Twice Dead

by Caitlin Seal

  Slowly, her mind refocused. Cool paving stones pressed against her. Waves slapped softly on the shore not far to her right. The air stank of fish and rotting vegetables. Naya dragged herself to hands and knees, then leaned back against the rough brick wall of a warehouse and carefully drew in more aether. The pain in her hand faded a little. She glanced back the way she’d come. So far as she could tell, the nearby streets were silent and empty.

  She’d done it. She’d gotten away. She’d gotten the man into the carriage. That had been the goal, hadn’t it? She should have felt happy, or at least relieved. But her mind filled with images of the boy, his chest a bloody gaping hole. She wanted to throw up, but there wasn’t anything to throw up, no relief for the sickness pulsing through her. She rubbed her hands against her pants, trying to wipe away the worst of the blood and grime.

  The carriage driver had shot the boy without hesitation. The scene played again and again in her head. Blood spurting out, hot and metallic. The look in the boy’s eyes. The cloud of fear surrounding him as he fell. Who was he? She shouldn’t feel sorry for him. He’d been her enemy. He’d been attacking her, no matter how pathetic that attack had seemed at the time. And besides, someone would surely have him resurrected. It wasn’t as though he’d stay dead.

  Of course, he might not have died at all if she hadn’t been so useless. If she’d gotten the old man out faster, then maybe the carriage driver wouldn’t have shot the boy. Or if she’d managed to warn Celia about the guards, maybe they could have escaped without waking anyone. Naya extracted the bone rune from her pocket and glared at it. Too slow. Always too slow. With a growl of frustration, she forced aether into the runes. Her bones ached in protest, but she ignored the pain, drawing more energy and feeding it into the runes. The bone disk vibrated harder and harder until it exploded with a loud crack. Shards flew in every direction, snagging her clothes and bouncing off the wall behind her.

  Naya stared at her palm. A few of the shards had embedded themselves in her hand. Shame singed her cheeks as she thought about what might have happened if she’d been holding the disk in her left hand instead of her right. She let her palm turn transparent, and the shards clattered to the stones.

  She closed her eyes, trying to figure out what to do next. As she did, a new fear whispered for attention. She touched the scarf that had fallen around her neck when she’d caught the old man.

  The boy had seen her face. Not Blue’s face, but the one she wore every day while working in Lucia’s shop. If they resurrected him, and she was certain they would, he would tell everyone about the girl he’d seen. The city guard would spread the description, and sooner or later Corten and Lucia would hear it. The thought of Corten learning what she’d done hit her like a kick to the stomach.

  She couldn’t let that happen. Naya pushed herself to her feet, leaning against the rough wall. She tried to force the sickness back. She needed to stop panicking and think. Had Celia and the others gotten out? She knew she’d seen at least one other person fleeing. If they were still free, then they would probably scatter among the network’s safe houses. Naya only knew of the one at Selleno’s house, and it didn’t seem a good idea to run around the city looking for others. The earliest she could hope for information would be tomorrow. By then someone should have reported back to Valn at the embassy.

  She examined her dirty clothes. She needed a plan. She couldn’t undo what had happened at the house. Something had gone wrong inside. Someone had sounded an alarm, and that boy had seen her face.

  But it would be a couple of days before anyone could resurrect him. Even then there was a chance the boy wouldn’t be able to give a clear description. It had been dark outside the house and he’d had only a few seconds to see her before the bullet stopped him. She had to get to safety, then get in touch with Valn or Celia or someone before the boy was resurrected. They would know what to do.

  Naya looked up at the stars, which were just visible through a ragged layer of high clouds. Celia had gotten out or she hadn’t. The mission had succeeded or it hadn’t. The boy would remember her or he wouldn’t. She locked the image of him, confused and scared while his life pumped out through his gaping chest, away in a box. Then she imagined shoving that box into the farthest corner of her mind.

  Naya walked back to Lucia’s shop, feeling as tired and miserable as she had when she’d first learned her father had abandoned her in Ceramor. Then, a block from her destination, she sensed something strange in the aether. She paused. Normally aether drifted and swirled through the city like a fine glowing mist. But here it flowed purposefully toward Lucia’s shop.

  The singing. How had she forgotten? Inside the workroom, Lucia would be using her magic to tear a hole between the living world and the void. Through the song she’d guide the dead girl’s soul toward the rift, then bind the girl to her bones. Naya took a step back. The pull of the rift would probably be even worse inside. She didn’t want to feel the touch of death’s black tides, didn’t even want to think about it. Especially not when she’d seen someone else thrown into that place only hours ago.

  Naya steadied herself against a nearby wall. Singing or no, she needed to get inside and change out of these clothes—then destroy them—before anyone came looking for her. She gathered her courage and hurried on. She unlocked the back door and eased it open, peering into the dark hall that connected the stairs and the workroom.

  Inside, Lucia sang. The rising and falling notes formed strange chords that seemed to linger in the air. Naya didn’t recognize the words, but she could guess their meaning. Come, come to me. She clenched her jaw and slunk toward the stairs. As she passed the workroom doorway, she glimpsed Lucia sitting cross-legged on the floor. Flickering oil lamps illuminated the runes chalked on the stone in front of her. In the center of those runes, the portal between life and death made the air shimmer and writhe. The color leached from Naya’s sight as she tore her gaze away from the scene. The portal’s tug was like a thousand tiny hands clutching at her. It was as though something lurking on the other side had noticed her and sought to pull her back through.

  Five steps between her and the stairs, then three. The tug lessened as she started to climb. By the time she got to her room, it was no worse than a persistent whisper. Unsettling but hopefully not dangerous. Naya flexed her sore hand, winced, then began peeling off her soiled clothes.

  She passed the night in a half trance, drawing in aether in sips and running her fingers over the glass bird Corten had given her. She tried to keep her thoughts from straying back to the night’s chaos, instead imagining gulls calling above the sunny docks where she used to play when she was small.

  Lucia’s song stopped sometime around midmorning. For a long while there was silence, broken only by the soft sounds of Lucia moving in the shop below. Naya listened with growing frustration. She needed to get to the furnace and burn her bloody clothes, but she couldn’t go downstairs with Lucia there.

  Voices murmured below. Another minute dragged by and the stairs creaked.

  “Blue?” Lucia asked through her door.

  Naya considered not answering, but antagonizing Lucia further seemed pointless. She had bigger things to worry about. “What?”

  “Come here, please.” The last word sounded hesitant, almost apologetic.

  Naya glanced down at herself. Even after changing, she half expected to see flecks of blood stuck to her hands and her hair—or maybe smeared onto the fresh clothes from the old. But she’d been careful. Her skin and dress showed no sign of the night’s activities.

  Lucia stood in the hallway, holding the hand of a pretty young girl. “This is Jesla,” Lucia said. “Jesla, this is Blue.”

  The girl cocked her head to one side as she stared up at Naya. Naya struggled to reconcile the curiosity in the girl’s expression with the inanimate, battered corpse of the day before. “Hello,” she managed, not sure what else to say.

  �
�Hello,” Jesla said.

  “Jesla is adjusting very well, but I want you to keep an eye on her for a few hours while I rest.”

  “I said I don’t need—” the little girl began.

  “Once I’ve recovered,” Lucia continued over the objections, “I can send a messenger for her parents.” Lucia’s eyes drooped. She must have been awake since the girl’s body was brought to them. “Will you do this?”

  Anger kindled in Naya’s chest as she remembered their last conversation. “Are you sure you trust me getting involved?”

  Lucia’s lips pressed thin, as though she were struggling to hold back her reply. Naya waited, almost eager to hear her yell. But when Lucia spoke, her tone was soft and carefully devoid of emotion. “I misspoke last night. We all do what we must. Right now this girl should not be alone.”

  Guilt dampened Naya’s anger. Lucia was obviously trying to hide her exhaustion, but she looked ready to drop.

  “I can watch her.” It would give her an excuse to stay inside for a few hours. Maybe by then she could figure out what to do next.

  “Thank you. Jesla, be a good girl and do as Blue tells you.” Lucia let go of Jesla’s hand and gave her a gentle shove toward Naya. Then she was off, shutting the door to her bedroom firmly behind her.

  Jesla rocked from her toes to her heels and back again. Lucia had clothed her in a smock-like dress. Too big by half, it fell all the way to the floor and hung lopsided over one shoulder. She stared expectantly at Naya, who felt the sudden, almost irresistible urge to look at her own feet. What was she supposed to do with the girl now? “How are you feeling?” she asked after an awkward silence.

  Jesla shrugged, continuing to stare at her.

  “Okay, well, if you start feeling bad, let me know and we can wake Lucia.”

  Jesla nodded, then after a pause said, “Blue is a pretty name.”

  “I…thanks.” Naya tried to think of something else to say. She’d never been much good with children.

  Jesla picked at a stray thread on her oversize dress. She was probably still buzzing with energy from the initial binding. How much had Lucia explained to her? How much would she already know from growing up among wraiths and other resurrected in Belavine? More important, what was Naya supposed to do with the girl until her parents could take her home? She might not know much, but the necromancer’s shop didn’t seem like a good place for a child.

  “Is that your room? Can I see?” Jesla peeked around Naya’s skirt. Her eyes fixed on the glass bird sitting next to the chest. “What’s that? Can I hold it?”

  “No!” Naya said, more loudly than she’d intended.

  Jesla’s eyes widened and her lower lip trembled. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  Naya cursed herself silently. “It’s fine. Why don’t we go downstairs?”

  Jesla’s brows furrowed as she glanced at the stairs. “Okay.”

  They walked together down to the workroom, but Jesla paused in the doorway. “Is something wrong?” Naya asked.

  Jesla shook her head, making her brown curls swing. Naya stepped into the workroom, but Jesla didn’t follow. She stared at her feet, one hand twisting the fabric of her dress. “Do you think my mama and papa are coming here?” she asked.

  Naya crouched in front of the girl. “Miss Lucia said she’d send for them when she wakes up, remember?” Maybe Naya could send for them now. The girl seemed fine, and Naya needed to get in touch with the others and learn what had happened last night. Valn and Celia still treated her like a child, giving her only whatever scraps of information they thought were relevant to her next task. She had to figure out how to change that. If she’d known more last night, maybe she could have stopped things from going so wrong.

  “Oh, okay,” Jesla said, still sounding unhappy.

  Why had Lucia demanded they keep the girl here, anyway? She’d said something about possible complications. But if the girl needed watching, why not summon her parents to keep her company? Not that Naya wanted more strangers in the shop, but having them there would have surely lessened the girl’s unease. Naya was beginning to regret saying yes to Lucia’s request. Last night’s memories rattled in the back of her mind, threatening to break their locks and trap her. She wanted to curl up and hide, or run to the embassy and demand answers. But Jesla was staring at her expectantly. Naya couldn’t just leave her alone. “Is there anything you want to do?” she asked.

  Jesla looked up and Naya followed her gaze to the bookshelves. “Read me a story?”

  Naya bit her lip. She knew those books contained anatomical diagrams, runes, philosophical debates about the void and the energy of souls. “Why don’t I tell you a story instead?”

  “What kind of story?”

  “An adventure story?”

  “Like with battles and stuff?” Jesla asked, excitement glimmering in her eyes.

  Naya smiled. “This one has pirates.”

  Jesla seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded. “I like pirates.”

  The stools by the counter were too tall for Jesla, so Naya led her to the stairs and they both sat down on the first step. Jesla squeezed in right next to Naya, her brown eyes wide and expectant.

  Naya leaned back and tried to remember the old stories her mother had told when she was little. “Today I’m going to tell you the story of Lady Elza Thorn. She was a great explorer who lived a long time ago. Her ship was the Dancing Bird, and she and her loyal crew sailed all over, discovering new places and having many adventures. This story is about her greatest voyage, when she found the lost islands of Shal Rok and defeated the pirate king Andres, winning his ships and his heart.” Naya was surprised how easily the words resurfaced from the fog of memory once she began. Her mind conjured up the dense jungles of Shal Rok, the fire of the sea battles, and the gleam of buried treasure as brightly as it had when she’d been young.

  She’d just gotten to the part where Elza strode across the deck of Andres’s flagship to accept his surrender when there came a knock at the door. Naya looked up, blinking. The knock came again, loud enough to rattle the door in its frame. It was not the sort of knock that announced good news.

  Jesla must have seen some of Naya’s apprehension. “Do you think it’s my parents?” she asked uneasily.

  Naya stood and gave Jesla a reassuring smile. “Maybe. Wait here a minute.” She reached into the aether as she approached the door, but she couldn’t sense anyone on the other side. Naya frowned. Could it be? She pulled open the door and saw Corten standing outside, one hand raised to knock again.

  “Blue? Thank the Creator. Can I…Who’s that?”

  Naya turned to see Jesla peeking out from behind her. “This is Jesla. She’s the patient I told you about earlier.”

  “Who are you?” Jesla asked.

  “I’m a friend of Blue’s.” Corten’s eyes met Naya’s, and the worry in his face made her insides go cold. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Jesla, would you mind waiting here while I go talk to my friend?” Naya asked.

  “What about the story?”

  “I’ll tell you more later,” Naya said. Corten glanced over his shoulder like he was looking for someone, or like he was worried someone might have followed him.

  “I guess.” Jesla glared at Corten suspiciously, but she didn’t try to follow them as they retreated upstairs to Naya’s room.

  “What is it?” Naya asked, thinking she knew and praying she was wrong.

  “Have you gone outside at all today?” Corten asked. Naya shook her head.

  Corten dragged his fingers through his hair. “Right. Well, somebody kidnapped Salno Delence last night.”

  Naya raised her eyebrows in what she hoped looked like mild curiosity. “Who?” She’d heard that name before, but Blue wouldn’t know about the most notorious politician in Ceramor. From everything she’d heard, he practically ran Ceramo
r from behind the throne.

  “He’s one of King Allence’s advisers. His house was attacked last night. Delence’s son was killed and Delence is missing. The city guard think at least one of the kidnappers was a wraith.” Naya’s heart sank. Delence’s son. That explained the fervor in the boy’s eyes when he’d attacked.

  Naya reached for her necklace. “Why are you telling me this?” Could he already suspect her involvement?

  “The king sent guards to question wraiths all over the city. Matius and I already had to deal with half a squad inspecting the shop and asking questions. It’s only a matter of time before they come here.” His expression darkened. “I know you haven’t kept it a secret that you’re from Talmir, so—”

  “I didn’t do anything!” The words tasted bitter. But if Corten put the pieces together now, she was doomed.

  Corten raised one hand. “I never said you did. But think about how this looks. You haven’t been in the city very long, so maybe you haven’t seen it. But whenever something like this happens, everyone always blames us. They assume because we can reach through walls or disguise our faces, we’re all untrustworthy. We have to talk to Lucia. They might search the shop. If she has any notes about your bond, we need to make sure she hides them or, better yet, destroys them.”

  He didn’t suspect her. He’d come to warn her, to protect her. The realization made her feel both horribly guilty and relieved at the same time.

  “Blue, did you hear me?”

  Naya nodded, but she wasn’t thinking about Lucia’s notes. Now that her initial terror was fading, something felt wrong. Why hadn’t anyone else come to warn her about the search? Could the other agents not know what was going on? It seemed unlikely. I need to get to the embassy. Need to find out what happened to Celia. But first she had to get rid of those clothes. If the guard showed up and found them, they’d arrest both her and Lucia. Naya wasn’t about to let that happen.