Unholy Spirit (The Necromancer's Daughter Book 3)

by Genevra Black

  “I’ve noticed.” Marius huffed. How could he not notice, the way Cal treated Matilda—Tilda, he corrected himself. She wanted him to call her what everyone else did. “He goes off on his own a lot, doesn’t he?”

  Edie snorted. “Yes. And not always at the best times, either.”

  “But you don’t control him.”

  “He’s his own person.” She looked at him, frowning. “Why, would you?”

  Marius considered it for only a second. “No. But I’m not a….” The words died in his throat, and he pursed his lips tightly.

  “But you’re not a hellerune,” she finished flatly, and sighed.

  He looked over at her. Was she … upset? When they’d first met, she had seemed indignant to any suggestion that she was evil by nature, but now was different. She looked tired and sad.

  Marius sat up a little straighter. “Necromancers usually raise the dead, and most wouldn’t do so without the intent to control them. That’s all I meant.”

  “Yeah.” She scrubbed the side of her face.

  He could tell his explanation hadn’t been enough. And, if they were getting technical, it was only the creation of a revenant that stole raw, pure life energy—husks were typically soulless, driven on by magic instead of sentience or a compulsion to follow orders. Edie hadn’t done anything like that since accidentally raising her hamster from the dead, as far as he knew. Guilt settled in his stomach at the look on her face.

  He was trying to find the words to apologize when she continued on without waiting: “I hope the hellerune here isn’t like that. But with our luck, he’ll be, like, a murderer or something.”

  Marius peered at her. “Can you feel him?”

  “I don’t know. I feel something, but I’m not sure what it is.”

  “What is it like?”

  “It’s like … electricity.” Edie peered over at him. “Can you feel it?”

  Marius shook his head.

  “I guess it must be him, then,” she concluded with a sigh. She scrubbed her face again. “Or something having to do with the Reach, maybe.”

  “It seems more likely that a hellerune would be able to sense another hellerune.” Marius sat up straighter, tucking one leg under himself so he could turn toward her. “Do you think you’d be able to locate him if we set you loose?”

  She chuckled, smiling, and Marius gritted his teeth as his heart thudded. But her lightened mood only lasted a few seconds before she answered solemnly, “Yeah, I think I could. If we can get around through all this snow.”

  "We'll figure out a way. We're going to have to if we want to find him before Indriði does."

  They sat on the couch for well over an hour, chatting and falling into silence at intervals. The sun eventually rose, but it barely filtered through the steely clouds lording over the city, filling the living room with thin morning light. Marius laid his head back briefly and must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew, Edie was presenting him with a plate of fried eggs and plain toast.

  "Sorry I'm not much of a cook," she said sheepishly, looking down at her own plate. Her toast was completely blackened. "I'm surprised I didn't wake you with the smell."

  "It’s fine," he said, taking the plate. "Thank you."

  He glanced out the window at the sun and felt a twinge of guilt when he realized he hadn't said rising prayers.

  Beside him, Edie was already wolfing her food down, burned toast be damned. She dipped her charcoal into the yolk of her egg and said between bites, "I never got to ask you what you thought of the music you were listening to on the drive down. It, uh, looked like you were enjoying it."

  Marius smiled, happy to have a distraction. "It was better than I thought it would be … but also different."

  "What kind of music do you usually listen to?"

  "Traditional music, I suppose." He shrugged. "I like it well enough. It's not bad. And our people do still live in the world, of course, so I'll occasionally listen to some pop music."

  "Really? I find it hard to imagine you jamming out to some Taylor Swift."

  Marius snorted. "I'm not sure who that is, but you never know. I never left the temple long enough to discover my music taste, and it's not as though there were many avenues for me to discover it otherwise. No internet access."

  "But you..." Edie began, and then paused, shaking her head.

  "I what?"

  She glanced at him uncertainly, her cheeks turning a shade pinker. "When we ... ran into each other at the party, I told a joke about the Cure, and you laughed. So you knew my kind of music even before hearing it."

  Oh, Tyr. How was he supposed to explain that he'd had an issue of Rolling Stone hidden under his bed like a dirty magazine for the past five years? That he'd read it from cover to cover nearly a hundred times? Furthermore, how was he supposed to explain that he still had it—with him now, in fact, packed in his bag? If he told Edie that, she'd laugh at him.

  He cleared his throat and simply answered, "It's a long story." That would have to suffice for now.

  She looked like she wanted to ask him more questions, but her attention was turned elsewhere when a figure entered the living room doorway. Marius followed her gaze, polishing off the last of his eggs.

  Satara stood there, already dressed cozily but looking as exhausted as Marius felt. Exhausted seemed to be all their default states of late, but her most of all, with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands. Folded protectively around her shoulders were the shadowy wings of a fledgling valkyrie, the ones she had revealed to him and Edie a fortnight ago in Astrid's home.

  Marius’s heart sank when, with a deep breath and a grimace, she spread them. They shuddered with what must be immense pain. The last time he had seen them, they'd been feathery and healthful looking, albeit not quite opaque in all places. Now, they almost sagged under their own weight, the incorporeal feathers sparse in one or two places as though she was molting. The very tips of them almost seemed to weep, like bleeding ink on a painter's canvas.

  How could things have changed so drastically in just two weeks?

  "Are you okay?" Edie asked in a hushed tone, standing and going to her at once.

  Satara kept her body drawn inward, but she relaxed when Edie touched her arm. Her voice was thick. "I— I just hope we can figure things out soon. It gets more painful every day."

  "But ... I thought we had more time."

  The shieldmaiden took another deep breath. "There's never enough time."

  Edie was quiet, her gaze drifting to the floor thoughtfully. Marius looked at Satara, and the heartbreak in her face made it hard for him to stay where he was. They didn't know each other very well yet, and he wasn't sure how he could comfort her, but the urge was almost overwhelming.

  After a moment of silence, Edie looked back up and asked, "D'you want me to make you breakfast? There's plenty of eggs and bread and other stuff in the kitchen."

  Satara cast a subtle glance in Marius's direction, and he shook his head.

  "I'm fine," she said, taking a step away. "I can make my own food. But thank you."

  Edie seemed disappointed but didn't argue. As Satara entered the kitchen, the necromancer drifted back to the couch and curled up again, staring at her black-painted toenails. Marius could tell she was deep in thought, so he left her to it, instead going to stand by the window.

  In the distance, the East River flowed almost like ink under the darkened sky, and the peaks of the Queensboro Bridge were covered in white. The blizzard had cleared, but the city still wore a mantle of snow, with eddies drifting here and there in the chilly winds. Climate patterns hadn't been as predictable as they should be of late, but a blizzard in July? It was more than concerning. If he didn't know any better—

  Satara reentered the living room, and Marius turned away from the window to keep an eye on her. Her wings were hidden from sight as she settled in the middle of the couch, and he couldn't help but envy her avocado toast and omelet with hot sauce, even as she listlessly pushed it arou
nd on the plate. At least she was eating. He'd noticed her struggle with that, too.

  "I wonder if there's someone around here who can help," Edie said suddenly. "Help us figure out how to transition you. We have to do something, I mean, there's no other choice."

  Marius considered this as he sank into a nearby armchair. He still cursed himself for never finding more information in his father's library—he'd become completely sidetracked when the letter from Tara had suddenly arrived. "The secret Reach may be able to help." He frowned. "If we believe the theory that they've set up a network to protect the other hellerune from the Gloaming, they must have more resources than we do."

  "And once we find the hellerune," Edie continued, "he'll be able to bring us to whatever books or scrolls or … I don’t know … wax tablets they have."

  Satara sighed, cutting up her omelet but not eating it. "There's a huge chance that whatever ritual I'm supposed to complete for my investiture is secret. That it's never been written down, it's supposed to pass from valkyrie to shieldmaiden." She held her forehead with one hand. "There's a good chance that I'll never be able to find it."

  "Maybe we could ask a valkyrie." Edie shrugged. "There has to be someone around here who knows something. We can't just give up."

  The shieldmaiden looked at her seriously. "I'm not giving up. I'm being realistic. The sooner I come to terms with the fact that I could very well die, the better, Edie."

  "But what about Indriði?"

  "If the last thing I ever do is go up against a Norn, at least I won't have died sitting and waiting for it to happen." Satara stared at her food, then set it aside to rub her temples. "I ... I still hope you're right. I hope someone here can tell me how to fix this."

  Edie nodded and said gently, "No time like the present. I guess we start looking today."

  "Perhaps you could scry," Marius suggested.

  "I'm not sure. Considering what happened last time..."

  He quirked a brow in silent question. They had all been living together for a couple weeks, but he still sometimes had to be filled in on what the Reach had been doing in all the time before.

  "Last time we scried, I'm pretty sure we saw Indriði. Or I did, anyway."

  "She's extremely powerful," Satara said. "However powerful you think she is, take it and multiply it by nine. We opened a mirror to look at her, and she turned it into a window."

  "So it will only give away our position." Marius sighed and shifted to cross his legs under him. "I suppose that's out, then."

  "But I think..." Edie began, then paused. "I think I'm getting a pull toward the other hellerune, so ... if I can follow the pull, maybe we can do it without scrying or divining or anything."

  The shieldmaiden considered for a moment before nodding. "If you think you can follow it, we may as well try."

  After making sure Satara ate at least a little food, Marius and Edie left to get ready for the day. Marius showered quickly, moisturized, and decided not to slick his hair within an inch of its life, as the necromancer had so eloquently put it. Figuring there wasn't much chance of battle, he threw on regular street clothes before emerging into the common area again.

  Satara was reading, and Marius went to the window so as not to bother her. A few minutes later, Edie came out, too, in the process of putting her wet hair up into a careless bun. As she did, she looked around the room, brow furrowing. "Where—"

  Before the question could even leave her lips, the click of the door unlocking startled them all. A second later, Cal came barreling into the entryway, blue eyes wide.

  Three variations of "What's the matter?" came from his captive audience, and in response, he spat out a breath.

  "Couple blocks from here. Shit. You guys gotta see this."

  Chapter Six

  When Edie stepped out of the apartment building and onto the sidewalk, she expected to see Ghost waiting for them—but to her surprise, the haunted Cadillac was nowhere to be seen.

  Cal was already walking briskly toward the corner, and she and the others were forced to keep up with him as she asked, "Where's Ghost? I thought we were going somewhere."

  "No Ghost," he answered, waving around at the city in frustration. "This fucking traffic is demented; finding my way through was a bitch ’n’ a half. The damn street's blocked off, anyway."

  "What street?"

  He didn't answer. Edie simply exchanged glances with Marius and Satara before picking up speed to keep pace with the frustrated revenant. As they hurried along, icy rain came down, so Edie was careful on the pavement. The last thing she needed was to slip and break her arm on top of everything else.

  It wasn't long before she understood what Cal had been talking about. A few blocks down, they turned a corner and were immediately faced with a crowd of people in the middle of the road. Police cars were parked on either side of the street, with a cruiser idling diagonally across the median, and officers seemed to be corralling the shouting crowd—smallish, some holding signs.

  In front of the crowd, they had set up metal barriers, and beyond them, Edie could see another, even bigger crowd. They were clustered around a platform, holding signs of their own and chanting, though she couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. A few people were attempting to erect a large awning for them to stand under, and one above the platform as well. A rally?

  "What a shitshow," Cal mumbled before plunging into the smaller crowd of people.

  Edie and the others had little choice but to follow him, doing their best to shield themselves from the rain as they did. As they pushed through the crowd, signs were waved above them, familiar words and phrases shouted—but Edie was more focused on following Cal and didn't fully register what was going on around her.

  She, Satara, and Marius finally came to a stop next to Cal at the forefront of the smaller crowd, the swell of people pressing them up against the barrier.

  She squinted through the rain at the rally before them, trying to make out what was happening. But they were too far away for her to read their signs, and the shouting of the crowd around them made it hard to hear the chanting.

  "What is this, exactly?" Satara called over the noise, looking at Cal.

  "I dunno what it is exactly, but—"

  Marius touched Edie's arm, grabbing her attention. "Didn't Yuval say something about the recent protests in the city?"

  She nodded in reply. "Yeah, but who's protesting?" After a pause, she said, "I'm going in deeper."

  "Edie—" Cal began.

  "I'll be two seconds. Wait here!"

  Before anyone could stop her, she was scooting along the edge of the barrier, trying to find a break in it. The only way they were going to get a straight answer was if she melted into the crowd and had a quick look herself; she'd be in and out in a minute or so.

  It took a bit of looking, but she finally found an in. The barriers the police had lined up didn't quite span the width of the street, and they had tried to make up for it by blocking the tiny gap with the front half of a cruiser. With a cursory glance, Edie saw that no one was watching the area, all much more focused on the crowd they were trying to keep out. She leapt over the hood of the cruiser unceremoniously and slithered into the bigger crowd.

  From the other end of their connection, she could feel Cal watching her movements closely. She continued worming her way carefully toward the rally's epicenter, but it wasn't long until she could feel him tug the thread between them, the volume of his emotions rising. Edie looked back and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the crowd. He must have lost sight of her, because he was leaning forward and squinting into the rain with a hand shading his eyes.

  Shit. She should signal him before he decided she wasn't safe and came running in after her. She stood on her tiptoes to try to get a clear look at him, head bobbing over the shoulders of the ... mostly male crowd, she was now realizing. But the realization was only a twinge in the back of her mind as she raised her arms as high as she could, waving wildly in Cal's direction so
he could find her again.

  "Hey, lady," said a voice beside her.

  Edie barely glanced at the speaker as she shifted to the side, assuming he wanted her to scoot over.

  But instead, he followed her the step she had taken, continuing to speak: "I like your tattoos!"

  For some reason, that statement stopped her dead in her tracks. Tattoos ... there was something wrong with the way he'd said it. Why did that sound wrong?

  She lowered her arms. Stretching them up that high and waving them had caused the sleeves of her leather jacket to ride up, exposing her wrists. Her gaze touched the runes tattooed there, ingwaz and ehwaz, and then flew to the man who'd spoken to her.

  When she saw him, things started to come together. Dread filled her.

  He was a little older than her, probably in his late twenties, wearing wraparound sunglasses and sporting a high ponytail with an undercut. His beard was separated into three awkward braids, and he held a giant poster board. The stark red paint was starting to run, but the images were still clear: three ornate interlocking triangles framed by a pair of wings, and the words ODINIST PRIDE WORLDWIDE.

  Oh, shit. How had she not realized it earlier? These were, without a doubt, the people Yuval had warned them about.

  Blood Eagles.

  Edie had no response for the man. She stared, wide-eyed, backing up as far as she could before bumping into someone else. The man in front of her as well as a few others watched her, confusion and an agitated kind of nervousness radiating from them.

  For the first time since arriving on the scene, she really looked around her. Styles of dress ran the gamut from tactical vests and helmets to polos and khakis; there were men in baseball caps and men with dark sunglasses and scarves covering their mouths. All around her, signs similar to the one the man was holding glared with big block letters and stark, angular symbols, the sight of which turned her stomach. Others held homemade shields, or waved flags.

  She already knew that by not responding to the compliment, she had outed herself as an interloper. Without a second glance, she turned away and began shouldering her way through the crowd once more.