Concealed

by Christina Bauer

  Rowan picked up a small blade from the tabletop. “These are thick with dust.” His forehead creased. “The coating is far too heavy to be natural.”

  He handed me the tiny knife. There was no mistaking the thick, flaky substance covering the metal. The hairs on my neck stood on end. “This isn’t dust. It’s ashes.”

  “What kind of ashes?”

  “The kind that Gretel left behind.” I forced my voice to stay calm. Inside, I felt anything but.

  Rowan gently rested his hand on my shoulder. “The Vicomte tried using bone crawlers to drain those with Necromancer power.”

  I nodded. “And those bone crawlers would only answer to the Tsar.” A chill of worry wound down my spine. “That wouldn’t have stopped the Vicomte from trying to manipulate them anyway. And if the Necromancers didn’t live through the experiments, then…” I didn’t need to finish the thought. We’d seen firsthand what happened when the bone crawler inside Gretel died.

  Rowan strode toward the door. “We should leave, Elea. There are no live Necromancers here.”

  Part of me knew I should listen to Rowan. After all, moving on was the most logical thing to do. I was after living Necromancers, not the dead.

  But I couldn’t go.

  Instead, I walked deeper into the old laboratory. With every step, the tables changed. They became heavier. One had broken parts of a crank attached. I’d seen these before. Torturers called it the rack. I picked up a heavy length of leather from the floor.

  A restraining belt.

  Bile crawled up my throat. “What happened here?”

  “Nothing we should concern ourselves with now. Let’s ask my contacts for more information. Perhaps your Sisters are held in an estate nearby.”

  That logical part of me spoke louder in my soul.

  Leave, Elea.

  I tossed the belt to the floor. Rage and disgust wheeled inside me. My people had been brought here and tortured, all to gather up their Necromancer power. “I’m not going anywhere until I know what happened.” I moved closer to the far wall.

  Only this wasn’t a wall.

  It was a massive pile of blackened ash that filled the back of the laboratory from floor to ceiling.

  My mouth fell open. “This can’t be.”

  Rowan stepped to my side. “By the gods.”

  “So much ash. It can’t be mages.” My voice was steady, yet my limbs trembled with fear. “I have to cast a spell to find out. If there are the remains of someone who can help me here, then my casting will detect it.”

  Rowan’s voice was gentle. “Whatever you need.” Still, he unsheathed the short swords from his back, ready for a fight.

  I called Necromancer power to me. The air became thick with memory and energy. I pulled it into my body, focused it on my left arm, and spoke the incantation.

  Ghost and shadow

  Flesh and bone

  Necromancer souls

  I summon you home

  Blue mist materialized by my feet. I lowered my left hand, releasing the spell. The azure-colored haze crawled up the pile of ashes. Finding a spot it liked, the spell slipped its way inside.

  Long seconds passed. Tension bit into my temples.

  Please, let the spell find me someone trustworthy. Or no one at all. Perhaps this was all ash from dead animals or bone crawlers. That was unlikely, but I’d learned how the impossible happened all the time.

  A low hiss sounded. My breath caught. The spell has found a mage who could assist. Mist began oozing back out of the wall of ash.

  My mage would soon appear.

  The blue haze lengthened and solidified into the shape of a tall man in Necromancer robes. He had a bald head and scarred face. I’d have known that visage anywhere.

  It was Quinn, the blood brother of Tristan, my one-time best friend.

  Once his spirit took shape, Quinn’s transparent form glared at me. “Whoever you are, send me back. Run for your life.” As he spoke, one side of his mouth ticked up in a strange rhythm. The man looked seconds away from going berserk.

  I shook my head. The change in Quinn was almost too much to process. How could this happen? The last time I’d seen him, it was the night that Tristan died. At the time, Quinn had been a Brother in one of the monasteries. He’d acted and spoken without any emotion, just like a proper Necromancer. Now, Quinn positively radiated terror and feeling. It took a lot to break a trained Necromancer. What had happened to Quinn before he died?

  “I said send me back!”

  “Listen, Quinn.” I tapped my chest with my fingertips. “It’s me. Elea. Tristan’s friend.”

  Quinn’s eye began to twitch as well. “Elea? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a Grand Mistress Necromancer. I summoned you.” Poor Quinn. I’d seen this before. His memory was trapped in knowing only what had happened right before he died. As far as Quinn was aware, there was some kind of threat nearby. The man was only trying to protect me.

  “Didn’t you hear me? Run!” Quinn’s voice boomed around the chamber. “They’re killing us!”

  Bands of worry tightened around my throat. They’re killing us. This was my worst fear confirmed.

  When I next spoke, I took care to put the weight of magick into my voice. “Listen to me. You must explain exactly what happened here.”

  Quinn glared at Rowan. “Who’s he?”

  “My ally.”

  “I’ll tell you nothing.” Quinn narrowed his eyes. “You’ve poor skills in choosing your friends.” Meaning Tristan.

  I balled my hands into fists. Ghosts could be unruly when summoned against their will. A Necromancer had to be firm. “Talk to me or I’ll cast a truth spell.” My voice lowered to a menacing tone. “And believe me, that will hurt.”

  Quinn frowned, and the motion twisted the slashes of battle scars across his face. “As you command, Grand Mistress.” The last two words were spoken with deepest sarcasm. “You know I pledged fealty to the Tsar. One of his agents placed a bone crawler in me. So long as I followed the Tsar’s rules, it wasn’t too awful.”

  I gritted my teeth as rage flowed through me. I’d seen the Tsar’s so-called rules in action back at the Midnight Cloister. You were either someone who brought him Necromancers to drain… Or you got drained yourself. “You betrayed your own people and joined the Tsar’s entourage. Glad it worked out for you.”

  Quinn lifted his chin. “I did what I had to in order to survive. It’s what anyone would have done.”

  “Elea didn’t join,” said Rowan.

  Quinn rounded on the Caster. “Then she’s more of a fool than I thought.”

  Rowan whispered a quick incantation. The blade in his right hand shone with crimson light. “Watch how you speak of Elea. She’s under my protection.”

  My chest warmed with pride and confidence. I wasn’t accustomed to having anyone help me in my battles. I returned my attention to Quinn. “Following the Tsar’s orders didn’t get you dead, though. What happened?”

  “You did, it would seem.” Quinn’s misshapen mouth thinned to an angry line. “When you sent the Tsar away, the Vicomte asked for members of the entourage to pledge fealty to him. I refused.”

  “How shocking,” I said coolly. “You were always so open to changing alliances.”

  “It didn’t seem possible for the Tsar to be well and truly gone. I was certain that he’d return any moment.” Quinn hugged his elbows. “When he didn’t, I was taken here. There were already thousands of people with Necromancer power locked up in these dungeons. I’d never seen so many in one place.”

  I remembered how the Midnight Cloister was rounding people up. “How did they keep so many hidden?” The compulsion for truth burned like a fire within my soul. I had to know what happened.

  “Stasis spells, mostly. You only woke up when they…” He swallowed. “When the Vicomte tried to take your power.”

  My heart thudded more quickly. “And then what did the Vicomte do?”

  “He did little. He had e
xperimenters do most of the work. They tried to pull out bone crawlers and place them in new subjects, thinking that the insects would then respond to the Vicomte.” Quinn’s shoulder’s slumped. “It didn’t work, but that didn’t stop them from trying. Over and over. Thousands of us passed through here, Elea. Once the Vicomte’s people pulled those insects out of us, we’d crumble to ash within minutes.”

  Just like Gretel.

  All the breath left my body. It took a force of will to inhale again. “How many of you are left?”

  “When I died? Only a few hundred.” He gestured behind him. “Look behind you. This is all that’s left of our people.”

  I straightened my back. “There are still the Fantomes.”

  Quinn sniffed. “They’re not true Necromancers. Our way of life is dead, Elea. Face it.”

  I took a half step backward. “No, that’s not true. Some of my Sisters and Brothers survived. I’m going to find them.”

  A malevolent gleam appeared in Quinn’s ghostly eyes. “You should have done what I said to, right after Tristan died. Do you remember my words, Elea? I told you to go home to your farm and enjoy your life while you could. And now, you’ve put on airs to become a Grand Mistress Necromancer, sent our Tsar off into exile, and what’s become of all your hard work? You’ve changed nothing. We’re still all as good as dead. Only some of us might have lived. Unlike you.”

  My bottom lip wobbled. By the gods, Quinn is right. I’d spent so long trying to save my people from the Tsar, and what had I done? Raised up the Vicomte instead. Avoided enjoying the gift of my life. Tears stung my eyes.

  Still, I couldn’t give up.

  “What about my Sisters? They might be hidden here while being drained. Do you sense any of them?” A ghost could search within the present if he wished. Unlike any spell that I would cast, Quinn could search without raising alarms among the Fantomes.

  Quinn’s eye twitched once again. “Haven’t you been listening?” His voice took on a hysterical tone. “Everyone here is dead. Dead, dead, dead, and you’re next!”

  Rowan stepped forward and raised his glowing sword. “That’s enough out of you.” He swung the bright blade through Quinn’s transparent body, and the ghost disappeared. Quinn’s soul wasn’t destroyed, but the way he’d left wouldn’t feel too good, either. I couldn’t find it in me to pity him right now.

  A weight of grief settled into my bones. I hunched forward under the burden. Everyone here is dead. “This can’t be happening.”

  Rowan quickly encased me in his arms. “Don’t give up hope. Quinn didn’t seem in his right mind. Perhaps every Necromancer here is dead. That doesn’t mean your friends aren’t alive somewhere else. You might still save them. I bet Amelia will know where else to look.”

  My entire body felt leaden with sadness. “I hope so.” Even so, I knew the words were lies before they even left my mouth. The Montagne and Havilland estates were the only two places that seemed likely to hide my Sisters. Other than that? There were too many Royal estates and not enough time to search them.

  I leaned into the warmth of Rowan’s embrace and tried to process what had happened. My great quest was likely over. I had indeed found the lost Necromancers, and they were a pile of dust. My friends were likely lost as well.

  Still, it wasn’t in me to give up. A day remained to find Ada and the others.

  Rowan rubbed my back in gentle circles. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Get a list of nearby estates from Amelia’s library. After that, I’ll start searching again.” I forced myself to step away from his embrace. “I can’t give up, Rowan. I will save them.”

  “I believe you, Elea.”

  It was good that one of us had faith in me. Because one thought kept echoing through my heart.

  Ada, Veronique, and the others are gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  For a long moment, I could only stare at the ash pile. One thought kept echoing through my mind.

  Here are all that remains of a thousand Necromancers.

  Rowan held me close, yet the heat of his skin gave me no warmth. The icy truth only pressed more deeply into my bones.

  My way of life had almost vanished.

  The elderly Sisters at my Cloister might still be clever, but they couldn’t cast major spells anymore. Once, I’d hoped they could train new recruits or perhaps rehabilitate some Fantomes. With every passing moment, those dreams seemed farther out of reach.

  My eyes stung with held-in tears. When I’d lived with the Casters, they’d always called me the Last Necromancer. Since I was the only Grand Mistress they’d ever seen, I thought the term was sweet.

  Now the name seemed to be coming true.

  Rowan gently kissed the top of my head. “We need to return to the play.”

  “I know.” My words sounded as hollow as my heart.

  Suddenly, the blue sphere of magick moved. Instead of hovering by the back wall of ashes, it sped toward the open entranceway. All my senses went on alert. I stepped away from Rowan’s embrace, my mind reeling. The orb was moving. That could only mean one thing.

  My spell had detected new Necromancers.

  The Fantomes were coming.

  I pictured the complex route it took for Rowan and me to reach this room. If the mages could have transported to this spot, they would have already. Which meant that they weren’t sure where to find us and were using tracking spells. We had some time to prepare.

  I raised my left hand, careful to lace my voice with magick as I called to the sphere. “Halt!”

  The glowing orb paused by the archway door. I exhaled. If a troop of expert Necromancers was coming to kill me, at least they wouldn’t have a glowing guide to help them find my location.

  Rowan gestured toward the sphere. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  I nodded. “Fantomes.”

  “All of them?”

  I closed my eyes and felt in my soul for magick. A small amount remained, and I pushed it into the sphere, asking it how many mages approached. The answer instantly appeared in my mind’s eye. “Six of them are coming.” I opened my eyes and squashed the desire to kick something. “Summoning Quinn must have drawn their attention.”

  “If it had been me, I’d have done the same.”

  A sickly feeling crept into my stomach. Six mages might very well be coming here to kill Rowan and me. That was a goodly amount of all the Necromancers left alive. What would I do when they attacked? In order to survive, I’d have to destroy them.

  My mind raced through the implications. I would murder more my people when so many had already died. It was an impossible situation.

  There had to be another way.

  Rowan eyed me carefully. “What’re you thinking about?”

  “Spells.”

  “Don’t worry. They won’t expect Caster magick. I can kill them easily enough with a sneak attack.” Rowan raised his right arm and pulled magick into him. The veins in his right hand glowed red.

  A pang of worry tightened my heart. Rowan was the most powerful mage I’d ever met. He was right that they wouldn’t expect his kind of power. Together, we might very well destroy all the Fantomes who were heading this way.

  But I couldn’t let them die without giving them a chance.

  I stepped in front of Rowan, gripped his right hand, and forced it down. “Don’t hurt them.” The light disappeared from his bones.

  Rowan narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean? They’re evil.”

  “We don’t know that. I was alive when the Tsar first came to power. All the Fantomes were true Necromancers back then. You saw Quinn. Many were terrorized into joining the Tsar. Plus, after seeing Gretel, I’ve no doubt that some were conned into following the Vicomte. Now, with so few Necromancers left, I can’t just kill trained Necromancers out of hand. I must give them a chance to embrace our true ways again.”

  “Perhaps.” A muscle twitched along Rowan’s jawline. It was a sure sign he was worried. “But they’re coming
here to kill you.” His gravelly voice became even lower. “I will never let that happen.” He raised his hand once more.

  Part of me felt honored that Rowan was so determined to protect my life. More of me wanted to ensure the Necromancers didn’t vanish.

  I gripped Rowan’s wrist again. “Suppose you were about to face some of the last of your Casters. Could you kill them?”

  Rowan’s gaze locked with mine. Intensity burned in his emerald eyes. A long moment passed before he spoke again. “No, I couldn’t.” He lowered his arm.

  I exhaled. “Good.” The beginnings of an idea were forming in the back of my mind.

  It was so insane it might even work.

  Rowan moved closer, interrupting my thoughts. “We’ll have a short time to prepare before they find us.”

  “I don’t want to fight in a hallway. The passages down here are too cramped. That limits what spells I can cast.”

  “Agreed. If we make a stand, it should be in this room. There are tables to act as barriers, and the door seems stout.” He cracked the knuckles on his right hand. “I could create some animals that will slow them down as well.”

  I turned to face the wall of ashes. For my plan to work, I needed to break my ban against summoning ghosts. “And I’ll summon some ghosts. It’s easier to do when you have their remains nearby.”

  “What do you want ghosts for? Not to fight, surely.”

  Rowan’s question made perfect sense. When it came to spirits, their transparent bodies made them pretty useless in battles. Besides, ghosts had a lot of opinions about what they would or wouldn’t do. It wasn’t like summoning up a bunch of bones and animating them, which was my favorite kind of fighting spell. Ghosts needed convincing, especially to do what I was about to ask.

  “I don’t want them to fight. I need them to possess the living.”

  Rowan let out a low whistle. “That’s not too easy. They don’t like doing that, do they?”

  “It’s hard work to control a living mind, not to mention incredibly painful. But there are so many spirits here, some of them should agree. I only need six.”