4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Dyre
T he corpse guard I had previously animated paused in his patrol of the courtyard for mere seconds when we stumbled through Andy's unsteady portal between realms and into the pocket world. Recognizing his master's magic signature, he resumed his sedate shuffle.
Andy waved a hand, and the portal snapped shut with a sizzling sound like displaced electricity. We all waited for a few breathless moments, but it seemed no one had followed us home.
I dropped the ankle of the new corpse I had helped Andy drag home and glanced down to study it, now that I had a moment to do a more thorough inventory. The others were talking around me, arguing over what we planned to do, but I tuned them out.
Solving magical puzzles was one of my favorite activities. It was something I'd been trained for since I was a child—how to best put my creepy—but undeniably strong—magic to use. But what I was currently proposing was so far beyond anything I'd done before. Similar to animating a corpse using my necromancer talents… but different. So very different.
My creations weren't alive. They didn't have souls or a real, working consciousness. Sometimes I built upon an echo of left behind magic, if the corpse was fresh enough. But mostly, the animation magic was all my own. Well, mine and Sunny's. But that was pretty much one and the same after all this time.
However, anchoring an intact soul into a body was new for me. It was dangerous territory. The sort of black magic that the magical community would insist was impossible, and which would probably get me beheaded if anyone knew I could do it.
Could I do it?
Probably.
Anchoring Elijah's soul to the finger bone in his current anchoring charm had been mildly challenging, but not difficult. And what was a dead body, after all, besides an empty vessel waiting to be filled?
I pressed my lips together as I took stock of the body, ignoring the chatter around me. There was just the one stab wound. That shouldn't be too difficult to remedy. The flesh was still almost alive—humming a bit with the last leftover remnants of its previous inhabitant's magic. It always felt to me as if the newly dead bodies were yearning for a short window of time after their death, something in them open and begging for their soul to return. Maybe the last spark of neurons firing or consciousness fading. Who knows? But all I had to do was convince this vessel that the soul of our spook was the one it longed for.
There may be rejection. Sunny said in my mind. His thoughts cool and clinical. We've never returned a soul before. There is no guarantee this will work. I picked up on the rest of his meaning without the need for him to speak it to me.
There was no guarantee this wouldn't hurt or damage Elijah in some strange, unexpected way. He might even come completely untethered and die for real this time.
I pulled my attention from the brown-haired corpse on the ground and spoke, interrupting the argument Andy was currently having with the rest of her harem. “If we're going to do this, we need to get to it now. The window of opportunity is closing.”
Niamh, who had been right up in Andy's face growling and gesticulating like a madwoman, let out a frustrated snort, spun and stomped away. Apparently, the fae thought what we were about to do was “unnatural.”
I wasn't fazed. Everything about me was considered “unnatural” or “creepy.” I was used to being the abomination in the room. No one ever seemed to get that what I could do was natural to me. But none of that mattered just now. What mattered was that the barely tangible thing that made for an easy connection to the body at my feet was fading fast.
Andy glanced around at the loose circle of people in the courtyard. The gargoyle was silent, but his expression was strained, as if he didn't quite know which side to take. Aahil seemed more concerned with the nullifier he was carrying than the drama playing out before him. He huffed and sat down cross-legged on a stone bench to prod at the box that held his treasure. Hasumi seemed as tranquil as ever, watching us as if we were talking about the weather.
Ambrose appeared at my side, stepping through the in between to move from one side of the courtyard to the other in a faint wash of cool fear. His black and red gaze was sharp. Curious. But he didn't comment on what he thought about the current project or my questionable talents, which was more of a relief than I wanted to admit. I wasn't used to acceptance. But apparently, I still craved it.
“There's only one person's opinion that really matters,” Andy said firmly, crossing her arms under her breasts and casting a no-nonsense look around at the others before focusing on the ghost. “Elijah, this is your choice. It's your life. No one else can make the choice for you. And they can stick their opinions up their asses, either way.”
I smirked. She really was amazing. I knew she had doubts. But she knew Elijah wanted this more than he was willing to admit, and she wouldn't hesitate, if this was what he wanted to do.
The ghost did his weird version of hand wringing, merging his appendages together then pulling them apart and reforming them over and over again. “I…” His hollow voice was full of emotion. So much more than he usually displayed. “What would this entail?” His hovering form turned toward me, the glowing blue orbs of his eyes flaring with the lingering remnants of his power.
I drew in a breath, all of my eagerness over knowledge and solving new puzzles fading under the power of that ghostly gaze. Elijah was more than a puzzle to be solved. He deserved my honesty.
“I would anchor your soul to the body much like we anchored you to the charm Andy is wearing. But the process will be much more involved. And… I can't guarantee the outcome.” I stared into his gaze, unflinching and brutally honest. “I've never done this before. Technically, it shouldn't be possible. Oh, I'm fairly certain some necromancer somewhere in history has figured it out at some point.” I shrugged. “But they were probably executed and their existence wiped from memory. So, there's no handy guidebook or grimoire to tell us what to do. And… it's not something anyone else can ever know about.”
Andy reached for the ghost as if he were solid, but her fingers trailed through him. Her gray eyes met mine. “We could lose him for good, couldn't we?”
I nodded. “It's a distinct possibility, if the body rejects the new soul. It's also possible that he might feel pain, or suffer some other consequence. I really can't say for sure.”
Elijah had been integral to our freedom. He was the one who had found Andy and convinced her to free us all from the bestiary. If not for him, I might still be a witch's slave. I really didn't want to hurt him or make him disappear. But Andy was right, it was his choice. And I wasn't going to deny him the choice if it was at all within my power. I knew what I would choose in his place. But still, the decision was his.
Elijah spun in place, as if glancing around at everyone, at the courtyard, maybe the mansion that had become his home. Just thinking, or saying goodbye? I wasn't quite sure. Everyone was silent as the seconds ticked by.
I kept a bit of my attention on the corpse at my feet. We really did need to hurry this along. The beginnings of the decay process set in faster than anyone realized. With a typical walking dead, that didn't matter. There was no real consciousness there to be offended. But in this case… even I shuddered to think about having my soul anchored to a rotting corpse.
I sent out a tendril of my magic to slow the process, to preserve what I could of that last lingering spark… to give Elijah the time he needed.
Finally, the ghost turned to Andy.
“I have endured being stuck in this form—halfway between life and death—for far, far too long. I'm… tired.” He reached out a ghostly appendage and trailed it along Andy's cheek in the parody of a caress. “If I could fully live, if I could fully be part of your world, that would be my fondest dream. But if not… if we attempt this and fail… I want you to know that finally fading is not such a horrible thought to me, as it must be to you.”
Tears welled up in those big gray eyes, but Andy nodded. “I understand. This is why it has to be your choice.”
The ghost hid the weariness well. But now that he said it… I thought we could all feel the truth of his words. He was here for Andy. But he was also a soul that had existed long past its expiration date. I thought maybe “tired” didn't even begin to cover it. And that made me feel slightly better about the risk of untethering him.
“If there is discomfort or… unpleasantness,” I said softly. “Sunny will help me pull you from your new host. It will be… well, not painless—I can't guarantee that. But we won't let you linger in suffering if we fail. Drawing souls from the living is something my other half excels at.”
Elijah's ghostly form was distinct enough for me to see his nod of acknowledgement.
“I wish to try,” the dead angel said on a gusty whisper. “Please.”
I knew it took courage for him to admit what he truly wanted. To voice desires that may not be understood or accepted by the people around him. Niamh had called the idea unnatural. If there were any other angels here, they would certainly be judging him right about now. Probably preaching about holiness and purity, or some such bullshit. And as much as he had changed since his death, he probably still heard their voices in his head, the stubborn remnants of his upbringing.
I could sympathize. The old echoes of others' disapproval and judgement were something I often had to battle with myself. But we couldn't let that keep us from living.
“Let's get this body to the workroom before it's too late,” I said, stooping and grabbing an ankle again. It would be easier to animate it and walk it down there, but I didn't want to disturb the current state of the body, lest I ruin the anchor for Elijah. Some corpses resisted repeated animation, and I had a feeling an angel's body might be one of those. Best not to find out the hard way.
Andy stooped to help me, but we both stepped back when Zhong shoved us out of the way. Squatting down, the gargoyle effortlessly scooped up the corpse and stood, looking at me for direction.
“Lead the way, necromancer,” he rumbled out. Apparently, he had made up his mind which side of the fence he was on. Hopefully the others followed suit.
But if not, fuck them.
“Come on, Elijah,” I said evenly, gesturing for Zhong to head inside. “Let's go make you a new home.”
Andy's hand found mine as we moved inside, and the way she squeezed my fingers bloodless made me glad I didn't have the same moral compass that the rest of these idiots did. Because if what we were about to do actually worked, it would mean the world to the witch at my side. And that was all that really mattered.