Twice Dead

by Caitlin Seal

  Any impressions of delicacy vanished as the car lurched forward, picking up speed to swing around a bend in the track. Naya grabbed the edge of her seat so tight she could feel the wood digging into her fingertips. Lucia seemed unperturbed as they careened downhill. “We can take this to Market Street. From there it’s only a short way to the embassy,” she said.

  Naya didn’t reply. She was busy trying not to think about the way the city sped past, revealing glimpses of glittering blue ocean between the houses. Nobody else looked like they were swallowing a scream every time the tram whipped around a corner. Then again, the people of this country practically worshipped necromancers. Would they even care if they died in a crash?

  The tram didn’t slow until they reached the base of the hill and turned onto one of the wide streets Naya had crossed on her way to deliver the contract for her father. Salt air flooded through the half-open window and seemed to infuse her entire body. The day was already getting hot and she could smell the unappealing aromas of sweaty bodies, rotting fish, and refuse as she and Lucia stepped off the tram and joined the crowd on the street.

  They’d gotten off at an intersection where the lines of shops ended and the rows of stately houses began. The buildings here were grander than the ones she’d seen in other parts of the city. Lucia paused in front of a white, three-story building with imposing mahogany doors. It stood out from its lime-green and purple neighbors like a dove among peacocks.

  Two soldiers guarded the doorway, dressed in the blue uniforms of the Talmiran Army. The soldiers didn’t move, but eyed Naya and Lucia warily as they approached. Naya tried not to stare at the rune pistols and longswords hanging from their belts. The weapons looked far more menacing than the clubs the Belavine city guard were allowed to carry.

  On the door between the soldiers was a brass plaque reading EMBASSY OF TALMIR. A flag rode above the peak of the roof, the queen’s crest set in blue and gold on a black field. A sudden wave of homesickness made Naya’s eyes sting. This would probably be the closest she’d ever come to seeing her country again.

  A black-clad servant answered the door before Lucia’s hand could leave the bell rope. He was tall and hollow-cheeked, with unusually pale gray eyes. Gray flecks peppered his thinning hair. He bowed, then led them into a hallway with plush carpet and white walls.

  The servant paused at a door near the end of the hallway. “Ambassador Valn will see you now.”

  Lucia eyed the polished wood as though it might bite. Naya moved to join the necromancer, but the servant grabbed her arm.

  “You may wait in the kitchen.”

  Naya stared at the man. Surely she’d misheard. “I need to speak to the ambassador.” Valn had sounded certain that resurrecting her had been the best, if not the only, option. But his faith had only spawned more questions in her mind.

  “The ambassador has no need to speak to you.”

  Naya looked at Lucia, who pointedly avoided her gaze. “But why would he…”

  “The kitchen is over there.” The servant nodded at a smaller door at the very end of the hall. It was clear from his tone that he didn’t intend to let her into the other room. He didn’t even let go of her arm until Lucia had disappeared inside, closing the door behind her.

  Naya looked once more at the door, struggling to squash the doubts bubbling up inside her. Valn’s story made sense. It was the only thing that could explain her father abandoning her in a city corrupted by dark magic. Keep your wits about you. This city is full of liars. Naya forced herself to walk through the kitchen door, wondering which liars her father had meant to warn her about.

  The kitchen was quiet, the only occupant a thin-armed boy rolling dough on the back counter. He glanced up as Naya entered. “You looking for Celia?”

  Celia. Valn had mentioned that name last night. “I think so.”

  “She’s upstairs.” He pointed to a door to the left. Naya opened it and found a narrow servant’s stairway. She glanced back, but the boy had already returned his attention to the dough, and the man who’d directed her here was nowhere in sight. The stair let her out onto a second-floor hallway. Here the floors were simple wood, and the white surface of the walls was unbroken by paintings or other decorations.

  “Hello?” Naya stepped tentatively into the hall.

  A door opened to her left. “Who’s there?”

  “I’m…” Should she introduce herself with her real name, or the fake one Valn had given her?

  A middle-aged woman stepped into the hallway. She was an inch or two taller than Naya and clad in a servant’s outfit of black skirt, white blouse, and black vest. The few streaks of gray in her hair didn’t match the graceful way she walked or the hard gleam in her eyes. Naya had to fight the urge to squirm when those eyes met hers.

  “Ah, come in.” The woman motioned Naya into a tiny bedroom with a battered desk and narrow bed.

  “Are you Celia?” Naya asked.

  “Yes. And you must be the dead girl.”

  Naya clasped her hands in front of her to keep her fingers from wandering toward her necklace. “Yes.”

  “He told you about our work?”

  Naya met Celia’s eyes. Obviously the woman was much more than a servant. “Ambassador Valn said I would be gathering information. But I have some questions about—”

  Celia silenced her with a wave of her hand. “We’ll deal with that later. First let me look at you.” Celia crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t stand much like a servant.”

  Naya frowned. “I’m not a servant.”

  The blow came so fast Naya barely saw it coming. Her head snapped sideways, and tingling waves of force spread from her cheek to the rest of her body. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it was far from pleasant. Celia flexed her fingers, looking like she was considering slapping Naya again.

  “Wrong. You are whoever the job requires. From this second on you will start believing that with every scrap of your soul. Today you are Blue. You are a servant. You have always been a servant. And now you are very, very eager to prove yourself useful to your new master.”

  Naya’s skin burned with anger. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Celia shook her head. “Ambassador Valn says I am to make an agent of you. He thinks you are smart and useful. He thinks that your condition will make you a valuable asset. But before I can make you useful, I must know you won’t get yourself killed again by giving away your identity to every stranger you meet.”

  Naya rubbed her cheek. “And that gives you the right to hit me?”

  “Yes. You must be able to hold your cover even when others push you, even if they make you furious or afraid. If anyone suspects your true identity, you won’t just be risking your own safety. You will be endangering all our operations in this city. Our people. Do you understand? I do not care who you are or who your father is. If I cannot trust you, I cannot use you.”

  Naya glared at Celia. She wanted to stomp out the door, or slap the older woman right back, but damn it if either one wouldn’t prove Celia right.

  “No? Then return downstairs. I will tell Ambassador Valn that training you would be a waste of time,” Celia said.

  Naya could feel her body tensing, readying itself for another blow, or for her to lash out herself. Instead she closed her eyes, dragging out an old memory from among the locked boxes in her mind. Her mother stood silhouetted in the doorway of their tiny room, pleading softly. A man in a sweat-stained coat scowled at her from the hallway. He owned the tavern below where her mother scrubbed tables and served drinks. He liked to come upstairs in the evenings to remind them how lucky they were to have his generosity, that there were plenty of others in Lith Lor with no steady work who’d gladly take her place. Naya remembered watching from the far corner, waiting for her mother to snap at the man, to tell him it was no generosity for him to take more than half her wages for a tiny room that was hot in t
he summer and drafty in the winter. But her mother had taken the abuse without comment, even going so far as to thank the man before he left.

  Sometimes, little bird, you have to bend to keep from breaking. Slowly, Naya felt her shoulders adopting her mother’s hunch. When she opened her eyes, her gaze stayed fixed on the floor. “I’m sorry to have given you the wrong impression. If you give me a chance, I’ll show you I can be useful.”

  Silence. She had to fight to keep her head down. Finally Celia huffed. “Well, it’s not the best I’ve seen, but it’s not the worst either. You’re willing to admit mistakes and you’re willing to learn. You may look up.”

  Naya snapped her head up and found Celia surveying her again, tapping one finger against her thigh. “So you were just testing me?” Naya wasn’t sure if that made her angrier or relieved.

  “Of course. Ambassador Valn may be running this operation, but he’s trusted me to manage the details. No matter how much potential he thinks you have, I won’t work with a fool who can’t learn.”

  “I’m not a fool.”

  “We’ll see. How many languages do you speak?”

  “I speak the court tongue, and some Banian. My Ceramoran is fluent. My father said my accent is barely noticeable.” Naya straightened and met Celia’s eyes. Now that she had gotten through Celia’s little test, there was something oddly comforting about the older woman’s hard words and glares. She wasn’t interested in what Naya was, only what she could do.

  “Useful, but too clever for a galley girl. Blue spoke Ceramoran. Her master used her to translate sometimes, didn’t like sullying himself with foreign tongues. But her command of the language was limited. No accent will make you stand out worse than not being able to speak at all. Can you fake one?”

  “I think so,” Naya switched to Ceramoran, forcing herself to clip her r’s and s’s, and adding a harsher note to the vowels to emphasize her slight Talmiran accent. It felt strange after spending so long trying to learn the silky native accent. She sounded foolish, but maybe that was the point. “I don’t mean to pry, but you’re talking about Blue like she was a real person.”

  “So far as you’re concerned, she is a real person. She is you and you are her. That is all you need to know.”

  Naya opened her mouth again, but when she saw Celia’s scowl deepen she forced it closed and nodded. I am Blue. I am a monster with a stolen name.

  “Your accent is passable, but you sound like you’re trying too hard. I’d recommend avoiding any long conversations until you can improve.”

  “So I’m going to be staying in Belavine for a while?”

  “Yes. King Allence and his court won’t be returning to his winter palace until after the Tenth Congress. Our work requires us to remain close to his government.”

  Naya ran her palms over the front of her skirt. “I understand. But what about the man who attacked me? Ambassador Valn said he’d been dealt with, but he also said there’ve been other attacks on Talmirans. What if he wasn’t working alone? If someone sees me and realizes I’m still in the city…”

  Some expression flickered over Celia’s face but was gone before Naya could read it. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Ambassador Valn has already seen to the issue. The odds of anyone recognizing you are very slim, especially if you keep your eyes down and act the proper servant.” She seemed to consider this for a moment. “Still, it will be best for you to learn to change your face.”

  “Change my face?”

  “Your body is energy, yours to control. You look the way you want to look. The sooner you learn to manipulate that, the better. Has that necromancer taught you to use your sight yet?”

  “I can see, if that’s what you mean.” Naya’s mind was still spinning as she struggled to keep up with the strange conversation.

  “No, not ordinary sight. Wraiths can supposedly see the flow of aether. Even more important for our cause, you can see where aether has been redirected to power a rune binding. You must learn this skill. And meanwhile you must also practice being a good servant. Do whatever the necromancer tells you, no matter what you think of the task.”

  “How do you know so much about wraiths?”

  “Only a fool shuts her eyes to something because she is afraid. Regardless of what the keepers say of necromancy, it is powerful and that power must be understood.” Celia glanced at a pile of papers on the small desk. “In ten days you will wait for me at the corner of Rillon and Wavecrest Streets at the fifth morning bell, provided you do not destroy your cover before then. I will evaluate your progress and we will see if you are worth the risk of training. Do you understand?”

  Less than two weeks to learn two things she hadn’t even known existed a moment before? Naya took a deep breath, then nodded.

  “Good. Ask whatever questions you have now.”

  Naya clasped her hands to keep herself from fidgeting. She had so many questions, but one forced its way ahead of all the rest. “Ambassador Valn says my father sent me to join your work before I was…killed. Does he know what happened to me? Did he leave me any kind of message?”

  Celia paused before answering. “I’m not privy to the details of Ambassador Valn’s communications, but I would assume he notified Lord Garth before he sailed. As for messages…” She extracted a small key from her vest pocket and unlocked one of the desk drawers. “Your father left this for you.” Celia pulled a folded sheet from the drawer. Naya’s father’s seal was stamped on the front, and below it he’d written her name in neat script.

  Celia held the paper out. “Written and delivered before your death, so it will not answer your question, but perhaps it may offer some comfort in his absence.”

  Naya took the paper in shaking hands. “Thank you.”

  Celia nodded. “I’ve business to tend to now. You may stay to read that, but don’t tarry long. I suspect Ambassador Valn will soon be done speaking with the necromancer.” She paused by the door. “Though it should be obvious, don’t tell her about your true mission.”

  “How much does she know?” Naya asked.

  “She knows the story others will be told. You are a servant girl she resurrected, and Ambassador Valn has transferred your contract to her.”

  The letter crinkled under Naya’s grip. Lucia knew more than that already. Or even if she didn’t, Naya doubted it’d be easy to hide the nature of their work while living with the woman. “Does that mean I have to actually serve her? There must be someone else we can work with who isn’t—”

  “Isn’t a necromancer?” Celia asked.

  “Someone who isn’t likely to turn against us the first chance she gets,” Naya clarified.

  Celia snorted. “I trust Lucia Laroke to follow her best interests, and the ambassador has ensured that those interests align with ours. She may not like it, but she’ll play her part and hold her tongue.”

  Naya wanted to ask what sort of interest could be strong enough to make someone like Lucia work for Talmir. However, Celia’s tone suggested the matter was closed.

  “Anything else?” Celia asked.

  “No. I’ll learn what you asked.”

  “Good.”

  As soon as Celia left the room, Naya tore open her father’s letter. Inside were scrawled several lines of jumbled nonsense, a cipher he’d taught her when he brought her on as his apprentice. She skimmed once over the words, letting her eyes pick out the pattern, then began to read.

  Daughter,

  If you are reading this, then it means you have reached Valn and our plan has entered its next stage. I have sent you to him to learn of our true work and to help enact the Creator’s will. I apologize for not telling you of our plans, but I could not risk others learning the truth. The necromancers grow more dangerous by the day. We must stop their plots before they can finish what the Mad King began. Valn will explain what must be done. We will not meet again for some weeks. In
that time you must trust and obey him as you would me. Know that what we do protects the people of Talmir from dangers they refuse to see.

  Naya read it again, then twice more to ensure she hadn’t missed anything. Trust and obey. So Valn had told the truth. Her father really had meant for her to stay in Belavine and help protect the treaty.

  She closed her eyes. If her father had a task for her, then she would do it. But everything about this felt wrong. Her father had never hinted that this trip was anything more than a contract negotiation. If their mission was so important, then surely he could have found a way to tell her something. And if he’d been working with Valn all this time, he must have known about the dangers growing in the city. Why hadn’t he warned her? If he had, then she would have been more careful. Maybe she would still be alive if only…Naya locked the thought away before it could go further. Her father must not have known the extent of the danger. Valn had said none of the other attacks had happened while the sun was up.

  She folded the letter, running over each crease with her fingers. If the necromancers were planning another attack, then they had to be stopped. It was an honor to be trusted with such a task. She repeated the thought as she made her way out of the embassy, trying to drown out her traitorous doubts.

  She found Lucia waiting outside. As Naya walked toward the street, her foot caught on a loose stone and she almost stumbled into the necromancer. The aching she’d managed to ignore during her meetings with Celia returned full force. Her head spun, and not just from the dizzying horror of the past two days.

  Lucia frowned as she caught Naya’s elbow. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” In truth her limbs felt heavy and her vision was starting to blur around the edges.