Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Konrad waited for Wraith to respond.
But for several moments, Wraith just patted Umbra. Finally, he said, “Because the shadow king and queen did not make me wear such protective items.”
“Why not?” That made no sense to Konrad. “Did your siblings wear them?”
“They did.” But Wraith did not elaborate. Nor did he meet Konrad’s gaze. Instead he just continued patting Umbra.
Konrad couldn’t understand it. Wraith had grown up a shadow prince of Necros, one of the children of the shadow king and shadow queen. Surely they would assume he’d be born with necromantic powers and thus would be at risk of overextending himself.
So why had his parents not made Wraith wear something to protect himself?
And in his story, he’d talked of servants and stable masters.
But there was no mention of his parents or his siblings, even after he’d gotten sick and almost died.
Where had they been? Why had they not been looking after Wraith?
Then Konrad remembered what Elias had said: “I think he is lonely. Dreadfully lonely.”
Umbra flopped onto her side. Wraith rubbed her belly, features relaxed.
And then there were Wraith’s own words about Umbra: “She was the only one who’d ever loved me.”
What the fuck is going on in the royal family of Necros? Why would Wraith be so isolated and alone?
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you,” Wraith whispered as he ran his hands over Umbra’s shifting black-and-grey form.
Everyone who saw the two of them watched them with fear and apprehension, the necromancer and his hellhound. Konrad had felt the same way. So much so that he’d drawn a weapon on the hellhound. But now he saw Wraith and Umbra for what they truly were.
Just a boy and his dog.
It seemed that for many years, the two had only had each other.
Konrad remembered losing Bones. He’d been so distraught. But Konrad had always had family to care for him.
Umbra rolled around on the floor.
“You’re so good,” Wraith said. “You’re always such a good dog, my little Fluffy.”
“Fluffy?” Konrad chuckled. “She’s not very fluffy.”
Wraith froze. He looked up at Konrad, eyes wide.
“Yes.” Then he looked back down at the hellhound. “But she was fluffy before she died. She had this beautiful, soft white fur. I loved patting her and burying my face in it. So I named her Fluffy.”
Konrad frowned. “But you call her Umbra.” Which was, admittedly, a much more appropriate name for a hellhound.
“I named her Fluffy when I was a child and she was a living dog. But then she died and became my hellhound.” Wraith licked his lips. “Vex said Fluffy was a ridiculous name for a hellhound. She and Harrow laughed and would mock her.”
This was the first time Wraith had ever mentioned his brother and sister. It did not sound like they had been loving siblings.
“Others would laugh at her name too. So I changed the name from Fluffy to Umbra. I didn’t want anyone to laugh at her. I asked her, and she said she was happy for me to change it.” Wraith paused. “Most of the time, I call her Umbra. But sometimes, I still call her Fluffy.”
A smoky-foggy tongue lolled from Umbra’s mouth.
“You asked her? You can hear her talk?” Konrad asked.
Wraith nodded. “I created her. And now she speaks to me. But she can’t speak to anyone else.”
Wraith pulled off the sash that wrapped around his middle. He held out the end to Umbra. He waved it around. Umbra lunged and bit the fabric. She pulled, and Wraith pulled, in a game of tug of war. Umbra growled.
Konrad chuckled. “So she can touch objects, but not people?”
“Sometimes she can touch objects.” Wraith’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand how it works. She can touch this sash. However, your dagger would have been unable to touch her. It’s a bit confusing.”
Konrad watched them play for a few moments. “So was it worth it?”
“Was what worth it?” Wraith asked.
“Bringing her back. After all, it made you sick and almost killed you.”
“Of course it was worth it,” Wraith said, no doubt in his tone.
“Does she have any special abilities?” After all, she was a hellhound. She should be able to do something.
Umbra wrested the sash from Wraith. She shook her head, the sash flinging around.
She really is like any dog.
“She is a psychopomp.”
“A what?”
“A psychopomp,” Wraith repeated. But the word still meant nothing to Konrad. “Also called a reaper. It means she can help lead people to the beyond after death.”
“Really?” Konrad looked at the hellhound, who now chewed on the sash with teeth that only kind of looked like they existed.
Wraith nodded. He sat back in his chair, watching Umbra as she destroyed his sash. It looked like silk. But if Wraith minded the destruction of such a fine garment, he did not say so.
“I didn’t intend for her to be a reaper. But I created her when I was too young and had no training. So I had no idea what I was doing. I just went on instinct and did what my gut told me. I poured so much of myself into her that I created a helper for myself, who has the same skills as I do.”
Wraith rubbed his thigh. “I am a psychopomp. A reaper. So she is too.”
“So both of you help people move on? Like tortured spirits or something?”
Wraith inclined his head. “Ever since I was born, I could see ghosts. They seemed as real to me as the living, but they look and act very different. I had to learn that others could not see the dead.”
“Not even other necromancers?”
“Only other reapers. And we are rare. I’ve never met another one.
Many necromancers can sense spirits. But their skills do not extend to being able to talk or interact with them.
But to be a reaper, it is important that you have the ability to calm and lead them.
So you have to be able to talk to them. In years gone past, being a reaper was seen as a calling.
Those like me would have dedicated their lives to helping souls pass on. They would be revered and respected.”
“But not now?”
Wraith shook his head. “I think it’s because of the war. Who cares if someone’s soul is at rest? In fact, I had to work out most of being a reaper on my own. What was more valued were those who could raise the skeletons and corpses and compel them to fight. Vex and Harrow are both skilled at that.”
The hairs on the back of Konrad’s neck stood on end. He’d fought those skeletons and corpses. He’d fought the necromancers who raised them too. But it seemed that there was more to necromancy than he thought.
“During the couple’s quest, you spoke to the dead woman. Did you help her move on?”
“Not really,” Wraith said. “She was more than ready. Most individuals will find their own way to the other side without any assistance. She would have passed by herself. But she was a little nervous, so I told her she had nothing to fear, and then I went with her through the door so she would not be alone.”
Fire and flames! Konrad really had let his hatred of necromancers consume him and influence how he saw Wraith. And Umbra.
Since he’d met Wraith, he’d made assumptions. Anytime he’d learnt anything about Wraith, he’d looked for the worst possible motive. Konrad was not about to change his mind about necromancers in general. However, it seemed like there was much he didn’t know.
One thing he was glad of was that Wraith’s gifts did not have anything to do with the terrors Konrad had experienced during the war.
A reaper seemed like a noble calling. Something good. Which he’d never thought he’d think about any necromancer. But what could be more virtuous than helping individuals find peace after death?
Konrad breathed easier. At least he wasn’t married to one of those monster necromancers he’d fought during the war. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Wraith asked.
“Since we’ve met, I’ve made assumptions and thought the worst of you because you are a necromancer.
I judged you too quickly, and I am sorry.
And I’m sorry to Umbra too.” The hellhound in question now slept by Wraith’s feet.
The chewed sash rested on her fore-paws.
“She seems like a very special hellhound.”
“She is.” Wraith smiled directly at Konrad. The expression suited him.
“You should take your bath before the water gets cold.” Konrad’s voice came out huskier than expected.
“Oh. Right.” Wraith looked towards the bath. “I should bathe.”
Konrad cleared his throat. “If you are open to it, I could also join you.”