by Caitlin Seal
Lucia clicked her tongue and extracted something from her bag. It was a delicate metal rod with tiny runes carved into the shaft and handle. Before Naya could make her sluggish body respond, Lucia grabbed her hand and touched the rod to it. The skin around the rod turned transparent, revealing what Naya assumed must be the bond Lucia had spoken of. Four bones floated in the space where her hand should have been—one in the bottom half of her thumb and three in her palm. Dozens of tiny runes had been carved into each bone. Their lines wove a complex pattern that blurred and twisted as she tried to trace their shapes. Naya shuddered. She pulled her hand away and was relieved when it returned to normal as soon as she broke contact with the strange rod. “What are you doing?”
Lucia examined the rod’s now-glowing runes, then muttered something to herself as she stuffed it back into her bag. “That device is a reader, which allows me to measure the energy flowing through your bond. You’re running dangerously low on aether.”
“Aether?”
“Yes, the energy fueling your bond. You’ll need to draw more in. It shouldn’t be a problem here. Any one of them can give you more than what you need.” She waved at the crowd.
“What are you talking about?” Aether was a type of energy, normally impossible to sense but collecting everywhere there was life. Celia had claimed wraiths could see aether, but what did Lucia mean by drawing it in? Naya’s mind conjured the stories she’d heard as a child about wraiths sucking out people’s souls to feed. Horror rose like vomit in her throat. “I won’t. I can’t.”
Lucia only looked annoyed. “You have to. Every wraith has to. Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t done it instinctively yet.”
The prospect of accidentally consuming the energy of those around her was even more horrifying. Naya took a step back.
Lucia scowled, then pulled a small silver watch from her pocket and glanced at it. “This is ridiculous. Come with me.”
On the tram ride back up the hill, Naya sat pressed against the window with her hands tucked in her lap, trying to look like the good little servant she was supposed to be. But even before her father taught her to brush elbows with the upper class, she’d never been good at holding in questions. “Where are we going?” she asked when the tram passed into a neighborhood she didn’t recognize.
“To visit an old apprentice of mine. Hopefully he can show you how to use your binding properly.”
“I thought you were supposed to help me,” Naya said. It didn’t seem wise to involve someone else, especially not another necromancer.
The tram rattled around a sharp turn. Lucia grimaced. “I’m not sure I can. You Talmirans are so…” Lucia made a vague gesture with one hand, then pushed her glasses up her nose. “You must understand that an aetherial body does not function the same as a physical one. Your thoughts affect what you are now as much as those runes I scribed. Every other wraith I’ve resurrected has drawn aether intuitively when they ran low. They didn’t need to be taught any more than babies need instructions on how to breathe. You seem to be blocking that process, and until you stop, your bond will continue to destabilize.”
“If you can’t explain it, then I don’t see why your apprentice would do any better,” Naya said.
“Former apprentice. He’s better suited to the task because he has firsthand experience in the matter, and he’s always had a knack for explaining the core principles behind the theory of our work. I hope that will be enough to help you, because right now I feel like a fish trying to explain flight to a bird.”
Three stops later they got off at a plaza shaded by a huge oak tree. They crossed the uneven cobblestones to an unremarkable two-story stone building set a little apart from its neighbors. A queer metal chimney poked out of the back, the air above it shimmering with heat. Above the door was a sign marking the place as a glassworker’s shop. Naya peeked over Lucia’s shoulder and saw an array of ordinary-looking plates, bowls, and glasses on display in the window. Her brow furrowed. This was where Lucia’s former apprentice worked? Lucia pushed the door open, causing a bell to chime somewhere inside.
The place was set up more like a sitting room than a shop. Other than the pieces in the window, there wasn’t much merchandise on display. Glass sculptures stood on pedestals and shelves around the edges of the room. Naya tilted her head, trying to make sense of their strange shapes. Before she could, a door at the back of the shop opened.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” said a young man about her age. Naya pulled her attention away from the sculptures. The newcomer wore a heavy leather vest set with black metal plates carved with runes. Underneath, his chest was bare, revealing a lean figure with well-muscled arms and tan skin a shade or two darker than Naya’s own. His brown pants were heavily padded and streaked with burns. He had dark hair that curled tight against his head, and dark-brown eyes set over broad cheekbones and a square jaw.
When he saw them, his welcoming smile froze. “Lucia.”
Lucia cleared her throat. “Hello, Corten. It’s good to see you again. How are you and Matius getting on?”
Corten’s eyes shifted to Naya, then back to Lucia. “We’re fine. Are you looking to buy some glass?”
“Ah, no. Not today.” Lucia pushed Naya forward. “This is Blue. She’s a recent patient and she’s…well, she’s Talmiran and she’s having some trouble learning to draw aether. Normally I wouldn’t want to bother you, but I hoped you could help her better understand what it is to be a wraith.”
Corten’s eyes widened. He glanced at Naya again, then shook his head. “I can’t. Matius is working on a set of vases. He needs me to watch the front.”
Some of the false cheer drained from Lucia’s voice. “This is important. She needs someone to explain the basics of aether manipulation. You can describe those concepts better than I can. I’m sure if you told him what it was for, Matius would be happy to spare you for a few minutes.”
Lucia and Corten stared at each other in silence. The air between them felt charged, though Naya couldn’t guess the source of the tension. Finally Corten looked away. “And you expect me to believe there was no one else you could ask?”
“I am asking the person best suited to the task.”
Corten rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes found Naya’s, then darted away. “All right, fine. I’ll ask Matius.”
Corten disappeared through the shop’s back door. He returned a couple of minutes later followed by a large bald man with a round face and eyes surrounded by laugh lines. Like Corten he wore singed pants and a vest covered in runed plates. “Lucia! Haven’t seen you in an age. How are you?”
“I’m well. Sorry to barge in, but I need to borrow your apprentice.”
“So I heard.” The big man, Matius apparently, clapped Corten on the shoulder. “Course we’re happy to help.”
“Thank you.” Lucia’s smile brightened and she turned to Corten. “The chief problem is her aether. There’s no issue with the binding, but she isn’t drawing new energy. Teach her that, and I’ll handle the rest.”
The pain in Naya’s hand was making it hard to concentrate. She tried to keep her eyes downcast while still stealing glances at the two strange men. Celia had told her to avoid speaking too much until she could get her accent right, and here Lucia was dragging her in front of a pair of strangers, one of whom seemed not at all happy to see them.
“We’ll get her sorted out,” Matius said.
“Thank you,” Lucia said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment I’m already late for. Blue, please come back to the shop when you’re done here. I have a few errands to run. I doubt you’ll get back before I do, but just in case—take this.” She handed Naya an iron key, like the one she’d used to lock the door earlier, before practically fleeing out the door.
“Well, a Talmiran wraith,” Matius said after a moment of awkward silence. “Not every day you see that. Blue, was it?�
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Naya nodded. They were both looking at her now.
“No need to be shy. You’re among friends here,” Matius said.
Friends. It had to be a joke, but the warmth in his tone suggested otherwise. Well, he certainly wouldn’t consider her a friend if he knew who she really was. “Thank you,” she managed to say. Her instincts screamed at her to be wary, but she was almost too tired to care.
Matius smiled. “No need. Corten, why don’t you take Miss Blue outside for a bit? If she’s low, then I can’t imagine it’s comfortable for her to be this close to the furnaces.”
Corten, who had been staring at Naya like she was a puzzle waiting to be solved, blinked. “Right,” he said. Then to Naya he added, “Give me a minute to get changed. You can wait outside if you want.”
Corten hurried up a flight of stairs set into the wall on the right. With a smile and a nod, Matius retreated through the back door. Corten returned a moment later wearing a white shirt only marginally less singed than his pants. He gestured toward the door, and Naya followed him out into the shady plaza.
Corten shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked. “So your name is Blue?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re really from Talmir?”
Naya frowned, unease coiling in her chest. “Why are you asking?”
Corten looked away. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just unusual to see a resurrected Talmiran.”
“You say that as though there are others.” Valn had claimed as much, but Naya still found it hard to believe.
“None that I’ve met.”
Naya crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s probably because most Talmirans are smart enough to stay clear of this cursed place.”
Corten raised his eyebrows and Naya quickly lowered her gaze. Fool. Hold your tongue. She felt like her head was full of fog, and the ache in her hand wasn’t helping.
“That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?” Corten asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, you did accept Lucia’s resurrection. If you’d died anywhere else, you’d just be dead.”
“I didn’t accept anything.”
Corten frowned. “The necromancer’s song isn’t a command, it’s an open door. You chose to step through it.”
Naya felt a sudden chill. Corten had to be wrong. “I didn’t,” she said, taking a moment to go back over the story Valn had told her. “Last I remember, I was on my way back to my master’s ship. I guess I wasn’t paying enough attention while I was walking. I remember hearing shouting, hoofbeats, and wheels rattling behind me. Then something knocked me over. Next I knew I was in Miss Lucia’s shop and she was telling me that she’d purchased my contract and that I was to work for her now.”
Corten frowned. “Your contract? What do you mean?”
“I’m indentured. Miss Lucia bought me while I was dead and then resurrected me to work for her.”
“That can’t be right. Lucia would never take on an indentured servant, especially not without giving them a choice.”
“I’m not lying,” Naya said, maybe a little too forcefully.
“I didn’t mean—” Corten shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now we need to get your aether stabilized. Come on. You’ll be more comfortable sitting.” He crossed the plaza and sat on a bench under the big oak tree. Naya hesitated, then perched on the opposite end of the bench.
“So, how much do you know about wraiths?” Corten asked.
“Not very much. I’ve heard stories but…”
Corten snorted. “Let me guess. You’ve heard we’re evil monsters who suck the life out of children for kicks.”
“We?”
Corten raised one hand and Naya watched, fascinated and slightly queasy, as his fingers glowed blue, then turned transparent. “Yes, we. You, me, wraiths.”
A blush heated Naya’s cheeks, followed quick by a flash of anger. She shouldn’t have been embarrassed by Corten’s brassy tone, or the way he stared at her. She didn’t care what he thought. “Fine. If wraiths aren’t like they are in the stories, then what are they like?”
“We,” Corten corrected. “What are we like.”
Naya glared at him. Corten actually had the gall to smile back. “It’s not as bad as you think. We aren’t monsters. Our bodies are just a little different from other people’s. We don’t need food or sleep. We just need to draw in aether to keep our bonds steady. You know what aether is, right?”
Saying they were a little different was like saying a whale was a little bigger than a minnow. “I know it’s a sort of energy.”
“Close enough. Most rune scribes classify it along with the other three types of energy: light, kinetic, and heat. We still don’t know as much about it as we’d like. Aether is given off by all living things. It tends to disperse through environments like a gas. It doesn’t fade like other energies, though it can be converted to them with minimal loss. You won’t need to worry about the details of how it works. The runes in your bond will let you draw it and convert it into whatever you need.”
“Miss Lucia said I was running out of aether. What happens if I don’t draw more in?”
“Your bond fades and you die. It’s painful, or so I’m told. Given that it’s almost impossible to bring a soul back a second time, I really wouldn’t recommend it.”
Naya tried to imagine what it would be like to fade. Would it be like falling asleep, or like starving? The memory of the darkness she’d seen after the poison stole her breath was still with her, despite her attempts to lock it away. Her fingers balled tighter around her skirt. No matter how much she hated this new body, she didn’t want to die again. “All right, so how do I draw aether?”
“It’s like breathing,” Corten said, unhelpfully.
Naya took a deep breath, then let it out. It didn’t do anything to lessen the pain throbbing from her hand. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Breathing air won’t do you any good. You need to stop thinking about yourself the way you were. Here, try this. Close your eyes. I want you to try to feel the world around you. This city has a pulse. All life connects to that pulse through the aether. Try to feel it, then when you do, breathe it in.”
“I don’t feel anything.”
“You aren’t trying.” There was an edge of frustration to his voice now.
Naya glared at him. “How would you know?”
Corten took a deep breath and Naya saw, or thought she saw, something faint and blue swirl around him. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can’t guess what this must be like for you. I know how your people feel about us. But trust me—no matter how strange this sounds, once you get the feel of the aether you won’t lose it. Wraiths are naturally attuned to life energy.”
He was right: he didn’t have any idea what it was like. She knew what the people of Ceramor believed about necromancy. People here claimed to follow the Creator’s teachings as set down in the Scrolls of the Dawning, just as her people did in Talmir. But the Ceramoran keepers twisted the words of the Scrolls to justify Ceramor’s use of necromancy. They believed souls were bound to life because they had some purpose to fulfill. That purpose might be one great deed or a thousand tiny acts spread through a long and quiet life. But when accident or illness stole a life before its purpose was fulfilled, the necromancers argued, the soul should be brought back. They claimed that resurrections could only succeed if the soul still had business in this world, and that such miracles would be impossible without the Creator’s blessing. Naya’s father had called those arguments the pinnacle of man’s hubris. Necromancy was a temptation made to test the faithful. Anyone could see mortals weren’t supposed to have control over life and death. If they were, then there would have been a way to bring people back exactly as they had been, not as tattooed walking corpses or ghostly wrait
hs.
Corten didn’t seem to understand that his explanations only made Naya’s legs itch to run despite her exhaustion. She could make it to the docks, stow away on the next ship for home, and then start a new life somewhere in Talmir. But even as the idea blossomed, she knew how futile it was. Running wouldn’t change what she was, and in Talmir she’d be hunted the moment her nature was discovered.
At least by staying she had a chance to protect others from suffering her fate. Naya forced herself to take a slow breath. “Fine. What do I have to do?”
“Close your eyes.” She closed her eyes, uncertain. “Good. Now try to relax. Don’t think about anything, just try to feel the city. Try to find the pulse.”
Naya spread her fingers as she leaned back. The wooden bench was rough underneath her hands. Hot sun beat down on her face through the stagnant afternoon air. Both were reassuringly familiar—ordinary wood, ordinary sun. Despite the chaos of the past two days, despite all Corten’s unnerving comments about energy and wraiths, some of the tension leached from her body. She thought about the blue wisps she’d seen glowing around the undead man’s wrists, and the ones around Lucia’s door. Runes could manipulate aether. Maybe what she’d noticed before was part of the special sight Celia had mentioned.
The square filled with the mingled sounds of the city: the distant rumble of the trams, children laughing and voices calling from some other street, footsteps. Now that she was paying attention, those sounds did have a certain rhythm to them. It wasn’t a pulse exactly, but it resonated through her. She concentrated harder, trying to pin down the beat.
At first it was like trying to catch the words of a song sung two rooms over. But as she listened the beat grew clearer. Suddenly it became more than a sound. She could feel it surrounding her, like the very air was humming. Concentrating harder, she thought she could almost taste it—warm and sweet-salty. But it wasn’t all the same. Inside the cloud she sensed thousands of subtle variations. A boy ran past, and she could sense his eagerness. His joy was sweet lemon in her mouth and warm paving stones under pounding bare feet. Intuitively she knew she could draw that energy in and make it her own, erase the weakness in her arms and legs and soothe the aching bones in her hand.
