Lux’s every muscle stiffened.
“You said nothing of this. I have already told her of her diagnosis. I have already recommended the Stripping.”
“As you should.”
A grumbled oath. “I see it is your plan to keep me in the dark.”
“You must learn to thrive in it as I do—or risk being lost.”
The healer snorted. “Good luck in your endeavor. When I said she was strong, I also meant her will.”
“Your faith is lacking,” replied the voice, and now it grew hard. “We must thank the Saints for their offering. It is by their design we have her at all, and so it is meant to be.”
“Of course, Overlord. I didn’t mean to falter. We will see it done.”
A low noise resounded, vibrating from deep within the manor. Lux felt it in her bones.
“Second Invocation already, is it?” said Artemis. Something clattered onto the counter. “The days do fly by. Here you are, Overlord. Freshly brewed.”
“Thank you, I’ve gone too long. After you.”
Lux waited until she heard the door open and shut and then waited a little while more. Tentatively, she pushed from the cart. The workroom was empty. On the counter, a pot sat suspended above a small flame; a thick substance within wasbubbling away. She was reminded of Riselda’s brewing when she was a child, how some concoctions would take days to cure but then could do great things. Like heal bones. This entire room smelled earthy and herby and warm, and if it weren’t for the conversation Lux had overhead, she might have been put at ease. As it was, she was sure every nerve of her body hummed.
No one had mentioned a living overlord before. And the only dead one she knew of had a portrait hanging in the hall. Why hadn’t Corvin told her about him? It didn’t make sense for a living leader to be kept secret.
Unless he isn’t living…
She rejected the thought. No. Ghosts did not exist. She could feel souls and they never lingered, regardless of the manner of their deaths. She coaxed them back from the Beyond every time.
But the rasping in that voice didn’t sound natural. It sounded like a nightmare. And that body entombed in icefeltlike one.
Her fingertip moved carefully over the rim of Artemis’s elixir. Lux was no stranger to aged men wanting her for some purpose or another. The mayor of Ghadra had desired her rare power to ensure his longevity. But what could this mysterious Overlord of Mothlock desire her for, if not for that? What could she possibly soothe? Her brilliance was broken.
Mistress of Mothlock.
Ghadra’s Necromancer.
Lux had no use for titles, and decidedly less for ones that tied her to something. And she would not be tied to something evil again.
They will never keep me here.
She would find out this night whether the lifeblood of Ghadra’s people lined Mothlock Manor. She would destroy it if it did, and then she would leave.
Damn the overlord.
Damn the Hallowed Banquet.
And damn her draw to Grimrook House as it sat beside that enthralling, consuming sea.
She would find Corvin, and she would trick him into telling her everything.
Chapter twenty-six
Luxleanedoverherbalcony.
Night had come early, and all she could see were shades of grey. She listened to the waves crash upon the cliffsides, a hauntingly beautiful melody. She brought her chin down to rest on her arms where they lay folded atopThe Risenon the balcony’s edge.
To the sea air, she said,“I’m thinking it was a mistake, coming all this way alone.” In response, the wind whipped against her, dragging her hair across her eyes. She pushed back to right the strands.
