Necromancer Revealed: Book 3

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  "Join hands," she instructed. After we did, she said, "Repeat after me: vinculo sanguine."

  "Vinculo sanguine," we chanted.

  “Die hac et in aeternum.”

  “Die hac et in aeternum.”

  “Nos simul ad conteram seorsum.”

  “Nos simul ad conteram seorsum.”

  A surge of dark red, pulsing energy shot from Echo and circled around our clasped hands. It followed our veins and made them glow, and I could feel three powerful, distinct signatures join with my blood. I could smell them, which was odd. Rain scented one, and I breathed that one in deep to soak it all the way into my soul. The other smelled like earth and fresh flowers, and the third was peppermint but with an invigorating feeling attached to it like after running hard or stretching sore muscles.

  "Keep your eyes closed and memorize each other's signatures. You feel them?" Echo asked.

  "Yes," I breathed. "What do I smell like?"

  "Bread," they said at once.

  I snorted. I should've known. I’d eaten so much of it throughout my life, I could probably sweat whole loaves of it. Gods, could you imagine?

  Ramsey healed Echo and Jon’s cuts, and when he took my hands in his, a powerful spark passed between us as he said the healing spell. I could feel more of him now, how the different parts of his magical signature made up the whole. It kindled deep inside him like a well-kept secret, one I now knew. He grinned and showed off those dimples, a flare of heat in his eyes.

  "Uh, question." Jon shifted next to me. "Who peed?"

  It took an embarrassingly long moment to tear my attention from Ramsey and figure out what Jon was talking about. "Oh—" I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound.

  Quiet was gushing in from underneath the closed door, an eerie sight since it made no noise. Twitching arms floated toward us along the surface with more struggling to get in. How could they float like that? The water wasn’t even that deep. Yet.

  The four of us broke apart and leaped up onto the tables. This classroom had only one door, and from ten feet away, we'd never make it. We couldn’t run. We couldn't yell for help. We couldn’t escape, and the room was filling up unnaturally fast. Already, the water rose to the middle of the tables' legs, surging to fill up every corner with frothing, raging, quiet rapids.

  Ramsey waved his arms at us and then pointed upward. In the ceiling, there was a small hole cut into the stone. A murder hole, maybe, sometimes found in castles and used to pour boiling water or oil down on attackers. What kind of classroom was this and the one above? We could escape through it as long as we didn't slip and fall into Quiet.

  Echo took a running leap to Ramsey’s table. I went next, then Jon, whose feet hit the very edge. He rocked backward and wind-milled his arms, and the three of us shot forward to drag him back to safety. He sagged against us with relief, and when he bowed his head, I spotted something over his shoulder that struck the wind from my lungs.

  Stacks and stacks of cages in the corner of the room. Many had deformed creatures inside, one with five arms that looked like tentacles wrapped around the bars of the cage. And among the creatures was a three-eyed skunk. Its black gaze was cold and empty, and its cage had floated beyond the professor's desk. Stacks of parchment slid away from it as the pond continued swallowing the room. The cage bobbed closer as silent as the water, and it brushed against the twitching arms. They ignored it, though, like they could sense it was dead.

  I glanced backward and found Jon's legs dangling from the hole. Ramsey and Echo were already up there and straining to haul him up. The raging water lapped at the legs of the table I stood on. Soon, it would be floating adrift in the pond. I gazed at the skunk cage again. If I was going to do it, I needed to do it now.

  I knelt on all fours, trying not to make a single sound. Gripping the edge of the table, I leaned out, out farther still. Here it came, just out of reach.

  Something shifted along my side, and I realized too late it was my dead man's hand tumbling from my pocket. I snatched it midair but lost my grip on the slick table. I was falling. Falling into the pond. I slammed my eyes closed and then halted, my nose nearly skimming a reaching arm, my ear nearly grazing another reaching up from the water’s rising depths. My boots skated along the edge of the table, my body angled straight out over the water. My cloak bowed outward from the back, and I could feel a certain someone’s fury digging into my skull. He must’ve jumped down to save me.

  In my periphery, the cage floated closer. I flashed out my arm and snatched it up.

  The crack of my knuckles on the metal cage caused a flurry of soundless motion, straight toward me. Hands grabbed, pulling me from Ramsey's grip. My face submerged in the water, and a surprised cry bubbled from my mouth. I snapped my eyes open and wished I hadn’t.

  Hundreds of twisted nightmare faces stared back with white eyes where their mouths should be. A mouth with double rows of teeth gaped wider where their eyes should’ve been. Their hair danced eerily around their emaciated bodies.

  They wrenched me in deeper, clawing at my hair and scratching my cheeks, ripping the front of my cloak. Ramsey yanked harder on the back of my cloak, my only hope of getting out of here alive. Panic stormed through my veins. What if he couldn't? What had I been thinking? It was stupid to risk my life to try to find out who took Leo's while collecting the ingredients for the memory grenade spell. Revenge had driven me for so long, it was now part of my instincts and had nothing to do with rational thought.

  My lungs began to burn. I needed to breathe. I fought off the hands and double rows of teeth the best I could with one arm, but they clamped down so hard my bones ground together. With my other arm, I gripped the skunk’s cage still floating on the surface. I couldn't let go. I couldn't.

  Shadows swarmed through my mind, the kind I didn't welcome. The kind that came with death. My lungs begged me to open my mouth for air. The need seared through them, hot and desperate. I was losing, against Quiet, against Ryze, against my brother's killer.

  I released the cage because damn it, I had to. With my last bit of will and strength, I slammed the heel of my palm into the wrist that gripped me the tightest, a defensive move I’d learned in P.P.E.

  That freed me. Ramsey dragged me backward enough to draw in a sweet, sweet breath, and then hauled me onto the table and into his arms. I didn’t dare cough or sputter or make a noise as the arms wormed over the edge of the table, their fingers seeking.

  Ramsey shoved away from me, his anger crackling around him like lightning. He bent over and clasped his hands together for a step, and using his head for balance and Jon and Echo's arms dangling from the murder hole, I hauled myself up.

  When I collapsed against the floor in a drenched ball, Echo rounded on me, her blue eyes feral bright.

  "Are you crazy?" Echo hissed. "Why did you do that? I could’ve gotten it for you."

  I wiped the water from my eyes, gasping, coughing, while a bone-deep shiver sliced down my back at how close to death I'd been. I was alive, thanks to Ramsey, who was effortlessly pulling himself up, his glare locked on me.

  "I was just—"

  "You were being stupid, Dawn,” he roared. “Why would you risk your life for a dead skunk?”

  "I'm sorry," I rasped and then coughed some more. "I need it for the memory grenade spell to clarify the night Leo died so I finally know—"

  "Knowing isn't worth dying, Dawn!" he shouted.

  "I know," I whispered. His anger with me boiled through my veins, the blood bond backing up what I already knew, and it made me feel sick with guilt.

  He crossed toward me and crouched, muttering the healing spell for Quiet’s bite marks and bruises on my skin. "If collecting the ingredients doesn't kill you, the spell and potion will. It's dangerous, and you are not doing it." He gazed at me for a long moment, his eyes so haunted, it hurt to gaze back. "Do you hear me?"

  "I hear you. I'm sorry I made you mad."

  "I'm not mad. I'm furious. I just got you back.
.." He looked away and raked his fingers through his hair.

  His words punched into my chest and both broke me and sealed me up with warmth. He’d lost so much already, and for me to put another burden on him was selfish. He cared, so much more than I deserved, but he did. And I did too.

  I reached out, the water from my fingers dripping loudly to the floor now that I was one floor up from Quiet, and turned his head to face mine. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it, but I'm so glad you were there." I smoothed my hands across his jaw, hoping to wipe away the anger that made it as unforgivable as steel. "Thank you for getting me out."

  He huffed a breath, roughly took one of my hands, and pressed it to his lips as his eyes closed. For a moment, he held it there, his ragged breaths brushing over my skin. His lips were soft, and I remembered exactly how they tasted, even after three months in mage's oblivion. I wasn't so sure I'd ever forget. Then, he dropped my hand, stood, and stalked out of the classroom without a word.

  I stared after him, my hand tingling, my heart leaping after him.

  "Should've let me get it instead," Echo muttered, and then followed.

  I pushed myself to my feet with a long sigh and caught Jon frowning at me from next to the murder hole in the floor. "Yeah, yeah, I did a dumb thing."

  "What a coincidence." From behind his back, he brought out the three-eyed skunk’s cage dangling from a hook attached to a long pole. “Me too.” He winked and smiled.

  Well, that settled it. Seph could have his babies if she wanted, and I'd be completely okay with it.

  Chapter Six

  THE PROFESSORS ALL seemed to know about the naked old woman creeping about, but they kept their mouths shut as soon as anyone asked about her. Which meant they were obviously hiding something.

  “She’s harmless if you don’t get too close,” Professor Lipskin told us in Undead Botany the next day. “We have it under control.”

  “Like you do Quiet?” Echo asked.

  The rest of the class’s eyes about popped out of their heads at her nerve. I grinned. Leave it to Echo to never show fear asking the difficult questions.

  The bald professor glared. “You think you can do any better?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said.

  I appreciated her honesty. So did Professor Lipskin, it seemed, who let that go before launching into everything he hated about springtime:

  “Bugs,” he said, counting off on his fingers, “gentle breezes, the sun, mating season, and spring fever in students who aren’t paying attention.” He slammed his hand down on his desk.

  Everyone jumped, including the guy in the front row falling asleep. Everyone but Jon, who was too busy taking notes.

  Later that day after dinner, I crossed the entryway with a stack of books in my arms to return them to the library. I had three eyelashes from the three-eyed dead skunk in a glass vial in my pocket, just waiting for the last two ingredients of the memory grenade. The blood would be easy; the lilywort flower was the problem, hence all the books. I was half tempted to ask Professor Lipskin for any tips and tricks about collecting its petals without getting eaten, but then he might know what I was up to and try to talk me out of it.

  My parents stepped out of the Gathering Room, spotted me, and hurried over.

  “Really, Dawn?” Frowning, Mom ran her fingers through my newly coal-covered hair. “Why? It took me three tries to wash it all out while you were in mage’s oblivion.”

  “I like it better.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the real reason was that blonde hair didn’t blend well with the shadows while shadow-walking. “For here anyway.”

  My hair wasn’t the only thing that had gone darker. My magic was now a dark gray color, and I knew exactly what had caused it to change from a lighter gray—a successful necromancy spell. If I kept doing black magic, mine would get even darker. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing...was it?

  “We wanted to come find you to tell you we’re leaving,” Dad said.

  My shoulders slumped and my heart plummeted. “What?”

  “Not forever.” He squeezed my arm. “Just for a few days. A healer’s job is never done, especially back home in Maraday, and your mom could us a break from this place.”

  Mom rubbed her temples and screwed her eyes shut. “The angles, Dawn. I can’t see much inside this school without any windows, but I see the angles, and they are wrong.”

  “I liked having you here though,” I said, my voice sounding so small.

  “We’re coming back, love.” Dad wrapped me up in a hug, his healing charms tinkling together in a familiar song I’d never get tired of. “We have to check on you and your friend Sepharalotta still. I’ll bring my bongo drums next time.”

  “No, he won’t.” Mom stepped in to take Dad’s place in my arms, and I breathed her sweet scent in deeply.

  “I love you,” I choked out.

  “We love you too.” Mom pulled back, swiping the wetness on her cheeks away.

  “We love you so much, we left you some coins on your desk for food,” Dad said. “And if looks could kill, I’d be dead from that one-eyed cat in there. Is she Sepharalotta’s?”

  “Yeah. She’s a charming murder ball, and I love her.” I tried for a smile. “Thanks for the coins, Dad.”

  “Anytime. Send a raven if you need us, and we’ll be back before you know it.”

  I watched them head for the door, missing them already, and missing them more when they kept looking back at me. I couldn’t blame them for leaving, though. This academy and all its craziness definitely wasn’t for everyone.

  A magical signature that smelled like rain charged my blood and swept around me in a comforting embrace, and I turned my head to see Ramsey on the other side of the entryway. The blood bond seemed to have made his signature the strongest to me, or maybe I was just more aware of it since I always wanted him around. He sidled up to me, his gaze on my parents’ backs as they stepped through the door.

  “They’re leaving?” he asked.

  I nodded. “You’re speaking to me now?” Those were the first words he’d said to me since we’d escaped Quiet. He didn’t know about the eyelashes in my pocket, and thankfully the titles on the books I was carrying were only generally related to Undead Botany. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  “I guess I am,” he sighed.

  I checked the dead man’s hand in my pocket. Open. This one stayed that way more often than not. “Are you speaking to me enough to help you search the catacombs for your staff?”

  "The catacombs, huh?" Ramsey leaned against the wall of the entryway, regarding my coal-covered hair. "We're definitely not going to be able to explore all of them in one day."

  "We'll do what we can, then."

  "Echo did give me a dead man's hand.” His eyes twinkled, giving his excitement away. “I've been dying to use it."

  I knew he wouldn't be able to say no. Sneaking all over the school was kind of his thing.

  "Give me four minutes?" he asked.

  "Why four?"

  He pointed to the books in my hands, his one slightly raised eyebrow arching higher. "And to do this." He pushed off the wall, brushed my fingertips with his, and leaned in to sweep his lips over mine. Soft and quick, but powerful enough to steal my breath and flush my whole body with heat. When he pulled back slightly, he smiled and touched his forehead to mine. "I've been waiting to do that for when you felt better."

  "You're not afraid I'll kill you?" I dipped my gaze to his lips, my heart bursting toward him. It took all my willpower to rein it back in, to not wish he'd do that again. And again.

  "Not today." He grinned, revealing his dimples, and took my stack of books before rushing toward the classroom hallway. "Meet me in the Gathering Room in five."

  "You said four," I called after him.

  He stopped, turned with his back to the door, and winked. "Spend that extra minute wishing I'd kiss you again."

  Sonofabitch. How could he read me so well?

  I bit
down on my smile, but my face always gave me away. He nodded and chuckled as he disappeared through the doors. Sighing, I trailed my hand along the stone walls to try to cool my skin. He'd invaded my thoughts lately with the sound of his deep, crystallized honey voice, the warmth of his laugh, the strength of his hand in mine. I didn't know how it happened, but it had. It should’ve been impossible to go from hating someone so much that I wanted to end their existence to...this. Sometimes I caught myself grinning at the oddest moments and counting down the minutes until I saw him again, even if he was mad at me. It was him. It was all him and how effortless he made everything—even falling for him after trying to kill him. My broken heart had driven me toward him, and now I couldn't seem to stay away. He'd somehow molded me away from rage and sorrow and toward something else entirely. Instead of darkness, he filled me with hope that despite everything, we'd still win.

  I turned the corner into the Gathering Room and nearly bumped headfirst into Professor Margo Woolery.

  "Oh!" she yelped and clutched her neck. Her chestnut waves glistened in the low torchlight. Small brown buttons decorated the collar of her brick-colored dress. She looked gorgeous as always, a perfect match for Leo, at least to me. Why had they broken up, and why hadn't he ever told me about her?

  "Sorry,” I said. “I was daydreaming."

  "Are you feeling all right? You look flushed."

  Darn Ramsey and his lips. "Fine. Much better."

  Actually, she looked flushed, too, and her breaths were loud and ragged. She darted her gaze over her shoulder, her gaze searching the floor as if she’d dropped something, and kept her hand on her chest like she was trying to keep her heart inside. "Good, good. I can’t tell you how relieved that makes me.” She skirted around me and then almost ran into Ramsey who appeared in the doorway. "Oh! Remind me to put bells on all of you." She swept past him briskly.

  Even though she couldn’t see me, I pointed at mine hanging around my neck, but of course that wasn’t what she meant. Frowning, I gazed out over the empty Gathering Room and wondered what she’d been looking for. She’d seemed frightened, distracted.