“Because he has a beautiful light in him as well,” I retorted a bit too defensively, feeling instantly protective that he should be in any way criticized, even though that wasn’t what Pharos was doing.
“As do you,” Kali replied before her mate could.
“As I used to,” I said bitterly, my hand closing over the medallion around my neck.
“A Honghadda witch trapped part of her soul in this amulet,” Lyall said, jumping straight into the main reason for our presence here. “Can either of you help?”
The almost pleading edge in his voice broke my heart, even more so when both Kali and Pharos gave him and then me an apologetic look.
“Too much of Eleni’s soul has been transferred,” Pharos explained. “If only a quarter of her soul had been funneled into the Amulet, it would have returned back to her on its own as soon as the ritual had been interrupted. Now, it requires a very specific type of intervention.”
“More importantly,” Kali interjected, “more than two-thirds of your soul is now trapped in that amulet. You absolutely must not part with it until you are made whole again. If separated, what remains of your soul in your corporal vessel will decay rapidly, and you will die within a few hours. But either way, you must be made whole quickly. A soul cannot remain fractured. The greater part will try to reclaim the missing part. Over time,what’s left inside you will seep into the Amulet to be whole again. Then your body will become an empty shell.”
I swallowed hard while nodding stiffly at her statements. From my painful experience in the Sanctuary, I knew firsthand not to part with the wretched Amulet. But learning that I lived on borrowed time—even should I keep the necklace safely around my neck—was another blow I could have done without.
“You’re an Angel of Death,” I said to Pharos, hope audible in my voice. “You move souls in and out of people all the time. Can you move mine back in?”
“I’m afraid not,” Pharos said apologetically.
“Of course, he can’t,” Lyall hissed. “That fucking Covenant always gets in the way.”
Even as my shoulders slouched, I couldn’t help but notice the troubled expression that flitted over Pharos’s face in light of his brother’s reaction. He hesitated and appeared to choose his words carefully.
“This actually isn’t mainly an issue of the Covenant—although that would have indeed gotten in the way as well,” Pharos said.
“What?” Lyall asked, confused.
“Reapersremovesouls from their hosts and escort them to one of the realms of the afterlife,” he explained. “We do not put them back in. Once the soul has been taken out, we cannot return it. The only other thing we can do is to temporarily sever the link between the soul and the body to remove any physical pain a dying person may feel.”
“I see,” Lyall said pensively.
“Do I understand correctly that you are a necromancer?” I asked Kali.
She nodded. “Yes, I am. I specialize in bone and blood magic. And since marrying Pharos, I’ve been dabbling a lot more into soul magic.”
“That’s wonderful!” I exclaimed, hope blossoming again in my heart. “Necromancers play with souls all the time. So if you’re into soul magic—”
“No,” Kali said, interrupting me with a finality that struck me like a boulder in the chest. “Youdo notwant my aid in this.”
“Why in the world would I not?!” I asked, genuinely confused and a bit angry at what felt like an almost heartless refusal to assist.
“Because doing this would basically enslave you to me,” Kali said, a haunted look flitting through her stunning gray eyes.
“It would be a little bit like what the necromancer Cornelius did to me,” Pharos explained. “I was his involuntary puppet for centuries until my Kali helped free me.”
Kali nodded. “Obviously, I would never treat anyone the way that monster treated Pharos and my brother Jasper—who he had also enslaved. But that’s the way of necromancy. When we place a soul into a body or construct, we create a permanent bond of servitude. This is why I keep my practice of soul magic to a minimum. If I did this for you, even if I wouldn’t abuse such a link between us, you must understand that you would never be free. Your soul would be mine. And I will never do that to anyone.”
Anger and despair swelled within me. Even though no one here was at fault for my current predicament, I couldn’t help the burning urge to turn them all to cinders to vent my frustration at the unfairness of it all.
“So what you’re saying is that I’m fucked,” I said angrily.
Lyall gently rubbed my back in an appeasing fashion. Kali hesitated, not because she was offended by my aggressive reaction, but because she appeared to be weighing her response.
“Actually, I heard of a ritual that can be performed in Hecate’s temple,” she replied carefully. “As far as I know, it was only achieved by a Fallen, With everyone else failing. So I cannotmake any promises as far as the success rates go. I only know that it can work.’
“Where is the temple? And what is the ritual?” Lyall demanded, his voice filled with the same sliver of hope I felt.
“The temple is located in the Deadwing Pass on the northern peak of Wolfmoon Mountains. Rituals to that goddess are more powerful when performed there during the full moon,” Kali said. “Which will be in about two weeks.”
