Another chill rattled my spine, and Keradoc draped his cloak over my shoulders, immediately chasing away the shivers. I wanted to refuse it, but it was so warm and soft, his body heat still clinging to the fur lining, the scent of sweet roses lingering.
“The remaining family members retreated into the Razorback Mountains,” he continued. “And there, they carved out a new home, a new life, a brutally bleak existence in an inhospitable land that would drive lesser men to their graves. And all the while, they sharpened their grief like swords, using it to drive them to become stronger, more vicious, more bloodthirsty than those who’d murdered their kin.”
“So they could avenge them?” I asked, completely captivated by the gruesome tale.
“That was the assumption, yes. But the retaliation never came. Now, all this time later, we know very little about them. We know they’re still there—generation after generation—still living their bleak existence. Through their own fae magicks, they learned how to domesticate some of the raven gryphons, among other deadly creatures. And while it’s said they rarely venture outside the boundaries of their mountainous home and the Hanging Lake where the gryphons dwell, it isalsosaid the most feral, most fearsome among them can be bought.”
His words were nearly a whisper now, an appropriately ghoulish end to a tale that bordered on urban legend. But I knew from the dark look in his eyes, from the severe line of his mouth that this story was one hundred percent true.
And all at once, Keradoc’s plan became clear.
“I see,” I said, a new chill seeping into my bones despite the warmth of his cloak. “And what’s the current market value on a merc army of pissed-off, vengeful fae?”
“They have a price, just as we do.”
“How much? A million? Ten? A billion?”
“They’re not interested in money, Haley. Only in something that’s eluded them for all these years—the one thing that for all their strength and cunning they’ve never been able to control or possess.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, his violet eyes boring into mine so deeply, I justknewwhat the price would be.
And I knew, with that same cold certainty, who was expected to pay it.
“Magick,” I whispered. “Not fae, but darker.Mymagick.”
Keradoc nodded solemnly.
“But… What for? You said it yourself—they’re feral. They can control those monstrous raven gryphons, for fuck’s sake. Why would my magick possibly interest them?”
“Four children were slaughtered that day in Amaranth City,” he said grimly. “The purest heirs of their bloodline. Their bodies were repaired by witch healers, and to this day they are kept in a state of suspended animation with intricate spells and rituals. They are physically alive, yet they do not age. Do not speak or move. And worse, they are soulless.”
Nausea spun through my gut as the realization dawned.
“Necromancy,” I whispered, the very word sending an icy tendril of dread down my spine. “You’re talking about necromancy.”
12
HALEY
But you have necromancers in your employ!” I said, desperate to find a way out of this. “You said as much the night of the feast. You don’t need me for that.”
“None of my necromancers are skilled enough to resurrect fae children felled by their own protectors.”
“But… why does the cause of death make a difference?”
“Gargoyle mythology is steeped in its own magick, Haley. When a protector breaks his bond and commits such a heinous act, it leaves behind a darkness that not even the strongest fae witches can overcome.”
“And you thinkIcan overcome it?”
“You haven’t evenbegunto taste your true power. To imagine your full potential.” Heat blazed in his eyes, and an answering ember sparked to life inside me. “So yes, I do think you can overcome it. But I—”
“Keradoc. Necromancy is…” I blew out a breath, turning away from his intense gaze. “Look, I’ve… I’ve dabbled, okay? But I’ve never actually brought a soul back from the Shadowlands. And I don’t even know how that would work with a fae, let alone a noble Midnight faechildcursed by some bad-gargoyle mojo. This is just… It’s beyond. It’s… No. It can’t be done.”
“But,” he repeated firmly, “if you’ll kindly let me finish, I would tell you that it doesn’thaveto be done. Even the possibility that itcouldbe accomplished would be enough to win their favor. If they merelybelievedyou could bring their loved ones back, we could use that as a bargaining chip to—”
“Great. Now you’re talking about manipulating them. People whose ancestors—whose ancestors’ children—were slaughtered inyourcity.”
“Before my time, I assure you.”
“That doesn’t matter! It’s wrong! God, this is so many completely fucked-up shades of wrong there isn’t even a word for it.”
