The Unblessed Dead

by Rhiannon Frater

  I’m relieved to find that I can walk without the world tilting back and forth.

  When my father reaches the door, he leans against it, waiting.

  “Hurry up and open it!” someone shouts.

  I suspect it’s a visitor.

  “There are protocols,” my father answers. “We have to wait for the all-clear.”

  Attacks on our walls are not an unusual event, and I know what will happen next. The word will be spread, steward to steward, that it’s safe to return to normal life. It’s an old system built around the fact we don’t have communication devices. A few minutes later, there are several sharp raps on the door that give the all-clear. My father unlocks the heavy door and swings it open.

  “Keep it orderly, everyone,” he orders.

  Since we’re closest to him, Carrie and I are the first ones to step outside. Soon there is a steady stream of people flowing out into the street. Black smoke billows into the air from outside the settlement.

  “Harris! Did you hear?” Jeremiah, a friend of my father’s, rushes up to him. “It was copters that destroyed the Unblessed outside the walls.”

  “I suspected as much from the explosions. What right does The Enclave claim to infringe on our territory?” my father asks, his tone sharp.

  The ruddy, sweaty face of the other man scowls. “They claim because the train track was under attack, they had a right to send the copters to defend their trade route.”

  “We will need to send a formal complaint to King Maximillian.” My father shakes his head with annoyance. “The Enclave has no respect for the sovereignty of the settlements.”

  As my father and Jeremiah complain bitterly about The Enclave, Bale escapes the store and gives us wide berth. He doesn’t even look our way. I sigh with relief. Bale’s attention makes me very uncomfortable. He knows it’s unwanted and yet he persists.

  Carrie widens her eyes at me, her expression amused. At first I think she’s responding to Bale, but then Quade-if that really is his name-emerges from the shop. He sidesteps us to pause in front of our father.

  “I’d like to apologize again, sir. I’m new to the settlement and have yet to learn all the customs,” he says in a voice that is rough, yet soft.

  My father regards the man’s earnest expression before nodding. “Apology accepted.”

  “I don’t want to cause any offense,” the stranger continues. “I just recently purchased the Murrow House and I hope to make a home here.”

  “The Murrow House?” Jeremiah gasps.

  Carrie whispers, “Isn’t that the old house with the big porch and pillars?”

  I lean toward her. “Yes. The one everyone says is haunted.”

  She shivers.

  “I see it has a reputation,” the stranger says, smiling.

  My father nods. “That it has. It was a mortuary long ago before we stopped barbaric burial rituals and began releasing the Beloved Dead into the Perdition Sanctuary. It also pre-dates The Fall. It’s been rebuilt many times. That being said, it’s a fine house when it’s in good repair.”

  “I have plenty of money to restore it, I can assure you. Forgive me. Let me introduce myself. Master Quade Reed.”

  I try not to look as shocked as I feel when I hear his name confirmed. Every time I start to convince myself I am imagining all the strange things happen to me, something happens to substantiate the truth. I am not a normal girl. I am something more, like my mother.

  “Master Reed? From the textile company?” My father looks impressed, though the name is meaningless to me.

  “Yes, I am. I’m considering opening a new factory in this settlement.”

  My father is instantly interested and I’m instantly bored.

  “I won’t bore you with all the details,” Quade says with a charming smile. “Besides, I have a lot to do before evening falls.”

  Did he just read my mind? I make a mental note to watch my thoughts when around him. A moment later I realize how presumptuous and unlikely it is that I will see Quade again. After the Bridal Auction, I will most likely be stuck on a farm. I dare to look toward Quade again. The green fire is no longer swirling about his hands, but I know he has the answers to so many questions about what I’ve been going through.

  There is no other choice.

  Somehow, before I am married off, I need to speak to him.

  He may hold the keys to my survival.

  Chapter 5

  Fearful Ruminations

  In the aftermath of the attack of the Unblessed, the world feels unsettled. The wardens make their appearance known, strolling through the streets in their sharply-cut navy blue uniforms with their weapons slung over their shoulders. Their presence is supposed to be reassuring, but they’re a reminder of the dangerous situation we all endured. If my vision is true, the threat from the Unblessed might have been beyond the capabilities of the Atonement Settlement’s defenses. It was fortunate that the copters from The Enclave arrived. Otherwise we might have spent days waiting for the attack to be repelled. I hate to consider what could have happened if the Unblessed had somehow scaled the walls, or downed the fence that protects the train tracks.

  People hurry through the streets, casting wary glances at the black smoke filling the sky. Though the wind is blowing away from the settlement, the air is tainted with the fetid smell of death.

  Father escorts us home, but this time walks between Carrie and me, a rare break from tradition. After my supposed fainting spell, he’s more attentive. Or perhaps he’s still upset over Quade touching my arm in clear view of the people taking refuge in the shop. Maybe he’s attempting to project the image of a watchful guardian. My father’s devotion to the Lost Texts makes him a complex man who isn’t easy to read. I have always worried that his fear of violating the Lost Texts trumps his love of his family.

  I stumble a few times, still shaken from the visions I experienced. He catches me about the waist and holds me at his side.

  “As soon as we arrive at the house, Ilyse, drink water and rest,” my father says. “You must be dehydrated.”

  I’m grateful to hear the concern and affection in his voice. I know it’s possible that one day he won’t even mention my existence in the same way he won’t speak about my mother or Angelina. If I’m really a necromancer like my mother, I will stop existing in his world and perhaps even in his heart.

  Making matters even more complicated, Quade preoccupies my thoughts. Despite all my worries, I ashamedly admit I was drawn to him the moment I saw him. He is handsome and alluring in his mysteriousness. The kindness he showed me when collapsed only made him more attractive in my eyes. The forbidden feelings Quade elicits inside me are likely how Bale wishes I would feel about him.

  After what occurred between us, I am convinced that I am a necromancer like my mother. My powers seem to be awakening. Without guidance, I’m certain I will be discovered. Hopefully Quade will be able to help me since he seems to have necromantic powers. Of course, that means risking my father’s wrath and my Pious Standing. It’s one I have to take.

  At last we turn down the lane that leads to our home. The gray houses behind the stone walls look identical. Uniformity is important to the way of life in the settlement. The only variation is the gardens. I used to believe that my father never tore out the decorative flowers my mother planted because it was his way of remembering her. But as I’ve grown older it’s become harder to see him as sentimental.

  Rennon greets us at the door, excitement brightening his face. The attack of the Unblessed isn’t a source of dread and worry for him. He enthusiastically tells us all about the shutters closing over the windows and waiting in the dark with his mother for the all-clear. To him the whole event was an adventure. My aunt watches him with a slight frown on her face. She hates it when he gets over stimulated, but my father listens with a pleased look. He often remarks on Rennon’s fearlessness and that it is a good sign that he’ll grow up to be a leader of men.

  When I hand Rennon the chocolates
, the pure joy in his reaction makes me smile. He wheels away, his wooden wheelchair creaking.

  “Look, Mother! Chocolates! I’ll share them with you!”

  I waver on my feet, and steady myself with a hand on my father’s shoulder. I feel weakened from earlier.

  “Go sit in the parlor near the big windows. I’ll have Annah bring you some water,” my father says to me. “I want to show your mother the silk I ordered for your dress.”

  “All right, Father,” I answer, trying not to bristle. I know who my mother is and she stands among the Beloved Dead.

  My aunt and cousin are eating the chocolates we brought. I catch my aunt’s eyes watching me as I depart the main hall. I wonder if my father will tell her about Quade touching me in the shop in front of everyone.

  Carrie follows me to the parlor and sits with me on the couch near the tall open windows. The air is warm, but at least we’re out of the sunlight. The house is still stuffy from being closed up during the attack, but the breeze is gradually making a difference. The fragrance from the blooming flowers outside the window chases away the stench of smoke and sweat. The parlor is where my father entertains guests and the furniture is highly-polished cherry wood with light blue damask cushions. It’s my favorite room in the house. I often sit in the comfortable chair in the corner to read.

  Carrie cranes her head to make sure no one is in the hallway before turning to me and asking, “What happened?”

  “I was tired and got overheated.”

  Staring at me with her eyes widened with disbelief, she angrily whispers, “When will you stop lying to me? I might be only fourteen years old, but I’m not stupid, Ilyse.”

  Tears prick at my eyes, and I stare at her with a heavy heart. I can’t tell her. I don’t dare. One day she will face the Elders and she has to be able to tell them truthfully that I never confided in her that I am a necromancer.

  “I’m worried about Bale,” I say at last. “Prudence told me he likes me.”

  “Oh,” she says. “I knew that. He’s always staring at you at Wednesday Gathering.”

  “Really?” I’m surprised by this information.

  “Oh, yes. He’s discreet, but I’ve noticed. Do you like him?”

  “I don’t know him. Plus, I would never risk my status. His forwardness frightens me. It feels so intrusive. I don’t know what he expects of me.” It feels good to be able to tell the truth and not lie.

  “Margot says that sometimes girls and boys of the same age sneak off together to the old cemetery,” Carrie says, her voice hushed to avoid being overhead.

  “Near the Murrow House?”

  She nods. “Prudence goes there. Margot told me. She asked if you go with her, but I told her that you’re firmly Pious Standing. That you never do anything outside the rules.”

  I feel my cheeks heating as I blush at the mere thought of doing something illicit. “I wouldn’t. Never. Except for dealing with…” The memory of the three Beloved Dead who appeared in the garden steals away my voice. If another comes to the garden, the risk of being caught escalates.

  Carrie clutches my hands, her eyes worried. “Do you think the Beloved Dead escaping the Perdition Sanctuary is somehow connected to the Unblessed outside the walls?”

  Shrugging, I say, “Perhaps? I just don’t understand how they’re getting out.”

  “I wish we could tell someone, but I know we can’t. Because of Mother.”

  I meet my sister’s gaze and neither one of us say another word. She expressed earlier that she doesn’t want us falling under suspicion like our mother, but I feel like she’s waiting for something. Does she want a confession? Am I supposed to calm her fears? I’m not certain, so I remain silent.

  Annah enters the room with a glass of water. Chunks of ice float at the top, a luxury I’m not used to. Father must be very concerned about me to allow such opulence. I take the glass from her thankfully and she bows her head.

  “Thank you, Annah,” I say.

  “To serve is to be blessed,” she answers automatically and rapidly backs out of the parlor.

  Carrie stares after Annah, her brow furrowed.

  “What is it?” I sip the water, enjoying the coldness on my throat.

  “I just hope she didn’t overhear us. Did you notice she didn’t enter until we stopped talking?” Carrie answers in a hushed voice. “Though, I guess everyone knows about Mother anyway. I just hope that if the Beloved Dead are showing up in other people’s gardens they don’t blame us.”

  Ah! There it is! What she’s worried about.

  I match her quiet tones. “If the Beloved Dead are showing up in other people’s gardens, Carrie, they’re not going to say anything out of fear of being suspected of necromancy.”

  “Like us,” she says with a sigh.

  I still feel lightheaded. I mop the cold condensation from the glass and press my damp fingers to my forehead. The coolness feels so good in the humid air.

  “Ilyse, what if a necromancer is in town? What if they’re guiding the Beloved Dead out of the Perdition Sanctuary and into our garden?”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “To test us maybe? To see what we’ll do?”

  I frown at the thought. “Us specifically?”

  “Because of our mother, Ilyse.”

  It does make some sense. What if the Necromancer Chantry sent someone to test us? The news of our mother’s trial and death would have reached The Enclave years ago. They’d know she had children. Maybe like the Elders of the Atonement Settlement, the Clerics suspect we may follow in our mother’s footsteps. Yet, according to our mother’s family history, she’s the only known necromancer. The Elders of the Atonement Settlement decided she was an outlier, an aberration. I know that’s not true. How many members of my family had to hide their nature, fearful of detection?

  “It’s been bothering me since the first time it happened. Why now, Ilyse? After all this time? When father talked about the girl in the Bridgetown Settlement raising the dead to destroy it, it occurred to me that maybe we’re under suspicion of being just like her. Maybe the Chantry is testing us because of what she did and to prevent us from doing the same thing. People fear the necromancers, but trust them. But after what that girl did, I bet there’s been an outcry.”

  The Chantry is powerful, but restricted by treaties with other settlements of the Outland Territory and The Republic. The Chantry doesn’t force discovered talent to join them according to their spokeswoman, but potential necromancers have been known to disappear. Authorities declare them runaways, but I’ve heard my father say he suspects they were kidnapped by the nomads that roam the world outside the walls and turned over to the Chantry.

  I clutch the now empty glass to my chest. My heart thumps with fear. Perhaps there is much more happening than I imagined. If I hadn’t witnessed Quade’s powers with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have suspected him of being from the Chantry. After what happened in the shop earlier, it’s evident that he has some sort of power. Maybe he’s like me: an unknown person with power attempting to stay hidden.

  “Ilyse?” Carrie touches my arm lightly to draw my attention. “Why are you so quiet?”

  “I think you might be right,” I answer. “Which means we have to be very careful.”

  “So what do we do if another of the Beloved Dead appears in the garden? Do we take them back to the Perdition Sanctuary again?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.

  “I’m scared, Ilyse. What if they suspect us?”

  I realize how foolhardy I was to believe that I could protect Carrie. While I stayed silent, she’s been living alone with her fears. “You’re not a necromancer, Carrie. They can’t suspect you.”

  Pressing her lips together, she swallows hard. She lowers her gaze and says, “But you are.”

  I exhale, nodding. Of course, she had suspected the truth. She’s not a fool. “I might be. If the Elders come, you will say that you knew nothing about any of this and I will confess.
”

  “Ilyse, you can’t!” She flinches, realizing she raised her voice. Keeping a wary eye on the doorway, she whispers, “You can’t confess. You must hide whatever you are until we can figure out what to do.”

  “This is my burden to bear, not yours.” I give her a stern look. “Mine, Carrie. Mine alone.”

  There’s a step outside the door and we fall silent, our backs straightening with fear and anticipation.

  Our aunt steps into the parlor. “Enough dawdling, girls. Wash up for dinner. Your father expects you to be seated on time. Ilyse, are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I answer.

  My aunt stares at me, her lean face emotionless and her eyes piercing. It feels as if she’s peeling away all my barriers to expose my hidden lies. With a tight smile, she says, “I’m glad. It’s unfortunate you had a fainting spell during the attack of the Unblessed. I know you’ll do your best to not suffer any more such episodes so close to your Bridal Auction. People do talk.”

  “I won’t. I promise,” I answer.

  She nods and departs, leaving us in uneasy silence. Carrie reaches out and takes my hand, her fingers shaking. It’s then I make up my mind to do something that’s both necessary and incredibly risky. If I’m caught, I will immediately lose my Pious Standing, but I fear something much worse will happen to me if I don’t.

  When midnight comes, I’ll sneak out and go see Quade at the old Murrow House at the edge of the cemetery.

  Chapter 6

  The House on the Hill

  I try not to fall asleep, but the moment my head settles on my pillow I lose the battle. I might have slept through the night if not for continuous nightmares.

  In every one I’m standing among the Unblessed outside the high walls that protect the Atonement Settlement. The overwhelming smell of death fills my nostrils, and I recoil as rotting bodies brush against my bare arms. None reach for me, or try to bite into my flesh. Instead, they seem to welcome me as one of their own. The Unblessed spread out around me for endless miles with only the walls of the Atonement Settlement blocking their passage. Their moans vibrate in my chest as I’m swept forward, caught in the horde. I struggle to free myself from the crushing bodies but I’m trapped. The dreams end with the resounding crack of the wall shattering and the dead flooding into the settlement.