How to Raise the Dead

by Leigh Kelsey

  Kati nodded shallowly, braced for the pain and dizziness this time. She endured it with a defiance and pig-headedness innate only to Yorkshire-born redheads, her nostrils flaring with every aching breath. Her stomach was on fire but she didn’t dare look at the wound. Someone had taken the athame out at least, likely Rahmi before she gave Kati the barely-affective potion.

  Rahmi and Naia exchanged a look, the gravity lost to Kati in her pain-ravaged state.

  “Kati,” Rahmi said gently. “Ingrid mentioned him—your brother. She said he was much more polite, that you must be the rude member of the family for stabbing her. I think he found the tower, too, when he was at SBA.”

  Kati reeled but she shouldn’t have been surprised. What was one more secret compared to Theo being involved in black magic and elitism?

  “I think she brought him here,” Naia said, her eyes troubled, “like she brought you here. Ghosts can affect the dreams of mortals.”

  Kati rested her head back against the wall. It made sense—if no one else knew the tower existed, there were only two explanations: Kati really was an augur, or the ghosts had wanted her here. “But why? So she could lock me up in a cell?”

  “I don’t know,” Naia admitted, unravelling her plait so she could nervously re-braid it.

  Rahmi tilted her head back against the low wall, her knees to her chest. “I’m more worried about the woman they keep going on about; she sounds like their master.”

  “No,” Naia disagreed, shaking her head so hard her glasses nearly slipped off. “It’s more respectful, almost reverent. Do ghosts have gods?”

  “You tell me,” Kati replied, gritting her teeth as another wave of pain hit, her vision momentarily blurring. “You know everything about everything; if ghosts had gods, you’d know about it.”

  Naia looked pleased, but mildly so, not the beaming grin she’d have normally given Kati.

  “Two things,” Kati panted, trying to collect her fraying thoughts before she passed out again, “Rahmi, you got any more of that potion?”

  Rahmi’s brow furrowed, her amber eyes flashing with apology, and Kati already knew her answer. “I’m sorry, Kati. That was the only one I had; I didn’t realise I’d need more.”

  “It’s fine,” Kati said, although it wasn’t.

  “And the second thing?” Naia prompted, a horrible hopeful expression on her face, like Kati could fix everything.

  “How the hell do we get out of here?” When the torment eased up, Kati took advantage of her temporary clarity and fumbled at her arm, but her wand wasn’t in its holster.

  “Here,” Naia said quickly, relief spearing Kati as she passed over her ebony wand. Kati gripped it tight. That was twice now she’d been separated from it. She’d be damned if it happened a third time. “I grabbed it from the floor when you dropped it. The ghosts didn’t seem to care that we had our wands; I don’t think spells have any effect on them.”

  “The smoke did,” Kati said, gritting her teeth in an effort to hold onto consciousness. “Until I fucked up and showed them where we were. Any more smoke bombs?”

  Rahmi shook her head. “I have a storm serum,” she suggested. “That could work, it fills the air with rain clouds and thunderstorms.”

  “Chances we’d get hit by lightning?” Kati bit out, struggling to hold on.

  “Pretty high,” Rahmi admitted. “But it’s something.”

  Kati nodded slowly. “I might be able to break the bars. Maybe. But not when I’m about to pass out.”

  Naia moved quickly, putting her arm around Kati to prop her up. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Thanks,” Kati rasped, blackness rolling in once more. “I didn’t want any friends, but I’m glad I met you fuckers.”

  “Likewise,” Rahmi replied. “We’ll get out of here, Kati.”

  Kati wasn’t so sure. The ghosts wanted something from her. Theo was involved, yet again. The poltergeists had a god, and believed only legacies should be allowed to learn magic like the Old Academy did. And the Stolen Tower was real.

  But if this was real, and Kati and her friends had found it … dread followed her into the black, and a memorised passage floated into her head, as if placed there by her subconsciousness.

  The Wilson childe will unveil the Thievede Tower.

  Thievede. Thieved. Stolen.

  The Wilson child will unveil the Stolen Tower. But if the first part of the prophecy was real, what about the rest—the part that said she’d take on a great evil. The part that didn’t mention if she’d survive or not.

  SENTENCE AND SAVIOURS

  Kati woke this time to a sweet, childlike voice, projected loudly by the stone walls and the high ceiling. “Everett Lavellian, you are charged as a traitor to your species and a betrayer of the Second Breath Academy ghost brethren. You continued to teach mongrel students when you were warned to cease, you spread lies of equality, and you encourage legacies and mongrels to mix. For these crimes, and for your continued defiance of this sacred ghost law, you have been sentenced to eternal nothing.”

  “Eternal nothing?” Kati asked groggily.

  “Shh,” Rahmi hissed, huddling closer to Kati, her eyes wide and fixed on the scene below.

  Kati’s head felt clearer than it had the last time she’d woken, her wound healed a little more, the pain a little more muted. Focussing on the room below, she saw there was a sigil in the brickwork of the floor, a spiral within a circle, intersected by a straight line through the bottom. It looked like a fucked-up lollipop, the sort that usually decorated gingerbread houses in kids’ films.

  “Naia?” Kati whispered. “Any ideas what the sigil means?”

  Naia nodded, chewing her lip. “It means emptiness.”

  Kati blinked, wondering at its meaning but forgetting it altogether as the ghosts below began chanting. They were an odd collection, dressed in different styles from different eras, but all of them fuelled by malice and focussed on the prone form of Lavellian curled up in the middle of the stone spiral, practically transparent. Weak, Kati had to assume, to be nearly invisible.

  She wanted to help him, but for starters she had no idea how to stop a poltergeist like Ingrid let alone save a ghost like Lavellian, and a much bigger problem were the bars separating Kati and her friends from the room below. Not to mention the room was below; it looked like their little nook in the wall was fifty feet in the air. They could jump it, sure, but would they land with bones all intact? It seemed unlikely.

  “You can’t do this,” Lavellian protested weakly, but even his voice was faint, easily covered by the chants of the other ghosts. It was like something out of a horror film, only the ghosts should have been wearing dark cloaks, all hooded, not in ruffles and frou frou dresses.

  “Call the Medium!” Ingrid demanded, her high voice carrying above the others.

  Kati watched, her heart in her throat and her whole body tense, as a female ghost came forward in a big, poofy dress, faded and threadbare in places. Her hair was done up in elaborate waves and curls, her face powdered a pale shade—or death had leached all colour from her, Kati couldn’t tell which. The spirit took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and said, “Come to the tower. We have need of you.”

  Kati, Naia, and Rahmi watched the patch of stone they’d entered through with growing trepidation, the chants of the ghosts below growing. For the moment, the three of them had been forgotten, but would they be next when Lavellian had been killed? What had Ingrid called it—the emptiness? Was that their sentence too?

  “If we’re gonna do something, it needs to be when they’re distracted by this Medium,” Rahmi whispered. “Kati, you said you could get us out?”

  She shrugged. “I have an idea, but I don’t know it’ll work. And what about the drop?”

  “I know a charm,” Naia said nervously. “I’ll cast it as soon as we jump, but we’ll have to jump at the exact same time for it to work on all of us.”

  Kati nodded, fear tightening her breaths to thin wisps. “So
I break us out, Naia, you slow our fall, and Rahmi, you let loose that storm spell.”

  Rahmi’s eyes were hard as she nodded, palming a golden vial flickering with lightning. Unlike Kati who was wrecked but pretending she was fine and Naia who was terrified, Rahmi seemed collected and in charge of her emotions. “I’m ready.”

  So was Kati, as terrified and aching as she was.

  “Naia?” Kati asked.

  Her wand at a ready position, Naia nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”

  A genuine smile crossed Kati’s face as she lifted her wand, her other arm at a right angle in front of her chest. A sense of belonging curled around her, giving her strength as she waited for the ghosts to face the figure who’d emerged through the glowing blue wall. The Medium.

  Obscured by a deep hood, she stepped through the wall exactly as Kati, Rahmi, and Naia had minutes or hours before. Unlike what Kati had pictured—a long robe, crushed velvet dress, and mysticism pouring from her—the newcomer wore baggy jeans, a loose hoodie, and scuffed shoes, and she walked with a shambling reluctance.

  When she reached the ghost in the big, poofy dress who’d summoned her, the Medium pushed back her hood and Kati inhaled sharply. Rahmi swore under her breath. The Medium was Harley Albright, Gull’s best mate.

  “Kati,” Rahmi hissed. “Now!”

  Dragging her gaze away from Harley’s empty expression, Kati recited the shield spell Mrs Grant had taught her and sliced her thumb on the thorn of her wand, pressing so much power into the spell that it exploded in a shower of purple sparks.

  Wasting no time, with the ghosts turning to look at Harley, Kati slammed her magic shield into the bars caging them. Embers flew off the shield but it held, and the bars rattled. The impact shot up the bones of Kati’s arm, but she refused to stop until she and her friends were free.

  Another slam and the bars buckled. Sweat rolled down Kati’s back, her head flaring with pain, but she lashed out again and this time the bars, solid or spectral or both, crumpled. Kati held her breath as they twisted, tilted backwards, and then crashed to the floor far below.

  “Now,” Naia shouted as some of the ghosts turned at the sound. “Jump now!”

  Kati threw herself out of the cell, not caring whether Naia’s spell slowed them or not, just needing to run, to escape, to get out. She screamed as the ground rushed towards her, the sound ripped from her throat, but a force grabbed hold of her and yanked her back, slowing her speed like a parachute. Kati hit the floor hard enough to bruise her skin and rattle her bones but not hard enough to break them. Still, it was hard to feel gratitude when brutal fiery pain returned to her stomach wound, blazing and screaming, taking possession of her entire body.

  Gasping, battling the urge to curl into a ball to deal with the pain but too conscious of the danger all around her, Kati clenched her fingers around her wand and stumbled to her feet. She’d just managed to get her feet beneath her when a thunderclap filled the tower chamber. Kati sagged in relief. Rahmi had thrown the potion. That meant she’d landed safely, too.

  Lightning speared through the suddenly cloud-filled room and Kati flinched. Which way was the exit? How many ghosts stood between them? And what about Harley? Had the ghosts led her here like they’d led Kati through her dreams? But then what did Ingrid mean by calling her the Medium?

  Kati would have frozen under the onslaught of panic but Naia grabbed her arm and pulled her up and into a run, whispering encouragements as Kati panted and stifled cries of pain.

  She stumbled after her friend, running blindly. It felt better to be moving, to be trying to escape even if it failed. Lavellian forgotten, Kati selfishly pursued her own freedom.

  “This way,” Rahmi panted a few feet ahead, shrieking as a lightning bolt hit the floor a metre in front of them, lighting up the room enough for Kati to see Lavellian collapsed on the floor at her feet. Guilt sliced into her, and she gritted her teeth as she knelt beside him. The room turned dim again, thunderclouds swallowing the light, but her hands passed right through him.

  “Go,” he croaked. “Get … help.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kati gasped. “I tried to get here in time…”

  “Kati!” Naia screamed. “Kati, where are you?”

  “Go,” Lavellian repeated. “They want … you. Take you to … your brother. And her.”

  “Her?” Kati rasped, a raw blade stabbing her chest. The ghosts wanted to take her to Theo? Part of her longed for it, rejoiced, but the rest of her—the part that now knew he was a complete bastard, an elitist, and not the brother she knew—shrank away from the idea. But her? Who was Theo hiding with? Kati couldn’t remember him mentioning a girlfriend—and wouldn’t Salazar have told her if Theo had one? He’d mentioned Bo Chen and told her Colen Greensmith was her brother’s partner in crime.

  Kati shuddered, wishing she had some of that calming tonic Iain had given her, wishing he was here so he could kiss away her panic. “Lavellian?” Kati whispered, trying to grasp him even though he was incorporeal. “What do you mean she?”

  He never replied. Kati wanted to scream at him to explain what the hell he meant but instead she pushed to her feet, shaking, and whispered, “Naia? Rahmi?”

  “Souls, Wilson,” Rahmi breathed. “You scared the shit out of us.”

  “Lavellian’s out. We need to get help.”

  “This way,” Naia said, her voice trembling as much as her hand when she grabbed hold of Kati’s arm.

  “The wall,” Kati began but she didn’t have the courage to finish the thought. All this had been for nothing if the wall was still closed off.

  “It’ll open,” Rahmi said in a hard voice. “I’ll make it open.”

  Kati took courage from Rahmi’s determination, drew a full breath into her lungs despite the pain it speared through her stomach, and lifted her wand. But this time she wouldn’t be stupid enough to cast a spell unless they were already discovered.

  “Find them!” Ingrid shouted, sounding like a child throwing a tantrum. “What use is a Medium if she can’t find three wayward students in the same soulsdamned room as her?”

  Kati and her friends moved quicker, shrieking when lightning bolts struck close to them, shivers racing down Kati’s spine at the rumbles of thunder overhead. The sound filled the whole room, the circular walls amplifying it until her ears ached from the noise.

  “I can’t find the wall!” Rahmi gasped, panic making her voice higher.

  “Where—” Kati began to ask but an explosion cut her off.

  The tower room filled with light, booming sound, and flying bricks as part of the wall opposite them blasted open. A stone clipped Kati’s forehead, blood trickling into her eyes, but she was grinning as the smoke and ash cleared to show the figures of three people and one tiny black pug silhouetted in the blown-out hole in the wall.

  At the sight of a rescue, every bit of strength left Kati, her stubborn need to hold on dropping away. Torturous pain blurred Kati’s sight and bit through her consciousness until she swayed on weak legs.

  Thanks, Kati thought in Dolly’s direction. I totally forgot about you, but I’m pretty fucking glad you’re my familiar.

  You’re welcome, Dolly said magnanimously. But you don’t look too hot, Kit-Kat.

  Don’t, Kati replied, the room going fuzzy and dark, the world slipping out from under her, call me Kit-Kat.

  Sure thing, Kit-Kat, Dolly replied. Oh look, here comes Prince Charming.

  Kati braced for her body to hit the hard stone ground as her legs buckled, but instead strong arms caught her up. Even crippled by pain, blood pouring from her wound yet again, she smiled. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know whose arms had caught her.

  Prince Charming indeed.

  PROBABLE PORTENTS OF DOOM

  Kati sighed, curling further into the warm cocoon of amber magic, utterly content as soothing, gentle waves of power brushed up against her skin like a lazy current against a shore. She would have laid there forever, her eyes closed, breathing even,
if someone beside her hadn’t taken a quick intake of breath and shouted, “Nurse Gardner!”

  Another voice continued, “She just moved! I think she’s awake!”

  Kati groaned, the warm cocoon disturbed by the loud voices and sudden motion beside her bed. Fingers pried open her eyelids and Kati met them with a glare. Groaning in frustration, she turned her head away from the probing fingers and opened her eyes herself to scowl with all her temper at the woman bending over her, clad in a long dress and apron, a silver-speckled black braid falling over her shoulder.

  “Well,” Nurse Gardner said with a flickering smirk, “she’s awake. And she looks in a right good mood.”

  “Maybe if I hadn’t woken up to someone bursting my eardrums and a nurse peeling my eyes out,” Kati muttered.

  Nurse Gardner chuckled. “Sorry about that, couldn’t be sure you weren’t talking in your sleep again.”

  “Again?” Kati asked, narrowing her eyes at Naia and Rahmi, the source of the screaming at her bedside.

  Naia chewed her lip and glanced away.

  Rahmi just gave her an assessing look and then, deciding Kati could handle it, she said, “You kept saying Theo’s name.”

  Kati forced a casual shrug, ignoring the heat in her face and the burning in her eyes. “Is that it? I thought I’d said something really embarrassing for a minute.” She forced a smile but knew it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I’ll go get you a restorative solution,” Nurse Gardner said, then fixed Kati with a stare. “Don’t get any ideas about leaving that bed.”

  Kati didn’t feel like moving; the cocoon was so warm and comforting that she’d rather stay inside it, even if it did give everything outside it a yellowish cast. It was Iain’s magic, she recognised the colour of it. “What happened after I…”

  “Fainted and was spectacularly rescued?” Rahmi offered with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Yeah,” Kati agreed, rolling her eyes. “That.”

  “A lot,” Naia sighed, meeting Kati’s gaze again. “Madam Hawkness, Mrs Balham, and Mr Worth came into the tower and … Mrs Balham did something to round up the ghosts, I’m not sure what.”