I am no one’s prey.
My hand itched to cast an attack spell right now. After all, my Sisters could be hidden somewhere nearby. A scheme formed in my mind.
Kill Kamilla.
Invade the gallery.
Investigate.
With any luck, free Ada and the others.
I forced in a deep breath. Mother Superior would say that was my impulsive zuchtlos-side talking. Allowing my emotions to do my thinking for me wasn’t an option today. A plan was already in motion, and it was to tour the gallery with Kamilla. If I found any sign of Ada or the others, then I’d consider matters from there.
I still have until tomorrow night.
Leaning on my Necromancer training, I slowly approached Kamilla, my face a mask of calm. “The Marchioness says you’re to give me a tour of the gallery.”
“Try to keep up.” Kamilla took off through the mansion’s warren of golden passageways. I stayed close behind her. All the rooms looked the same—yellow walls, wooden furniture, and grisly hunting tapestries. From time to time, we’d pass a servant in golden livery. They always paused, shot me a pitying look, and hurried on.
Clearly, I wasn’t the first to get a gallery tour from Kamilla. The guard’s words about strangers made perfect sense now.
Soon Kamilla and I exited the mansion through a side door. A hillock opened up before us, all the grass gleaming emerald-bright in the afternoon sunshine. Kamilla pointed toward the horizon. A long and rectangular building stood atop a nearby hill. The gallery. Every inch seemed plated gold, so it hurt to stare at the place in direct sunlight.
I supposed that was the point.
Kamilla followed a thin footpath over the grass, leading me to one of the gallery’s side doors. She pulled it open slowly. “After you, Fleur.”
“Thank you.”
I stepped inside. The galleries were a series of small rooms made of gleaming wood. Tall windows cast long beams of light across the floor. It wasn’t much of a gallery, to be honest. Only a few pictures of the Havilland forebears covered the walls. Mostly, these depicted elder nobles who were withered and slumped.
This gallery was the pride of the Havilland family. It was supposed to be overflowing with portraits. Why had they cleaned out most of the paintings? The answer appeared in a flash.
Perhaps so Kamilla wouldn’t coat them with blood.
With careful steps, I moved through the rooms, scanning for anything that might be unusual. Beyond the lack of actual paintings, nothing here seemed amiss. Kamilla followed close behind me. She hadn’t done anything threatening yet, which I took as an encouraging sign. I decided to see if I could gather any useful information from her. Twisting my head from side to side, I made a great show of scanning the walls. “There are no pictures of the Vicomte here.”
Kamilla took the bait. “The Marchioness is a fool. She doesn’t want to show all her precious paintings here? Fine. But the Vicomte deserves a place of honor on these walls.”
Clearly, Kamilla hadn’t met the Vicomte. I doubt the man had done anything honorable in his entire life. Still, I was curious why she thought him worthy of admiration. “So true. Personally, I’ve been so impressed with his… What’s the word?”
“Dedication. He has sworn to bring back the true Necromancer ways.”
I bit back a smile. Kamilla was a zealot for Necromancer tradition. Excellent. I could work with this. “You’re a Fantome. Can’t you force the Marchioness to add his portrait?”
“The Vicomte has sworn to send me his portrait. Once it arrives, it shall become the centerpiece of this gallery.” She turned to me. “You show interest in Necromancy then?”
“I admire it. Doesn’t everyone?”
Kamilla eyed me from head to toe. It was as if she was seeing me for the first time. “I have a number of important duties for the Vicomte. One is to gather up those with Necromancer ability. My master wishes to bring them into his inner circle.”
Sure, he does. So he can drain their powers and become a Necromancer himself.
I pushed that thought down and forced my mouth to fall open. “Is that true? How fascinating.”
Kamilla stepped closer. “If you have Necromancer power, then I can take you to be trained.”
Or more accurately, drained.
Still, my heart skipped a beat. This was the chance I’d been looking for. Kamilla may be ready to tell me about the other Necromancers. “That might be interesting, only…”
Kamilla’s voice dripped with false kindness. “Only, what?”
“Would I have to go far? I mean, to be with the other Necromancers?” My palms turned slick with sweat. Would she say that the training area was here, in this gallery?
Kamilla stalked nearer. If I reached out, I could take her hand. “So you do have some power.” Her eyes glittered. “The Tsar left us. He was weak. But the Vicomte remains and grows stronger. If you have any magick at all, you should tell me now. It’s your duty as a citizen of the realm.” Her voice lowered. “I have spells I can cast to find out, you know. It won’t be pleasant.”
I’d played the untrained Necromancer once before. I’d ended up imprisoned in the Midnight Cloister and almost killed. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. “No, I’m afraid I don’t have any ability with magick.”
All the light drained from Kamilla’s eyes. “I feared as much. You’re a Royal, through and through.”
“Although, I would be honored to serve the Vicomte in other ways. Where are the other Necromancers being trained? Perhaps I can help.” I clasped my hands together in supplication. “I truly wish to be of service to such a great man.”
Kamilla pursed her thin lips. I held my breath. Was she really going to tell me where Ada was? “Perhaps.”
“I’ll do anything. Really.” I was pleading. I didn’t care.
“I shall ask the Vicomte. He may find something for you to do. If I took you to the others…” She tapped her chin again, thinking. “The ceremonial play for Theodora is a possibility.”
Excitement sparked in my chest. This was my first real clue to Ada’s whereabouts. Ceremonial play. Theodora. That sounded like a Royal event. “Where is this play?” Kamilla didn’t answer. “What’s wrong?”
Then I saw it. A shape moved under Kamilla’s skin, right at her neckline. Every corner of my soul went on alert. I’d seen this before. It was a bone crawler. All the Tsar’s servants had one of these creatures implanted under their flesh. I’d seen the process myself at the Midnight Cloister when my Sisters received their bone crawlers.
Kamilla lifted her hand to her neck. “Did you command this?”
I took a half step backward. “I didn’t do anything.”
Rage tightened her features. “Don’t play the innocent with me. My bone crawler responded to you. I felt it. The insect only shifts on my command or the Tsar’s.” Kamilla stepped around me slowly. Her voice dripped with menace. “Some Fantomes have been testing new spells with their bone crawlers.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but if a Fantome was powerful enough, they could force their own bone crawler to do a few things. It wouldn’t be wielding hybrid magick so much as manipulating a part of their body. Yet why would a Fantome do such a thing? Was there unrest about following the Tsar?
“I won’t defile the old ways with such sacrilege.” Kamilla’s voice turned shrill. “Are you in league with them? Have you come here to spy on me?”
“I’m not allied with any Fantomes, I swear.” My fingers itched to pull in magick. However doing so would expose me as the Necromancer I was. Just a few seconds ago, I had Kamilla convinced I was a Royal without magick. Maybe I could still make this work. “I’m a loyal subject to the realm. That’s all.”
Kamilla stopped her pacing. Her features softened with a new kind of calm. The sight was more alarming than her previous rage. “Hold now. I heard tell of a Caster girl. She was the one who sent the Tsar into exile. Whenever a bone crawler got near her, the insect would shift. And when she t
ouched it, there was a flare of purple light.”
Gods-damn it. That was me, all right.
I slapped on a look of Royal indignation. “You’re insane. How could someone with no magick command the bone crawler inside you?”
Kamilla raised her left fist again. Her totem rings gleamed in the lantern light. “Guards!” One of her bands flashed with blue light. Smoke filled the room as two massive skeletons appeared, both wearing battle armor.
They headed straight for me.
I reached out with my mage senses, desperate to pull Necromancer power into my soul. The air was heavy with magick, but also with warding spells. I could sense the energy I needed. It hung in the air all around me. Sadly, the warding spells prevented me from pulling it in. I pressed against the energy block. Perhaps it was something I could break through.
Perhaps.
And even if I failed, it would still hurt like blazes. That was the least of my problems.
The skeletons grasped me from both sides, holding me firmly in place. I fought against their grip. The most I could do was rustle my dress.
Kamilla grinned. “Oh, you’re a clever liar. I felt you just now. You were trying to pull in Necromancer magick.” She eyed my gown. “Here you are, hiding as a fancy girl. All this time, we’ve been searching every filthy corner of the realm. I must admit, no one thought a Royal would take you in.” She shook her head. “This won’t end well for your friend.”
“Leave Amelia out of this.”
“You’re in no position to demand anything!” Little bits of spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke. “I won’t allow you to exile the Vicomte like you did the Tsar. I’ll destroy you, right now and slowly. Then, just before you breathe your last, I’ll make you watch the death of your friend.”
My heart pounded so hard the whoosh in my ears became deafening. “I’m a Necromancer, yes. But I want the old ways returned, the same as you do. Whatever the Vicomte told you, it isn’t true. If he gathers Necromancer magick into himself, then it will be for his glory alone. Not ours.”
“More lies. And liars deserve pain.” She raised her fist again.
Here comes another spell from her totem rings.
I couldn’t give her another chance to cast. What happened next took only seconds, yet it felt as if time moved extra slowly. Closing my eyes, I reached out with my mage senses. A web of warding spells surrounded me. The tiny cords of energy worked together to create a magickal wall that blocked me from pulling in power.
That wall had to come down.
Every muscle in my body braced. Pain was coming.
Using all my focus, I punched through the warding spells and reached for the energy beyond. Agony shot through my body as if every bone I had was shattered. Still, I gritted my teeth and pulled Necromancer energy in to me. Magick careened through my limbs, making my veins feel like they were on fire. I held in a scream as more energy poured into me.
Once I held enough power, I expelled my Necromancer magick into the delicate strands of Kamilla’s warding spell. The thin cords began to glow so brightly even Kamilla could see them. She froze in place.
That was when I made her warding spell implode.
A crash sounded, reminding me of glass breaking. The magickal web of blue light burst into pieces. The wards shattered. Thin strands of brilliance cascaded to the floor like dried leaves. The two skeletons that Kamilla created fell backward as well. Breaking the wards had severed their ties to Kamilla as well.
With the wards gone, the worst of the pain drained from my body. I swung around to face the skeletons and began drawing in more Necromancer energy. These warriors needed to answer to me.
Kamilla had the same notion. Unfortunately, she’d had time to summon additional power while I’d been breaking apart the wards. Now, she released her magick onto the skeletons. Blue mist surrounded the bony creatures. Within seconds, they hopped back up to standing. Turning in unison, they rushed toward me.
I quickly thought through my options. Since breaking the wards, I’d pulled in a little more energy. Not enough to command the skeletons.
But there were other ways to defeat them.
Raising my arm, I sent a fresh wave of magick out from my left hand. A blue haze filled the air around the skeletons. The mist solidified into a hailstorm of tiny teeth, each one sharp as a razor. The miniature bones sliced through the skeletons, shredding them into a pile of white shards.
I allowed myself a small smile. It was a good bit of spell casting. There was no time to gloat, though. Kamilla was still able to fight. I needed to draw in more energy for the next round of our battle. I pulled fresh power into me, but it came through as a thin trickle. The problem was obvious. After breaking the wards, my body felt as shredded at the defeated skeletons. Even as I summoned in more power, I knew I wasn’t fast enough.
Kamilla raised her fist. The totem rings gleamed on her fingers. “Bone needles.”
By the Sire. Not bone needles.
Another blue mist formed on the gallery floor. It twisted into a small vortex that pulled up all the bits of broken skeleton. My heart sank. As much as it hurt to break through a magick ward, bone needles would be far worse.
The haze settled into the floor. I made to run, yet my legs wouldn’t go fast enough. Long needles of bone shot out from the floorboards, forming a makeshift cone around me. I felt every sharp tip as it pierced the top layer of my skin. I froze in place. Any more movements would only cause me pain.
Kamilla stalked up to me. A satisfied smile rounded her mouth. “Whatever shall I do now?” She tapped her chin. “I could skewer you through the brain which would mean a fast death. And where’s the justice in that? You deserve to suffer for your crimes.” She snapped her fingers, and a long needle of bone pierced through my thigh.
I kept my features calm. Whatever happens, don’t show any pain. “Isn’t it the Vicomte’s right to choose how I die? Surely, he would want me brought to him.”
“I’m a Grand Mistress. I keep my own counsel on how best to protect my master. Until he has enough Necromancer power, I’m going to keep him from the likes of you.” She snapped her fingers again, and another sliver of bone jutted into my stomach.
It took everything I had not to moan. My insides felt on fire. Now I was a good mage, but I was also a practical one. I knew when I needed help. This was definitely one of those times. I reached inside my soul for whatever magick I had left. There wasn’t much, yet I focused it all into one word. “Tamu.”
“How dare you? That’s a Creation Caster word.” Kamilla bared her teeth. The bone crawler under her skin began to shift again. She set her hand on her throat. “This is what you did to the Tsar, isn’t it? Creation Caster magick combined with Necromancer power. You want to destroy the Vicomte just like you did the Tsar.” Her face turned wild with rage. “I won’t allow it! Do you hear me?” She raised both arms high, and bone needles sliced through me. Arms, legs, belly, lungs… The needles pierced my body and burned with pain.
Kamilla stood only inches away from me. With a snap of her fingers, a bone needle began edging toward my face. It pierced my cheek, its angle leading it directly toward my brain.
This was it. I was good as dead.
I took in a deep breath, although the movement caused a riot of pain in my punctured lungs. If I was going to die, it wouldn’t be while groveling and telling lies.
“So you know, Kamilla. I wanted to kill the Tsar. The Sire and Lady wouldn’t allow me to. And if I had the chance right now, I’d kill the Vicomte.”
“How I’ll enjoy watching you die.” Kamilla slowly raised her hand, her fingers poised for a final snap that would mean my doom.
She didn’t notice the haze of red mist forming behind her. Although my body was pierced through with agony, I could only smile.
Rowan was coming.
The red haze solidified into his familiar shape. Tall, broad shoulders, wide chest, and a body that was solid as a mountain. His hair was wild and his features were d
rawn tight with rage. He took one look at the scene before him and pulled out both the short swords from his back. The blades didn’t make a sound.
Rowan leaped forward, kicking Kamilla to the ground. She rolled over and stared up at him, her eyes glazed over with confusion.
“What?” She stammered. “How?”
Rowan raised his short swords high. “I don’t like to kill women as a rule. But you know the saying. Destroy the mage; destroy the spell. And you’ve cast a bad spell.”
Sweat beaded across her forehead. “I’ll take it back.” She snapped her fingers. The bone needles retracted into the floor. I fell forward onto my knees. Blood dripped from my mouth. My body was covered in tiny stab wounds. “See? She’s free now.”
Rowan looked over to me. All the rage in the realm shone in his eyes. “Sometimes, I break my own rules.” He brought his swords down in a scissor-like motion and lopped off Kamilla’s head. Her face was frozen in a scream as her skull rolled across the floor.
I couldn’t say I felt bad about that.
The next thing I knew, Rowan scooped me into his arms. My eyes stung with tears. “Bone needles.” Every word made my lungs gurgle with blood.
“Shh.” Rowan kissed my brow and began a low incantation of healing. Warmth and strength spread through my body. My wounds closed over into unscarred skin. I could breathe again.
I wound my arms around his neck and pressed my cheek against his firm chest. “Thank you.”
“I’ll always come for you, Elea.” He gently kissed my cheek.
I released my hold and leaned back. I was completely healed. Even my dress was cleaned from all the tiny bloodstains. Rowan really was the finest mage I knew. Our gazes locked.
“I know what you’re about to say, Elea. I don’t want you going back in that mansion. Go home and be safe. Please.” He rubbed my back in slow circles. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Part of me wanted to believe him. I could walk away and all would be well, but even if Rowan could save Ada and the others, it was my mission to finish.
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