Specialdidn’t even cut it.
17
~Winter~
“Do you feel it?” Dad asked me.
“Feel it?” I murmured, distracted by the sight in front of us.Holy hell.
“A push at the door to the Valley of the Dead? The call for the illicitly raised to be returned to their natural state?”
We both had our palms upturned, him to my left and slightly in front of me in a protective stance. I’d seen him straining not to employ more than that.
I looked from his flickering crimson flames to my amber fire. “Yeah, like a resonant hum of sorts that’s specifically calling to my death magic.”
“That’s it.”
Now I’d answered his training question, my full focus went to the figures fifty feet from us all over the dark sands beach.
Yeah, Ambrose’s place.
Well, close to the entrance to that particular black magic plane.
He wasn’t here right now.
Some enemies of his—two black magic users who were rogue and twisted sorcerers wielding it like maniacs—had risen the dead and sent them here to get under his skin.
He’d called Dad, knowing he was training me, and now it had been turned into an exercise, not just a necessary necromantic takedown.
Dad and Ambrose would usually deal with it themselves. Ambrose had already incapacitated the black magic users, but they’d entrenched their spell into the risen dead themselves, enabling them to keep walking the world, even though the sorcerers had been sent to Ryker at the Guardian Movement for arrest and processing once Ambrose had neutralized their black magic so it couldn’t infect anyone there.
This was the aspect of Necromancy I’d always been so afraid of, because it involved invoking Risen Reckoning.
But as Dad had kept telling me on the way here, it was the proper use of Risen Reckoning—not using it on the living like Morien had done.
Today had been so great before thisexercisehad come my way.
We’d spent hours at what had become our constant training ground on that picturesque and peaceful mountain range. Mom had popped by again and she and Dad had taught me a cool spell that they’d performed together when they’d first met.
They’d named it a Blended Wraith-Necromancer Concealment Spell. Necromantic and Wraith magic worked off the same twilight resonance which enabled both to naturally harmonize with each other’s power. That spell involved using necromantic tethering and Wraith cloaking. For them, they’d used Mom’s Dark Fae magic to add a misdirection element using illusionary magic. But for me, as that wasn’t available, I’d used my own spell that I’d actually created recently in myGrimoire Creationclass just to manufacture illusions more powerfully—and it had worked. Mom and Dad had both been so excited and impressed when I’d used that and my combo of Wraith and Necromancy to pull the spell off on my own, fusing it together within me. They’d even called Father and Pops in to watch me in action.
It had been so great. So fucking great.
And now… I didn’t want that to end.
And I really didn’t want to shy away again whenever something unsavory regarding Necromancy crossed my path.
As I kept reiterating to myself, I actually couldn’t.
So much was riding on me being able to do this.
They didn’t know it, none of them did, but they were counting on me—my family, my loves. Because it had to be me. My interactions with Ruxnoth had made that clear. My recent testing of that shard I’d captured had made that clear. I was close to cracking the living equation regarding that warmth addiction Ruxnoth had caused in me, but in the process, I’d felt something about Sanctus itself.
It couldn’t be destroyed by any conventional means. Not through anything like a brute force magical assault. From what I’d gathered so far, the one infusing the metaphysical construct with its lifeforce had to will it, to make it so. Basically, there had to be a bond to the construct to be able to impact it in any way. Considering Ruxnoth’s intention was for that to become me, therein lay our solution to stopping that thing from destroying the balance and harming the mortal plane in terrifying ways. Me. I was the solution. Me bonding with the construct was the solution.
Obviously, I needed to deepen my investigation to be certain—especially before I told anyone. But even then, how were they ever going to accept that? Just suggesting it would set off alarm bells. And if my family locked me down, tried to stop me… whatRuxnoth would do with them getting in his way of pulling me down there… I couldn’t even stomach the thought of it.
“Winter?”
