With that, she rises from the bench and strides toward the palace without looking back. I watch her go, reluctant to take my eyes off her after coming so close to losing her yet again.
“I’ll make sure she gets some rest before going anywhere near the dungeons,” Meredy declares, getting to her feet and offering Danial a hand. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your room on my way. You need rest more than anything.”
Leaning heavily on Meredy’s shoulders for support, Danial limps off, leaving me, Jax, and Simeon alone.
“I have another theory,” I say quickly, before the others decide to go their separate ways, too. “About the soldiers.”
It’s an idea so wild that Danial, Meredy, and Valoria, in their various well-intentioned trappings of practicality, would have rolled their eyes if they’d heard it. But my fellow necromancers, the two boys sitting on either side of me, have never laughed at even my wildest thoughts before. I suppose this will be a test of our friendship.
Glancing between them, I get the words out quickly before I lose my nerve. “What if the reason we didn’t see a rogue mage working their magic on the soldiers at the demonstration is because that mage wasn’t there in the flesh?”
Simeon arches a brow. “You mean... a mage who can use their power from a great distance? I guess it’s possible. Many things are possible—the students at the temple remind me of that every day.”
I shake my head. “I mean... I know it’s a long shot—the longest—but what if a spirit from the Deadlands was loose in our world?”
“The Dead never came back with their powers when we raised them, though,” Jax says gruffly. He crosses his arms, looking confused, but not dismissive.
“I’m not talking about one of the Dead. I’m talking about a spirit who hasn’t been brought back by a necromancer. What if a spirit left the Deadlands on their own and came back here to seek revenge on Valoria for banishing them from their cozy life in Karthia?”
“You mean, the spirit of one of the Dead she had us take back after the battle?” Simeon asks, frowning. “They all seemed at peace with leaving on the night we said goodbye.”
“But that doesn’t mean they were okay with it after they had some time to think it over,” I argue. “Valoria made that decision pretty quickly after the battle. And last time I was in the Deadlands”—I pause, exchanging a look with Jax—“the spirits seemed to be avoidingus. Except for the one who looked frozen, like she’d been turned into a statue.”
My fellow necromancers are quiet, neither looking directly at me.
Face burning, I mutter, “Forget it.” I must sound ridiculous. “It’s not a practical theory, I was just thinking of how many enemies Valoria must have among the spirits. There’s Hadrien, for one, but there’s bound to be a host of others. Think of how many of his supporters we buried, and how many we locked up—some of them must have relatives in the Deadlands.”
I turn away from my friends, toward the cliffs. In the distance, at the point where the garden ends and a cliff overlooking the sea begins, there’s a faint blue haze that won’t begin to really glow until nightfall. Looking at it, I can’t help but worry about what’s been happening in the Deadlands since my last trip there.
“I think we should go,” Simeon says at last.
“Sparrow, I don’t know if what you’re suggesting is even possible, but there’s no better way to find out than asking the spirits themselves,” Jax agrees.
“Wait here, then,” I tell them, pointing toward the distant gate. “I just have to get Nipper, and then we’re going on a little trip.” I start to walk away, but turn back to add, “And nobody breathes a word of this to Valoria, in case it turns out to be for nothing. Deal?”
While our queen searches for answers her way, making lists and picking at gears, I’m going to seek them the only wayIknow how, even if it’s all for nothing. I’m going to probe the darkness of the Deadlands on the chance that something sinister might step into the light.
XXIII
The weight of my necromancer’s belt is like an old friend’s embrace, comforting and familiar. When I went to fetch Nipper, I couldn’t help putting it on. I even took a few extra moments to visit the kitchen and refill the glass vials of milk, honey, and blood that are supposed to accompany me to the Deadlands, and knowing they’re by my side makes me stand a little taller. I have my armor back.
“Looking good, Master Necromancer,” someone calls as I hurry down the hall, giving a soft, musical whistle. Meredy. We exchange a smile as I head outside.
With Nipper straining against her lead, I’m about to leap into the faint blue light of the gate after Jax and Simeon when movement out of the corner of my eye makes me pause. I turn back toward the palace, shielding my eyes against the dying sun.
It’s Azelie, standing near the edge of the gardens with a long pair of shears in hand, taking some clippings from the rows of herbs. “Be careful in there!” she calls after us, frowning uncertainly at the gate.
“We will,” I answer, wincing at how loud my voice sounds as itcarries across the otherwise empty grounds. “And Zee...” I give her my best pleading face. “If she asks, tell Valoria we’re just taking a peek in one of the cemeteries. Please?”
When she nods, I turn back to the gate and shift my focus to the task at hand.
Simeon and Jax are waiting for me on the other side of the gate, in a dank and dim tunnel. “Nice belt,” Jax tells me as we make our way down the long, dark path that eventually opens into the Deadlands.
“But where’s your pin?” Simeon asks, touching the sapphires above his heart.
I shrug. It still didn’t feel right to put it on even though I chose to wear my belt. That pin stands for something. It makes what we’re doing here seem too official, when really, we’re just breaking the law.
Pulling my cloak tighter around my shoulders—the chill in this world seeps all the way into my marrow—I guide Nipper through a pale, luminous garden, careful to keep both hands on her lead this time.
