Exclusive Excerpt from Repeat Offence

by Jackie Keswick

The First Life

Fallen

I woke to darkness and silence, face down on a surface that was neither hot nor cold, neither hard nor soft. It was smooth, and flat, and yielded by a small amount as I planted my hands and pushed myself carefully upright.

My knees and back protested when I shifted, as if I’d lain motionless for far too long. I moved my head from side to side, arched and straightened my spine to loosen tight muscles. Then, kneeling in the dark, I swept my outstretched arms up and to the sides, trying to find edges, objects… anything that could tell me where I was. My questing hands passed through empty air, unimpeded except for an unfamiliar weight that dragged on my shoulders.

I ran my hands up my thighs, across my hips and chest. My skin felt cool and dry under my palms, and when I reached to touch my back, I encountered a row of long, silky feathers starting beside my spine and extending in an arching sweep beyond the reach of my fingertips.

I was naked.

In the dark.

With wings on my back.

None of it made sense.

When I’d woken after my battlefield death, I’d been clothed—in unfamiliar garb, admittedly—but I hadn’t been naked. Now those clothes were gone along with everything else I remembered.

Where was the hall where we’d woken?

Where was the Judge?

Most importantly, where was Hiro?

And why, of all things, did I have wings?

“Hiro?” I called for him, louder with each repetition until I screamed his name, but the darkness had no echo. It had no answers, either. I could have been the only one alive, and there would have been no way for me to know.

I pushed to my feet and took step after step with my arms stretched in front of me, moving slow and unsteady like a blind man. The wings dragged along the floor with a soft rustle, no use in the lightless space. My prison appeared without bounds. Whichever direction I moved in, I found neither walls nor doors.

If this was to be our punishment…

You will spend your lives on opposite sides of the veil, taking turns living and watching.

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