Twice Dead

by Caitlin Seal

  The café’s front windows were small and showed glimpses of an interior dimly lit by the warm glow of a few scattered oil lamps. Naya wondered if the owners were too poor to afford rune lights or if they preferred the natural flicker. She could just make out Lucia sitting with another woman at one of the back tables. Naya took a moment to steady herself, then slipped inside before her doubts could send her running.

  The café wasn’t large, but even at this late hour more than half the tables were full. The lanterns left deep shadows in the room’s corners, and though the aether was thin, the air was thick with a smoky haze that smelled of spices. Naya picked a table a little to the left of Lucia’s, tucked away next to a partition separating the seating area from what she assumed was the hall leading back to the kitchen. She kept her shawl up and was careful to sit with her face turned away from Lucia’s table.

  “Can I bring you something, miss?”

  Naya started and looked up to see a young waiter in a rumpled white shirt. No aether drifted from him, but when she concentrated she could see a faint blue glow outlining his limbs. Like Corten, Naya thought. The waiter had to be another wraith. She turned her gaze away. “Uh, tea,” she said, immediately feeling foolish. The other wraith could probably sense what she was. He would know she couldn’t eat or drink. But instead of asking why she would waste a perfectly good cup of tea, he only smiled and said, “Of course.”

  As soon as he was gone, Naya let her eyelids droop and focused on the hum of conversation around her. The books she’d read said wraiths didn’t see and hear the same way the living did. Somehow, they perceived the world through their soul’s connection to the aether. With proper concentration they could extend their senses through the aether to pick out details the living would miss. Naya let her concentration wander from the physical world, trying to sense the aether around her. Once she did, she realized with a start why the aether felt so thin: several of the people sitting around her were wraiths. Glancing around, she noticed glowing runic tattoos peeking out from the sleeves and collars of many of the other patrons. Aside from Lucia and her companion, hardly anyone in the room was living.

  Naya looked more closely at the other patrons, grim curiosity overcoming her unease. The crowd varied widely in both wealth and age. They lounged in small groups over cups of tea and small glasses of amber liquor. She wasn’t the only wraith who’d ordered a drink. She watched as a young woman a few years older than her raised a glass and touched it to her lips before setting it back on the table. The woman smiled, then laughed at something her companion said.

  The waiter returned with a delicate white cup. “Your tea, miss.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Naya muttered, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way she’d been staring at the other customers. After he left, Naya leaned back in her chair. Wisps of steam curled off her tea. When she breathed them in, she could almost taste the rich, earthy aroma. Her throat tightened and her eyes prickled with the sudden threat of tears. Foolish, all of them. Pretending they were still alive wouldn’t make it so.

  She closed her eyes, trying to refocus her attention on the aether. She hadn’t come here for tea. She was a spy. She had a mission. She needed to make sure Lucia wouldn’t compromise that. With the aether so thin, it wasn’t hard to pick out the nervousness drifting off Lucia. Naya homed in on it, trying to let her other senses follow the aether to its source.

  “—told you it’s nothing,” Lucia said. Her voice was barely audible over the hum of other conversations, but Naya still felt a thrill as she picked out the words. She pushed back her chair so she could glance over at Lucia’s table. The necromancer was holding a cup of something steaming. Across from her sat a slightly younger woman in a green silk dress. Her fine black hair was accented by a few strands of silver and fell in waves around a heart-shaped face. Her aether was tinged with grating frustration, mixed with a fierce, warm concern that somehow made Naya feel guilty for listening in.

  “Lu, please. I’m worried about you,” the other woman said. “You’ve been so tense lately.” She reached over to lace her fingers with Lucia’s.

  Warmth and bitter sadness spread through Lucia’s aether. She squeezed her companion’s fingers. When she smiled, the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine, just busy. Were you able to find out anything?”

  The other woman pursed her lips. “About the missing Talmirans? I spoke to a few people, but all I’ve found out are rumors. It’s troubling certainly, but I don’t see how it’s Council business.”

  Lucia sighed. “Perhaps it isn’t.” She was silent for a moment. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but it may be harder for me to meet in the future.”

  “What—” the other woman began.

  “Haven’t seen you around here before,” someone said from Naya’s left.

  Naya turned. The young woman from the table next to hers had come to stand beside her. She planted one hand on her hip, the other holding her drink. She had a round face and a wide smile.

  Naya tensed as frustration battled with a sudden flash of unease. She tried to recapture the string of Lucia’s conversation, but the interruption had broken her concentration. The woman continued to stare at her, obviously expecting an answer. “I’m new,” Naya finally said.

  The woman’s eyebrows rose as she registered Naya’s accent. “Talmiran?” she asked, an edge creeping into her voice.

  Naya cursed silently as a couple of the woman’s friends looked their way. Their expressions were only curious, but Naya still wanted to flinch from their attention. Instead she forced herself to sit a little straighter. “What if I am?” she asked.

  The woman tucked a stray lock of dark-brown hair behind one ear. “Sorry. I just didn’t think your kind could be resurrected.”

  One of the woman’s companions snickered. Naya’s cheeks grew hot. “Well, we can be.” She’d met the woman’s type back at the academy. The best way to get rid of her would be to avoid giving her a reaction. Make the game boring enough and they would move on. Usually. Naya’s grip tightened on her teacup. She tried to reach back into the aether and find Lucia, hoping the necromancer hadn’t noticed her.

  “Fascinating,” the woman said, again breaking Naya’s concentration. “Well, I guess Talmiran principles aren’t as strong as all your Dawning keepers claim. Necromancy must not look so evil when you’ve seen the other side.”

  Naya stood up. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You—”

  A hand gripped Naya’s shoulder. Lucia’s aether flooded into Naya through the touch. Though she looked calm, her energy stank of fear and anger. “Why don’t we go home, Blue.”

  The woman in front of them gave Lucia a quizzical look. “Lucia?”

  Lucia nodded politely, then dropped a few coins onto the table next to Naya’s cup of tea. “It’s Iselia, right? Nice to see you again, but my assistant and I will be leaving now.” She tugged Naya’s shoulder. Naya followed, unsure what else to do. She could hear the other patrons murmuring, could feel their stares against the back of her neck. So much for avoiding notice.

  She pulled free of Lucia’s grip as soon as they reached the street. “Are you trying to destroy our cover?” Lucia whispered.

  Naya glared at Lucia. “No. Are you?”

  “Of course not. But you shouldn’t have followed me. You had no right.”

  “Oh? Then what were you doing there?” Naya asked.

  Lucia glanced over her shoulder. They’d walked a ways down the street, and so far it seemed no one had left the café to follow them. “I was doing what I had to. If I cut all ties after your resurrection, it would only draw more suspicion.”

  “What does that have to do with you asking about missing Talmirans? And who was that woman you were talking with?”

  “She’s no one,” Lucia said, perhaps a little too quickly. “Our conversation had nothing to do with you. You can assure your
master that I’ll hold to our deal. He’s made his threats perfectly clear.”

  Hearing the grim note in Lucia’s tone almost made Naya feel bad for the necromancer. She obviously didn’t like their situation any more than Naya did. But that was all the more reason to watch her closely.

  “Why ask about them if it doesn’t have anything to do with our business?” Naya asked, trying to add a hint of Celia’s stern certainty to her voice.

  Lucia spun to face her, her teeth flashing in the beginning of a snarl. “Why do you care? Haven’t you people demanded enough of me already? I brought you back from death. I’ve lied to everyone I care about to protect your secrets, and I’ve put up with your childish whining. But none of the ambassador’s orders involve allowing you to prod into every corner of my personal life.”

  Naya shuffled back a step. Lucia’s aether was dark and heavy. It seemed to settle over Naya’s shoulders, dragging her toward the dirty pavement. Her own anger sputtered under the weight of those emotions, leaving her feeling trapped and afraid. She looked away from Lucia. “Just remember, if you betray us, the ambassador will find out.”

  The words had sounded more menacing in her head, but they seemed to do the trick anyway. Lucia wrapped her arms across her chest. “I know.” She turned away, walking back toward her shop.

  Unease and guilt warred in Naya’s chest as she watched Lucia go. Despite her slumped shoulders and fear, the necromancer hadn’t actually answered her question.

  When the day of her meeting with Celia arrived, Naya found herself wishing for another week, or even another dozen weeks, before she’d have to face the older spy’s scrutinizing gaze. But ready or not, it was time to prove she could help with her father’s mission.

  Naya waited in the morning dark on a corner one block west of Lucia’s shop. She wore a shawl over her hair and carried a big woven basket with sturdy handles. She kept her eyes down but extended her senses through the aether to ensure no one snuck up on her unannounced. After several minutes, footsteps tapped the pavement to her right. She felt the aether shift, like a cool breeze bringing the smell of snow on a winter’s morning. For an instant it filled her with a sense of stillness and quiet confidence. Naya spun and saw Celia eyeing her from a few feet away. She was dressed as Naya was, in the plain skirt, blouse, and shawl of a servant. “You’re early,” Celia said.

  “I wanted to make sure I’d be ready when you came.” It was still at least a quarter of an hour before fifth morning bell. Even the most dedicated nighttime revelers had taken to their beds and the morning crowd hadn’t yet surfaced.

  Celia peered at her in the dim light. “I still see the face of a dead merchant girl.”

  “I haven’t learned how to change my features yet.” She’d sat alone every night with a mirror and tried to force her features into new shapes. Once or twice she’d thought she saw them shift. But every time the change reverted in the space of a blink.

  Celia’s frown deepened. “I see. Then maybe I was wrong in telling Valn you could be useful.”

  “That isn’t fair. I’ve learned the other things you asked. I can use the sight now, and I know how to spot rune bindings. I’ll learn how to change my face. I just need more time.”

  “And do you think our enemies will sheath their blades just because something isn’t fair to you?”

  “No, but you can’t expect…”

  “I’ll expect what I please.” Celia twitched her shawl tighter. “However, for what I intend today your face may not be such a great issue. Follow me, and keep your shawl up at least.”

  “Where are we going?” Naya asked.

  Celia glared over her shoulder. “To the markets. Where else would two servants be going at this hour?”

  “Okay,” Naya said as she caught up with Celia. “Why are we going to the markets?”

  “To buy provisions for our masters. And perhaps on the way we will pass certain residences and you may or may not note where they’ve scribed their rune wards.”

  They walked quietly for a few blocks. Naya gathered her courage. “There’s something you should know,” she said.

  “Hmm?” Celia asked.

  “The other night, Lucia went out. Late. I followed her and saw her meet with another woman at a café full of undead. Lucia asked the woman about the missing Talmirans. I wasn’t able to hear everything they said, but it seemed strange.”

  “Ah. I see you didn’t trust me when I said our master had the means to control her.”

  “It isn’t that. I just…She’s a necromancer.”

  Celia snorted. “Yes, she is a necromancer. And you are someone who promised she could follow orders. I told you to keep your head down.” She met Naya’s eyes and her gaze softened. “It is useful to know Laroke is asking questions, but our master did not have you brought back so you could watch her. Do you understand?”

  Naya nodded reluctantly.

  “Good. Then come with me and we’ll see if you’ve learned enough to be useful.”

  Celia led her to the end of the block, where they boarded a tram for the lower city. Naya’s anticipation rose like a tide, washing away her doubts as the tram rattled down the hill. She was ready to prove her worth. She had to be.

  More people boarded the tram as they approached the docks. By the time they reached the waterside, the car was nearly full and the sky behind the hills was gray with dawn. Naya had expected Celia to take her to Market Street, the wide boulevard where the city’s most prominent shops were located. Instead they walked along the docks, past warehouses whose fronts were blocked by stalls selling salt, spices, pickled vegetables, and fish, all fresh off the ships. Naya peeked at the big trading vessels anchored in the harbor. The Gallant wasn’t there. She hadn’t expected to see it, but the certainty of its absence still brought a stab of disappointment.

  They moved with the flow of the crowd, past other women dressed as they were and a few men who looked like butlers out placing orders for their masters’ kitchens. Children wove through the crowd, some of the older ones hawking newspapers, and hungry-eyed beggars stared from the outer edges of the market. The air was pungent with the smells of food and rot and the ever-present scent of the ocean. Naya could feel energy building around her as people stomped their feet and shook off sleep, preparing for the day’s work.

  Celia stopped here and there, occasionally dropping a small parcel into her basket or into Naya’s, but more often scheduling orders to be delivered back at the embassy. She paid from a heavy pouch stuffed with the triangular tin coins that were the most common currency in Ceramor. At one time Ceramor had used gold and silver coins like those common in Talmir. But those metals had grown scarce as the Crown struggled to pay off the debts imposed by the Treaty of Lith Lor.

  As they neared the end of a row of stalls, Celia dropped a few coins into a beggar’s cup. The grizzled old man smiled and grasped her hand in thanks. Naya just caught a glimpse of white paper passing from the man’s hand to Celia’s. Celia tucked the paper away without looking at it, then gestured for Naya to follow her down a side street.

  “That building there. Tell me what you see,” Celia muttered.

  Naya glanced at the house. It was of average height with no balconies. Simple grates covered the lower windows, and the walls were painted a muted robin’s-egg blue. It didn’t look like anywhere important, but when Naya concentrated she spotted a double set of runes glowing on the doorway and the front stoop. They looked a little like the alarm runes warding Lucia’s door. Naya described them as best she could, making sure to note the exact locations of the bindings.

  “I see,” Celia muttered after Naya finished describing the runes.

  They continued down the street, and Celia picked out three more houses for Naya to examine. By the time Naya finished, Celia’s lips were curled into something that looked like it might actually be a smile. “Well, it seems you can learn. The wardin
gs on the Gallroth house are tricky to pick out, or so I am told.”

  “You already knew where they were?”

  “Of course. You think me a fool who would give a test I didn’t already have answers for? Follow me. These next houses we haven’t been able to scout for some time. I am very curious to see what you can learn of their defenses.”

  The sun had risen above the hills by the time they finished their work. Naya squinted at the hazy blue sky. Not yet midday and already it was getting hot. “You did well,” Celia said as they approached the corner where Naya would board the tram that would take her back to Lucia’s shop.

  Naya wrinkled her nose. She’d found runes at six of the seven houses Celia had taken her past. The last one had seemed grand, exactly the sort of place she’d expect would have magical defenses, but she’d found nothing. “I still think I must have missed something at—”

  Celia cut her off with a wave of one hand. “It would have taken a week of careful investigation to learn what you’ve told me with a morning’s watching. You did well.”

  A smile tugged at Naya’s mouth in response to the unexpected praise. “Why those houses?” she asked. She half thought Celia would dismiss the question. Instead the older woman glanced around, then leaned in closer.

  “Let us say that the residents are some of the more enthusiastic supporters of necromancy—financiers and politicians who would gladly see the Treaty of Lith Lor abolished. Our master was curious to know if any of them had increased their defenses since last we checked,” Celia said softly.

  “And have they?”

  “They have indeed.”

  “Why?”

  Naya caught a glint in Celia’s eyes. “That is a very good question.”