Concealed

by Christina Bauer

  I set the energy loose.

  Purple light flashed all around me. When the brightness faded, thousands of skeletons now stood nearby. They were of all different sizes and shapes.

  That was the Necromancer side of my hybrid power, summoning the skeletons. But I needed more than that. Caster energy must be part of this spell as well. It was the only way to generate a hybrid army that could fight and beat the Tsar.

  Besides, I wanted my gods-damned Brothers and Sisters back.

  Using all my focus, I pumped more magick into the skeletons. The skeletal bones became covered in muscle, flesh, and leather robes. Dark purple markings of bone covered their skin.

  Flesh and bone, with faces painted as skeletons.

  They were my army.

  They were perfect.

  Next, I used my power to contact the souls I’d connected with in the dungeons. I opened the channel of communication with the dead. It looked like I was speaking aloud to myself, but the message went to Quinn and his people. “I offer you a chance at life again. Even more importantly, I give you the hope of revenge. Come back and destroy the Tsar and his army. Take mortal form once more.”

  There wasn’t time for me to explain my full plan, yet that didn’t seem to matter. Ghostly voices echoed through my mind.

  Give us life and revenge.

  “Thank you, my Brothers and Sisters.” Pulling in fresh power, I summoned their souls back from the dead. Thousands of ghosts rose up from the ground, an army of blue spirits from the ashes below. Each ghost found the flesh and bone body that I’d prepared for them and slipped inside. With a burst of purple light, the two sides merged. Heights changed. Faces altered. The flesh and bone creations became matched the spirit they now housed. My spell was complete.

  My army began to move.

  What a sight. They were pale bodies with the images of skeletons painted on their skin in deep purple. They were alive and ready to fight.

  And the Tsar’s skeleton horde ran to meet them.

  The field of rubble became a blur of battle. Blue flashes of light filled the air as the Fantomes cast against my Necromancers. The Tsar’s skeletons leapt into the fray, their bone-white weapons gleaming in the starlight.

  I stumbled across the rubble until I saw them. The captured Creation Casters, along with Ada, Veronique, and the others. My hand still glowed with purple light. Good. I had some hybrid power left. Using my new magick, I pictured the spells I wanted. Again, the spells worked. Ada, Veronique, and the others became invisible to all but me. Meanwhile, the Creation Casters broke free of their chains and began to fight. I scanned the battlefield, looking for Rowan.

  He lay nearby, his body still immobile. Acting on instinct, I rushed to his side and set my hands on his chest.

  I hated him.

  I loved him.

  I didn’t want him to die.

  My hands glowed with a pale purple light. My hybrid magick was waning. I had perhaps one casting left in me. There was no question in my mind. I knew exactly how I would use the last of this hybrid power. I focused my magick into Rowan. The venom in his bloodstream pushed back with supernatural force. Too much time had gone by. His organs were failing. His soul was almost gone.

  The Tsar’s skeletons fought the Casters and Necromancers around me. Flashes of blue light exploded in the skies. I barely saw any of it. All I knew was that Rowan was dying. I wouldn’t let that happen. I pumped the last of my hybrid power into his body.

  He still didn’t move.

  A voice sounded behind my shoulder. “Are we done toying with hybrid magick?” It was the Tsar. “You’d best leave that work to those of us who understand our powers.”

  I slowly rose to face him. “My army is winning.”

  “But you’re about to die. There are no more bone crawlers here. No more lovers in the wings. An army at war, but too busy to fight for you. There are no more second chances. You’re all alone. And you’re mine.”

  A warm hand wrapped around my wrist. I looked down to see Rowan propped up on his elbow, his right hand grasping my left. The veins in his entire arm glowed red as he pumped Caster power into me. My body felt on fire. Pain like I’d never known ripped me from the inside out.

  But the hybrid magick came back.

  I reached out with my mage senses. The gateway was still nearby. Agony shot through me as I released a cloud of purple magick. When the haze vanished, the gate had moved. This time, it had formed right behind the Tsar.

  So close. One small push and he’s back through the gateway.

  I crumpled forward onto my knees. Hurt ripped through my brain. Every inch of my being felt like it was tearing apart. I moaned in agony.

  Rowan gripped my hand more tightly. “You can do it, Elea. Send that bastard back.”

  With one last rush of pain and power, I hurled our hybrid magick at the Tsar. He flew backward through the gate. Another flash of violet light tore through the night sky, and the gateway was gone. I exhaled. At last. The Tsar was gone, too.

  The final thing I saw was all the Tsar’s skeletons fall lifeless to the ground as my body collapsed. After that, my mind faded into oblivion. All the while, I still felt Rowan’s hand in mine.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I awoke in my tavern bed and rolled onto my side, every muscle in my body aching with the effort. When I saw who was seated beside my mattress, I thought perhaps I was still asleep.

  I blinked hard. Then, I did it again.

  Rowan was still sitting beside me. He wore his brown leathers and an intense look on his rugged face. Heavy scruff covered his chin. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

  Not sure how I feel about that.

  One part of me was glad to see him alive. He’d saved my life in the battle with the Tsar. Another part of me knew that had changed nothing. We still couldn’t be together. And he was engaged to Amelia.

  I always knew Rowan was a member of the Imperial family. They always married for political advantage. So, I shouldn’t be upset that Rowan had gotten engaged.

  I was furious.

  Fortunately, I was now alert enough to school my emotions. True, I might be angry, but I wouldn’t let him see it. I forced myself to sit up. The movement revealed that I was now wearing a cotton nightshift. I’d been here for some time, then. “How long have I been asleep?”

  Rowan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “A fortnight.”

  My brows lifted. Fourteen nights? For me to stay asleep that long, that meant magick. “Did you put me in stasis?” That involved slowing a body down until it was almost frozen solid. It was complex and draining magick.

  Rowan nodded. “My Caster power wouldn’t leave your body. You were burning up with it. Once you were in stasis, I could heal you in phases.”

  In other words, Rowan had been casting healing spells at my bedside. It wasn’t that he hadn’t slept in a few days. It had been more like a few weeks. The realization should have blunted my anger.

  It didn’t though. The bastard was engaged to someone else. It was an effort to keep my tone heavy and formal. “Thank you for watching over me.”

  Rowan eyed me carefully. I had the upsetting impression that he was guessing my thoughts. Again. “The engagement means nothing. It’s a means to get the Sword of Theodora. That weapon is the only way my people can survive.” His voice turned pleading. “If you’ll only allow me to explain.”

  “No.” Low chanting echoed into the room. I welcomed the distraction. “What’s that noise?”

  Rowan scrubbed his palms over his face. “I’d rather finish our discussion.”

  “I’d rather not.” I rose from the bed. The voices grew louder. Unease twisted through my stomach. With shaky steps, I walked over to the window. Anxiety prickled my skin into gooseflesh.

  Please don’t let this be what I think it is.

  I braced my arms on the wooden sill. Outside, a harvest moon hung low in the night sky. In the moonlight, I could see the entire town was crammed wit
h people. The thin, winding streets, the rickety wooden buildings, even the pushcarts… Every free patch of ground was inhabited by mages in purple robes, all of them holding candles. I shielded my eyes against the glass, trying for a better look. The mages all had the images of the skeletons on their skin.

  These were the ghosts I’d raised and placed into bodies on the battlefield.

  The scene was almost beyond belief. I shook my head. “They’re still alive and waiting for me.”

  “They’ve been here for the last two weeks,” said Rowan. “It’s all a vigil for your health and survival.”

  “A vigil for me.” I rubbed my eyes. This must be a dream. Somehow, I’m still asleep and recovering from my battle with the Tsar. No matter how I rubbed my eyes, the vision from my window didn’t change. Bit by bit, the crowd’s chant grew more clear.

  “Tsarina. Tsarina. Tsarina.”

  With a gasp, I stepped away from the windowsill. Tsarina. They thought I could rule the Necromancers? I was a farm girl. “I’m not their leader. That should be Petra.”

  Rowan moved to stand beside me. Moonlight outlined his profile as he gazed out the window. “They seem to disagree. I’ve been where you are now. They won’t let you go.” His gaze intensified. Once again, I could imagine his thoughts as clearly as if they were my own.

  I won’t let you go, either.

  My insides twisted into knots. “And we—” I gestured between Rowan and me. “Any kind of relationship simply isn’t possible. Not after what happened.”

  “I understand.” Rowan’s body heat radiated against me. I was torn between wanting to push him away and needing to lean in closer. He slowly raised his hand and ran his fingertip along my jawline. Everywhere he touched I felt a rush of warmth.

  By the Sire. I wanted him, but I could never have him. Which was why I needed to walk away.

  Yet I stayed rooted to the spot.

  “You need time to heal.” Rowan trailed his hand around to the back of my neck, his fingers brushing up and down the base of my skull. “And I can be patient.” His rough voice lowered an octave. “But make no mistake, Elea. This isn’t over.” He started to lean forward.

  Don’t let him kiss you, Elea. He’s a liar. You’re a strong Necromancer. Push him away.

  I couldn’t. One last kiss didn’t seem like a terrible idea.

  A knock sounded on the door, breaking the moment. Coming back to my senses, I took a huge step away from Rowan. His gaze never wavered from mine. His last words seemed to hang in the air between us.

  “This isn’t over.”

  Quinn stepped into the room. Sure, I knew from looking out the window that the Necromancers I’d raised were still nearby, yet seeing one in the flesh? My mouth fell open. Quinn looked just as he had when I’d first conjured him on the battlefield. The image of the skeleton inside him was still painted on his face in purple. His shaved head and scarred face were just as they’d been in life.

  When he saw me standing, Quinn immediately fell to his knees. “Tsarina.”

  All the blood drained from my face. “You’re still alive.”

  “We all are.” He kept his gaze locked to the floor.

  “Quinn.” I tugged on the shoulder of his robes. “Please, get off your knees.”

  Quinn rose, a large smile brightening his scarred face. “You look fit and well. Genesis Rex said he’d heal you, and he did.”

  “Yes, well, I’m healed now.” This was all beyond overwhelming. I’d raised thousands of Necromancers from the dead, and now one of them was in my bedroom. “You can take your leave.”

  Quinn straightened his stance. “Where would you have us all go, Tsarina?”

  My eyes widened. He thinks I’m giving him orders to head out. “That wasn’t what meant. Those weren’t orders to go anywhere. I’m not your Tsarina.”

  Quinn frowned. “Of course, you’re not.”

  I sighed. “Thank you.”

  Quinn’s face took on a dreamy look. “No, you’re far more than a Tsarina. Perhaps you would like us to address you as something else? A deity perhaps?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary,” I said quickly. “Tsarina will be fine for now.”

  Until I can get you under Petra’s rule.

  Rowan leaned against the wall and hitched his left leg across the right. His gaze met mine, and a look of sympathy flashed across his face. His words echoed through my mind.

  “I’ve been where you are now. They won’t let you go.”

  My eyes narrowed as I considered my options. All in all, there was really only one thing to do. If they wanted me to be their Tsarina, I’d simply command them to march on off. “I wish you all to travel to the Zelle Cloister. My old Mother Superior, Petra, is waiting for you. She’ll assess your skills and train each of you into achieving your full potential as a Necromancer.”

  “Quite wise,” said Quinn. “You’ll want to train us as your army.”

  “No, no armies.” My voice came out harsher than I thought. “All of you going to the Zelle Cloister to learn. That’s my only wish.”

  Quinn tilted his head, confused. “You’re not going with us?”

  “Not now. I’ll come and visit as soon as possible.”

  Quinn’s jaw fell slack. “So, who is to lead us?”

  I said the first thing that came into my head. “I appoint you, Quinn.”

  It was an impetuous decision. However, the more I turned the thought over the more it appealed to me. Quinn was the one I trusted the most. He tried to save me on the battlefield when everyone else gave up. Plus, he’d been a Master Necromancer in life. You didn’t reach that level without understanding how to lead your fellow mages.

  Quinn would be fine.

  A long moment passed in silence. “Did you hear what I said?” I asked.

  “Yes, thank you for this honor.” The way Quinn said the words he seemed anything but appreciative. In fact, the man appeared downright confused by the fact that I wasn’t waving my Tsarina flag high. Why could no one understand that power wasn’t attractive to everyone?

  “You’re most welcome,” I said.

  Quinn shifted his weight from foot to foot. “What do you want to do with the Fantomes? Many wish to see them executed.”

  “Don’t kill them.” I didn’t work this hard to save our people only to execute them without any thought. “No one murders the Fantomes. Just get them safely to Petra, and she’ll decide from there.” Quinn frowned, so I went on. “I want to try to rehabilitate them. I believe that some of the mages do want redemption.”

  “So Petra will decide.”

  “Yes.” This seemed safe. Petra hated bloodshed more than I did. Quinn opened his mouth, ready to ask another question. The longer this conversation went on, the more I’d be tempted to act as Tsarina.

  Our chat needed to end.

  I quickly stepped to the door, pulled it open, and gestured to the outer hall. “That’s all for now, Quinn. If you’ll excuse me, I need my rest.”

  “As you wish, Tsarina.” Quinn bowed slightly and shuffled out into the hallway. With Quinn gone, I refocused my attention on Rowan. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the wall. “I am rather tired, Rowan, so…”

  He kicked off the wall and turned to face me. The rugged lines of his face were set with determination. “And you wish me to leave?”

  It took a force of will to say the next word. “Yes.”

  Rowan stepped up until only an inch separated our bodies. A slow smile rounded his lips. “Now, who’s lying?”

  And gods-damn it, he was right.

  Still, I watched him saunter through the door, down the outer hallway, and out of my life. As he disappeared down the steps, I gripped the handle of my door so tightly my knuckles flared white.

  Goodbye, Rowan. You may not agree, but what was between us has to be over.

  Suddenly, every inch of my body felt empty. My eyelids had never felt heavier. I returned to bed, huddled under the sheets, and fell into a deep sleep.


  In my dreams, I stepped along the road to Braddock Farm. Every footfall took a life’s age. No matter how quickly I tried to move, I never seemed to move forward. My old life seemed forever out of reach. Still, I wouldn’t give up.

  Home was waiting.

  I’d be back soon.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  When I opened my eyes again, pale beams of morning light shifted across my bedroom wall. I pulled back my thin coverlet, padded across the floor, and peeped out the tavern window. The quiet town stretched out below me, a labyrinth of dirt roads flanked by rickety wooden buildings. I let out a relieved breath.

  All the Necromancers were gone. They’d followed my orders.

  A knock sounded on the bedroom door. “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Tsarina, it’s Quinn.”

  I gritted my teeth together. He’s still here and calling me Tsarina. That has to stop. I scooped up a small blanket from the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Come in, please.”

  The door swung open, and Quinn stepped inside the room. In the morning light, it was even clearer how the markings on his face were actually a part of his skin. What kind of spell had I cast, anyway? I’d been out of my head when it came to me. I won’t be able to access hybrid magick again. All the bone crawlers were gone, so that option was closed. And working to access the hybrid power through Rowan? I wasn’t going near him again if I could ever avoid it. Plus, I didn’t know how to control that power without burning up. I was lucky that Quinn and the others seemed well and healthy.

  Quinn spoke, jarring me from my thoughts. “Good morning, Tsarina.”

  “Why are you here, Quinn? I asked you to go.”

  “I have need of your wisdom. It will only take a minute, Tsarina.”

  “Please. Call me by my first name. Elea.”

  “As you command, Elea.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to argue the fact that I wasn’t commanding anything. But I shut it just as quickly. Let him think whatever he likes. Soon enough, they’ll all be taking orders from Petra and forget all about me. Even as I tried to rationalize this thought, some small part of me screamed that was impossible. My old life was gone. They’d always see me as their maker. Meanwhile, the Necromancers I’d freed saw me as their savior, Ada and Veronique included. I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of that, to be honest.