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“You feel that?” I ask Nat.
“Yeah.” She looks around.
“Stay alert.”
Jacobi lands beside us atop the locomotive. As he shifts, he pulls out his phone, staring down at a map where a glowing red dot pulses on the screen.
“I think it’s in the woods,” he says and I follow his gaze to the tree line, a wall of solid black.
“Can you call it?” I ask.
Jacobi nods and soon a low ringtone sounds from somewhere ahead of us. We jump from the roof of the train, swallowed by the overgrowth. I draw my scythe, hating the way the ground moves beneath my feet. It’s wet and marsh-like, making it difficult to move forward. It will also make fighting anyone out here harder and more dangerous.
“Do you smell that?” Jacobi asks.
Natalie coughs. “It’s awful.”
The smell of decay gets stronger as we move forward, invading my nostrils and spilling down my throat. Ahead I notice a disturbance in the grass—tall tendrils lying flat, forced down with weight. The ringtone goes silent just as I break through the wall of blades to find a pile of animal corpses in various states of decay.
“What the…” Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I swallow it down. Jacobi kneels close to the corpses, examining them. There are a variety of species: squirrels and birds, cats and dogs, raccoons and opossums, basically any unlucky creatures that might live in the woods beyond or wandered onto the property. “No wounds,” he says.
There are too many corpses to assume these animals died naturally. No, their souls had been stolen.
“You think this is practice?” Natalie asks.
“I don’t know, but that seems like the only logical explanation,” I say.
“I don’t understand. If this is the work of a death-speaker, why would they leave the corpses out in the open? Why not bury their evidence?” Jacobi says.
“No one said we were dealing with a death-speaker.” I feel guilty for even thinking it, but I have to. What if this is the work of the Eurydice? Is this how she is gaining control of her powers? Practice?
“We should report this,” Natalie says at last.
“Uh, in case you forgot, we’re not supposed to be here,” I say.
“If you want me to take the fall for it, I will,” Jacobi says, and in return, Natalie and I glare at him.
“Don’t be a martyr, Jacobi,” I say evenly. “I’ll report it. We can’t risk more time added to your probation.”
“It’s not so bad, Shy,” Jacobi says with a small smile. “Besides, it’s a waste if you go on probation, too.”
“It’s just as much a waste to lose your talents,” I argue.
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he says. “Besides, you don’t have to lie. I’ve seen my file.”
I stop myself from asking how, realizing he’s hacked the Archive. “Jacobi. You shouldn’t have done that.”
He shrugs. “At least I know their plans. It’s easier to make my own now.”
“Jacobi...” Natalie starts.
Just then, a light ignites in the darkness beyond the trees, small, faint. Jacobi steps toward it when a scream breaks the night—high, shrill, full of fear. It comes from one of the warehouses a distance away.
Jacobi, Natalie, and I exchange a look.
Has our killer struck again?
“Go!” I command.
