Chapter 37 #2
If she could feel the bones, hold them, could she … Something, some inherent part of her, knew that the fresher the bones, the better, the greater the power she might have over them.
She doubled back toward the entrance. She’d passed a sarcophagus earlier in which the bones had practically called out to her; it felt as though they were itching to dance out of the stone.
It didn’t take her long to find it again.
The tomb was ornate; flowers had been carved into the sides, along with a prayer in a language she could not read. Atop the stone lid was an effigy of a young girl, maybe fifteen, who lay at rest, her features soft, her eyes closed, her curly hair a crown atop her head.
Audra could tell that she was one of the last to be laid to rest here … and so she placed her hands on the lid, gritted her teeth, and pushed.
The grit of the stone bit painfully into the soft flesh of her palms. She scrabbled for purchase against the dusty floor, but her boots slipped anyway. Despite all her effort, the lid didn’t budge.
She cursed, stepping back and crossing her arms, staring at the tomb.
How could she check her theory if she couldn’t get to the bones?
She needed …
The air crackled with ozone, with something wild and primordial, something that clawed at the fae’s meticulous order and laughed.
Or not something … someone. Zhaire stepped out from a Veilway, and with a flick of his hand, it closed behind him. As if he knew that much light did not belong here, that this was a room where the dead slept, and the dead preferred the dark.
Maybe he did know. He was from the underworld, after all.
Audra blinked away the halos left behind by his blinding Veilway, but it seemed that Zhaire required no time for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
Why should he, when he himself was spun from darkness? He did not wear his usual form today. Instead, he was as she saw him in her dreams. Midnight blue skin, constellations of shimmering stars embedded in his flesh. His eyes, glowing embers, shining like twin moons in the night sky.
His true self.
Audra, who had almost grown used to his appearing out of the blue, felt as if she was seeing him for the first time all over again.
He surveyed her, a slow, deliberate gaze that felt like a hand on her throat. He walked as if the very stone beneath his feet acknowledged his dominion. A faint, sad smile curved his lips. “I wondered how long it would take you to find them.”
She dared not ask who … for she was so afraid of the answer. She bit her lip, trying to contain the question, but, damn it, he was infuriating, and even if she was afraid of the answer, she had to know. “What did I find?”
“One of your fellow Heirs.”
“This is their resting place? But each being had such a violent end.”
“That is the nature of the Heir, if left to the Zenaidans.” He walked around the sarcophagus that had held Audra’s attention when he’d appeared. “What have you learned about the ritual that restarts the seasons?”
Audra glowered. Frustrated that everything she’d tried so far had been fruitless.
“Not much. It’s not in any of the texts here.
I was originally thinking they kept it under wraps as a state secret—they didn’t want their enemies, or even their allies, to know how to perform the ritual.
But then, I began to wonder if it was much more nefarious than that.
If they kept it secret, because they didn’t want even their own populace to discover what truly happens to the Heir. ”
A nod. “It’s probably both reasons; it’s beneficial to keep the dark, violent truth of it secret, otherwise people wouldn’t be so willing to give up their babies, if they knew that only through vicious means can the ritual be completed.”
“Can you help me remove the lid? I want to try something.”
His gaze swung to hers. “Only if you agree to answer a question truthfully.”
“What?” She scoffed. “That’s ridiculous, you won’t just help me?”
An arched brow. “You should know, demons don’t usually go around helping mortals for free.”
“Fine, I’ll answer one question. But that’s it—and you have to help me close it too.”
“Sounds like a deal.” His stony gaze gave nothing away as he moved to stand beside her. He placed his hands on the stone. His voice dipped low. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Audra shivered, placing her hands next to his, suddenly incredibly aware of how close they were.
She nodded, preparing to push, then— “Wait, aren’t you going to ask the question first?” She closed her eyes. Stupid, why had she asked that? She’d just been shocked that he was helping her before getting his due.
He laughed, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Later. Push.”
With his help, the lid relented easily. They slid it open enough that she could see inside, but not far enough that they risked it falling.
She whispered an apology to whoever’s resting place this was, and reached her hands inside.
It didn’t take her long to find a finger bone.
A girl. Her hands were clasped on her chest, lying atop the fabric of her dress, which had been eaten away by time.
The bone came away easily, as though it wanted to be picked up, to be held by her.
Bone in hand, she held it up to examine it more closely.
She’d never held a human bone before. Animal bones, yes. Fish bones, many times. But human bone …
It thrummed and hummed, waiting.
Zhaire fixed his heavy-lidded gaze on her as she twirled the bone in her fingers. “It calls to you.” Not a question, a statement; he already knew the answer, as if he’d known this would happen.
“It’s odd, but … it’s as though she wanted me to find her.”
“Command the bone.”
She twisted her face. “What? How?”
“Come with me, so I may teach you. Only by learning to control your necromancy powers will you be safe.”
Necromancy … She’d never heard the word, so like “incramancy,” before. But “necromancy” sounded more right, somehow. Like it fit her.
“I can’t …” But she wanted to, that ache of old rising within her, telling her to be selfish, to just go. Necromancy … necromancer … She could be a necromancer.
A sigh. “Still, with the hesitation. What is keeping you here? Was yesterday not enough to scare you away? Or do you crave a violent end, such as these others met? Left to rot, hidden away in this crypt without a single visitor?”