I blanched. “What? You’ve been practicing necromancy?”
“Oh, hush. I only use it to enhance my powers, particularly when a patient teeters between life and death.” She gave me a long, knowing look. “You, my friend, are a life weaver.”
“A what?” I shook my head. She had to be mistaken. “No. I don’thavefae magic. All I can do is glamour.”
“Well, that’s not true at all, based on what you told me.” Lavinia grabbed a cloth from the counter and began pressing it to Eira’s wound to staunch the bleeding. “Your magic is necromancy.”
“I did not perform necromancy,” I growled. “I didn’t raise anyone from the dead. She was still alive!”
Lavinia shook her head with a sly smile on her face as she continued to apply pressure to the wound.
My anger and impatience took over, and I gestured wildly to Eira, still lying prone on the table. “Can you heal her, please? She doesn’t have much time left.”
“Well, you could easily just bring her back to life, with magic like that.” But Lavinia obliged, raising her blood-stained hands in the air. Purple magic ignited on her fingertips as she pressed them against Eira’s wound. The princess jerked violently, her face crumpling in pain, but I took that asa good sign—it meant she wasn’t as close to death’s door as I’d feared.
I drew closer, but Lavinia snapped, “Back up, boy. I need space to work.”
I grumbled a curse before turning away to let her work her spells. Hovering wouldn’t help, and watching Eira twitch and cringe as Lavinia worked on her would do me no favors, either. Reluctantly, I withdrew from the room, forcing myself to inspect the strange specimens floating in jars on the shelves in the sitting room. I tried to ignore the moans and cries coming from the kitchen. I knew firsthand that Lavinia’s particular brand of magic hurt like hell, but it was the most effective healing I’d ever endured. Except for maybe that of the pixies.
After what felt like an eternity, Lavinia emerged from the kitchen, wiping her bloody hands on a rag. “It’s done. She’ll live.”
Relief filled my chest, and I sagged against the wall. I hadn’t realized until that moment how exhausted I was.
“That Demon Fae did a number on her,” she went on with a weary groan. “It made the spell much more difficult for me.”
I blinked at her. “Demon Fae?”
“Yes. I could sense its poison in her. I was too preoccupied with sealing her wound, so I didn’t have time to inspect it further.”
I stared at her in confusion. The Demon Fae had poisonedme, not Eira. Then again, I had been bleeding profusely while riding Mauro alongside her. The scent of my poisoned blood likely still lingered on the princess.
“Rest.” Lavinia pointed to the small sofa behind me.
I shook my head. “No, you need to tell me more about this necromantic magic you mentioned.”
Lavinia smirked. “Ah, yes. You necromancers must be careful with the power you wield. You seem rather fond of this girl, hmm?” She gestured to the kitchen behind her. “Be careful not to kiss her, boy. It is said necromancers possess the kiss of death.”
I gaped at her, horrified.
She laughed and waved a hand. “Oh, calm down. I’m only kidding. Unless you channel your power into the kiss, it’s harmless.”
“How can you be so sure my magic is necromancy at all? And why hasn’t this magic shown itself before now?”
“My guess is you weren’t under enough duress for it to come to life. Necromancy is powerful, but it’s bloody difficult to awaken. Many necromancers spend their entire lives trying to activate their magic with no success. Some could only activate their powers if they bound their magic to an enchanted object.”
I frowned. “An enchanted object?”
“Yes. With the right spell, anyone can link their magical essence to an object imbued with power. It enhances an ability, but it’s risky; once cast, the spell empowers this object, creating a sort of conduit for your magic. If anyone were to acquire this conduit, they could destroy it and potentially disrupt the connection to your magic completely.” She paused, then eyed me shrewdly. “But I have a feeling you won’t need to resort to such methods.” Her gaze dipped to my belt of knives, which I usually glamoured. But my magic was depleted, and my mind was only on Eira. At the moment, I was too tired to care.
“You’re a hunter,” she said.
“Yes.”
“It’s easy for you to take a life, yes?”
I hesitated. “I’m very good at what I do.”
She snorted. “I’m sure you are.” She rubbed her chin again. “Now that is interesting.”
