School of Deaths (3 page)

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Authors: Christopher Mannino

Tags: #YA Fantasy

BOOK: School of Deaths
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“I don’t want to be a skeleton.” She glanced at the corner, but the boy had gone.

“No, of course not, don’t be silly. Still, you must understand there are no more…” He paused and studied her again. “I suppose I should tell you this now.”

“What?”

“Deaths are chosen from the Living, and serve in the Land of the Dead. Everyone serves at least one year, though the vast majority serves until they fade.”

“Fade?”

“When a Death has served for about a hundred years, he passes permanently into the Land of Death. In a way, they die. although that term is used differently. To
fade
is a good thing. You live on in the Land of the Dead. If you are killed as a Death, you
cease
.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you stop existing, and no one remembers you. You are wiped from memory, from the universe, but I’m off topic. I was trying to tell you something important.”

“I’m sorry, go on.” It was easiest to listen. Maybe he’d let her go home if she heard him out.

“Well, there are no new Deaths born. Names are selected, it’s usually an error-free process, never been a problem before now.”

“Yes, and now?”

“There are no female Deaths.” Athanasius raised his hoof-like hands in exasperation.

“What do you mean?”

“Once,
once
, a million years ago, long before I was born, there was one. A female Death named Lovethar.” He shuddered. “She was a terrible witch, a horrible beast who tried to sell the Deaths to the Dragons.” He paused, and whispered. “Never again.”

“You want me to be a Death for a year, but I’m—”

“You’re a girl,” he said. “This has not happened for a million years and was never supposed to happen again.”

Suzie laughed. “This is absurd,” she said. “You want me to be a Death? Like the Grim Reaper? Kill people and bring them to—”

“Kill people? Certainly not. Deaths do not kill, only transport. The details will be made clearer in class, of course.”

“Class?” Suzie laughed again. “What, is there a school for Deaths?”

“Like any job, you need to be trained. Even if you’re only here for a year, though chances are you’ll be here far longer.”

“You said if I sign the contract, I only need to be here, be a Death, for one year.” Suzie surveyed the room again, her eyes lingering on Athanasius’s goat face. This was too vivid, too real. The pinches did nothing. Was it possible?

“True, however you will take a final test at the end of the year. Less than a tenth of Deaths actually pass. Those who do not pass, remain Deaths.”

“You mean if I fail, I’ll be a Death forever?”

“Until you fade or are killed, yes,” said Athanasius. “I suppose I should tell you, many believe in another way of returning. Nearly every Death who fails has tried at some point or another. Yet no Death has ever returned to the Living World after failing the test.”

“What if I want to go back now?”

“It’s not that simple. Yes, you’re free to return now, but if you do, your soul will continue to fade into the Land of the Dead. You will die within the month.”

“And my family? My mom and dad? What about my brother or my friends?” Suzie thought of Mom and Dad, of Joe, of Crystal and Monica, even of Nurse Cherwell and Dr. Fox. “I can’t vanish for a year.”

“They will be worried. This will be difficult for your family if you do go back after a year. The few, and I do stress
extremely
few, who have returned often find their absence hard to explain, since they have no memory from the year. Yet it has been done.”

“This is impossible.” Suzie’s mind spun. This had to be a dream, or some sort of trick. Maybe her illness had spread to her mind. Even Dr. Fox hadn’t been certain what was happening.

“Plamen,” said Athanasius. “Show them in.” The green-eyed boy emerged from the corner and walked to the door behind her, opening it. Cronk came back into the room with something behind him. The beagle barked, leaping at Suzie. She recognized him at once, though it couldn’t be.

“Bumper?” she asked, astonished.

“He lives in the Land of the Dead,” said Athanasius. “We can bring more souls to convince you; most find the reality of this position difficult to accept.”

Bumper appeared young and healthy. The limp in his leg was gone, but something different stared from his eyes. He had a dull, glassy look as if part of him was somewhere else, far away. Still, he was definitely her dog. She’d known him for ten years; they’d grown up together. He licked her face and she petted him.

This was real. Bumper was real. Somehow, everything here was real. The Deaths, the world, the possibility of going home in a year, the danger she’d be trapped here, the possibility of dying if she went home now. She sat, petting Bumper for what felt like hours.

The world turned, whatever world it was. The In-Between, with two suns, dead grass, and the smell of eggs and strawberries. The Death with a stutter and the Gate-Keeper who looked like a goat. It was ludicrous, but real. She wanted Mom and Dad, wanted desperately to go home, yet there was only one way home.

“If I go home now, I will definitely die?” Suzie said.

“I’m sorry,” said Athanasius. “An old rule, to encourage more Deaths. You can only return when your contract has been fulfilled. I’m afraid there is no other way.”

“I will sign,” she said. “But I’ll pass your stupid test. I’ll spend one year as a Death, and I
will
go home.”

“That’s all we ask,” said Athanasius. He picked up a large quill pen and dipped it in ink, before passing the parchment to her.

Cronk took Bumper outside again. Suzie didn’t turn to say goodbye. She fought back tears when she took the pen.

“It will be quite difficult for you,” said Athanasius. “This won’t be easy. You will be the only one in the entire world.”

“The only girl?” Suzie blinked but a tear still fell.

“Yes,” said Athanasius. “They will mock and scorn you. Many will say you will not complete the year. I fear for you, Susan.”

“I was sick. I understand what it’s like to be different, and I’m not afraid.” She put the pen on the paper and scrawled her name.

Athanasius took the contract from her and stamped the parchment with wax. He added it to the piles on his desk.

“I admire your courage,” he said, peering at her with his snakelike yellow eyes. “I have seen many who were terrified or who denied this place to the end. Hundreds came here only to return home.” He sighed. “Hundreds who died a needless, ignorant death.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Nor should you, my dear. No one should wish death before their time. Though death comes to us in the end, it must not be sought out in haste. Wait and fade gently, that’s my motto.” His expression softened. “Don’t listen to an old man, Susan, I’m foolish I suppose.”

“My friends call me Suzie.”

“Do they indeed? May I call you that?”

Suzie hesitated, but she needed every friend she could find. She nodded.

He laughed. “Well, Suzie, things aren’t that bad. Don’t believe the terrible stories. Being a Death is pleasant, and you may like your classes.” He rose and turned away.

“I have something I’d like to give you. Where is…? Ah, yes.” He opened a cupboard and started rummaging through drawers. “A sign of friendship that may come in handy.” He pulled out a small cake and placed it in a red pouch.

“This is food from the In-Between. More potent than the food they eat in the World of Deaths. The cake will bring you strength. Eat it sparingly, and only when your courage fails you. You’ll learn how they respond to a girl. My guess is it won’t be pretty. You will need to be strong.”

“Thank you, Athanasius,” she said, taking the pouch. It seemed to shrink when she touched it, and slipped easily into her pocket. Athanasius winked.

Cronk entered and held out his hand, beckoning Suzie to follow.

“Until we meet again,” said Athanasius.

“Thank you again,” she said, her voice stiff. “Goodbye.”

“You’re welcome, Suzie, and good luck.”

She glanced at the desk, where a massive pile of contracts sat in a heap. She wasn’t sure which one was hers. She wiped a tear away again, following Cronk out the door.

 

Chapter Three

The World of Deaths

 

“Hol-hold on,” said Cronk.

Suzie held on to his robe as he raised the massive scythe. He swung down and the world blurred. Colors, sounds, and smells assaulted Suzie at once. The ground was gone and even Cronk’s black robe seemed to fade in and out of focus. A moment later the ground appeared.

Night blanketed the World of Deaths. The ground was soft, and she stepped on fresh grass. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust. The air was moist but cool, and had a pleasant smell of strawberries. The rotten smells were gone. Above her, stars shone in a dazzling display, far clearer than she had ever noticed at home. Large trees stood some distance off: the edge of a forest. A cluster of fireflies buzzed like fairies near the trees.

“This is the World of the Dead?” she asked. Cronk nodded.

“Can’t be,” she continued. “This seems like home, even nicer than home, in fact. And it smells like strawberries.”

“This is the La-La-La-land of Deaths,” said Cronk. “A ni-ni-ni-nice place.”

“But where are the skulls and fires and stuff?”

“Wou-would you ra-rather have those?”

“No, of course not.”

“Come on,” said Cronk. He led her away from the forest and down a hill. They were on a path, leading away from a small stone on the spot where they had first appeared. The moon above shone bright, and though nighttime, she could see.

Cronk led her beside something shimmering. The reflection of the moon glistened on the water, probably a pond or small lake. Cronk held out a finger, pointing.

She leaned over and let out a gasp. A girl stared back at her: her reflection, yet, unlike the one she had seen at home for months. The girl staring back was fleshy but not plump. Her features were pretty. Her usually stringy black hair looked thick and smooth, hanging like silk around her lightly freckled cheeks. Her cheeks were full; the skin didn’t cling to her skull. Even her gray eyes seemed to shine. The skeletal girl she had come to expect in the mirror was gone.

“Is that me?”

“Yes, your tr-tr-tr-true self. This is your home now.”

She gazed again. She wasn’t her old self, she looked better than she ever had. She smiled, but glanced up. The smile faded as she remembered.

“I’m only here for a year. Then this nightmare will be over.”

Cronk shrugged. “Few p-p-pass the test. Too ha-ha-hard.”

“What’s on the test? What makes it hard?”

Cronk shook his head. He either didn’t know or wouldn’t tell her.

“You can’t tell me?”

Again, he shook his head. He motioned her to follow and they walked along the shore, climbing a rise, moving away from the water. They reached a flight of marble steps and Suzie followed. Small lights stood on either side of the steps. They lit up when Cronk walked near them, and turned off behind Suzie. She peered closer, bending down, and realized they were flowers. Each flower glowed brighter the closer she got; the lit ones shined like hot flame. Cronk coughed and she kept moving.

They climbed higher and higher. From the top of the steps, a vast plain opened, stretching beneath them. A path was lit with flowers, and many men in black robes walked beneath two enormous mountains. Or were they towers? The two pillars stretched for miles into the sky, like enormous stalagmites: great columns of twisted, gnarled rock pocked by thousands of tiny lights. They stood taller than any skyscraper Suzie had dreamt of, yet were far too narrow to be mountains. The pinnacles of the rocky towers were lit as well; two of the brighter stars she had seen earlier were actually those tips.

Between the well-lit towers stretched an elaborate maze of long, rocky mounds. A strange, fiery white light filled the area, with occasional darker squares amid the mounds. Around the entire complex, a ring of arches glowed. Cronk started walking down the hill, toward the arches.

“The C-C-C-College,” he said, gesturing with a hand.

“College?”

“The C-C-College of Deaths.”

Suzie didn’t ask more, but looked around in apprehension and wonder. She climbed down step after step, until they got to the plain. The air still smelled of strawberries: not a fake strawberry smell like when her mom made sandwiches with jelly, but the delicious smell of fresh-picked strawberries in spring. They were Suzie’s favorite fruit. Her mouth watered and her heart calmed.

Cronk led her down the lit path toward the glowing arches. As they approached, Suzie realized the arches were blades: pairs of oversized scythe blades, like Cronk’s. The steel on each blade glowed, and each pair formed an arch. The arches stretched over twenty feet high, but seemed tiny compared to the strange stony formations beyond, which in turn were dwarfed by the gargantuan towers. Cronk stopped before the arches.

“Only D-D-Deaths can p-p-pass,” he said. He walked under two of the glowing blades. Suzie wondered if they were sharp.

He raised a hand, beckoning her forward.

“But you said only Deaths can pass,” said Suzie.

He nodded and waved her forward again. She took a deep breath and walked through the arches. Nothing happened. Cronk smiled and continued walking.

Suzie wondered why Cronk had told her that. Was she actually a Death now? Was that what she had signed?

They continued into the complex, and she passed more men in black robes. Some were her father’s age, like Cronk, while others seemed ancient.

“Billy, get a load of that.” She turned and a group of robed boys, no older than herself, stared and pointed. Others looked as well, until every figure around them gawked at her.

“Keep wa-wa-walking,” said Cronk. Suzie turned her face down, but felt the cold stares of a hundred boys and men.

“It’s a girl,” somebody shouted. “I don’t believe it.”

Everyone seemed to talk at once. Suzie glanced up. The area was packed, and more men and boys were pouring in from every direction. They stood on their tiptoes to try and watch her.

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