by Anna Lewis
“I’d like that,” he said. “They’re all really awful, you know.”
“I expected as much,” Nessa replied. “I know how power can go to people’s heads. I do work at the university, you know.” She placed her hand on Charlie’s arm. She could feel tendrils of electricity emanating from his touch. He was holding it back. He had a strong control over his gift. But she could tell that it was a constant battle for him.
“Wait, miss!” Sophie cried out. “Shoes!” Nessa laughed.
“Of course!” She exclaimed. “I am so nervous, I almost went barefoot.” Even Charlie was able to crack a smile at that one. Sophie placed a pair of gold satin slippers on the floor before her. Nessa stepped into them, and then she and Charlie left her tiny room.
As they walked along the halls, Charlie pointed out different tapestries, explaining to her what had happened. They stopped before a tapestry of a golden dragon, poised above an army of what looked like the dead. The figures of the army were all pale, blue. There was one figure who stood above the army, tall and dark. The figure had no skin on his face—instead, there was a pale, grinning skull, bright red eyes glowing from the sockets.
“This was when the Death’s Head Necromancer attacked the castle in 1885,” Charlie explained. “The king shifted into dragon form, and met his dead army on the fields of battle in the realm of death.”
“How did he win?” Nessa asked, her stomach roiling with nerves. It was likely that she would have to face this new Necromancer. Charlie shrugged.
“The king never returned. The Death’s Head was defeated by Spot two years later,” he said. “I am worried that the same demon is trying to return.” Nessa nodded. She was beginning to think that perhaps she should have asked for something other in return. It was likely that this was a suicide mission.
“Don’t worry, Nessa,” Charlie said. “I’ll be with you the whole way. And Ra is strong. He doesn’t show it, but he is strong as a dragon.”
“What about you?”
“I can shift into dragon form, but I am something else.” That much was true. Nessa wasn’t entirely sure what Charlie was. It was uncommon for someone to be both a shifter and a powerful seer. Charlie was more than he was letting on. They walked to the ballroom of the palace, standing by the door.
The room itself was cavernous and exquisitely designed. It was lit by a massive candelabra, which hung and blazed brightly from the very center of the ceiling. There were large, ornate mirrors covering the walls, making the space seem larger than it was. The ceiling was painted with a large mural—surrounding a circle of pure, blue sky, were cherubs in the clouds, and paintings depicting mythical characters. The floor was made of pure marble—dark black rectangles surrounded by a border of pink and green.
It was crowded with people, all dressed to the nines. Silks and satins rustled as ladies walked, and all of the men wore dark suits in elegant cuts. A string orchestra was playing light music in the corner. The courtiers merely milled about, talking. It seemed that everyone held a delicate champagne flute. Waiters made their way through the crowd, ensuring that everyone had something to drink. Ra walked toward them, dressed in a tux almost identical to Charlie’s but with a bright crimson sash across his chest. He wore an elaborate golden crown upon his head. He bowed to Nessa. He held out his hand.
“May I have the honor of this dance?” he asked.
“I don’t know how to dance,” Nessa responded. She looked at Charlie, who was grinning.
“You don’t have to,” he said. “Ra will show you.”
“I promised…” she began, but Charlie waved her off.
“Too many people are looking at us,” he said in mock complaint. “It’s better if I slink off alone. I can disappear into the shadows without a pretty woman on my arm.” Stung, Nessa took Ra’s outstretched hand. He led her to the middle of the room. Her heart was pounding. What Charlie had said was true—all eyes were on her. She raised her chin, straightened her back—anything to appear more confident and graceful than she felt. She glanced over at Ra. He was smiling at her. She felt her heart almost stop. He was gorgeous. He moved toward her, placing his free hand on her hip. He pulled her in close to him. She could smell his scent—it was spicy, masculine. It made her heart pound harder. He pressed his hand into the small of her back, bringing her closer as he held her other hand aloft.
“It’s going to be a waltz,” he explained in an undertone. “Just follow my lead.”
“Okay,” she said breathlessly. His face was close enough to hers that, should he lean in just a fraction more, they could kiss. She looked at his lips, which were full, bee-stung. His teeth were perfect, white. Nessa bit her lip. She was just here for a job. It would be no good to fall for a prince. Especially the crown prince. That would entail duty and… things. Things which Nessa did not want. Like attending balls and having a bunch of courtiers watching her. Judging her every move. It was almost painful.
The music began, the four-string orchestra playing a light tune. Ra began to move, guiding her through the steps. Her long, voluminous skirt hid the many mistakes that she made with her feet. Ra spun her around the marble-floored hall with ease. Nessa looked into Ra’s eyes, which shone.
“You’re doing magnificently,” he said proudly.
“It’s easier than I thought it would be,” she replied coolly.
“There’s nothing to it,” he said, smiling. Nessa could feel the many eyes of the court on them as they moved to the music. She felt the weight of Ra’s hand on her lower back, pulling her in closer to his body. She felt so conscious of it—he was solid and warm. He placed his cheek up against hers. She inhaled sharply, breathing in his scent. Her heart hammered in her chest. She could feel the edge of his lips curving upward against her cheek.
“What?” she asked.
“Hmmm?”
“You’re smiling,” she accused him. He laughed.
“Is that a crime?” He asked.
“I suppose not.”
The dance finally ended, and Ra led her off of the floor, into the crowd. The courtiers looked at them curiously as they passed through them. Nessa could see them all whispering to each other as she and Ra passed them.
“Is your life always this much on display?” she asked.
“Always,” Ra said.
“Does it get exhausting?”
“Eventually, it becomes nothing,” he replied simply. She looked over at him. His look was impassive, yet confident. This was just another day at the office for him, she realized. If it wasn’t her on his arm, then it would be someone else.
“Where are we going?” she asked him.
“You must meet Mother,” he replied. Nessa’s heart beat quickly, like a caged bird. The queen was notorious for being the country’s iron maiden. She had been ruling since the death of her husband, almost a decade before. When Ra came of age at twenty-five, then he would take over. That time was coming soon. She was a strong leader, someone not to be trifled with, and Nessa instantly felt cowed at the thought of meeting her.
The crowd parted, and Nessa could see the queen in her massive throne before them. The chair was made of iron, and crafted with intricate design. It was a work of art, and looked incredibly uncomfortable. But the queen sat on it, back straight, face impassive. Charlie stood beside it, looking exhausted.
Nessa looked at the queen. The woman’s deep blue eyes stared back at her, sizing her up. While her eyes were the same color as her sons’, they lacked the joyful sparkle that Ra and Charlie possessed. The queen wore an elaborate gown. On any other woman, that dress would have worn her. It had a tight bodice, and long, elegant sleeves of structured fabric. The design on the fabric was elaborate—a gold design on a blue background. The skirt was full, covering her legs and her feet. The crown on her head was a massive concoction of golden spires and blood-red rubies. Nessa could tell that the woman was a dragon from the way that she held herself, as though at any moment, she would erupt into flame and gold scales.
�
�Mother,” Ra said, clearly comfortable in this situation. “I would like to introduce Nessa Kant, the daughter of Elias and Libba Kant, the Necromancers who were taken with father.”
“I am sorry for your loss,” the queen said. “Your parents were quite an asset.” Nessa arched an eyebrow. An asset?
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she said.
“Have you been working much in spirit magic?” the queen asked. Nessa recognized the trap.
“No, Your Majesty. I was completely unaware that I was a Necromancer.” The queen nodded.
“For the best,” she said. “Are you as strong as your parents were?”
“I hope so,” Nessa said. “For the sake of the country.” The queen liked this very much. She cracked the smallest of smiles and nodded.
“As do I,” she replied. She stood up from her throne. “Imrahil, you and your brother should mingle with the court. I would like to speak to Miss Kant privately.” The queen stepped down from her chair and began to walk in the direction of the set of French doors, which were open to the terrace. Nessa glanced at Ra and Charlie. They both smiled at her, but remained where they were. Nessa sighed and followed the queen, who was walking out through a set of French doors to the side of the throne.
The terrace was empty of people. It was paved with deep red brick. In the center, there was a grand marble fountain, with the sculptures of running horses set in the center, the water bubbling about their hooves. The terrace was filled with well-cared-for rosebushes, which bloomed luxuriously. The queen reached out toward one pensively.
“You know, the king was killed when your parents were taken,” she said.
“I didn’t know they were taken,” Nessa replied. “I was told that it was an accident. That their bodies were unrecoverable.”
“They were all fighting together,” the queen explained. “The Necromancer took them all. She killed the king, and she took your parents for their powers. This battle is as much yours as it is my sons’.”
“Is there any chance that my parents are alive?” Nessa asked.
“If they are, then they are going to be a shade of what they once were,” the queen said, looking over at Nessa. Her face was heart-shaped, her cheekbones high. Her skin was perfect, young for her age. Her hair, beneath the crown was elaborately done. She wore crimson lipstick, which made her mouth look bloody, her teeth perfect and white. “You must free them, let them go into the afterlife.”
“But you must also stop the Necromancer,” she went on. “Neither one of my sons will be able to do it. Imrahil is strong as a dragon, but flame is no match for spirit magic. Charlie is a seer. The Necromancer will target him first. He has the power that she wants.” The queen looked directly at Nessa.
“Ms. Kant, you must protect Charlie,” she said. “I’m saying this not as a mother, but a queen. Charlie’s powers are great. If he chooses, he could do terrible things. You are the only one going into this battle on even footing with the Necromancer.” Nessa nodded. She felt cold all over.
“The only thing that truly concerns me,” the queen began.
“My inexperience,” Nessa said. The queen laughed.
“No,” she said, surprising Nessa. “I’ve seen the way that both of my sons look at you, Ms. Kant. It should come as no surprise to you. You’re a beautiful woman. An absolutely stunning creature.” She placed her hand beneath Nessa’s chin, gripping it between two fingers. She looked Nessa in the eyes.
“Don’t get caught between princes,” the queen said. “Especially twins. You will never come first. They already have each other. They require no one else, but a fight between them could spell disaster. Understood?”
“Yes,” Nessa replied. The queen let go of Nessa’s chin. She smiled coldly. Nessa felt the utter difference between the queen and her sons. This woman was dangerous.
“I’m glad that we can see eye-to-eye,” she said. “After all, you are common. What good would it do for you to fall in love with a prince?” She turned away, walking back inside. Nessa watched her go, having the distinct feeling that the queen reminded her of a snake—ready to strike at any moment. Nessa stayed out on the terrace, listening to the sounds of the orchestra inside.
“Nessa?” She turned to find Charlie standing at the door. He looked handsome in his tux, even if he did look a tad bit awkward. He pulled at the gloves that covered his hands.
“Hey,” she said.
“What did she tell you?” He asked.
“Nothing you don’t already know,” she replied vaguely. He walked over to her, grabbing her by the hand. He led her over to the fountain, where they sat down on the marble lip.
“Are you nervous?” He asked her.
“Terrified,” she admitted. “But if my parents are still alive in some manner, I have to go and free them.” Charlie nodded and said nothing.
“Have you seen them?” She asked him. He nodded, but he didn’t respond. “Tell me, Charlie.” He looked sad.
“They’re in a lot of pain,” he said. Nessa felt like crying—all these years, she could have been searching for them. Instead, she had chased a position on the faculty of the university. How pointless that seemed now.
“Why did we have to wait for so long?” She asked. He looked at her.
“We weren’t strong enough,” he said. “We both needed time to grow into our gifts.” Nessa nodded as she thought.
“Will you show me your visions?” She asked.
“In order to get to the spirit plane, we have to go through my visions,” he explained. “Since you’ve never gone on your own, I will have to bring you through my pathway. It is the only way to get to the Necromancer. She has ascended to another plane of existence.”
“She’s not here?” Nessa frowned.
“Not in the material plane,” he said. “That’s why they can’t find her. But she’s been trying to contact me. She wants me on her side. She wants you, too.”
“Why?” Nessa asked. She hadn’t realized it, but she had taken Charlie’s gloved hand in her own. Recalling the queen’s warning, she dropped it. Charlie noticed. He smiled, then took her hand in his.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I can hold them with the gloves on.”
“No, it’s not that,” Nessa said. “I don’t fear your powers. But your mother will have my head on a spike.”
“You’re safe,” he replied. “She wouldn’t dare kill off the one person who has the power to save the country. It’s the only thing that she cares about.” Nessa’s heart pounded at the thought that so much was riding on her. She also had the strange desire to feel Charlie’s hand. She wanted to feel his skin—to get lost in whatever it was that he saw. She didn’t know how to tell him. She bit her lip, then looked up. Charlie smiled at her and pressed her hand within his gloved one.
“Ness,” he said, reaching up, and running his hand along her neck. Even with the glove on, Nessa felt electricity in his touch.
“Can you take it off?” She whispered. He looked surprised.
“You’ll see my visions,” he said.
“I…I want to,” she replied. He looked away sadly.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. When I was younger, just a child, I had a friend, here at the palace,” he said. “Her name was Lili. She talked me into taking off my gloves… she insisted that she wanted to feel my magic…”
“What happened?”
“She was never the same again,” he said. He looked at her, and his eyes were full of fear. “She’s in the city asylum. What she saw…it destroyed her.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Nessa said.
“It was. I destroyed her with my touch,” he said. Nessa reached up, placing her hand on Charlie’s face. His cheek was smooth, clean-shaven.
“We’re going to have to go into your visions in order to do this,” she said. “I want to know what it’s going to be like.”
“Right now?” he asked.
“Right now,” Nessa insisted. He nodded, slowly.
“Can we�
� can we go to my tower?” He asked. “If something bad happens…”
“Nothing bad will happen,” she replied.
* * *
They sat across from each other in the darkness of Charlie’s tower. Her voluminous skirt was spread out around her. Her heart was hammering in her chest. This was both sensual and terrifying at the same time. Charlie looked terrified as he pulled his gloves off.
Nessa held up her hands, palms out to him. He held up his hands. They were shaking.
“I’m an experienced practitioner, Charlie,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” He nodded, then placed his hands against hers.
The world seemed to expand. They were running down a darkened hallway. They were out on a terrace on the top of a very high tower. They were in the middle of a very large room, where the dead were all around them. The dead were in pain—Nessa felt it. They all reached out for her. She was the only one with the power to make the pain stop. She was the only one who could help them cross over. She felt their hands, fleshless, grab at her. She felt a hand, pulling her out. It was Charlie.
“Where are we?” she asked him.
“A place between places.” He pointed. “She hides here.” She looked up to see the Necromancer. She sat on a large chair. It was plain, black wood. She had long, flowing black hair. Her face was covered by a pale mask—a skull, which grinned back at them. Her mouth beneath it was a grimace. She looked upon them, saying nothing. Nessa could feel her malice. Nessa gripped Charlie’s hand.
“Let’s go,” he said. Nessa opened her eyes. She was sitting across from Charlie. The warmth of his palms was against hers. She could feel the electricity coursing through them. She could feel the queen’s warning. She reached forward, grabbing Charlie’s cheek, pulling him toward her. She pressed her lips to his. He froze for a moment, then returned her kiss.
Although her eyes were closed, she could feel that they were somewhere between worlds again, this time, somewhere good. The sun was shining on them, and she could hear birds singing. She opened her eyes to find that they were in a garden. It was lush, verdant, pink cabbage roses blooming around them. Charlie grinned at her.
