Dire situations usually called for direr actions. Or a rapid response. But Riven, Viriya, and the Spectre couldn’t rush off to the orphanage as soon as they exited the post office. The Sept storm was starting to make itself known, tiny flakes of it falling down like glittering ash from a fabulously wealthy volcano. But it wasn’t the oncoming storm that had made them pause.

A cab drove up to the shop. It stopped right in front of them, and the Spectre cowered back.

“Now, now, don’t be frightened.” Rose stepped out of the car, holding an umbrella over her head to ward off the Sept. “I’m not here to take you away, or do some other nefarious deed, Miss Spectre.”

“It’s Missus.”

Rose blinked at Riven and Viriya . “I see why you haven’t killed this one yet. Very entertaining.” She closed the car’s door behind her. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“You tell me what you’re doing here,” Riven said.

Rose stepped under the eaves of the post office. Now that she was under the shade of the office’s gables, she put away her black umbrella, and stood straighter. “I got bored with nothing to do. Father said you had a Deathless assignment here, and so I rushed in as fast as I could. Now lay out the details, you two. I’m assuming by the state I found you in, whatever’s going on is quite urgent.”

Riven crossed his arms. The Septstorm was going to get worse any time now, and they didn’t have time to waste on is sister’s flights of fancy. “You’re not supposed to be here, Rose. You were supposed to rest. Remember our deal.”

“Must I remind you that I outrank you, subordinate?”

“It’s urgent,” Viriya said before Riven could argue further. He scowled and stared up at the clouds, which were beginning to break apart. “This Spectre’s child is about to become a Deathless and we need to stop it as soon as we can.”

Rose took the information in stride far too quickly. “When?”

They all looked at the Spectre, who stood straight all of a sudden as though slouching under their attention was a grave offence. “Soon. Tonight, in fact, if we’re going by the last letter.” She turned to Rose, and stepped forward, clasping her hands before her. “Please ma’am, he’s only a little boy. He has so much life left in him. All I want is for him not to become something like me.”

“Then it looks like we don’t have time to wait.” Rose gave a small whistle, and the idling car’s engine restarted with a whir. “Get in. I’ll take us where it’s supposed to happen.”

The Spectre was the first to get in. Viriya followed in through the other side, then Riven, before Rose closed the door and took the seat beside the chauffeur at the front.

“What’s going on?” The chauffeur had twisted around his seat to stare back at the Spectre sitting in the middle. His eyes were so wide, they’d pop out any moment. Maybe he kept springs within his sockets to reel them back in. “Why is there a Deathless in my car? Get it out. Get it out!”

“Stop freaking out and get going,” Rose ordered. “We’re here, aren’t we. Besides, you can see our guest is very well-mannered. Unlike someone.”

The chauffeur was too frightened to register the jibe, it seemed. “I can’t drive with that thing around. Ma’am, my car is my whole livelihood. If it gets damaged, or Scions forbid, destroyed how am I going to feed my family?”

A vein throbbed on Rose’s head. “You’re being a simpleton, chauffeur. I hired you to drive fast, and you’ll be doing just that. If your car was about to be destroyed, you’d be sitting in a pile of molten metal by now.”

“Everything will be fine,” Riven assured, trying for a smile. He wouldn’t have stepped in, but it looked as though Rose was about to throw the chauffeur out and drive herself, which would have been great if they had time to waste. In her condition, she’d end up crashing the car. They didn’t have time for that. “Please, trust us. We’re here to keep everything under control, and besides, this woman here is out looking for her family too. Aren’t you?”

“Er, yes, of course,” the Spectre said, nodding vigorously to affirm the point.

The chauffeur didn’t look convinced at all, but he turned forward all the same. Maybe he saw that the argument was unwinnable. He shifted the knob in the middle of the vehicle, pushed a button on the dashboard, then thumped his foot down on the pedal hard. The car jerked off faster than Riven had thought possible, and he was thrown back into his seat, hands gripping the armrests tight for support.

Thank the Scions it was spacious enough withing the car. The rapid turns and breakneck speed ensured that he kept jostling against the Spectre, but there was room enough so that he wasn’t squished beside her. It was too awkward already to be brushing up against a Deathless. Wouldn’t do to be thrust up right against her in these cramped quarters too. Who knew what happened when one was so close to a Deathless in such proximity.

At least they hadn’t had to waste precious time trying to look for a ride, which wouldn’t have been impossible to begin with, now that Riven thought on it. No driver would be active out in an impending Septstorm. For most, it would be their last ride. Sept would start falling like little meteors, carrying enough force to dent and tear through a car’s chassis.

“Where’s the orphanage?” Rose asked.

“It’s Little Lore House, down on Barnam Way,” the Spectre answered.

“Oh, that one. Damn, not a nice place.”

“I know.”

“What’s your name, by the way?” They passed over a stretch of bumpy ground, and the rattling car made Rose’s words come out like the staccato beat of a gatling gun. “I don’t want to keep calling you a Spectre.”

“I’m Arrilme, and my son’s name is Franry.”

“Arrilme…” Rose smiled back at the Spectre, one hand holding onto a loop overhead as the car rattled over rough ground again. “That’s a pretty name. We’ll get your son, don’t worry.”

Riven caught the driver staring at the Spectre through the rear-view mirror a few more times. The whites of his eyes were too obvious against his dark pupils. He was still scared, even after they had all assured him that the Spectre was fine. And even if she wasn’t, he ought to rest assured there were three Essentiers who would take care of things if any trouble cropped up. Albeit two of those Essentiers didn’t look very inspiring or confidence-inducing. But still. Besides, it was insulting to think Arrilme would go insane and start attacking everyone.

After several turns that threatened to upend the whole car, and a long stretch of road that was empty as a desert at noon, they finally arrived at the orphanage. The wheels crackled the bits and pieces of Sept carpeting the driveway, underlining the fact the Septstorm was rally coming. Riven stared around, heart sinking.

The institution made it obvious why Franry wanted out. It was a small grey stone mansion, the walls wreathed with dead and brittle vines, the small windows all shuttered and closed, the whole place lacking any lamps despite the darkness that the storm had thrown up. It was little better than a tomb, a prison that promised any who entered would be serving nothing but life sentences. Rather short life sentences.

“This used to be the home of an old oil merchant,” Arrilme said as the car came to a stop. “The Housemother was a distant relative who inherited it after the merchant died. She decided turning the place into an orphanage was a good idea in her dotage, but really, she doesn’t have the first clue on how to run this place. And she’s horrible with children too. Scions spare any child who has to come here.”

No one came to greet them as they made their way to the doors. Rose had bidden the chauffeur wait with the Spectre in the car, leading Riven and Viriya to the dreary front doors.

Arrilme had wanted to come with them, egged on by the enthusiastic chauffeur. They were finding her son after all. Riven would have agreed, but Rose’s reasoning was airtight. She had already freaked out one man. Inciting panic in an entire orphanage would only make things harder for everyone, including herself and her son.

“Well, I don’t feel very welcome here,” Rose said.

“Maybe they only keep the mean children here,” Riven offered as a possible explanation.

“If that’s true, Glaven would have loved this place.”

They shared a quick little laugh. Glaven used to get in far too many fights as a boy, first with the other children in his school, and later picking fights with their family’s security personnel. Though the latter had usually been disguised as training.

The laughter didn’t last long though, the image of Glaven lying unconscious on his bed suffocating the sound. A horrible thought, but Riven’s brother would fit here even more given his current condition.

Viriya hadn’t joined in.

Rose had to hammer the door with her fist a dozen times before someone decided to let them in. The door opened to reveal a man in a black frock coat, a locket with a seven-pointed star dangling from his neck.

“Who are you?” he asked, then noted their uniforms. “Essentiers! What business do you have here?”

Despite recognising them as Essentiers, the man made no move to get out of their path. He frowned at them, brows even more severe than the sparse grey hair on his head and the tiny ruts of age creasing all over his face. His eyes were tiny and dark, beady like a rat’s.

“We are Essentiers, as you so clearly recognized.” Rose placed one hand on the door, though she didn’t push. She shouldn’t have to. The threat alone should have sent the man stumbling back, but he remained steady. “Will you kindly allow us to enter?”

“We are not in the business of entertaining guests. State your business.”

“What if all we sought was shelter from the Septstorm?”

“Then I would bid you enter and wait within. But you aren’t here for that reason.”

Riven’s brows had copied the man’s, clouding together into a frown. It wasn’t a question. Unpleasant he might be, but the man was still sharp. The worst combination.

“We are here to find a child that we need to investigate as soon as possible.” A bit of steel crept into Rose’s voice. “This is official business to investigate Deathless activity. Any barring will be considered obstruction of official Demesne business, and we all know how Father gets when his business is thwarted.”

“Father?” The man peered at Rose for a moment, then gasped. “You’re one of the Morells!”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Lham! Who’s there?”

The man retreated back so fast, it was as though he’d been pulled back. Rose brows clouded with confusion, but she pushed and the door opened. They stepped in. An old woman was striding towards them, wearing a faded-brown dress, round spectacles perched on her strong, aquiline noise.

Riven glanced back. The man had retreated so far, the door nearly hid all of him. He wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, staring upwards as though everyone no longer existed and the cracks on the ceiling drew a secret treasure map that led to great wealth. So odd. No, this place couldn’t have been good for any child, much less Franry.

“Who are you?” the old woman demanded, walking right up to Rose.

“I am Rosiene Morell,” Rose said. “These are my… colleagues, Viriya Rorink and Riven Morell. We are Essentiers here on official business. You must be the Housemother here?”

“I am Housemother Hollimer, yes. Official business you said?” The old woman had finally stopped in her tracks, bare inches away from Rose. “Not Deathless, I hope?”

Rose gave her an apologetic look. Momentary, for it was replaced by her steely look of business. “I’m afraid so.”

Housemother Hollimer seemed to falter for a moment. She clasped her hands together and looked away, fear making the grooves of age lining her face stand out as though that was all her face was. Lines and wrinkles.

“Please, mistress.” The other man, Lham, hurried over with his hands raised placatingly. “I’m sure there is nothing to fear. We haven’t heard the Essentiers speak yet, after all.”

“Ah yes, you are right, Custodian.” The woman tried for a smile, but it came out weak and troubled. “Where are my manners? Please come to my office. We can discuss over tea.”

Rose’s answering smile was strong enough for the both of them. “Thank you for the offer, I fear we don’t have time for tea. We will need to discuss our business and be off immediately.”

“Oh my. Please. Are the children in any immediate danger?”

Rose hesitated, face taking on a mask of consideration, and Viriya stepped into the gap.

“I think this discussion will be better off in some place private,” she said. “Where is your office, ma’am?”

The Housemother’s eyes widened, the whites going past the boundary of her glasses. “Ah, of course. Come, this this way.”

As they followed the Housemother, Riven’s attention was drawn everywhere but the way forward. It became apparent why Viriya had wanted to move. The children. Visitors were clearly a foreign concept here. The little boys and girls peeked out from everywhere, peeping from behind walls, pretending not to notice while sitting on dirty chairs, turning away as soon as Riven caught any of them looking and turning back when they thought his glance had shifted.

He couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t like there was anything else to occupy their attention. Light was muted, and there were no books to be seen anywhere, nor were there any sign of other ways to pass time. No musical instruments anywhere, no tennis rackets or bouncing balls, not even any toys for the tiny ones. Conversation was muttered at best, and absolutely silent when he came close enough to make the words out. It didn’t seem like these walls had ever been graced with the melody of laughter. And they called it an orphanage? Ridiculous. Mausoleums were livelier and in better shape than whatever this pretended to be.

So many children. Could one of them be Arrilme’s son? Could they have passed Franry somewhere behind? Damn it, they should have taken a description from the Spectre.

The Housemother’s office was barely big enough to hold her desk and two chairs, one for the woman to sit in and one for any who were unfortunate enough to end up here. Rose didn’t take a seat as the Housemother eased herself into hers with a sigh. Instead, she went back and closed the door right in the Custodian’s face.

“We don’t have must time to discuss,” Rose said, getting right down to business. “We require you to tell us where a boy named Franry is.”

“May I ask what you seek to do with this boy?” the Housekeeper asked back.

“As I said, no time to discuss. Where is he?”

“I cannot simply reveal his location to you. He’s under my care, and I must ensure his wellbeing.”

“Trust me, his wellbeing is our main priority too.” Rose took a step forward, one step that threatened more than her words ever could. “Now, where is he?”

The Housemother still appeared combative, glaring at Rose. Her jaws were slowly grinding against each other, as though she was chewing her words and shaping them into projectiles before spitting them out. This was one stubborn woman. Riven pitied any child who was brought before her for any misdemeanours.

“He’s related to the Deathless,” Riven said.

The others turned to him, stifling their shock at his brazen revelation, but he didn’t care. It got the requisite response from the Housemother. She had gone rod-straight on her chair, jaws locked against each other, eyes staring straight at the door. Eventually, her mouth opened. Surprising, there wasn’t any noise like rusty hinges to accompany it.

“Custodian Lham,” she called out.

The man opened the door before the sound of the Housemother’s words had properly registered in Riven’s head. “Yes, Housemother?”

“Take these Essentiers to Franry in the eastern wing. Room forty-eight.” The Housemother looked at Rose. She looked much like she was restraining an overwhelming weariness from breaking out in an unstoppable landslide of emotion. “I will request that you not harm the boy, and that you explain this Deathless business before you leave.”

Rose nodded. “I promise, Housemother.”

They followed Lham out. The Custodian seemed to be hesitating, or perhaps he was frightened, but Rose barked the Housemother’s orders at him a few times and he kept going. Riven tried not to scowl as he watched the Custodian’s shoulders waving as he walked, the star of his locket pulled near his mouth as he kept muttering away a string of prayers. He had been listening in from the outside, desperate to hear their conversation when he had no say in it.

And it wasn’t just nosiness. There was something very off about Lham. Riven might have thought he was being unnecessarily suspicious, but Viriya was glaring at the man’s back too. He tried to catch her eye, but she ignored him, silent observer that she was.

Despite the Custodian’s hemming and hawing, it didn’t take long for them to reach Room Forty-Eight in the eastern wing. There were still too many children everywhere, as though the whole orphanage had turned up to watch their procession, but it was easier to ignore this time. Maybe Riven was getting used to it. Wasn’t a nice thought.

Lham didn’t knock on the door to Room Forty-Eight. He barged in, and the one lone boy in the room jumped up from the bed as though he had suffered an electric shock. The Custodian looked around, apparently not finding what he sought.

Franry wasn’t here.

“Boy,” Lham barked at the other child. “Where’s Franry?”

The boy’s eyes were huge and round as he surveyed Riven and the others. “He went to the lake.”

“Lake?” Rose asked. “Did he say why?”

“Nuh-uh. He was saying something about Deathless or something like that, but I didn’t catch it. He hasn’t been playing nice for a while now, and not nice people get the silent treatment.”

Riven swallowed as the boy peered straight at him, huge eyes like those mystic orbs that twisted the reflection and gave up contorted visions. Silent treatment was it? Ignored, neglected, forgotten. That was more like it. It seemed as though all the children here were being given silent treatment in its various shades.

“You know what lake he’s talking about?” Rose asked the Custodian.

Lham nodded. “I will take you there.”

“Hurry! We might not have much time.”

“What is going on with him, Essentier?”

“I said, we need to hurry.”

Properly chastised, Lham rushed away. They followed quickly on his heels. Riven lingered on the little boy in the room, on those dark crystal ball eyes, then turned away. If he stared too long, no doubt he would have nightmares soon enough.

Lham led them down several corridors, past more staring children, all the way to a little side door that opened out to an untamed wilderness. A rough path led away to a clump of deep blue Coral trees and brambles made of thorngrass looped over each other. Riven couldn’t see beyond it. All for the better. There couldn’t have been anything behind it, just more emptiness like the Frontier had been.

“Is that him?” Rose asked, pointing to a small figure in the distance near the shore of the lake.

Sept was falling harder now, clinging to Riven’s hair, tapping on his jacket, poking at the exposed skin on his hands and face. He looked up and quickly looked back forward before the Sept could land right in his eyes. Wouldn’t that have been a mess? But he had caught a glimpse of the dark clouds, and all signs pointed to a rather bad Septstorm.

“Hey!” Rose shouted, breaking into a run as they neared the figure. Wasn’t she supposed to be injured? “Stop what you’re doing. It’s dangerous!”

Riven ran behind her too. Probably not nice of him to leave limping Viriya behind, but the sight of the figure and what he was doing made him forget about all that. It was a boy—had to be Franry—and he was eating Sept. “Hey!” he added his voice to Rose’s. “Stop!”

Franry didn’t listen. There was an enormous pile of Sept at his feet, and he was shovelling in mouthful after mouthful, oblivious to the rest of the world.

“Hey!” Riven was screaming outright now, visions of Darley floating in his head. “I—”

Rose jerked to a sudden halt, and Riven collided with her raised hand, nearly falling to the ground.

“What in the—what are you doing?” he growled.

She nodded her head up ahead. “Look.”

“What? I don’t see—oh shit!”

Franry was trembling. His skin rippled everywhere, and his shirt was stretched as though he had suddenly become quite beefy. The Sept around him was glowing, bright as white-hot metal on the verge of melting.

“Damn the Chasm,” Rose muttered. “We’re too late.”

“What? No.” Riven grabbed his sister’s arm, giving it a good shake. “It can’t be too late. We can stop this, right? We have to!”

“No. There’s no way, not once it’s started. The Sept he ate must have assimilated with his body, and—”

Riven didn’t wait for her explanation. There was a little boy to save, and whys and hows could wait later. He didn’t get more than a step in, however. Rose’s arm shout out and grabbed him by the elbow.

“Listen to me, you idiot,” she hissed. “There’s nothing we can do about it anymore!”

No. It couldn’t be. Riven tried to free his arm and get to the boy, but Rose’s grip was iron. They’d be too late like this. He couldn’t allow another family to be ruined because of the Deathless, couldn’t have another child to be stolen from their life like Darley. He couldn’t—

Franry screamed. His howl was ear-piercing and earth-shattering, sending ripples on the lake that overtook those created by the falling Sept. Riven tore his hand from Rose’s grip, easy now that she had clamped her hands over her ears, and he did the same. The boy kept howling his lungs out. Riven wanted to look around, for surely someone would be coming soon to check on the noise. But the boy’s transformation had locked his gaze. He couldn’t look away, not when he was so late.

Franry turned into a demon right before their very eyes. The rippling skin cracked and flaked off in several places, revealing dark green scales that seemed to be fluttering. His eyes had begun to glow a brilliant blue, whites giving way to utter black shot with red veins. And those screams went on and on. Unceasing, unrelenting, tearing through the jagged world as though it was forcing him to remain here. Which it was in a way.

“A demon!” The Custodian’s shrike somehow cut through the boy’s screams. “He’s a demon.” He stared at them. “What in the Chasm are you waiting for? Kill that Deathless!”

Riven’s spine went cold as a pole left outside in winter. “He’s just a boy.”

“He’s a demon. Are you blind? Kill that Deathless before it destroys everything here.”

It. So they had devolved that far already. The boy had become an it. Riven whirled around. “You think you can just—hey!”

Rose had charged forward, pulling her gun out as she ran towards Franry. She was still injured though. Even after the few precious seconds Riven wasted behind his surprise, it wasn’t difficult to catch up to Rose. He kicked her shins from behind, and she fell with a curse, their legs tangling together so that Riven fell on top of her. She grunted in pain as his weight struck her back. Served the idiot right.

“What in the Chasm are you doing?” Rose shouted.

“Stopping you from killing him,” Riven shouted back. “He’s only a boy. We can’t just kill him like that.”

“I wasn’t going to, you moron.”

Riven froze. “You had your gun out!”

The boy’s next scream put a halt to their impromptu argument. Franry was becoming a full-fledged demon, his hair solidifying into a cap of spikes on his head.

“You incompetent idiots.”

Lham rushed forward, frock coat swaying like a mad horse’ s tail. Viriya shouted at him to stay back, and Rose struggled as though she wanted to tackle him to the ground, but the Custodian charged past too fast for them to properly react. He reached Franry the boy, but met Franry the demon. And Franry the demon was pissed.

He swung his arm like a club, jagged spikes and hooked horns dotting all over his forearm, and it struck the Custodian’s leg, sending him tumbling backwards with an awful shriek of his own. Lham dragged himself backwards over the ground, panting heavily and staring at the little Fiend.

“You monster,” he shouted. “How dare you strike me! The Scions will see this, will know this, and will mete out due punishment.”

Franry only screamed louder.

Rose pushed off Riven and started forwards, but the demon had caught wind of them. He stared them all down, shot out another scream, then ran.

“Hey!” Rose tried to go after Franry, but he was too fast, scampering over the ground until he was lost behind the high scrub of thorngrass and the clump of Coral trees. “Come back. We won’t hurt you.”

Too late. Her little half-admission, half-plea came far too late. Franry was gone. The demon had escaped. Arrilme and her son were even farther apart than before, for it was obvious the boy had run off into the wilderness.

Riven had once again failed.

What in the world were they going to tell Arrilme? That her son was lost in the same way she was? That it wasn’t even capricious chance that had turned him into a Fiend, but their own incompetence? Words couldn’t justify the feeling. Could never justify it.

“Since you all are worthless, I will find others to take care of this mess,” Lham spat. He hobbled away, leaving a trail of blood along the ground.

They watched him go, no one bothering to offer any help. He wasn’t one to accept any. Besides, Riven liked the limping version of the Custodian much better than the regular one.

Rose glowered down at Riven for a moment, before sighing. “Come on, we need to fix and explain this mess.”

She walked away, making sure to evade the crimson glistening despite the lack of light, now dotted with starry fragments of Sept. Riven followed, and glanced behind him when Viriya didn’t move. She was staring at the brush, boring a hole into the thorngrass and Coral trees as if to pull Franry back with the force of her glare.

Then Viriya caught him looking, took on an expressionless mask, and walked away.