“Something strange is going on.” Thegn runs his scythe through another pack of Umbrati. It’s actually pretty impressive how large this party is. Not just this particular group, but the whole contingent.

They do seem pretty intent on securing you. And have you noticed that their ability to fight has gotten better recently? You don’t think she’s controlling them, do you? Caffiel crawls across Thegn’s back from one shoulder to the next, presumably to get a better view.

“Oh, the girl is absolutely controlling them. Or trying to. She’s nowhere near Durga’s full strength. But I’m not talking about that.” Thegn extends his hand and his crow hops up into it. The old Reaper inspects the bird, checking its eyes and feathers before ultimately letting it flutter back down to the ground. “The last few conduits that I’d planned to take weren’t there.”

That’s not unexpected, though. You lose a small collection of birds every time you work at this scale.

Thegn shakes his head. “No. This is happening at a faster rate than usual.”

Caffiel peeks his head into Thegn’s view. I know it goes against your sense of order, but try one out of sequence.

It’s not a bad suggestion, though it grates on Thegn all the same for exactly the reason that Caffiel says. There’s an order to things. A way they ought to be done. To subvert that natural order is to subvert reality itself. The consequences for that run the full spectrum from mild to severe. But there are always consequences.

Also, Caffiel is still encroaching on Thegn’s vision. The rat’s expression is playful, but sincere. Thegn grinds his teeth. “Fine. If only to get that smug rodent version of a grin off your face.”

With his scythe, Thegn collects the crow. There’s no squawk or cry of surprise from the bird, merely silent acceptance that its job is complete as it dissolves in a cloud of ash and dust. Before the last speck drifts to the ground, Thegn relaxes his face and slides to the spiritual plane.

It’s a bleak place despite its intense brightness, a kind of purgatory brimming with a sea of lost souls that he didn’t collect. It’s not that it’s unpleasant. It’s just filled with a pervasive dullness, despite the forlorn undulations of the spirits here. They always have this hopeful insistence that there’s something he could do about their situation. There isn’t. There’s an order to things and this is the consequence of not adhering to that order.

Thegn wades through the radiant void, concentrating on finding the next conduit, the next echo of a crow. Caffiel tags along, his energy latched onto Thegn’s, just like sitting on his shoulder on the terrestrial plane. However, at least here, Thegn doesn’t have the rat’s voice in his head. At least here, it’s quiet.

“I know you’re tired, but you’re doin’ great, kiddo. Which one is next?”

The voice catches Thegn completely off guard. What fresh bullshit is this?

“Oh shit. Whichever you’re picking, do it now. I think your old friend with the beard and hood finally found you.”

The shadowy souls in the bright fog jitter with a bizarre mixture of excitement and disappointment as a pocket of energy spins toward one of Thegn’s conduits. It’s the same feeling as being unable to hold on to a squirming live fish. And just as quickly, the spiritual plane is quiet again. No sound. Just brilliant silence.

Thegn can feel Caffiel absolutely buzzing. You must be getting a real kick out of this.

The rat is going to be unbearably talkative when they get back to the terrestrial plane. Unfortunately, that’s exactly where Thegn has to go. He has to give chase. He has to break the sequence, his sequence. Thegn has to follow that pocket of energy—that person—through his conduit. The wrong conduit. What a bother.

Thegn peers through the conduit to see what awaits him. However, everything is a blur. It’s not the stable, controlled view of the scene that he’s used to. He’s going to have to slide blind. Annoyed, the Reaper uses the conduit and slides back to the terrestrial plane. The dazzling empty void is replaced with a world of brown and red, filled with noise.

Oh, this is more than I could’ve hoped for. How wonderful!

Not even a second in and you’re already talking. Thegn thinks the words, but his attention has already moved to the scene around him.

It’s absolute chaos.

He’s in an alley that perhaps normally serves as an open-air market. Trinkets, gear, and food line a string of covered tables. Or they would, if they weren’t flying through the air. A trio of Umbrati grunts are laying waste to the scene, flipping the tables or smashing through them as they chase something—no, someone who’s obviously trying to get away from them.

Almost without thinking about it, Thegn extends his scythe and slices through two of the Umbrati with a single pass. The third grunt, one of the hulkingly obese variations of the creatures, leans over a table, trying to attack the space behind it.

There he is.

Jack. That bartender kid. He clambers under the table and rolls between the grunt’s legs. Under one arm, he’s got one of Thegn’s crows, cawing and vainly trying to free itself. In Jack’s other hand, he holds a kukri-style blade, shining and blood-soaked. The kid is looking pretty rough, covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises. And although his eyes are active and alert, they’re darkened and deep-set. Tired. Jack glances over his shoulder at the grunt he just evaded, but gets distracted when he notices the remains of the two severed grunts, still crumbling to the ground in separate parts.

Caffiel paws at Thegn’s shoulder in anticipation of the moment.

Thegn sighs. Fine. Just this once.

He leaves his scythe extended so it’s just within Jack’s field of vision. It doesn’t take long for the kid to recognize it, tracing the length of the snath up Thegn’s arm and resting on his face.

Jack’s eyes widen as he realizes the predicament that he’s in. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!”

It’s almost enough to make Thegn smile. “It’s you. Clever boy.”

The flush of panic in Jack’s face is replaced with defiance. “Yeah. Me. You probably shoulda killed me when you had the chance.” Now it’s Jack’s turn to smile. “The second chance, actually.”

Thegn can feel his own expression darken. “It’s still early.”

The remaining Umbrati grunt isn’t waiting for them to finish their conversation. It’s recognized Thegn’s presence and is ambling toward him, reverting to its primary mission. It steps past Jack as if he’s not even there. These larger grunts may be more powerful, but they’re slower, clumsier. Thegn easily sidesteps the creature as it approaches.

Jack, realizing his fortune, flashes his smirk up at Thegn. “These portals of yours are a pain in the ass. How do you know what’s waiting for you on the other side?”

He’s following the conduits blindly? Thegn evades another charge from the bulky grunt.

It seems so. I was unsure about this youngster when we first met. But he has gotten more interesting the longer we let him live, hasn’t he?

Thegn casts a sideways scowl at Caffiel. The last thing he needs is the rat’s self-amused side commentary.

Jack’s smile dissolves in disappointment, like he’d actually expected Thegn to answer. He shrugs. “Fine. The system I’ve got seems to be working anyway.”

Using his knife, Jack dispatches the crow in his arms. It’s not a well-practiced stroke; in fact, it’s graceless and ham-fisted. All the same, though, the crow lets out a throaty caw and bleeds out. Jack probes Thegn’s face for any kind of reaction, but gets none.

“Damn. Was hoping that it would at least hurt you a little.”

Thegn says nothing, but keeps his attention on Jack while sidestepping another charge from the large grunt.

Jack takes Thegn’s minor moment of distraction as an opportunity to close his eyes and reach out, but there’s nothing in front of him. Thegn feels that same squirming fish feeling from earlier, and immediately the child’s composure completely changes. He drops the crow’s carcass and stares at Thegn as if seeing him for the first time.

“So you’re Death, huh? We’ve never met formally, but I’ve seen you around, strolling through the nuggets on the spiritual side of things.” The kid bows. “The name is Vardin.”

Thegn dodges as the fat grunt charges from behind him, allowing the grunt to continue toward the child.

The kid—or whoever this Vardin person is—recognizes the threat coming to him, but doesn’t shrink or flinch in the least. “Oh, this won’t do.” With more agility than Jack’s ever shown the possibility of having, the kid slips to the side of the grunt while keeping his leg extended. The grunt trips over the outstretched leg and falls forward, right into the waiting curved edge of Jack’s knife.

Vardin finishes the movement by withdrawing the knife, slicing it across the rest of the grunt’s throat. Shaking his head, he looks up at Thegn, smiling as if they were having a casual conversation in a park. “Spent the last ten years of my life cleaning up after that boy. Guess the work of raisin’ a kid is never done.”

Jack’s body starts to flicker. “Oh. Looks like that’s my cue. Now that we’ve met, I hope we’ll be able to talk again after all this calms down. In the meantime, my boy’s got a few more of these portals to take out.”

Vardin half waves, half salutes at Thegn and then completely disappears.

Thegn stands there, flat-footed, eyes fixed on the space where Jack’s body had been. The kid is gone. All that’s left are the corpses of Umbrati grunts and one of his crows, still bleeding out across the shattered tables and knickknacks in the alley.

Oh, I do so love surprises. At least we know why your conduits have been disappearing. It seems we have a race on our hands now.

Thegn grunts. “Fucking annoying. The kid doesn’t even know how much he’s fucking everything up.”

Caffiel adjust his position so Thegn can see his face. You knew this was coming. Your arrangement was never going to hold forever. This child is at least making things amusing, especially for a human. Can we keep him?

“Shut up, rat.”