the occasion.

I was still floating three inches above ground when one of Levi’s men took me by the shoulders and pushed me forward like a grocery cart. Not the coolest way to barge into the supposed enemies’ lair but it wasn’t like I had a choice. It didn’t hurt one bit. It felt so weird though as if my body was covered tightly with plastic wrap.

We took the path along the cherry trees. While walking under them, I could just make out the faintest sweet smell in the air. It didn’t smell like cherries. It smelled like innocence. Just the false feeling of being safe.

In silence, I tried to think of the worst case scenario. My mind just went blank. With a sigh, I focused my eyes on the way. Vincent was doing the same. He should’ve at least talked to me. Not just shut his mind from me like this. And so it seemed that we just entered another rousing game of Ignore Me and I was it.

“Who’s Mr. S?” I quietly asked Grigori.

He seemed hesitant to answer for a second. Couldn’t blame him. But in the end, he grunted, “He… takes care of everything in Halja.”

“He’s my father,” Luci added with a smile.

Her gooseberry-green eyes made me uneasy. Maybe it was the seemingly sincere smile, the innocent face, the friendliness of her tone that I couldn’t believe. In a strange place like this, trust was one thing we couldn’t afford to give away.

Clearing my throat, I looked down and muttered, “So… is he like your leader?”

“You can consider it that,” Luci replied. I could feel her scrutinizing me in a curious way. “But Abum is not a formal leader. Our people come to him for advice, yes. Whenever there’s a conflict—which rarely ever happens here—he is the one consulted for diplomatic resolution. Other than that, he’s just like everybody else.”

Maybe this Mr. S can help us find the guy we’re looking for.

Grigori chuckled almost nervously. “A piece of advice. Don’t even think of saying the ‘S’ word in front of him. He’ll… lose it.”

“What ‘S’ word?”

At the end of the meandering path was a wooden gate. Honeysuckle and ivy climbed all over the battered granite walls, bougainvillea sprawling from the flower boxes. It made the orchidarium seem like an enchanted woodland.

Before I could ask again, Grigori pushed the gate and forged ahead. Flowers of all sizes and shapes, of different colors welcomed us. They were everywhere—on the ground, on the walls, on the tree branches, on dead driftwood. Butterflies fluttered away as we came in, disappearing deeper into the garden.

“Abum! Abum?” Luci called. “Levi’s here”—she glanced back at us—“with the outsiders.”

Just then, I felt my feet slowly touch the grassy floor. Panting, I sagged onto my knees, feeling faint. I felt like I just sprinted nonstop for five hours. Everything was a blur, slowly spinning over my head. I heard Vincent moan behind me. He caught his forehead with a hand before collapsing beside me.

“What’s… happening?” he demanded, using his free arm to try to push himself up just to stumble back down while gasping for air. “W-where… are we?”

A man in a gray-green robe emerged from the rows of ancient driftwood that held the countless species of orchids in front of us. He couldn’t have been more than thirty. His skin was as white as paper, his shoulder-length hair a shade fairer than Luci’s. With a faultlessly angular face and a kind smile, he seemed perfectly harmless. Yet his contemplative eyes—a pale metallic gray—sent shudders down my back.

Eerily familiar. Like déjà vu. Like I was looking into Death’s eyes.  Like he was trying to draw my soul out of my body. And no matter what I did I couldn’t look away.

“You’re in Halja,” he said in a benign velvety voice. “Don’t worry. Exhaustion is just a temporary side-effect of the Bind. This place has the power to Bind people against fighting. Therefore, offenders are drained of their strength to prevent further aggression.”

“Halja,” Vincent forced out a mocking laugh in between his struggles for air. “I’ve… never heard of such place in my six hundred years of existence.”

“Six hundred years… Such a youngling,” the fair-haired guy commented as he stepped toward us with an air that played between amused and affronted. “But you have, child. You have heard of this place. Perhaps, because Halja is known by many names,” he said, seeming to examine the spray bottle in his hand. “Some people call it The Underworld. Land of the Dead. Spirit World—although, such is a name more suited for Nirvana. But most of you know it as—“

“Hell,” Vincent cut him off, his eyes widening as he agitatedly scanned the whole place like he was going to pass out soon. “This can’t be happening…”

“This is Hell?” I muttered incredulously. “Don’t tell me. You’re Satan. So where are all the burning fires?”

Behind me, Grigori braced himself, tightening his grip on Luci. “I told you not to say the ‘S’ word in front of him!” he hissed, flinching. “Now, he’ll get really mad!”

“Oh, that…” the blond chuckled nonchalantly, turning his back on us.

Looking up to the sky, he raised both his arms and the ground began to shake. Cracks crept from his feet, snaking toward every which way. In between the cracks, glowing embers sputtered like boiling lava. The heat burned the air, making it more difficult to breathe. The hair on my arms raised and I couldn’t stop my body from trembling. Black patches soon blocked my vision, mouth filling with the taste of bile. Something trickled from the side of my eyes, down to my cheek. I touched it and saw blood on my fingers.

The guy reeked of impending doom. As if he breathed in fear and breathed out nightmares I couldn’t even begin to imagine. And then I got to thinking that maybe he really was Satan.

For a second, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing that I forgot I was holding my breath. Behind me, Byron Flynn was reciting another poem that was without a doubt, fit for the occasion. Something about fires of hell and stuff. The only problem was I was too shocked to figure out even one word he was saying.

“P-please!” I stuttered, covering my ears in an attempt to mute the deafening rumble of earth underneath us. “W-we don’t want any trouble! We just… We just came here to see someone! An old man named Sathariel!”

The rumbling stopped. Slowly, the ground quaked again but this time, the cracks were closing up, the embers retreating down, deep within the earth. In next to no time, the ground became so still it seemed like it hadn’t parted at all.

Levi was about to say something when the blond guy silenced him with a wave of his hand. Pensively, he turned his attention to us and came closer with a curious smile that made his eyes get smaller.

“An old man…” he tilted his head to me before going back to tending his orchids. “Hmm… Say lass, what could you possibly need from an old man such as Sathariel?”

“I’m not sure. B-but… Look. I’ve got a note for him somewhere in here.” I sounded so desperate it was starting to make me sick.

Frantically, I struggled to empty my pockets. Vladimir’s letter and the Helcium dropped from my trembling hands. One of Levi’s men hunkered down in front of me to pick them up then handed it to the blond man. For a while, he put down his spray bottle and read the letter in silence, the Helcium dangling from his fingers. My mouth gaped a little, my fingers twitching to reach out for the pendant. Still, I kept silent, clenching my fists on my sides. It wasn’t time to get clingy on things.

“D-do you know him?” I stuttered, my voice shaking.

“Yes,” he replied lightly. “In fact, I do.”

“Please… We just have to see him. Where is he?”

Unhurriedly, he stepped in front of me, bending over to meet my eyes before saying, “You are looking at him.”

All I could come up with was “Y-you’re not an old man…”

“Exactly my point. Neither do I have horns nor a tail,” he smiled again, wider this time. “This letter tells me that you need a safe place to hide. I take it you made it in the old Reaper’s bad books, yes?”

I shrugged. “I guess you can say that...” Total understatement.

 “I see,” he shook his head in disappointment. “Azrael has not always been the easiest fellow to get along with.”

“Azrael?”

“Pardon me,” he answered, smiling apologetically. “I forgot that he is known nowadays as Pilgrim Reaper. Death, if you may. But back in the days, when all creation are young and we still reside in the immortal realm, he was just… Azrael.”

Vincent made an effort to lift his gaze despite the struggle on his face. Beads of sweat started to form on his face and there was blood on the side of his mouth.

 “You know him?” his words scraped out of his throat.

“Of course.” The smile on Sathariel’s face lingered, yet his silver eyes suddenly turned blank. “But that matter is of less importance at the moment. What I want to know is why Azrael wants you. If I find your answer worthy, then I might possibly consider letting you stay.”

“You cannot possibly allow this, Sathariel!” Levi protested, throwing his cloak back. “Let the Reapers’ deal with their own disasters!”

The scary look on Vincent’s face told me that he wasn’t too keen on being threatened. “And if we don’t?”

Sathariel shook his head, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “This is the safest place on earth. Safest as there could be. But if you’re not willing to meet my condition, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Hell. The safest place on earth? Yeah, right. Maybe pigs could fly too. I just didn’t know it yet.

Looking all disappointed, Sathariel pressed his fingers on the sides of his forehead and ordered, “Send them back to the woods… let them find their way back.”

“But Mr. S,” Grigori butted in, his tone having a trace of disapproval. “If we leave them there, Zaebos will slaughter them!”

I was thinking, maybe I wouldn’t like this Zaebos guy, whoever he was.

When Sathariel couldn’t answer right away, Levi answered in his place. “We do not meddle with the Reaper’s business. That has been our way for many centuries. In return, the Reaper does not bother us. We cannot risk our peace only to offer these outsiders refuge.”

Without warning, Vincent snatched my arm and shakily pulled me up to his side. “We have… to get out… of here,” he mumbled, breathing erratically. “We shouldn’t be here!”

Touché.

“Relax, Vincent. Vlad sent us here. You trust him, don’t you?” I whispered to him trying to sound as cool as possible.

At a complete loss, he staggered backward. I caught him by the arm and pulled him back to his feet. In the end, we both stumbled. Vincent looked delirious, his breathing irregular. His skin was hot against mine.

“We have to… We have to…” he kept muttering, staring blankly at nothing.

“He’s burning up!” I told the others then I looked up at Sathariel. “Please… help us.”

Something in me wanted to bail out. Maybe Vlad had miscalculated everything. The kid’s a genius. But Hell? For real? Either this was part of his super-elaborate master plan or he just lost it.

Come on. I scolded myself. When did the squirt ever let you down?

As if in deep thought, Sathariel paced back in forth in front of us. “I’m thinking…”

I tightened my fingers around Vincent’s wrist and attempted to will some of my life-force to him only to discover that the link wasn’t there anymore. Searching for it was like groping for a needle in a haystack in total darkness. The Transference was completely gone.

“I… I can’t heal him!” I looked around, panicking. “Please! Help us!”

“Of course you can’t heal him,” Sathariel muttered mostly to himself. “This is Halja, for heaven’s sake. You can’t use immortal abilities here. Once you set foot on this place, you’re as good as any normal person. You can get sick and catch a cold. The only thing you can’t do is grow old. And also, you are outsiders. Threats to our perfect, quiet utopia.”

“You can’t let these outsiders stay here, Sathariel!” Levi insisted, his commanding voice resounding all over the place. “Remember what happened six centuries ago? Learn from your mistakes!”

Worriedly, Luci skipped down from Grigori’s back and approached Sathariel. “Abum… you’re talking to yourself again.”

“Silence!” he hissed at his daughter, breaking into a coughing episode. “I’m… talking to myself.”

“Abum,” she caught her father’s arm and helped him to a wooden seat. “You shouldn’t have summoned the Fires. You know how dangerous it is for your health.”

Levi fixed his cold blue eyes on us. “See the outsiders to the gate.”

Submissively, Grigori pulled me to my feet. “I’m sorry, Little Miss. Have to follow orders.”

“No,” I whispered, my thoughts racing. I didn’t come all the way here just to get turned down. If I had to gamble, I would. “Alessandra Clandestine.”

Everyone froze. Eyes darted to me and they were all questioning. So the name rang a bell. Even in here. As it turned out, my ancestor was pretty famous.

Sathariel toppled down his chair as he stood up, his mouth parting wordlessly before he could mumble, “Excuse me?”

“Alessandra Clandestine,” I repeated, sounding resolute as I forced my body to turn around and face him. “I… have her soul inside me”—I finally gathered the courage to look him in the eyes—“and he”—I cocked my head to Vincent’s direction—“is Pilgrim Reapers youngest son. That is why… That’s why he wants us.”

Like a grandfather clock’s pendulum, Sathariel’s steel gray eyes shifted to me then to my master. After several soundless seconds, he retreated back to his as though all his strength was just sapped away from him. Blankly, he looked up again at the sky, right above head where the peaks of the three crags met, like the three musketeers joining hands for their famous “One for all and all for one.”

After a deep breath, he announced, “Call Belial and have them attended to. I will meet with them in the morning.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi! Been twenty four hours late. But I hope no too late. Just wanna thank everyone for keeping Reapers in the hit charts. I know its decline from number 1 is my fault (for being a lame updater). Still having a hard time with my internet connection, but I'm getting by. So I'm counting on you guys to help spread the word about Reapers. Will be back to my regular updates next week. (Tuesdays and Fridays)       Over and out, shim~