Carrying the paste, she placed it beside the man’s fixed eyes. Dipping her fingers into the bowl, she painted in thick strokes beneath the lashes, swiping up into their corners. Pulling back the cloth covering, she drew the required array of intricate whorls from the center of the body’s chest down to the navel. Symbols that were ingrained into her mind’s eye and crucial to define. A final flourish embellished each hip.
She used it all as it didn’t work to skimp. She’d tried that before.
The Rise enchantment, as it was so named, was intense. It sapped so much of her strength every time. Yet, she’d perfected it years ago, memorized it even before then. Still, she laid out the leather-bound book, the one that smelled of musty parchment and herbs, and ran an unsoiled finger over the words. Their familiarity always eased the twinge of nerves that threatened before she began.
Confidence had never been counted among her strengths.
She cupped the man’s face gently with both hands, pressing her thumbs to his open eyes. She closed her own. “Back from Death we beckon.” With the very first turn of phrase, Lux felt the congealed silver loosen, and with the second, begin to churn.
Lifeblood.
She’d seen it once. Confined to a vial deep within the town’s Dark Market, the silver liquid shimmered even in the darkness.She didn’t know how it was taken, didn’t know why. But she did know it was blasphemy.
If the lifeblood were removed, there would never be any coming back.
Her woven will within the incantation’s uttered words penetrated the body now, delving into the space once occupied by the departed soul, dragging the silvery substance with it. It called to the soul, urged it back from the Beyond. Feeding on the thick potion smeared on the man’s face and body, the whorls flared bright as starlight before absorbing into his skin, glimmering as it grew in strength, and drained Lux’s own. The final words:
“From untimely death, we bid you Rise.”
Lux opened her eyes and one at a time, removed her fingers from the man’s face. The grey skin flushed, again and again, molten waves of heat crashing and receding, only to crash once more. Until, finally, it didn’t depart. The bloom remained in his skin, soft and warm.
Lux always felt there was such beauty to be found in the greys and blues of death, but she’d yet to find a person who felt likewise. The blush of life was all that anyone desired. Luckily for this man, it was his to claim once more.
The muscles of the body’s neck released, and his head lolled to one side. Several heartbeats of Lux’s own and the one beneath started to beat as well; weak at first, but quickly rising in tempo, until it bounded with such vigor, Lux heard the echo within her ears.
And finally—the gasping breath of revival.
“Where am I?”
“Don’t move.” Lux stepped into his vision, and the man recoiled, eyes wide. “I’ll get your companion.”
She strode to the doorway, calling out, and was nearly toppled by the man in his haste to reach his partner. Falling to the table’sside, he sobbed heaving gulps into his chest. The resurrected man, in contrast, stayed silent. Lux might have wondered after it if it weren’t for how he held him: vice-like beneath blanched fingers.
She backed away. These moments brought her a twinge of relief, but it mingled too heavily with sorrow. Nose wrinkling, she spun from the reunion and out of the room.
In his haste, the man had scattered clothing across the scuffed wooden floor, so she scooped them up with a lengthy sigh. They weren’t high quality, she realized, taking in the patched trousers and frayed neckline. This family did not possess much.
The familiar stab of guilt met her insides, and the sensation continued to build as she passed the clothing to brown, work-worn hands shaking with gratitude. This gift of life wouldn’t be long-lasting, she was fairly sure, and it soured her stomach.
Ruptured insides, broken bones, gaping wounds, a sweeping infection—those were easily remedied once Death inevitably called. But if the vessel, if a person’s very makeup was irrevocably altered from birth,thatLux couldn’t change.
She had an inkling this one fell into the latter category. Lux could stave it off for a time, but his insides would fail again. They were never meant to last this long. Another few years history would be sure to repeat itself.
She only hoped his husband would be able to procure funds a second time. If not, his beloved was destined for a lumbering wagon ride across the bridge, and into the twisted forest beyond.
The dead were forever silent there.
Chapter three
She didn’t tell him.
She’d thought about it, but in the end, Lux held onto her silence. Her assumptions could be wrong, and the couple’s thirst for life hovered so evidently as they thanked her that it would have been enough to stave off anyone from shattering it.
Or so she told herself.
Hugging the black cloak tighter about her shoulders, she kept her head low as she walked the cobblestone streets. She’d fallen asleep shortly after bolting the door, barely possessing the energy it required to cleanse the table of the now very-much-alive body. Waking to a grey morning, she’d eyed her nearly finished list. She couldn’t put off visiting the Dark Market any longer. Especially if last evening’s happenings were an omen of what was to come.
Death always claimed in clusters.
