Grave Magic (How To Be A Necromancer Book 4)

by D. D. Miers

  There had been portals and Gwydion's asshole brother and the lights had started going out and I had grabbed the candle and—

  I died. Holy shit.

  That was it. I remembered dying. It isn't like falling asleep or getting knocked out. There's a microsecond where you can sort of see it coming. Not enough time to process it, but you know you aren't going to wake up again.

  Except I had, sort of. And I didn't know how to deal with it.

  There was something in the distance. I noticed it the minute it appeared since there was literally nothing else here. It was just a speck, so far away I couldn't really make it out. Something blue. I walked toward it because what else could I do? And the closer I got, the more familiar it became, a rectangular shape, floating in the void. Blue paint on hardwood. A brass knocker in the shape of a devilish head.

  The Blue Demon Door.

  "What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, not expecting an answer but kind of relieved when I didn't get one. This was the kind of place where you couldn't really be surprised if the doorknocker opened its eyes and talked.

  I hurried toward it, excitement growing. Maybe it was a way out? Maybe it was a door back into my body? Whatever it was, it had to be better than wandering around aimlessly in the void. I reached for the handle, my metaphorical heart pounding.

  "Vexa?"

  I stopped as someone called my name.

  I turned, somewhere between surprise and fear to realize that someone else was in here with me. Both of which became overwhelming relief as I realized who it was.

  "Cole!"

  His eyes widened in mild panic as I ran toward him, throwing my arms around him. Or trying to, anyway. I went right through him like a ghost.

  I stood on the other side of him for a minute, blinking down at my own hands. Which, of course, weren't there. I was a weird perception dream/hallucination in my own comatose brain.

  "Well that was weird," I said, shrugging off all the uncomfortable implications and facing Cole again. "So, uh, are you actually here or is this more weird brain stuff?"

  He stood in front of me, hunched in a battered leather jacket, highly present in a slightly surreal way. It was like I saw him in high-definition or in subtle caricature. His eyes were always beautiful, but I didn't think they were usually that bright. He seemed thinner than I remembered too, a little hangdog, a little more worn down than the stubborn punk I was used to.

  "I'm actually here," Cole said, frowning and tense with concern. "Julius worked it out. Are you all right? What weird brain stuff?"

  "Uh, I'm as all right as I can be given the situation?" I shrugged, feeling weirdly fragile. I shook off the sudden urge to cry. I really wanted to hug him, and it was kind of fucking me up that I couldn't. "I mean, uh, I'm pretty sure I died. And now I'm stuck in my own head. I saw my dead great uncle I think? And then there was this door . . ."

  I trailed off, putting a hand to my head. I thought I couldn’t get a headache in here, but I think I had one.

  "Do you know what's going on, uh, up there?" Cole asked, gesturing stiffly toward the infinite dark above us.

  "No. Kind of. I heard a little when I pushed hard enough, but then I got flung down here . . .." I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. I noticed, belatedly, that it was straightened, the way I usually wore it, not the salt-stiff curly mess it was in the real world. My clothes weren't all wrecked, either. I wasn't even sure I was wearing the same outfit? Had I been wearing the black shirt dress with gold bees on the collar when I died? I thought I was wearing the skirt and tights thing. Yeah, I hadn't worn this dress since the last time I went to work.

  "Hey, your outfit is nice, but I think we have bigger things to worry about," Cole said.

  "Was I talking?" I asked, confused.

  Cole nodded.

  "Sorry," I said, flustered. "We're in my head. I guess thinking and talking are kind of the same deal here?"

  "Try to focus," Cole said with uncharacteristic patience. "What's the last thing you remember?"

  "Grabbing the candle in that hospital room."

  "So you don't remember anything that happened in Tir Na Nog?"

  "Uh, I remember the stuff before we ended up in the Undercity."

  Cole took a deep breath, then sat down on the nonexistent floor.

  "Have a seat," he said. "This'll take a minute."

  I sat down across from him, wondering if I should be worried.

  "So the portal Gil made in the hospital room dumped us back in Tir Na Nog," he said. "Because Gil is an asshole and also apparently working for Aethon."

  "That's not good," I said, observantly.

  "No shit," Cole scoffed. "Gwydion thinks that might be why he stole the Artificer's Glass. He returned it to the dwarves and I'd bet my left nut he didn't do it for free."

  "So . . . what, Aethon's making some kind of alliance?" I asked. "Why?"

  "Fuck if I know," Cole shrugged. "It's probably not that straightforward, though. The guy doesn't really seem like he needs an army, and the dwarves don't really have any political leverage anywhere."

  "I guess we just get to add that to the list of worrying mysteries," I muttered. "Like why is Aethon doing this in the first place, and where did the candle even come from, and why is he immortal, and where has he been all these years?"

  "I think I can answer one of those, actually," Cole said, and his grimace told me I wasn't going to like it. "So, uh, we ended up back in Tir Na Nog and . . . Maybe it's easier if I just show you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Julius told me I could share memories with you if I . . . just hold out your hand."

  "I thought we couldn't touch?" I asked, holding my hand out to him, palm up.

  "We can," Cole said, reaching for me. "Sort of. It's just more of an effort. Focus on your hand. Try to really feel it."

  I stared at my hand, focusing on it, feeling the air against my skin. As Cole pressed his hand to mine, a strange blue static marked the place where our skin made contact, the sensation fizzy as carbonation, a gentle electric tingle. Suddenly I felt Cole's emotions, alien and out of place next to my own. The focus he exerted on his hand, the underlying worry about Aethon, the situation, me. A deep, ragged determination that felt like a house of stone among silk tents. Other feelings came and went but this remained. I noticed with some amusement an aching relief at finding me safe in here and a flicker of a memory of the last time he'd kissed me. I was surprised. He did a very good job of pretending he wasn't interested in me or anyone. I knew he must be feeling my emotions, too, so I responded in kind, thinking about how badly I'd wanted to hold him, how gorgeous his eyes were, and my own memory of that kiss. Despite the circumstances, it had been a very good one.

  Cole turned red and pulled his hand away.

  "If you aren't going to take this seriously, I can just leave," he threatened.

  "Sorry," I said quickly, offering my hand again. "Sorry. I'll be serious."

  He took a deep breath and focused again, our hands close.

  "It was a good kiss, though."

  Cole dropped his hand to glare at me.

  "That wasn't a kiss, it was strategy," Cole said, flustered. "I knew making Ethan wolf out was our only shot. And considering he seems to be triggered by anything that makes him confront his sexuality, I figured kissing him would push him over the edge."

  "Then why did you kiss me first?" I asked, grinning, and touched his hand, the fuzz of emotions washing over me.

  "I was pulling a dose of magic out of you," Cole claimed, looking away. "In case kissing Ethan didn't set him off, the negative energy would. It was just a contingency plan."

  But his thoughts answered more honestly than his lips. "I thought there was a good chance we'd all die, and I didn't want to go without having kissed you at least once."

  He pulled his hand away again, embarrassed, but I followed it.

  "But you had kissed me before," I pointed out. "In the forest of Tir Na Nog, remember? Or rather, I
kissed you."

  I let him see the memory, how beautiful he'd looked in the golden sunlight of an unnaturally perfect summer day, all of us drunk on magic thick as honey in the air, the way my heart had skipped when I'd pulled him close, the dappled sunlight in his eyes, the blackberry-sweet taste of his mouth.

  I heard him inhale sharply, but he didn't pull his hand away.

  "That didn't count," he muttered, his surface-level prickly irritation at odds with the intense yearning beneath it. "We weren't in our right minds."

  "Does it seem like I regret it?" I asked him. For a moment, the feather brush of his thoughts pushed against mine. No regret there, but just for a moment, a spark of something hopeful. Then something old and ugly reached out and squashed it. Fear. Not immediate, life-threatening terror but the kind of stubborn fear that squats like an old toad in your chest, picking away at you a little every day.

  "Don't bother, I'll only screw it up," Cole's thoughts, in the wet clutches of his fear whispered. "She just wants something from me, anyway. They always want something. I'll find a way to ruin it. Can't touch anything without destroying it. Can't risk it. If you have something, then you have something to lose."

  As soon as he sensed my pity, Cole pulled away again. I didn't pursue him this time.

  "We're getting sidetracked again," he complained, pretending nothing had happened. "Focus. Stop trying to read my mind and just focus on the memory."

  "Right, sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I've got it this time. Go ahead."

  Cole looked skeptical, but he closed his eyes, touched my hand, and I saw the memory rise in his mind, clear as if I was there, standing in his shoes.

  "The portal didn't just drop us back in Tir Na Nog, it practically dumped us into Titania's lap."

  Chapter 3

  Cole landed hard at the feet, or more precisely roots, of Titania's throne. Ethan was sprawled out on the ground beside him, still unconscious from wolfing out and then slamming his head into a shelf on the way out of the dwarven portal. He'd have another couple of bruises to add to the list from the fall onto the stone tiles of Queen Titania's garden courtyard. She sat, huge and dark and beautiful on her living throne, looking down at Cole in mild surprise.

  Before she or Cole could say anything, Gwydion leapt through the portal, holding my unconscious body in his arms and nearly colliding with Cole. Cole's icy fear at the sight swept over me.

  "What happened?" he demanded, almost forgetting the Seelie Queen behind him.

  "I don't know," Gwydion replied, not looking at Cole but at the queen, his face pale. "Nothing good."

  "Is she alive?" Cole asked, horror filling him as he grabbed for my wrist.

  "I was a bit busy escaping the angry lich to check," Gwydion said, still only looking at the queen.

  "You're an immortal!" Cole scolded, relief on his face as he found my pulse. "He couldn't have killed you, anyway!"

  Gwydion finally moved his eyes from the queen to look at Cole with an expression to stop Cole's panic in its tracks. His tone was deceptively calm.

  "He was very, very angry."

  Cole swallowed hard.

  "I can tell you with a surprising degree of certainty," Gwydion said, looking back toward the queen. "that I would much rather be here than there. And 'here' is a place we will almost certainly not leave alive."

  There was a groan from a few feet away and Ethan sat up, holding his head.

  "What happened?" he asked, before moving his head and groaning louder. "Not this place again!"

  "My sentiments exactly," Gwydion replied.

  "How lovely to see you again, Gwydion." Titania spoke, and the world fell silent to listen. Even Cole's clamorous fear for me was muffled by the power of her voice. "And so soon! Why, I'm certain you had another three days at least. Have you brought me what you promised me?"

  Cole looked around them quickly. The portal had closed behind Gwydion and the other Fae of the court stayed out of the way at the edges of the garden, presumably concerned about being caught in the splash zone of whatever terrible fate was about to befall this pack of idiots.

  "Where's Gil?" Cole asked Gwydion, slightly frantic. "Did he stay behind in the hospital?"

  "If he had, I would be dead," Gwydion replied evenly.

  "I take that to mean you have returned unsuccessfully?" Titania asked lightly. "How kind of you to turn yourselves in rather than making Hern hunt you down. Though I assure you he would have enjoyed it. Wouldn't you, dearest?"

  Hern the hunter, with his golden crown and pack of dogs, glared at us from his place near Titania's throne.

  "Immensely," he replied.

  He held Gwydion's teleporting staff in his hand, the price we'd paid for his "assistance" with tracking Gilfaethwy. Assistance here meaning, pointing us in the right direction and giving us a five-minute head start before going after Gil himself. Fortunately, Gil had led us into the Dwarven Undercity. The dwarves were almost unsettlingly friendly, provided we knock politely and don’t contradict their assumptions that we were refugees from the unbearable sunlit lands. I highly doubted Hern would ever knock politely on a door that stood between him and his quarry, let alone allow anyone to assume he was a refugee. Judging by his numerous injuries and sour expression, the dwarves were less friendly to people that charged into the Undercity on horseback leading a pack of dogs. The dogs, at least, seemed unharmed and happy, for which I was relieved. Apparently, according to a nebulous slip of memory floating through the back of Cole's mind, Hern loved his hounds so much that any injury inflicted on them appeared on him instead. Which was kind of sweet but didn't make the guy any less of a tool.

  "Your little hunting expedition with the dwarves not go so well?" Cole asked, unable to resist an opportunity to rub a little salt in the wound.

  "They wanted to issue me a permit," Hern growled.

  "Please do not sass the Lord of the Hunt," Gwydion said under his breath. Cole rolled his eyes but didn't press. Gwydion cleared his throat and spoke to the queen. "Our return here was fortuitous but not intentional, your majesty. A teleportation mishap."

  "Seems like you're having rather a few mishaps," Titania said, eyeing my limp body in Gwydion's arms, Ethan sitting on the ground examining his head injury, and the general state of dirty, bloody disrepair we were all in.

  "Regardless," Gwydion said loudly, "we are still in pursuit of Gilfaethwy and have time to meet your ultimatum. With your permission, we will return to the search immediately."

  "You do not have it," Titania replied with a smile.

  "Pardon?" Gwydion blinked, at a loss.

  "You do not have my permission," Titania repeated. "Your fumbling bores me. You may continue the search if you insist, but you will do it from here, where I can observe and perhaps derive some miniscule entertainment."

  There was moment of silence, in which I knew Cole's fear for me boiled into indignant fury.

  "How in the fuck are we supposed to—"

  Gwydion dropped me to grab the other man and slap a hand over his mouth. I hit the ground with a thump that made me wince just watching it. Cole bit him.

  "You dropped her!" Cole said in shrill accusation as Gwydion yanked his hand away.

  "I didn't have a choice! You were about to insult the queen!"

  "Damn right I was! She—"

  Gwydion slapped a hand over Cole's mouth again and howled in pain as Cole bit him again, harder.

  Titania laughed, the sound like bells, bright, musical and artificial.

  "See?" she said. "Already this is far more entertaining."

  Ethan crawled toward where I had fallen, worry on his face becoming harrowing fear as he pulled me into his arms and realized I was more than just unconscious.

  "Guys?" he said, then louder to be heard over Cole and Gwydion's continued squabbling. "Guys!"

  They both shut up, staring at him. The pain in his eyes made me feel like I was dying all over again.

  "We need to get her to Julius," Ethan said, his voice shaki
ng. "Now."

  "I'm afraid not," Titania countered. "You will not leave this court until you've delivered what you promised to me, or I grow bored of you. And believe me. When you've lived as long as I have, you learn not to bore easily."

  Ethan’s grip tightened on my body, his eyes narrowing, but Gwydion stepped between him and Titania.

  "May I offer an alternative?" he said.

  "I'm listening," Titania replied, leaning on her hand with an amused smile.

  "I would like to propose that you don't actually want us to catch Gilfaethwy," Gwydion said. Titania blinked, her expression unmoving. Gwydion smiled. "And why would you, really? What an unpleasant, cowardly, faithless, irritating creature."

  Titania sat up but didn't interrupt him.

  "I mean, of course you want to punish him for the insult he inflicted on you," Gwydion said with a shrug. "But that was hundreds of years ago. Why force yourself to endure his presence, even long enough to destroy him, for such a petty old grudge? I know I, personally, can barely stand to be in the same room with him for more than five minutes without wanting to carve out my own heart just for the satisfaction of seeing him die with me. I have scarcely seen such a vile creature in either court!"

  "And yet you saved that vile creature's life," Titania observed.

  "Only to save my own life," Gwydion said at once.

  "Not from me," Titania interrupted with a toothy smile. "But on Earth. You have sheltered and protected him from all manner of ills which would have done you no harm despite your connection."

  "Can you blame me, though?" Gwydion asked, wrinkling his nose. "Have you seen him? What a pathetic, wretched creature. You can hardly look at him without being overwhelmed by pity and disgust. Over and over he'd come crawling to me, begging for help. 'Oh, Gwydion, I'm so dumb and useless! I bet a man my eyeteeth he couldn't beat me in a race without checking to see if he was literally the god of horses! Now he's following me everywhere with pliers! Boo hoo!'"

  Gwydion's imitation of his brother was unflattering. If I'd been conscious, I would have been laughing. Titania got a kick out of it, and several members of the court were hiding giggles.