Unholy Spirit (The Necromancer's Daughter Book 3)

by Genevra Black

  “Whoa,” said Mikey, thankfully still in the Genesis, Adam realized with sagging relief. “Someone’s got a crush.”

  The paladin—Adam had taken to thinking of Marius that way—turned and looked them over with disbelief. "By the Wolfbinder, you're actually alive..."

  Edie reached out, her fingers awkward and hesitant as she too-briefly touched Marius's jaw. "What … what the hell happened? You look like you haven't shaved in—" Her tone shifted, darkening. "What happened?"

  Adam turned in time to see Basile glaring at him as he tucked the glowing crystal into his pocket. "Just as I thought, your little stunt had consequences. You're a real rebel, Frankenstein. We’re all very impressed."

  "What are you talking about?" Adam breathed.

  "I hope you're proud of yourself. You lot have been gone for three weeks.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Basile's words dropped like an anchor in the silence, and Edie felt her heart drop along with them. Three weeks? It felt like they had been gone for a day, max.

  Still, Marius's beard didn't lie. The sleeping bags, the lantern, the fact that Yuval—who was now staring at them with tears in her eyes—was bringing them food… It was bitterly cold, when it had only been unseasonably chilly before. Time had passed, and the priest and vivid had been living here all that time, waiting for them. But why—

  Edie's train of thought was cut off by a cry of pain behind her. She turned to see Satara standing at the edge of the platform, her wings visible. They shuddered close around her shoulders, and feathers rained from them, coming to rest around the shieldmaiden's feet. They left behind bare patches and slick blood clinging to the remaining feathers. It pattered onto the subway floor.

  The change was so sudden that Edie found herself looking around for the enemy who had done it. "Satara!"

  She brushed past Marius to go to her, but Satara held out her hands, shaking like a leaf. Her chest rose and fell quickly. "Don't— don't touch me, please..."

  "What's happening?" Edie's voice sounded quiet in her own ears, far away. "What's happening to them?"

  "You were gone for three weeks," Basile said grimly. "The fledgling curse is catching up to her."

  Satara loosed a choking sob and covered her face. Her knees shook as she struggled to stay upright. Edie reached out, careful to avoid her wings, and tried to steady her. The cloying, coppery scent of blood and rotting flesh filled her nostrils. Angry, pulsing purple veins crawled up Satara’s arms and throat. How could this have happened so quickly?

  "We have to get her to the other valkyir," Marius said abruptly, turning to Basile. "Whatever we need to do, let’s do it at once."

  The priest simply nodded and set to work drawing a translocation circle. Decidedly less attitude than Edie had anticipated, considering Marius's demanding tone.

  The vivid's hand began to glow brightly, and he took a few steps closer to Satara, catching her eyes. "Can I try to heal you?"

  Her only response was a nod and a miserable groan. The pain radiating from her almost made Edie’s body ache, too.

  Marius touched Satara’s arm gently, and her skin glowed a warm brown as the magic melted into her. But there was no improvement to the shaking—if anything, it got worse. A second later, she yelped sharply and jerked away from him.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Basile said, looking up from his work. "Edie, you might be able to stop the bleeding. Yuval, you could try to wash the wounds. But healing will only make things worse."

  Marius turned on him and snapped, "Why?"

  "It's not the gods' will."

  "Fuck the gods!"

  Edie looked at him, goosebumps raising along her arms. Her heart jumped strangely. Fuck the gods, Marius? What had happened in these past three weeks?

  Basile didn't argue, simply finished the translocation spell and empowered it. "Let's take care of the spirit ... then I'll tell you the next step."

  Yuval and Edie flanked Satara, carefully helping her toward the glowing circle of runes that would get them the hell out of here. As they went, followed by Marius and Adam, Edie reached out with her mind, blood magic touching every open wound she could feel on Satara's wings. With practiced haste, she bade the magic to flow into them, slowly stopping what bleeding she could.

  They huddled into the circle of runes, and the etchings flashed. The world swam, flickering, then they were standing in the living room of the Manhattan apartment.

  Yuval and Marius moved away first, helping Satara to the couch. The stream of feathers she left behind was diminishing, but she still shook, barely able to regulate her breathing. Yuval murmured something in Hebrew, sucking water droplets from the air to sluice over Satara's worst wounds.

  Edie stepped out of the circle and glanced back to see Adam gazing around the stylish apartment. "Where are we?" he asked, moving toward the drawn curtains.

  "This is the apartment we’ve been staying in.”

  The hellerune leveled a glare at Basile. "What about my place? Where's Elle?"

  "We had to evacuate," the priest said dismissively. "The Gloaming were catching on. Elle and Cal are here now.”

  "You didn't think maybe you should tell me that?"

  Basile rolled his eyes. "You'll be able to get back to your anime figurines and your PlayStation soon enough, my friend. Try not to sprain something crying."

  "What's your problem?" Adam demanded.

  "What's my problem?” The priest turned. “My problem is you went and broke an entire plane, Adam! And the consequences of breaking that plane? You broke time, you did this!" He flung an arm toward Satara.

  "That engine thing was hurting Elle," Adam replied hotly. "It was hurting all of those people."

  "You still can't just ... do whatever you want! This is how our universe operates. Nature doesn't have morals, Adam. These things are essential, even if—"

  "That's a bullshit excuse for not trying. No, no—that's a bullshit excuse for you to do whatever the hell you want." Adam pointed at him. "The universe doesn't have to operate on suffering just because that's the way it's always been."

  "Elle is just one soul! You went and cocked everything up because of one person. You were selfish."

  "Saving someone isn’t selfish. Just because you don't give a shit about anybody doesn't mean everyone else should feel that way, too."

  "Look at Satara!" The priest was shouting now, and Edie shrank away from them. "You did that. You screwed with the universe and she's being punished for it!"

  "I— I didn't—"

  "You think I don't give a shit?" Basile raged. "I do! I give too much of a shit, about everything, about everyone, and I'm old as dirt, Adam. Do you know how many people I've watched die? How many goddamn atrocities I've seen committed? It's too much. That's the problem!" He let his hands fall against his thighs, and his voice dropped to just above speaking volume. "But neither you nor I can ever change the way things are, so why try? Why suffer the consequences?"

  There was a moment of silence as he stared at Adam expectantly. Finally, Adam replied, exasperation straining his voice, "Because what else can we do?"

  "Uh … hello?”

  Edie's heart soared when she recognized Cal's voice. She jumped out from behind Basile and Adam to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed. His eyes lit up when he saw her. She felt him prodding at their connection with his mind, and she responded in kind, grinning despite the tense air in the room.

  His gaze snapped back to the two men, then to Satara. "What in the sideways fuck is happening in here?"

  Satara raised her head, nails digging into her upper arms as she hugged herself. She squirmed, apparently unable to sit still. "I ... I can barely think."

  "She's in a lot of pain," Yuval said evenly, still tending to the wounds. "If I had to guess, it's probably weeks of pain all at once."

  "I'm sorry," Adam whispered. "I didn't know—"

  "Wait, wait, wait. Explain this to me." Cal drifted to stand next to Satara, glancing betw
een Yuval and Marius. It only took a few sentences to convey the situation to him, and when he understood, he looked at Adam. "Jesus Christ, bro."

  "I'm sorry," he mumbled again.

  "Well, standing around feeling sorry for her isn't going to cure her," Basile said, taking the full keeper paragon from his pocket. "The only thing we can do is end this and move on."

  Cal squeezed Satara’s shoulder briefly, then followed Basile and Adam as they left the living room. Edie looked back at the three on the couch. "Will you be all right here?"

  Yuval nodded, but Satara didn't respond, forehead pressed to her knees. Marius simply sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist. She could tell he was itching to heal Satara, upset that he could do nothing to help.

  "It's going to be okay," Edie said, in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "I'll be right back."

  By the time she entered the master bedroom, Adam, Basile, and Cal were already crowded by the head of the bed. The curtains were drawn here, too, and they were all looking down at Elle's body. At some point in the past three weeks, someone had dressed her in pajamas, but otherwise, she looked just the same as she had before—gray and seemingly asleep. The sight still made Edie shudder.

  Nonetheless, she stood at the foot of the bed, listening to Basile's chanting. His spell was similar to the one he had first cast, when he'd extracted her from the guitar. Edie could only hope this time would be different. She wasn’t going into the Wending a second time … if there was still a Wending to go to.

  She watched anxiously as the light within the paragon glowed brighter and began to leak from it, feeling its way almost cautiously into the open air. Sweat beaded on Basile's forehead as he concentrated on the flow of spirit energy, trying to keep a tight hold on it. Slowly, he guided it—with his hand, this time—from the crystal to Elle's body.

  There was a moment of resistance, where the energy jerked and tried to wiggle from his hand. A collective sharp inhale broke over the priest's chanting for a moment, but he held fast, his voice never wavering.

  Suddenly, with an impossibly quick movement, the spirit fled his grip. Edie’s pulse jumped, her body lurching forward as if she could catch it—

  It darted forward and stuck to Elle. Then, it spread, and for a split second, her entire form was covered with a periwinkle film.

  Then, finally, it sank into her, becoming one with her.

  Edie released a breath.

  But even as relief washed over her, she knew there was something wrong. She came closer and noticed that, even though the soul had clearly made its home in Elle's body, her skin color hadn't changed. It stayed the same death-gray, and her chest was still, no breath entering her lungs.

  For a moment, Edie wondered if it hadn't worked, if all that pain had been for nothing. Maybe people couldn't be resurrected. Basile had said that he wasn't sure what would happen.

  Then, Elle opened her eyes.

  They weren't the dark brown eyes that Edie had expected, though. They were milky and greenish. Dead. And in the pits of her pupils, at the back of her skull, blue light coiled like a snake.

  Reality hit Edie with enough force that it knocked the wind from her. They hadn't resurrected her at all.

  Elle was a revenant.

  Slowly and with a groan, the dead girl sat up, looking around. "Adam...?"

  He hesitated before reaching out to cup her face. His grimace told Edie it must be freezing to the touch. "I'm here. How do you ... feel?"

  She blinked her milky eyes, considering. "I ... I feel really weird."

  Edie looked at Basile. "What happened? She's—"

  "She's a revenant," Cal cut in, crossing his arms. "I can feel it."

  "Revenant?" Elle squeaked, looking between them. "Like a zombie? But you said you could make me alive again!"

  The priest shifted uncomfortably, but his expression remained impassive. "I never promised anything. I wasn’t sure what might happen.”

  "Whose revenant?" Edie asked.

  "Adam's, I assume."

  Adam said nothing for a moment, seemingly concentrating on Elle. Then, his brows tilted helplessly. "It feels ... different. Like I can almost hear your thoughts. But"—he glared at Basile—"you did the ritual. If anything, wouldn't she be connected to you?"

  "I'm draugborn. There's no soul for her to connect to." He gestured to the Genesis still on Adam's back. "You must have marked her as your own or something when you trapped her spirit. I don't know. I've never seen anything quite like this before."

  Cal huffed and took out a cigarette, putting it between his lips without lighting it. His leg bounced quickly. "That don't sit right. Revenants are made with human sacrifice and shit. You can't just ... steal someone’s soul and put it in their own damn body."

  "And yet." Basile motioned to Elle.

  She'd pulled Adam onto the bed with her and was huddled in his arms. The sight made Edie's heart ache. Usually, she was able to compartmentalize the feelings, but every once in a while, she missed her own dad so much she wanted to cry.

  "But," the priest continued, "we could sit around all day wondering why. The reality is staring us in the face; we just deal with it now and figure it out later."

  Adam laughed humorlessly. "That's easy for you to say. Just deal with it. My kid is an undead thrall.”

  "Listen, lunatic, you got what you wanted. She's back, so don't cry to me about—"

  "Can you two go three fucking minutes without fighting like little pissbabies?" Cal rasped, then looked at Adam sternly. "She's only as much of a thrall as you make her."

  "She doesn't have freedom," he returned. "She can't be alone with her thoughts. She's open to suggestion from me. It's not all the way freedom, anyway. That matters."

  His words seemed to irk Cal, who squirmed like he had an itch between his shoulders that he couldn't get to. He looked at Elle instead. "I'll teach you to build a wall around your brain." He paused. "I better teach you a couple other things while we're at it. Anti-decomp charms, glamour, what you can eat—"

  "What I can eat?" Elle burst out. "Do you mean I can't eat food?!"

  "Uh ... not unless it's a reeeeally rare steak."

  She stared at him for a moment before her face crumpled, sobs bubbling up from her chest. She tucked her face against Adam's shoulder and wept, though there were only a few small tears and no crying blush to be seen.

  It was unsettling to see her looking so lifeless and yet moving around. No wonder her dad was upset. Edie would almost have preferred a rotting zombie.

  Cal met Edie's eyes. "Let's give ’er some time."

  She nodded and gave Adam and his daughter one last look before stepping out into the hall, followed shortly by Cal and Basile. She peeled her jacket from her sweat-coated torso and realized for the first time how desperately she needed a shower. "Well, that was traumatic."

  "Yes," Basile murmured, adjusting his glasses. "But he can't be mad at me. I did what he asked; I put her back in there."

  "He can probably do whatever the hell he wants," Cal said with a shrug, taking the unlit cigarette from his lips. "I barely remember when I first woke up, but I can tell you it wasn't fun. I didn't exactly have the luxury of workin’ through it, so I'm not about to tell a little girl to buck up and shut the fuck up."

  "She's only a year younger than me," Edie said with a hint of amusement.

  "Little girl."

  "All right." Basile sighed heavily. "I get it. I'll leave it be. It's not like either of them are going to be much help for the coming trials."

  "Right. Let's get Satara."

  Edie threw her jacket over one shoulder and started down the hall. When she entered the living room, the curtains had been opened, revealing the city below. The brightness of the light stabbed Edie’s eyes, and it took her a moment to adjust. Her heart dropped when she realized the streets and rooftops were blanketed with a foot of snow, as if it was January and not July.

  "Edie?" Yuval's voice caught her attention, and she realized she'd been s
till and staring for more than a few seconds.

  She tore her gaze from the window to look at their hostess, then Marius, then Satara, who still sat curled up on the couch. Her shaking had diminished, though, and her eyes were more focused. She even managed a smile as Edie came to sit on the coffee table across from her.

  "How are you feeling?" Edie asked gently.

  "Better, thanks to Yuval ... and you." The shieldmaiden glanced between them, looking more exhausted, now, than pained. "I think she was right and the pain was just catching up to me. It still feels … awful, but nothing I can't handle.”

  Edie nodded, gaze flicking over the still-visible wings. They were naked in places, bruised, a subtle scent of rot drifting from them. Seeing them as they were now, Edie had no trouble imagining that this process could poison Satara's blood.

  She glanced up as Basile and Cal entered the room.

  "So?" Marius urged. "Elle?"

  "Back in her body, though not quite as we'd hoped." The priest sighed and explained the revenant situation, and puzzlement filled the room all over again.

  "That ... shouldn't be possible, right?" Satara asked.

  He shrugged. "Evidently, it is. No idea on the why. But that's the reality, so we'll just have to work with it."

  Yuval stood. "I should go check on them. New Yorkers gotta look out for each other." She smiled and touched Satara's shoulder briefly before hurrying past Cal.

  As she did, Basile peered pointedly at Satara. "Anyway, all the questions can come later. There's a more pressing matter at the moment, isn't there?"

  The shieldmaiden’s wings twitched, and a shudder ran through her. "Yes," was all she managed.

  Basile took off his glasses, cleaning them on the hem of his turtleneck. "All right. First things first, in order to transition to a valkyrie, you'll have to be vested by other valkyir—as you probably know. For this … you'll have to go to Asgard."

  Edie blinked. The World of the gods? That Asgard?

  She turned to look at Satara, but the shieldmaiden didn't seem surprised, or perhaps she was too drained to react. On her left, Marius glanced between her and Basile with intensity.