by Caitlin Seal
“They told me Lucia was here,” Alejandra said as she burst into the room. Her dress was torn and stained, and her hair had fallen out of her bun to hang like the tentacles of some dead sea monster.
“Ali?” Lucia’s face lit up. She sat up and looked like she was about to attempt standing, but Alejandra reached her first. She wrapped her arms around Lucia, her movements careful and light, as though she feared she might break something. Lucia rested her head against Alejandra’s neck and closed her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” Alejandra said. “I should have foreseen the trap. I should have found a smarter way to get to you. But when I heard they were going to execute you, I couldn’t think.” Her voice choked off.
“Shh,” Lucia whispered, patting Alejandra’s hair. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”
Alejandra leaned back a little, then planted a kiss on Lucia’s lips. “Me too. I promise I’ll kill the next person who tries to take you from me.”
Naya tried to ignore the surge of jealousy that rose in her as Alejandra’s hand slid down to squeeze Lucia’s undamaged fingers. “How did you get out?” she asked.
“Delence took back control of the palace,” Alejandra said. “He got a message through that the Banians had agreed to defend Ceramor. He offered amnesty to anyone who helped apprehend Valn. Most of Captain Terremont’s men turned against Valn after that. They managed to overpower the remaining soldiers from the Talmiran Embassy, then opened the gates for the rest of the guard to secure the palace. They found the king and four of his advisers locked up in his apartments. Once they were safe, the guards released all the Council members from the dungeons. Most of the necromancers are performing resurrections, and everyone else is working to prepare defenses around the port, in case the other Powers can’t force Talmir to back down.”
“Let’s hope that isn’t necessary,” Lucia said.
It was past noon by the time an exhausted-looking Jessin returned with Corten’s bones. Naya had to fight to keep from snatching the bag from him and running to the glass shop. There were no carriages to be had, since most of the city’s horses had already been requisitioned to help with the defense. Lucia was doing better, but Naya doubted she could manage the long walk up the hill and still have enough strength left for the singing. After a short conversation with the guards, they managed to get space on one of the few trams still running. As they wound up the hill, Naya willed the tram to go faster. Every rattle and bump resonated up through the cracked bones of her hand. But the pain wasn’t as bad as the frustration of feeling the seconds grind past and knowing each one whittled away their chances of retrieving Corten’s soul.
They found Matius waiting for them at the shop. As they stepped inside he gave Naya’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
Matius nodded, then turned his attention to Lucia. “Right, well, I’ve shut off the furnaces and cleared some space for you in the room upstairs. I’ll make sure no one troubles you.”
“Thank you,” Lucia said.
Upstairs, Naya paused at the door to Corten’s room. It was unnerving to see it with the bed and all the clutter pushed back against the walls, like disrupting the space had somehow erased a small part of him from the world. She tried to ignore that chilling thought as she helped Lucia chalk the rune circles to contain the portal. The necromancer sat down gingerly near the center of the circle, cradling her injured arm. “You’ll probably be more comfortable downstairs,” she said to Naya. “The portal can cause minor disruptions to soul bindings, and with one of your bones already cracked—”
“I’m fine here,” Naya said. She knew she couldn’t help with the singing, but she also couldn’t stand waiting downstairs.
“Then stay quiet. I need to concentrate.” Lucia closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she began to sing.
Naya found the necromancer’s song just as eerie, and just as enticing, as the first time she’d heard it. As the notes flowed through her, the room grayed, becoming less real to her eyes. Tiny invisible hands pawed at her, and she heard the dark tides lapping at the walls. Naya clenched her jaw and stared at the bones in front of Lucia.
The longer the necromancer sang, the harder it was to judge how much time had passed. Naya could feel the tides trying to suck her in as Lucia’s song grew more insistent and the connection with the other side strengthened. The strange words took on a tone of command, but still Corten’s bones remained dark. Naya closed her eyes. She tried to reach out, knowing nothing she did or said could find him. Please come back. She thought she felt something shift. She opened her eyes. A blue glow illuminated Corten’s bones. Come back.
Lucia’s voice faltered and the edges of the portal began to waver, then to shrink.
“No,” Naya whispered. She leaned forward, reaching out even as she felt the portal weakening. For just an instant a wispy figure stood in the center, reaching back toward her. Then the black tendrils enveloped it and the portal snapped closed.
Lucia cried out, then collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Naya froze with her arm still outstretched. Her eyes locked on Corten’s lifeless bones. “No,” she whispered again.
Footsteps pounded on the stairs and Matius burst into the room. He took one look at Lucia’s unconscious form and his shoulders drooped. He hurried to Lucia and pressed one hand to her forehead. After a moment she groaned and opened her eyes.
Naya crawled to her. “It didn’t work,” she said. “You have to try again.”
“Can’t,” Lucia whispered, then closed her eyes again.
Naya turned to Matius. “Then we have to find another necromancer to do the singing.”
Matius shook his head. “Even if we could find someone able to make the attempt, you’d never convince them. If Lucia couldn’t bring him back, then there’s no doing it. I’m sorry, but it’s over.”
They laid Lucia out on the bed and Naya sat beside her. She stared, trying to think of nothing, as she waited for the necromancer to wake. A hollow ache grew in her chest. Corten couldn’t be gone. It wasn’t fair. People like him weren’t supposed to die.
Lucia opened her eyes. She glanced at Naya, then looked away, tears brimming. “I tried,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” Naya could feel the grief in Lucia’s aether, the soft ache intermixed with threads of bitter anger Naya suspected were directed at her. She couldn’t blame Lucia for that. Corten never would have been in that tunnel if not for her. If she’d only acted faster, maybe she could have saved him.
Matius cleared his throat behind them. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your shop. You’ll rest better there.”
After they helped Lucia down the stairs, Matius put a hand on Naya’s shoulder. “Corten was a fine boy,” he said softly. “And for what it’s worth, he was happier helping you than I’d seen him for a long time. I know he would have come back if he could.”
Naya’s throat was too tight for words, so she just nodded.
“If you ever need anything—a place to stay or just somebody to talk to—my wife and I live in the yellow house at the end of the street. You’re welcome anytime.”
Naya squeezed her eyes shut. “Thank you,” she whispered.
The guards escorted them to Lucia’s shop, then took up position by the shattered door. Naya was beginning to suspect that they were as much there to keep track of her as to protect her, but the pain in her bones and the deeper ache in her chest made her too tired to care. She put Lucia to bed, then did her best to clean up the ransacked workroom.
The sun set, and new guards came to replace the ones standing watch. They brought news that the Talmiran fleet had arrived but so far hadn’t launched any troops. Apparently Delence and two more of the king’s advisers were preparing to meet with the fleet’s admiral under a flag of truce.
When the workroom was as clean as it was lik
ely to get, Naya ascended the stairs and locked herself in her tiny room. She found the glass bird Corten had made waiting for her on the floor where she’d left it, its beak still frozen in the semblance of a smile. Naya picked it up in shaking hands, running her fingers over its smooth head and the lopsided curves of its wings. Then she closed her eyes and let the sobs tear their way out of her throat.
Eventually Naya’s sobs faded to hiccups, then silence. She stared at the glass bird, remembering the feel of Corten’s lips on hers and the wild, wonderful hope when he’d said he loved her. After all she’d done to him, he’d forgiven her. He’d believed in her and called her strong when all she’d been able to see were her failures.
Naya remembered the glowing figure she’d seen just before Lucia’s portal closed. They’d been so close. She was certain she’d felt Corten’s soul struggling to cross back into life.
And now I’m going to give up on him?
“No,” she whispered. “This isn’t over.” She set the glass bird down carefully, then stood. Her bones ached as she walked down the stairs, but she ignored the pain. They would heal eventually, and she had more important things to worry about.
She found Lucia and Alejandra in the workroom, talking quietly over cups of steaming tea. Both women looked up at her in surprise as she approached.
“What happens to a soul if it isn’t resurrected?” Naya asked.
Lucia blinked, sharing a confused glance with Alejandra. “Well, that depends on who you ask,” she said.
“The Dawning keepers here tell us that souls must first pass through a transition before they are welcomed into the Creator’s embrace,” Alejandra said. “That’s the place you saw before Lucia sang you back. I’ve heard it described many different ways, but everyone agrees they feel a force pulling them away from life.”
Naya tried not to shiver. That wasn’t much different from what she’d grown up believing. Granted, the Dawning keepers in Talmir never said anything about a transition. But they’d also called the undead monsters. Who knew what else they’d gotten wrong. “Is that what you believe?” she asked, meeting Lucia’s eyes. “Is that why you sometimes can’t bring a soul back? Because they’ve already gone to the Creator?”
Lucia looked away. “I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I attended a chapel service. There are of course a number of other theories, but I suppose that one is the most common.”
Alejandra put her hand over Lucia’s. Her expression was sympathetic when she met Naya’s eyes. “Sometimes even we have to accept that a death is beyond our powers. Necromancy doesn’t make us immortal; it only gives us a chance to extend the time of those who die too young. I met Corten several times. He was a good boy. We all mourn him, but—”
“But what?” Naya asked. “He’s gone? We tried once and now we should just give up on him? Maybe you can, but I won’t. He died because of me.” She stepped toward Lucia. “I felt him at the portal, just before it closed. Necromancers always say that souls come back because they still have a purpose in this world. Well, Corten belongs here.” A new thought struck her, and her insides clenched. “What if he got trapped, or lost somehow, trying to make it back? I need to know what happened to him. Please, there has to be something else you can try.”
Silence. Naya could feel Alejandra’s pity, but she ignored it, keeping her eyes locked on Lucia. Lucia licked her lips. “No one has ever succeeded at finding a soul again after a failed resurrection. It’s impossible,” she finally said.
“That’s what everyone said about healing a wraith’s bones,” Naya said. “But you found a way to do that.”
She saw something flash in Lucia’s eyes and felt the hungry echo in her aether. Lucia might have spent years living quietly. But before that she’d experimented with the most powerful magics of her age. “There are some theories…” Lucia began. “Back when I was doing research for the reaper bindings, I came across descriptions of something called a shadow walk. If the accounts can be believed, it was a method for transporting someone physically into death. I think perhaps it could be modified to search for a soul, but…”
“But what?” Naya asked. Her chest felt tight, her head strangely light.
“But it’s possible there’s nothing to search for. Also, I don’t know how to perform the ritual. I made copies of the diagrams once, but they were in a separate journal from the one Valn brought me. If it was somehow spared in the purge, I don’t know where it would be.”
“But if you had it, could you make another attempt?” Naya asked.
Lucia glanced to the workroom door and lowered her voice a little. “Perhaps.”
“Lu,” Alejandra hissed. “The Talmirans already baited you into using illegal runes once and it nearly got us both killed. I know you mourn Corten. But there are limits.”
Lucia didn’t answer, instead watching Naya with a curious expression. Naya’s thoughts raced. Lucia didn’t know where her other journals were, but Valn might. And Naya could guess where Valn would be, assuming he wasn’t dead.
Naya hurried to the workroom door. Outside she found two guards wearing King Allence’s colors. “I want to speak to Delence,” she told them. “Could one of you get a message to him for me?”
The guards exchanged a look. “Lord Delence is very busy,” one of them said.
Naya tried to sound confident. “It’s important.”
After a pause the guard nodded. “We could pass on word that you wish to speak to him, but I wouldn’t expect much. Lord Delence is helping the king identify and replace all those who betrayed him. It may be some time before he can speak to you.”
It took three days before Delence’s reply came in the form of a carriage and an invitation to the palace. Naya felt out of place sitting on the fine red-and-gold fabric as the carriage rattled through the city. The past three days had been torture. Her thoughts had dipped in and out of a fog of pain and grief. She tried to focus on her plan, but even hope felt fragile. The somber tone of the city’s aether didn’t help. Denor and Corten hadn’t been the only ones to die in the chaos of Valn’s coup attempt, and it seemed no one was certain what would happen next.
When Naya arrived at the palace, a servant escorted her through the empty audience chamber and to an office in one of the small side halls. There she found Delence sitting behind a desk covered in neat stacks of paper.
“Ah, Miss Garth, welcome,” he said, motioning for her to take a seat. As she sat he activated a large rune-powered teakettle on the desk.
Naya put on a fake smile that she hoped would disguise the knots in her stomach. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re busy.”
Delence smiled back. “That is what happens when one is tasked with reconstructing a government. We’ve already had to replace several people who accepted Valn’s bribes.”
Delence sounded almost cheerful as he discussed the treason. Naya reached out through the aether, but the teakettle was sucking up most of his energy. Between that and her fractured bones, she couldn’t pick out his emotions from the background hum. Did Delence know about her role in his kidnapping and his son’s death? It was hard to imagine he didn’t by now. Was his warm greeting just a mask, or did he not care about her past crimes?
“I wanted to talk to you about Valn,” Naya said cautiously. “I know you captured him when you took the palace back. Is he still…”
“Alive? Yes. His injuries were severe but not fatal.”
“Has he said anything?” Naya asked.
“Quite a bit. Not all of it has been useful, but our interrogators are working to extract any secrets he may still be hiding.”
“Good,” Naya said. But as the words left her mouth, she felt a twinge of doubt. It was good to know that someone was making sure Valn’s work was well and truly over. But his plans weren’t the only secrets he’d likely held. How would Delence use the information he’d extracted from Valn? Naya
knew she’d done the right thing in helping stop Valn, but she didn’t like the idea of Ceramor using him as a tool against her homeland.
Delence leaned forward. “Yes. But let’s not waste any more time. I think I know why you’ve come. You must be wondering by now why we haven’t imprisoned you.”
Naya tensed. “What?”
“King Allence appreciates the sacrifices you made exposing Valn, and he intends to issue a pardon covering your actions spying against the people of Ceramor, and your role in capturing me. Hiding a reaper is more complicated than pardoning a few crimes, but we’re doing what we can. So far I’ve managed to contain and discredit the rumors. Thankfully, few people knew what you were. I’ve convinced Lord Jalance to hand over the incriminating materials, and for now we’ll keep a protective eye on Madame Laroke to make sure no one attempts to coerce any further favors from her.”
Naya sat back, struggling to absorb all he’d said. She’d given little thought to her own fate with everything that had happened. King Allence and his government would be taking a risk by choosing to hide her. If she was exposed, the treaty gave them little choice but to execute her. And there were surely others like Valn who would gladly twist the situation to their advantage. In a way, that made tracking the source of the journal even more important. Lucia had thought it unlikely that Valn had acquired it during the purges. If he’d gotten it from someone else, then that person might know about her. Who knew how they’d use that knowledge.
“There’s something else you should know,” Naya said. “Lucia claimed Valn was the one who gave her the diagrams for my bond. Did he mention anything about that?”
Delence smiled. “In that area I do have a bit of good news. Based on my conversations with Lord Jalance, I had some suspicions about Lucia Laroke’s true identity and the history of the journal we confiscated. When questioned on that point, Valn claimed that he got the journal from somewhere in Talmir. If it’s true, then it puts the Talmiran government in a difficult position. If they attempt to expose you, they risk drawing attention to the source of the journal. Valn hinted that the book was part of a collection. So far we haven’t been able to get any further details from him. But we’re hopeful that this line of questioning may eventually reveal the identity of his other allies in Talmir.”
