Necromancer Uprising: Book 4

by Lindsey R. Loucks

  Thankfully, my parents weren’t in the infirmary hallway but had gone to the island village for supplies. They’d likely sense I was up to something since my traitorous face gave everything away, something I’d learned from Ramsey. And I was up to something.

  The guards stationed outside Seph’s room in the infirmary parted, used to my coming and going. Nebbles sat at the foot of Seph’s bed like she'd been expecting me.

  "Hey, beautifuls," I whispered to both of them.

  Still no change in Seph. She floated four feet above her bed with the onyx stone clutched in her fist. Would she ever wake up? Doubt spiraled through me in a sickening, downward tailspin.

  Nebbles flicked her tail and glared some more, but when I brought out the stick and feather toy, she pounced while I wriggled it over the floor. Laughing and playing were great ways to refill my magical reserves quickly and take my mind off of what was to come. I whispered my plan to Seph while I played with Nebbles, having no idea if she could hear me or not. But she needed to know why I might not be coming back.

  On my way out, I kissed her forehead and blew a kiss toward Nebbles. She hissed. We still weren’t best friends, but we were getting there.

  Once I was in my room again, Echo and Jon's magical signatures floated closer—Jon’s dirt smell and Echo’s peppermint and invigorated feeling. Then, a knock sounded at my door.

  "Can you just tell us?" Echo asked, barging in.

  "Tell you what?"

  "What you're really up to," Jon said. "Are you leaving?"

  A long sigh filtered out as I sank down onto my bed. "Let me guess, you can feel it through the blood bond?"

  “No.” Echo crossed her arms, her muscled form blocking the door. "Yes. But also your face. You're up to something."

  "Damn it to seven hells,” I hissed. “Even if I can skin-walk, what if my face—my new face—gives everything away?"

  "Where are you going, Dawn?" Jon asked calmly.

  "Keptra. Ryze's stronghold,” I admitted and clenched my fists in my lap. “I want Ramsey's staff back. I want to find Headmistress Millington and Morrissey. I want to end this."

  "Well...” Jon threw up his arms. “You will if you plan on going by yourself."

  "I have to go by myself. I don't trust anyone but you two, and I need you alive to look after Seph and Nebbles and..." Sawing my teeth over my bottom lip, I pulled out the six rocks from my cloak pocket. The six parts of Ramsey's soul. I held them out to Echo, but instead of crossing toward me and taking them, she stared at me. "And Ramsey. You know where his body is bur—"

  "Dawn," she snapped. “No.”

  "Please just watch over them until Seph wakes—"

  "No."

  "Please." I weighted that word with the fate of Amaria since with Ryze’s return, the world’s future balanced on a dangerous edge. What else could I say? I knew the risks, but I was doing it anyway. Over and over again, I kept getting dragged into Ryze's circle of darkness where his minions explicitly used me and hurt me. I'd lost Leo and Ramsey and possibly Seph. I'd lost myself. I was done. I'd been done for quite some time, but now I had an extra body part in my pocket to really finish it. Plus, Ryze wouldn’t be there. Maybe no one else would be either.

  "And if you don't make it out of there?" Jon asked, a strain to his voice. "What then?"

  "You bring me back. You can do necromancy from anywhere."

  Jon threw up his arms again. “I can bring back plants, not people.”

  Echo shook her head. "If you die, we won't even be there to split your soul—"

  "You bring me back without my soul, if you can. I'll be the exact same murderous nut."

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You won't."

  She was right. The reliving in the catacombs had been intent on one thing—killing. Not any of the rest of our problems like the staff, Ramsey, and Seph. But maybe if I became a reliver, I could still help if set on the right track. The right killing track—straight toward Ryze or Headmistress Millington or Morrissey.

  "You’re the mastermind, remember?" Echo gazed at me imploringly. "But this is reckless."

  "It would be reckless if I took you two with me. This is..." I shrugged, searching for the right word. "A reckoning."

  "So are you going to try it?" Jon waved his hand, his shoulders slumping as he plopped down across from me on Seph’s bed.

  Nodding, I stood, took a deep breath, and slowly crept my hand into my pocket. My stomach folded in on itself at the feel of the eyeball, how dry it was on the outside but how easily it squished between my fingertips. I rolled it so the pupil faced out, brought it up to my right eye, and once I was pretty sure I really wanted to do this, I recited the skin-walking spell.

  "Ambulabunt mecum in cute, Ne quis in Headmistress Millington geminae."

  Walk with me through skin, Let me be Headmistress Millington’s twin.

  The eye sprouted these suction-like things and sprang toward my face. I gasped and stumbled sideways, my heart thrashing against my ribs. My arms flailed until someone caught one of them and righted me with a squeeze of my hand. The eye attached itself to mine, at first eclipsing one half of my vision...and then changing it to a new perspective as it sank into my socket.

  Echo and Jon stared at me in horror. I squeezed my eyes—the old and the new one—shut so I wouldn't have to witness their reactions. My hair fluttered over my face as if caught in a breeze, and a rippling wave started at the top of my head and worked its way down to my feet. Fabric rustled. My body lengthened and changed and moved, completely out of my control. I hated the sensation, could hardly breathe through it, but soon, it was over.

  "Well?" I cleared my throat on impulse at the strange sound of my voice. "Did it work?" I didn't have the courage to look in the small oval mirror over my desk, let alone open my eyes.

  "Yes," Echo whispered. "You're her."

  "How does it..." Jon started. "How do you feel?"

  "Like me." A deep tremble started in the pit of my stomach and rushed outward with a dark chill. I pried my eyes open and turned my head to look at my reflection. At an exact replica of her. Dark hair piled on top of my head, razor-thin lips, a fake, kind expression, and a red cloak.

  I was now my brother's killer, the perfect person to be when I sneaked into Ryze’s lair.

  Chapter Two

  "Try not to die all over the place,” Echo told me. “We've had enough of that."

  Jon shifted his feet on the academy’s front steps. "Hear, hear."

  "Will do." Since magic was contained to the school grounds and I was about to leave, I was me once again, and I'd never been gladder of that. "After sharing a blood bond with you two, that pretty much means we've reached the hugging stage in our— Oof!"

  Jon clobbered me with a hug, wrapping me up so tightly that tears stung my eyes. This wasn't goodbye. It wasn't, but in the power of his grip, I sensed he thought it could be. It wasn’t for lack of faith in me, though, just dread that ran blood-deep. Finally, he released me, his gaze aimed at the ground, and I tried to tell him how great he was for Seph, how great he was period, but found my voice had knotted itself up.

  Then came Echo, the girl who'd once hated me.

  "Thank you," I whispered into her hair as I hugged her tight. "Just...thank you."

  She nodded as she pulled away, her blue eyes shining bright.

  In the distance, a boat horn blared. It was nearly time to board. Without looking back, I descended the academy stairs, my heart heavy but my chin held high. This had to be done, and I could do it. For some unknown reason, the Staff of Sullivan was important to Ryze, important enough for him to take it, important enough for Headmistress Millington to try to kill to protect it. The right side—the side that would win—needed it back, if not for the war then for Ramsey and his family.

  After I wound my way out the academy gates and through the forest, sea air whipped at my hair as I crossed the beach toward the dock. My boat already waited there, the exact same one I'd come here on at the beginning
of the school year. And wouldn't you know, shouting orders from the deck was the same captain with dark hair and a red bandanna tied around his neck. The more things changed, the more things stayed the same.

  The captain didn't seem to recognize me as I stepped on board even though I'd accidentally tried to kill the passengers and severely damaged his ship. That seemed so long ago, and I was a different person now. Well, except for still hunting Leo's killer.

  A boat ride and a looong carriage trip later, I arrived at the border of Keptra. Ryze's stronghold. The horses rumbled nervously and pawed the ground before the driver flicked his reins and got out of there in a hurry. It looked like a landlocked Eerie Island with dead, warped trees. Even sounded like it, to the point where I could've sworn I was trapped in Quiet's magical silent bubble. A low fog crept over the ground and blanketed anything that might've resembled a path and whatever might be in the distance.

  I welcomed it. It would be great cover as I prowled inside and stalked my prey.

  Since Eerie Island was far behind me, I could use magic again. Quickly, so I wouldn't have to think about it too much, I skin-walked into Headmistress Millington, and then continued into Keptra. My red cloak that wasn't mine rustled over the ground, and roots reached for the heeled boots I wasn't used to. I had a vague idea of where I was headed, but Jon had loaned me a secret weapon I kept in my pocket. Bones used for osteomancy. Hopefully they'd help me look like I knew where I belonged and what I was doing so I could walk out of here alive. If worse came to worse, I could also shadow-walk, yet until I knew more about the inside of Ryze’s castle, an independently moving shadow could be suspect. Besides, the dead man’s hand in my pocket was closed.

  I doubted many crossed the border into Keptra unless they wanted something from Ryze or worked for him, so if I happened to see anyone, I doubted they'd question me as the headmistress. If they did, I'd just lie. She had easily enough.

  My heart stuttered and my nerves coiled together into a complicated knot, but I kept going. This was worth the risk. I just had to remind myself of that.

  I rounded a bend in the worn path between the gnarled, reaching trees, and the smell of rot and decay barreled toward me. It was so strong that I had to force one foot in front of the other before the smell turned me back. Ahead through the fog was a little village, almost quaint-looking from this distance if not for the smell. People bustled about the wide streets pushing blanket-covered carts, beating the dust from rugs, or milling around underneath covered porches.

  Before I drew too much closer and the people spotted me, I ducked behind a tree. While peering around to make sure I was alone, I arranged Jon's osteomancy bones on the ground in front of me. Then I closed my eyes and whispered, "Where is the Staff of Sullivan?"

  I reached out, my fingers skimming a bone, and it read Straight.

  "Wilva!" a voice shouted from behind me.

  I startled and looked over my shoulder. A man approached wearing a straw hat low over his eyes, a dirt-smeared tunic and pants, and boots that had seen better days. He was headed right toward me. Quickly, I gathered Jon's bones and dropped them into my pocket with a loud clank before standing and turning around.

  "I thought that was you." He stopped in front of me. When he smiled, I tried not to wince. His teeth were black and rotted through. "I've been calling your name for a while. Did you not hear me?"

  For a while, he'd said. How long had he been watching? I attempted to empty my expression, but that was something Dawn should've done. Not Headmistress Millington—or Wilva, I guess—while speaking to a man she obviously knew.

  I smiled, the feeling foreign on this new face that had very thin lips. "Sorry, I must've had my head in the clouds again."

  He looked at me quizzically for a beat too long, one that spiked my hackles into alarm. Had I said or done something wrong? Probably. I hadn't studied the headmistress as closely as she'd studied us, and how she acted with me while she was playing the part of a real headmistress was likely different than how she acted here in Keptra.

  "Well, you're late,” the man said. “You should've already been there by now."

  "Of course. I was just headed there." Um, where exactly? Offering another no-lipped smile, I turned and headed toward the village. My back prickled at the man's gaze, so sharp that it made me doubt every step, every breath. Did he know? What would he do if he did?

  "Wilva?" he called.

  I stopped and turned. "Yes?"

  "It's good to see you after so long."

  My mind churned. Was it just me, or was what he'd said a spring for a trap? What if the headmistress had seen him just yesterday? But I'd already hesitated too long.

  "You as well." I faced the village again and started toward it, a frustrated scream building inside my chest. Had I blown it? My senses spiked for any sound or movement behind me. None came, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. I didn't dare look back.

  I was in over my head. I wasn't too stupid to realize that. I'd faced off with Ryze twice now and had barely survived the first and had lost Ramsey the second. One tiny stroke of luck was all I needed, just a chance to grab the Staff of Sullivan and run. I'd deal with the aftermath later.

  I entered the village, pressing my thin lips closed so I wouldn't have to breathe in the smell. Some people looked up, but most ignored me. The stink didn't seem to bother them, or they were used to it. Which of those two cases would be worse? I couldn’t decide.

  One wheelbarrow pushed by a man headed in the same direction I was hit a patch of uneven dirt, and a leg flopped over the side from underneath the blanket. A body. Several more people with wheelbarrows maneuvered them ahead and turned them down a nearby side street. I strode that way and peered around the corner—and then didn't dare one single inhale as I walked on by.

  Bodies. An entire pile of bloody bodies lay about fifteen feet up the street and stacked about that high too. Flies buzzed everywhere. Beyond the bodies, set upon a hill, a massive black-stoned castle speared toward the sky like twisted, skeletal fingers. Dark magic boiled from it and singed the air down into my lungs. I choked back a surge of bile, my eyes burning as though I'd walked through a cloud of smoke.

  That's where I needed to go. And the bodies? Probably about to be a part of Ryze's army.

  By the time I made it down another side road and up to the castle, what little daylight there was started to fade. It would be night soon.

  A cold sweat broke out over my skin as I climbed the steps toward the front door. There were no guards. There probably didn’t need to be.

  "I started out as a healer too," a feminine voice said, and I jerked to a stop, my muscles tensing.

  The voice came from in front of me, but no one was there. Someone knew. Someone could tell I was no headmistress and was calling my bluff. My barely there lips puckered to deny it, but that was as far as I got.

  "But Ryze showed me more than what was right in front of me," the voice continued.

  The huge doors in front of me opened, and a black-cloaked mage slipped out. Behind them, the castle looked packed, and the voice continued crystal-clear and amplified as if by magic.

  "He promised me whatever I want,” the voice said. “Anything I want if I helped him after his return. He showed me how powerful I could be with black magic, and I am. I can do anything. Have anything. I can't imagine my life any other way."

  The black-cloaked mage swept by me without a glance, and I caught the shutting door with the toe of my boot. Inside the castle, long tables stretched from one end to the other with the savory smells of cooking food hanging in the air. Skulls burned green from intricate chandeliers hanging all over the ceiling. They cast an eerie, bright green glow on the upturned faces of those gathered here as they listened to the healer-turned-dark-minion drone on and on. She stood on a raised platform, a skinny brunette except for the obvious swell of her stomach.

  "All of this is due to Ryze, and I owe him my life. He's a god to me, and wherever he leads me, I will follow with
out question."

  A loud cheer rose from the crowd. Was this dinner just for the crowd’s benefit to feel secure in their decision in following a sinister madman? Disgusting. All of them would probably die since Ryze would surely send them off a cliff first before he would ever admit defeat.

  I blew out a silent breath and tried not to show my revulsion all over my face as I crept along the wall. To the right, long, luxurious red drapes stitched with black and gold swirls had been tied back to reveal another room. I needed to find somewhere I could be alone so I could do osteomancy once again.

  The girl on the platform stepped off as the cheering dwindled down.

  One older woman I slid behind did a double take over her shoulder at me and then dipped her chin. I did the same then scanned the backs of the heads for anyone familiar, or anyone peering too closely.

  Someone else took to the platform, this time a man with a long gray beard that ended in a single curl near his knees. He held out his hand for someone in the crowd to join him.

  I had nearly made it to the red-curtained entryway when a hand landed on my shoulder. My stomach leaped into my throat while the rest of me froze. I forced myself to turn around and came face-to-face with the man in the straw hat.

  "You're going the wrong way. You're..."

  I didn’t catch what else he said because everything drained from the room except for who was stepping onto the platform with the bearded man. A woman in a red cloak with brown hair piled on top of her head. A woman with ultra-thin lips she curled into a victorious smile. A murderer.

  The people erupted at the sight of her. The sound of them snapped me back into the moment with a gasp. They loved her. Of course they did. She'd helped orchestrate Ryze's return, headed the academy where the onyx stone was kept hidden. Hired Professor Wadluck. “I should've kept a closer eye on Morrissey," she’d once told me. It was all, so, so convenient.

  Time slowed to a near standstill. I tore my gaze away from her and spotted the woman who'd nodded reverently at me in the crowd. Deep creases stretched across her brow as she turned her head toward me. The man in the straw hat tightened his grip on my shoulder and removed his hat with the other hand, his face etched in shock at the real headmistress.