by J. B. Markes
"Of course. It's good to see you." Harper made his way toward me, as well, stopping on the far side of a clean table and leaning on his fingertips. "Have you been back long?"
"I just arrived," I said. "And I wanted to say hello." I moved around the table between us to come up beside him. "Hello."
"You seem different," he said, his body rigid. "In good health. Better, even. I'm happy to see it. And I'm glad you're back safe." He retreated to the next table to organize glass that didn't need organized. His smile was different today, still winning, but missing the spark that had first caught my attention. He avoided eye contact with a strength he had never managed in all the time I knew him. "But I'm sorry, Miss Ives. I'm a little busy today. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow?"
"This will only take a minute," I said. "Look. There's something I've been wanting to tell you for some time now. I know I've been hard to manage, distant. You're a nice guy, but you came into my life at a difficult time and I've been avoiding you. I'm sorry for shutting you out. But I want to make it up to you, if you'll give me the chance."
He stopped working, but he didn't look up from his table. He never was a good liar. He was wearing his apron, but not his goggles, so he couldn't have been too busy. His goggles were on his writing desk, where his work had been interrupted. But not by me, and not by Master Bentham else I would have been reprimanded the moment I entered the room.
And then it struck me. I left Harper to his glassware and went straight for the storage room, but as soon as I took the first step I could hear the alchemist shuffling behind me, confirming my suspicion. I called out before I even reached the door. "Regina Abernathy, come out of there."
It took a few seconds for her to muster the courage to open the door, as if I might be waiting to curse her. She stepped out into the open, her head hung low. I had never seen Regina in such a state, not even in the wake of our foolish duel. "Izzy," she said weakly.
"Are you kidding me?" I asked when she didn't look up at me. "This is why you didn't come to Astar?"
"I'm sorry," she said, holding as still as possible as I crossed the distance between us. Finally, I grabbed her and pulled her to me. She flinched as I embraced her, then wrapped her arms around me and sighed.
"I've been waiting for you to contact me, you stupid girl. Do you know you missed your chance to meet the king?"
"I didn't know what to do." She spoke rapidly before I could change my mind. "It happened so suddenly and I want you to know I didn't plan on—"
"Be quiet," I said, holding her face in my hands and shaking my head. "I'm happy for you." I turned to face Harper Lazrus, who was as sheepish as ever. "For both of you. Really."
"I thought you would hate me forever," she said.
"I can't afford to," I replied. "You're my best friend."
"Let me look at you." Regina sniffled and laughed and stepped back from me, giving me a shake. "You look so grown up!"
"It's you that's always been a child," I said, shoving her. "Anyway, I should get back to the house. I have a lot of studying to do. But come see me when you have time. I have stories to tell you that I'm not allowed to tell anyone."
"Stay, Miss Ives," Harper said. "We have time. Master Bentham won't be troubling us. He's out of town."
"Another time," I said, wondering how red my face was. I unbuckled my satchel and put my hand inside as Regina gave me a questioning smirk. "You told me to bring you something expensive." I pulled out the spellbook I had borrowed from Airlea and thrust it into her impatient hands.
"Alternative Castings: A Study in Efficient Manifestation. I've never heard of this tome," she said with appreciation that collapsed into shock when she checked the spine. "Jaironys. Izzy, where in the world did you get this?"
"I stole it," I said. "But I can't use it. I'm not a hand mage anymore. But do me a favor and don't mention you got it from me if anyone asks." I patted her on the arm and showed myself to the door, but Regina called to me before I even reached the stairs.
"Are you a Sentinel now?" she asked, completely baffled.
"Gods, no," I replied, laughing. "I'm a necromancer."
Chapter 25
When I returned home to the necromancer's cottage, I was surprised to find Adele Sinclair, apprentice wizard to the Archseer himself, standing just inside the doorway. The sweet smell of tobacco on the breeze told me that Gustobald had dipped into his secret stash. He was regaling her with the story of our recent trip, to which she appeared to be only half-invested.
"Have a seat, Miss Sinclair," I said in passing, but she just glowered at me. She was still in a mood about that time I fired a lightning bolt at her head.
"I'm not here long," she replied, though her tired stance said otherwise. "I'm on the Council's business."
"The Council of Masters?" Gustobald cut off his tale abruptly. "Well, why didn't you say so, girl? Instead of just ogling me without so much as a 'good day'. There's a time for work and there's a time for storytelling."
"I didn't ask to hear a story," she said. "Are you quite finished?"
"Hum." Gustobald took a break from unpacking to sit in his favorite chair for the first time in weeks. I knew that would be his place for the remainder of the day. He motioned with his pipe stem to the broken box we had been gifted by the king. I retrieved it and took it to the fireplace mantle, noting that most of its jewels were still intact and even retained their magical glow. I set the box down gently, right next to the half-empty bottle of brackwater liquor. "A gift from His Majesty," he said with a coy shrug at Miss Sinclair.
"If I may begin," she said. "Days before your return to the academy, the Archseer was paid a visit by two sentinels from the capital. First Sentinels, dressed like Miss Ives here."
"Irregular." Gustobald muttered, leaning back.
"Unprecedented," she said. "Especially considering they were delivering a shipment of gold bars valued at one hundred thousand gold crowns."
"One hundred thousand!" It didn't sound any more real coming out of my own mouth.
Gustobald took a long draw on his pipe and released a stream of smoke from his nostrils with a satisfied smile. He closed his eyes and nodded.
"That's amazing news!" I couldn't grasp the reason for Sinclair's subdued aspect, but assumed it was petty bitterness over our success. "Is it for us?"
"Certainly not." She removed a square of folded paper from her pocket. I recognized the king's crown-of-roses seal:
FOR CONSTRUCTION OF A NEW TOWER AND FURTHERING THE FIELD OF NECROMANCY, INCLUDING THE TRAINING OF INITIATE WIZARDS.
Gustobald said nothing; his breathing didn't even change. Gone was the characteristic lust in his eyes whenever the subject of a necromancy school was brought up. He had seen this conversation coming, and already knew how it ended.
"This is great," I said. "When do we start?"
"The Council of Masters has deliberated carefully," she said.
"I bet they have," the necromancer said.
"They have issued their statement," she said. "In the absence of a master necromancer, there can be no necromancy school."
"Gustobald's a master," I said. "They only call him an expert. What does the Archseer say?"
"Master Rutherford agrees with their decision to postpone the motion."
"Postpone the motion?" I asked. "What does that even mean?"
"It means that it will be on hold indefinitely." Gustobald pursed his lips, jostling the beads in his beard. "They will never allow it to come to fruition."
"They can't just steal His Majesty's gold," I said.
"They will do nothing of the sort." Sinclair folded the paper and tucked it back into her pocket. "The gold will be set aside and used for its intended purpose once the Council has made its final decision."
"Unbelievable!" I curled my fingers and twisted my wrist, and Sinclair's eyes darted to my wand hand. "You know they are writing songs about us in the capital as we speak."
"Let it go, Isabel," Gustobald said. "It wasn't her decisio
n. She's just a messenger."
"Well she's delivered her message," I said, walking back to the door. "Now get out, Miss Sinclair."
She bowed to Gustobald, showing the minimum amount of respect before heading for the door. She paused on the doorstep and turned around to add something, but I slammed the door in her face. Finally, I threw myself into the chair opposite Gustobald. I was too angry to say anything; Gustobald was too tired. I let out a frustrated groan and Gustobald sighed.
"Why did you try to send me away?" I asked. "Did you expect me to just go off with Master Thaddeus into the wild north?"
"I expected you to do what was best for you."
"And what was that?"
"That is yet to be seen," he said. "But it was best to let you make the decision."
"Well, I've decided. I'm here with you."
"And good thing, too. We couldn't have done it without you. The prince might actually be dead if not for you. Could you imagine if that box ever happened to enter the Radiant Round?" He snapped his fingers "That would have been it."
"So much death," I said. "And what was it all for?"
"The guilty were punished. That should make you happy."
"Not all of them."
"Hmm?"
"The prince is as much to blame as any of them. He thought he could pretend to be dead, sleep a while, and then run off with his astrologist girlfriend."
"I'm not sure he was privy—"
"Are you forgetting his letter to Lady Ashdown? I would rather die than marry someone I don't love. Ridiculous. And did you see his face when he woke up? Airlea and Jasper had their own plan long before Xavier took it from them. The prince would have his funeral and then they would disappear together. It wasn't jealousy, Gustobald. It was love. You're a genius, but sometimes you're really out of touch."
"Hum." He puffed a few times and nodded. After a few seconds of running it through, he huffed again and shook his head. "Prince Jasper complicit in his own kidnapping. Well, just the same, you can't throw a member of the royal family into the Pit."
"I should have left him in the gem."
"You are becoming quite the wizard-detective yourself, you know. And to cast the reanimation spell without materials, I'd say you may have a future in wild magic after all, to say nothing of necromancy."
"If I have a future at all," I said without thinking, killing the mood. "But you did save me once. You can do it again, right? Like you did with the apricot tree. Isn't that why you told me to pay attention that day during the gifting ceremony? You can heal me again."
"I've told you before that there's no healing in necromancy," he replied.
"You told me that necromancy is as much the study of life as it is death."
"I see you were fooled like everyone else. What you saw was simple transmutation, nothing more."
"But the tree died and you grew it back."
"It was an adult tree from the start. I miniaturized it for the presentation. I reduced it to a seed and then returned it to its original state. There was no necromancy about it. Life can be transferred, but not created. Nor can it truly be destroyed, but that is a different lesson altogether. Take time, practice with patience, and you will come to the truth on your own, as I did."
The prince's spirit had been transferred to Airlea's emerald star crest and back to his own body. To the commoners who witnessed the miracle, it had seemed the prince had been raised from the dead. It must have seemed the same to Sentinel Chalke the day he witnessed my own return from the other side. Or was I really dead at all?
"But if life has to come from somewhere, how did you—".
"You're right, of course," Gustobald said. "I should have seen it myself. Our dead man Vaughn who fell from the God's Eye, and the disappearances at the beggar's guild. Airlea may have been a capable wizard—and the prince may have been a willing participant—but she was no necromancer. In order to ensure the prince wouldn't be killed outright, she needed test subjects. The busted gems you saw were her failed attempts."
"But dropping Vaughn over the side would ruin the prince's suicide story. It doesn't make sense."
"Once Xavier took over, their plan went up in smoke." Gustobald blew a smoke ring for effect. "No doubt it was Xavier's way of throwing us off, which it did."
Shiny! Zephyr called out in my mind from his perch on the back of my chair. Indeed, the pendant around Gustobald's neck had recovered some of its glow.
"So Vaughn was a test subject?" I asked.
Staring at that pendant, a dangerous idea was taking hold, one that would loom over us for the rest of our days together. Gustobald nodded, blowing another smoke ring across the room. The necromancer had saved my life. I hoped he would always be there to do it again, just as I would be there for him when he needed me. What I didn't know at the time—and was only just beginning to grasp—was the cost of it all, and the price we would all pay before the end.
Copyright
NECROSWORN: Chronicles of the Wizard-Detective copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.No part of this book may be reproduced in any format without permission in writing from the copyright holder. For further information, email jbmarkes at jbmarkes.com. Cover art by Karri Klawiter.
About the Author
J.B. Markes is an American writer currently living somewhere between South Korea and Coranthia. He is a fan of all things fantasy and misses all those late-night D&D sessions.
Thanks for Reading!
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For Queen or Country Series
For Queen or Country
Godless
The Bear of Alon
The Heretic Queen
Chronicles of the Wizard-Detective Series
Necrospect
Necrosworn
Table of Contents
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Copyright - About the Author
Thanks for Reading!
For Queen or Country Series
Chronicles of the Wizard-Detective Series
