by Caitlin Seal
Past the narrow strip of flatlands surrounding the port, the roads followed the geometry of the hills, twisting like rivers around obstacles rather than adhering to a grid. It was nothing like her home city of Lith Lor, where white houses rose in orderly rows along every street. That city was built on a flat clifftop overlooking the sea. Fresh breezes always blew through the streets, cooling the air and carrying away the less appealing smells of the city. Naya couldn’t remember how many times she’d snuck away from the academy to sit on the cliffs and stare at the ocean, lost in dreams of the day when she could sail away and explore foreign places.
Corten paused at a plaza far wider and better maintained than the one near Matius’s shop. A group of children played outside a small school on the far side, but otherwise she and Corten were alone. Through a gap in the buildings, Naya could see all the way down to the docks. Many-colored houses spilled down the slope. They looked like toy blocks piled up against the glittering edge of the bay. Even with her thoughts still filled with images of Lith Lor, Naya had to admit the view was impressive.
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me—about Lucia buying your contract, that is.” Corten ran his fingers through his black curls. “Honestly, I half expected to hear you’d run away from her.”
Naya crossed her arms and turned away from the vista. Corten’s expression was tense. “Why would I run? Even if I could get away, it wouldn’t undo what happened. And without knowing anything I’d never be able to hide what I am.” There were days when the thought of fleeing was so tempting that Naya felt the presence of the docks like an anchor tied to her chest. But the things she wanted to run from couldn’t be escaped with a change of location.
“So you do plan to run, just after I’ve taught you what you need?”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not fishing for information to help Lucia.” Corten seemed to consider something for a moment, looking out at the bay. “I don’t think what she did to you was fair.”
“Why? I thought you said resurrecting people was doing the Creator’s work.” It was hard to keep the edge from her voice.
“It is. Usually anyway.”
His words sent a chill through her. “What do you mean?”
Corten glanced around. “See those kids over there?” he asked with a nod to the group playing on the other side of the plaza.
Naya’s brow furrowed. “What do they have to do with anything?”
“Can you sense the emotions in their aether? Without moving any closer, I mean.”
“Of course,” Naya said. When she focused, it wasn’t hard to reach out and feel the bright joy swirling around the children. “Why?”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. What is this about?”
Corten shoved his hands into his pockets. “You shouldn’t be able to distinguish their emotions from the city’s pulse. There’s a limit to how far away a wraith can reach. Your range is a lot farther out than it should be.” He paused. More questions came to Naya’s mind, but she held them back, waiting for him to continue. A part of her hoped he wouldn’t.
“It could be I’m just making soldiers from mist,” Corten finally said. “But I felt it when you first drew aether. You pulled so much so fast that I thought for sure you were going to crack your bond. I told myself maybe I’d imagined it, but then Lucia was acting so strangely, and if your range is really that much longer than mine…” He took a deep breath. “Then there’s something I want to test.”
Naya took a step back. “Lucia already tested my bond. She says I’m fine.”
“Just bear with me. This won’t take long.” Corten pulled a palm-size metal disk from his pocket. “Do you know what this is?”
“Some sort of rune device?”
Corten nodded, then turned the outer rim of the disk to align the runes. The disk began to glow. Little wisps of aether drifted toward the runes like glowing mist curling into an open window. “I want you to try something.” Corten held the disk out in front of him and pointed at one of the runes. “You know how rune devices tend to break after a while? That happens because the process of converting aether stresses the rune plates and causes them to warp or crack. No matter what you’re converting the energy to—heat, or light, or kinetics—the more aether the device absorbs, the faster the binding breaks down.”
Corten paused, and Naya nodded her understanding. He gave her a tense smile, then continued. “This is the taos rune.” He pointed to a rune in the center of the disk, tracing the spots where its lines overlapped to connect with the other runes radiating out along the edges. “Taos is always the center of a binding because it’s the only rune that attracts aether. It’s also the weakest point. I want you to try pushing aether into it. See if you can break it.”
Naya frowned. “How am I supposed to push aether?”
“It’s not so different from drawing it in. It’s like breathing in and out, just two halves of the same process.”
Naya reached for the metal disk but Corten took a step back. “No, try doing it from there.”
“Why?”
“Just try.” Corten’s fingers tightened around the disk.
Naya glared at him. He was hiding something, dodging her questions while demanding answers from her. Only her curiosity kept her from turning around and leaving him and his stupid disk alone. Could she break a rune binding without even touching it? She’d never heard of anything like that, but after her outing with Celia it was hard to deny that such a skill would be useful.
She focused on the rune Corten had indicated. Aether did seem to concentrate in the center of the disk. The runes around the outer edge glowed with ordinary white light, but the taos rune was illuminated only by the wispy blue of aether flowing through it. She drew in a breath of aether and watched it swirl away from the amulet. For a moment the runes dimmed, then more aether flowed toward them, like water filling a hollow. Like breathing out, huh? She breathed out and tried to imagine pushing the energy away. Her arms and legs grew suddenly heavy, and a tired fuzziness filled her head. Aether concentrated around the disk, but otherwise nothing happened. Naya scowled. She pushed out again, this time imagining the aether swirling in a tight spiral to collide with the taos rune. The energy continued to drain from her, making the world spin. Just as she thought she would have to give up or else collapse into a pile of nothing, the disk glowed brighter.
Naya tried to rally her efforts, but it was no use. She couldn’t keep going. She dropped her focus and drew in more aether. Her weakness vanished, leaving only an uncomfortable twinge in her hand. When she looked up, Corten was still staring at the disk. “I couldn’t do it,” she said.
Corten shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean? If it doesn’t matter, then why bother trying?”
“You may not have broken it, but you came close. Did you see how the light flashed brighter at the end?” Corten tucked the disk back into his pocket. He looked shaken. “Have you ever heard of the reapers?”
Naya fought off a shudder. “Just stories. Nightmare tales to scare little kids.”
“Well, at least some of those stories were probably true. Near the end of the war, King Sallent tried to lift the old laws against experimentation. He commanded his necromancers to find new ways to bind wraiths, anything that could make the returned more powerful. The wraiths they brought back could do things nobody had seen before. They could manipulate aether at a distance, concentrate and convert it in ways normal wraiths never could. They could—”
King Sallent, the Mad King. “Stop,” Naya whispered as she realized what he was implying. Reapers were the stuff of her people’s nightmares. Wraiths that could muster the strength of a dozen men, roast soldiers in their armor with a thought, or create blinding light from empty air. “You’re wrong. Even if the reapers did exist, the experimental
runes were all destroyed. The Mad King’s necromancers were killed.” Naya wanted to run away or cover her ears, but Corten’s words left her rooted in place.
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean the knowledge was lost,” Corten said. “The way I’ve heard it, only a few reapers were successfully resurrected, and that was near the very end of the war. The man responsible for making them was named Renor Marotin. He died during the surrender, but the stories say one of his apprentices managed to flee south and evade capture. It took more than a year before the Talmirans finally caught her. Who knows what she did during that time? Maybe she passed on her master’s secrets.”
Naya shook her head. “So you think Lucia found this lost apprentice’s notes and used them to make me a reaper? That’s madness!”
“I don’t know how she found the runes for a reaper binding. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe you’re something new. But what you just did isn’t possible for an ordinary wraith.”
Naya took a moment to steady her nerves, trying to ignore the horror of what Corten was suggesting. Was it possible? It could explain why Lucia was always watching her so intently. Naya had assumed it was because Lucia didn’t trust Valn or his spies, but maybe she was more interested in tracking the results of her experiment.
She met Corten’s eyes. As badly as she wanted to dismiss his claims, she didn’t think he was lying. In the time she’d known him, he’d been kind to her. He’d helped her even when she’d lashed out at him. She didn’t believe him cruel enough to make a joke of something so awful. “Let’s pretend for a moment that I believe you. What you’re describing would violate the Treaty of Lith Lor. Why are you telling me about it instead of turning me in?”
“Because it isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask to be this. Lucia just decided to use you because…I don’t even know why. Maybe she thought it would be safer, since a Talmiran wouldn’t notice the signs.”
Naya’s brow creased. “If that’s true, then why risk sending me to you at all?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe she didn’t think I’d notice either. Or she knew I wouldn’t risk both your lives by turning her in.”
That might explain why Lucia had sent her to Corten specifically, but not why she’d risked involving an outsider. Naya thought back to the conversation she’d overheard in the café. Lucia was definitely up to something.
Sunlight reflected off the brightly painted houses and the shimmering expanse of the bay. On the other side of the plaza, the children let out a shout as one girl held up a scrap of red cloth, triumph flooding off her in waves. Naya met Corten’s eyes. “So, what are you going to do?”
Corten slumped onto the paving stones and ran both hands through his hair. “I have no idea.”
Naya stepped away from Corten. The bright sunlight had lost its warmth, and the children’s laughter now sounded more menacing than joyous. A reaper. Could it really be true? If Corten had noticed, then would others see it as well?
“I have to go,” Naya said.
“Wait!” Corten scrambled to his feet. He reached out, but stopped just short of grabbing her arm. “Blue, please.”
Naya shook her head, backing away from him. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem. Just forget you ever met me.”
“I won’t!” The certainty in his tone stopped her.
“Why?” Naya glanced around, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper. “You said it yourself—if you’re right, then even being around me is dangerous.”
“I know. But there’s something wrong about all this. Let me come back with you. I know Lucia. I’ll make her tell us why she did this. After that…I don’t know, we’ll figure something out.”
“No!” She couldn’t let him confront Lucia. Who knew what the necromancer might let slip? Naya squeezed her eyes shut. Celia had told her not to draw attention to herself, and here she was exposing secrets she hadn’t even known existed. Creator, she had to be the worst spy who’d ever lived. “No,” she repeated in what she hoped was a calmer tone. “I’m not sure how Miss Lucia will react if she finds out we know. Please, for now just promise me you won’t tell anyone else about this?”
“I promise. But what are you going to do?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I just need some time to figure this out.”
Corten took a step back. He still looked like he wanted to object, but after a moment he nodded. “Okay. Why don’t you come by the shop tomorrow? We can talk more then.”
“Tomorrow,” Naya said, though her voice sounded small and far away in her own ears. She turned and hurried away before Corten could ask anything else. She felt numb as she walked back to Lucia’s shop, her thoughts too tangled to sort through. Lucia was in the workroom by the time Naya made it back. She gave Naya a suspicious look as she trudged inside.
“Where were you?” Lucia asked.
Naya stared at the necromancer. “That’s none of your business.” Had this woman really risked her soul with forbidden experiments? The thought made Naya’s insides churn.
Lucia pressed her lips into a thin line, then looked away. “Of course. My mistake.” The aether around her was rough with frustration, but Naya didn’t think she’d raised the woman’s suspicion. No more than usual anyway. Naya retreated to the back of the workroom and pulled Sellencio’s Aether and Will from its spot on the bookshelf. It took less than an hour of skimming to confirm what Corten had told her: no normal wraith should be able to push aether into a taos rune without touching it. That didn’t necessarily prove she was a reaper, but it did prove Lucia had tampered with illegal runes when she created Naya’s bond.
Why would she do such a thing? Why would Ambassador Valn support it? The simplest answer was that he wouldn’t. It didn’t make sense to violate the same treaty he was working to protect. And her father would sink the Gallant and himself with it before he agreed to something like this. That had to mean they didn’t know about the illegal runes. Lucia had tricked Valn when she’d brought Naya back. She’d done it out of spite. Or she’d seen Naya’s death as an opportunity to experiment on an unwitting victim.
Naya forced herself to draw in a careful breath of aether, feeling the steady pulse of the city around her. Fear chewed at the edges of her thoughts, threatening to consume her. She didn’t dare report this to Valn. If he knew what Naya was, he might decide the risk of keeping her around was too great. It wasn’t illegal to resurrect a Talmiran, but if anyone learned that their ambassador had been involved with forbidden necromancy…well, it would unravel all the work they’d done to protect the treaty.
Naya didn’t want to risk the mission, but she also didn’t want to die for it. Again. She’d have to find a way to keep the truth hidden. Lucia wasn’t likely to expose them, not when it would put her own head on the chopping block. But how could she trust Corten with such a secret?
Naya was still grappling with that question when night fell. Lucia locked up the shop and retreated upstairs. Naya waited a few minutes before following. She paused on the stairs, listened, then reached into the aether. The energy around Lucia’s bedroom was fuzzy with the beginning of sleep. Worry hung like bad breath, but Naya didn’t sense anything that suggested the necromancer would be going out that night.
She slipped into her own room, a closet-like space with a slanted ceiling and only a chest and narrow bed for furnishings. Moonlight spilled in through the window’s open shutters, casting the room in shades of black and gray. Naya paced from the door to the window, then back again. Possibilities and half-formed plans spun through her mind, but none offered a solution. She slumped onto the narrow bed with a growl of frustration, then froze when a flash of motion outside the window caught her attention. A moment later a hand appeared and knocked hesitantly at the glass. Naya stared at the window, wondering if she’d gone mad.
The hand knocked again, louder this time. Naya searched the room for a weapon, then snatched up the he
avy book she’d brought from downstairs. She held it awkwardly in one hand as she approached the window. At first all she saw was darkness and the wall of the next building over. But as she scooted to one side she spotted a figure crouching on the roof next to the window.
“Corten?” Naya lowered the book. When she met his eyes, Corten’s mouth turned up in a cautious smile.
Naya unlatched the window and swung it partway open. “What are you doing?” she asked. The initial shock of finding someone lurking on the roof outside her window was fast replaced by anger. She’d told him to stay away.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay?” His tone was hesitant, making it sound more like a question than an explanation.
Some irrational part of Naya wanted to smile at that, but she quickly pushed it down. “So you climbed onto the roof and started banging on windows?”
Corten looked away. “Not windows. Just one. This used to be my room back when I apprenticed with Lucia. I figured it was good odds she’d put you here, and I didn’t want to knock on the front door because I thought Lucia would just send me away.”
Naya stared at him. She wanted to hold on to her anger. Corten was a wraith, and a former necromancer’s apprentice besides. She hardly knew him, but he held a secret that could easily destroy her. “Well, you can see I’m fine,” she said briskly.
Corten smiled again, and there was something bright and earnest behind it when he met her eyes. Naya’s anger sputtered. “I’m glad,” he said. “And I’m sorry about this afternoon. I was so caught up in figuring out what Lucia had done that I didn’t really think about how it would feel for you to learn something like that. So, uh, I understand if you’re scared, or mad at me, but I wanted you to know that I’m still willing to help.”
“You’ll still teach me?” Naya asked, searching his face for any sign of deceit.
“I will. My bond isn’t like yours, but I know a lot about the theory behind necromancy.”
