conduit to the rest of the world.
He knew she was worried. He probably even knew why; Nathan had never been stupid.
And he’d never been selfish, either.
“Em,” he said, as she brought the phone to her cheek. “Let go. Ally’s right. It’s
cold.”
She ignored him. “Hello?” To Allison, she mouthed,
Eric
. “We’re just out walking Petal. I’m with Allison. No, we’re near the ravine, why?”
Her eyes rounded. The phone slid from her face as she turned.
“What’s happened?” Allison asked, voice rising.
“Eric says—Eric says we have two Necromancers incoming. He wants us to head to the
cemetery. Now.”
“Why the cemetery?”
“It’s closest to where he and Chase are. They’ll meet us there.”
* * *
“I don’t understand what the Necromancers want,” Allison said, shortening the leash
and picking up the pace.
Emma was silent for half a block. One phone call from Eric had turned quiet night
shadows into dangerous omens. “Ally, I want you to go home.”
Allison stared at her.
“They’re not—they’re not after you. If you go home now, you should be safe.”
Allison felt a pang of something that was like anger. Or hurt. Hadn’t she just had
this argument? Coming from Emma, it was harder. Her hands were shaking. Her throat
was dry. Speaking over the fear took work. “Don’t.”
“I don’t want you hurt.”
“Don’t say it.”
“If they’re here, they’re hunting me or Eric or Chase—”
Adrenaline made Allison’s hands shake; it wasn’t just the cold. The last time they’d
seen Necromancers, they’d had guns. Allison never wanted to see them again. “If I
go home and something happens to you—”
“Ally, what are you going to do if you don’t go home and the Necromancers find us?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure that out if it happens.” Her eyes, made much larger by
her glasses, narrowed.
Nathan reached up to touch Emma’s cheek; his hand stopped an inch from skin and fell,
curling into a brief fist. “Em, listen to Ally. She’s right more often than she’s
wrong.”
“You shouldn’t be here, either,” Allison told him. “You’re dead. Necromancers use
the dead for power—and if they don’t have enough, they’ll grab whatever they can reach.”
Nathan shook his head. “I’m not in danger. I’m already dead. There’s not a lot they
can do to me to change that. There’s a lot they can do to you—but you’re staying.”
He hesitated, and then said, “If the dead have power to give to the living, I’m willing
to give all I have to Emma.”
Allison couldn’t argue. She didn’t tell Nathan that Emma didn’t know how to take that
power, and didn’t know how to use it. Emma believed that—but Allison wasn’t certain.
Emma had walked into the phantasm of a fire that no one else could see unless she
touched them. Emma had walked out again, hair singed, clothing black with soot.
Emma had given Maria Copis the ability to see her dead son—and the ability to pick
him up and carry him, at long last, out of the fire that had killed him. If Em wasn’t
trained in magical, Necromantic magic, she could still do things that Allison couldn’t
explain. And could never hope to do herself.
But Emma’s question hung in the air between them. Nathan at least had the sense to
stand on the far side.
What can I do? If Necromancers come, what can I possibly do?
They picked up the pace in the uncomfortable, heightened silence.
Emma didn’t have to drag Petal with her; he hunkered down by her side, like a portable,
living tank. The streets were dark; the streetlamps were high and unevenly spaced,
and there were no houses on this side of the street. There were graves just beyond
the fence that bounded the cemetery, and moonlight, although the background of city
lights caused stars to fade from view on all but the clearest of nights.
Petal’s growling grew deeper.
Allison stopped walking. In
He knew she was worried. He probably even knew why; Nathan had never been stupid.
And he’d never been selfish, either.
“Em,” he said, as she brought the phone to her cheek. “Let go. Ally’s right. It’s
cold.”
She ignored him. “Hello?” To Allison, she mouthed,
Eric
. “We’re just out walking Petal. I’m with Allison. No, we’re near the ravine, why?”
Her eyes rounded. The phone slid from her face as she turned.
“What’s happened?” Allison asked, voice rising.
“Eric says—Eric says we have two Necromancers incoming. He wants us to head to the
cemetery. Now.”
“Why the cemetery?”
“It’s closest to where he and Chase are. They’ll meet us there.”
* * *
“I don’t understand what the Necromancers want,” Allison said, shortening the leash
and picking up the pace.
Emma was silent for half a block. One phone call from Eric had turned quiet night
shadows into dangerous omens. “Ally, I want you to go home.”
Allison stared at her.
“They’re not—they’re not after you. If you go home now, you should be safe.”
Allison felt a pang of something that was like anger. Or hurt. Hadn’t she just had
this argument? Coming from Emma, it was harder. Her hands were shaking. Her throat
was dry. Speaking over the fear took work. “Don’t.”
“I don’t want you hurt.”
“Don’t say it.”
“If they’re here, they’re hunting me or Eric or Chase—”
Adrenaline made Allison’s hands shake; it wasn’t just the cold. The last time they’d
seen Necromancers, they’d had guns. Allison never wanted to see them again. “If I
go home and something happens to you—”
“Ally, what are you going to do if you don’t go home and the Necromancers find us?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure that out if it happens.” Her eyes, made much larger by
her glasses, narrowed.
Nathan reached up to touch Emma’s cheek; his hand stopped an inch from skin and fell,
curling into a brief fist. “Em, listen to Ally. She’s right more often than she’s
wrong.”
“You shouldn’t be here, either,” Allison told him. “You’re dead. Necromancers use
the dead for power—and if they don’t have enough, they’ll grab whatever they can reach.”
Nathan shook his head. “I’m not in danger. I’m already dead. There’s not a lot they
can do to me to change that. There’s a lot they can do to you—but you’re staying.”
He hesitated, and then said, “If the dead have power to give to the living, I’m willing
to give all I have to Emma.”
Allison couldn’t argue. She didn’t tell Nathan that Emma didn’t know how to take that
power, and didn’t know how to use it. Emma believed that—but Allison wasn’t certain.
Emma had walked into the phantasm of a fire that no one else could see unless she
touched them. Emma had walked out again, hair singed, clothing black with soot.
Emma had given Maria Copis the ability to see her dead son—and the ability to pick
him up and carry him, at long last, out of the fire that had killed him. If Em wasn’t
trained in magical, Necromantic magic, she could still do things that Allison couldn’t
explain. And could never hope to do herself.
But Emma’s question hung in the air between them. Nathan at least had the sense to
stand on the far side.
What can I do? If Necromancers come, what can I possibly do?
They picked up the pace in the uncomfortable, heightened silence.
Emma didn’t have to drag Petal with her; he hunkered down by her side, like a portable,
living tank. The streets were dark; the streetlamps were high and unevenly spaced,
and there were no houses on this side of the street. There were graves just beyond
the fence that bounded the cemetery, and moonlight, although the background of city
lights caused stars to fade from view on all but the clearest of nights.
Petal’s growling grew deeper.
Allison stopped walking. In
Similar Books
