AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What if she went where there were no bones?” Eli’s tone scared me. I knew that one. It was mine, the one I had when I was about to embark on a terrible plan. “Would she heal?”
“If there was no venom left in her,” Beatrice said mildly.
“How?”
I drew in a sharp breath because I knew this answer, felt the inevitability of it before she parted her lips and said, “Well, I would remove it, of course.” She stared at me as she asked, “Do I have your consent to remove the venom from Geneviève?”
“It’s that or death?”
“Yes. Or this suspended state, summoning the bones of the dead to rebuild them, callingdraugrto her until she expires.” Beatrice met my gaze. “What will it be?”
Not this.I couldn’t answer. Whatever was happening to me, I couldn’t reply with my magic—or she was ignoring me. I couldn’t tell.
She glanced at Eli.
“I don’t know if you’d choose this or death,” he said quietly. “I know you would not like to revive after death.” He glanced at Beatrice. “This won’t—”
“I am removing the venom, not adding to it,” she said in a voice that wouldn’t be out of place in a classroom.
“Save her,” he said. “You have my consent.”
Beatrice leaned closer, and in my paralysis, I could not pull away. I was helpless as something older than Shakespeare drove teeth into my arm, right over the injection. I felt her magic drawing the venom, separating it from blood and organ, calling it to her. My gums clenched. My stomach and kidneys did. My lungs. The places the venom had been already processed wanted to obey her summons, but in those cases, some venom was already absorbed.
Beatrice was a witch and adraugr.Like me. I had more questions than before, but I also had what I thought was an answer. She was the closest thing to what I was that I’d ever heard of. How long had she lived as the only one like her? Were there other witches that were again-walkers?
I couldn’t ask, but from the way she smiled at me with my blood on her lips, I had suspicions that she knew my questions.
“Rest,” she whispered as she stood and accepted a tissue Eli extended.
“In time she will wake and move, but until then, she’ll summon the dead. They’ll tear down the walls to reach her.” Beatrice brushed my hair back. “You will live, Geneviève. Not exactly as before, but not dead. Not whollydraugr.”
Then she motioned to the doorway. “May I escort you to the door?”
“To . . .?” Eli asked.
“Elphame,” Beatrice said quietly. “There is no other place without bones in the soil. I know who you are. I know where you take her. . . and the cost you will pay for doing so. I have heard whispers, Son of Stonecroft.”
What cost? Beatrice, answer me. Stop this!
Beatrice only met my eyes and smiled, and I knew then that she’d heard me—and that she was ignoring me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I wokein a room with only two walls. In front of me—and likely behind me—was a meadow. I heard birds, a waterfall, trees dancing in the wind. That sound, more than the rest, was one I missed. The music of wind through nature was one of the things that was lacking in New Orleans. Rain fell. River rolled. Birds sang. Those were as present in the city as in the country, but the city didn’t give me the rustling of thousands of leaves as if they were instruments that the wind had called to song.
“Can you stand? Speak? Sit?” Eli’s voice came from my left.
I turned my head toward him. “What have you done?”
“Brought you to safety.” He motioned around the room. “To myotherhome.”
My gaze slid over the walls; natural rock with trickling water to one side and what appeared to be tightly woven trees on the other. The roots extended into the living space and formed the frames of chairs, a table, and a lounging sofa. It was more magical than I’d expected, but it was as welcoming as Eli’s home in New Orleans. I felt peace here, but I felt like a part of me was missing.
I sent out a pulse of magic. I felt dizzy with how easily the energy flowed outward, but there were no gaps in the canvas. Nothing dead. My own essence wanted to follow the magic, see where it would lead, but I clung to my physical form. I was afraid to project. It was only a thing I’d done during my near-death.
“The bones of the dead aren’t here,” Eli said softly. He moved to sit next to me on the bed of soil where I was resting.
I was in soil, and it took no magic to know where it was from. I felthomethrough the dirt and rocks. I slid my fingers through it. “How?”
