AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My hand hung in the air between us.
“I need touch to share the memories.” My tight throat made the words hard.
We had been trapped in a push and pull from the start, afforded too few moments of peace. How could I have dreamt we had a future? But the hope in my chest was a starved thing, willing to cling to any sign.
Seeming to brace himself, his calloused fingers closed around my wrist, then slid down until they interlaced with mine.
As his mental walls crumbled, I held back from the emotions churning under the surface. If I felt his distrust and disgust, I would not be able to do what I had offered. I owed him this. Owed Alexei, whose final request had been for me to protect his friend.
Show him, I asked the magic and held nothing back.
His hand crushed mine. His chest heaved, and I knew silent tears stained his cheeks as they did mine.
It was easier to control this time, perhaps because the memory was fresher or simpler than my whole life. I knew when Kirill came. When the knife slid through Alexei’s throat. When I launched myself at my stepfather.
Dimitri released my hand, breaking the connection, when I entered the house for him. Perhaps he could not bear to watch me save him and the moment we had shared on the ground outside—or perhaps seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes was too strange.
“He recognized you. He forgave you.” A lantern outside reflected in the prince’s too-wide eyes as a whistle pierced the night. Dimitri did not seem to hear it. “Zakhar was indebted to Kirill. This was repayment. The cost of my revenge I would never have accepted. And they’re both dead. What happened to the bodies?”
“I don’t know… Perhaps someone brought them to the temples.” Though probably, they had been stripped of all valuables and dumped in the river. Nothing remained on Lowtown’s streets for long.
Dimitri leaned closer, the air between us vibrating. “What is this magic you have? How can I trust it?”
I hesitated. The magic was not something von Lemerch had forbidden me from sharing, because she had no idea I had it. Would he react with fear? Mariska had told me my kind of mages were also known as mind witches—the villains of any tale they featured in.
Truth, I reminded myself.And kindness, when I can afford it. Tomorrow would not change without me doing the same. I would jump off this cliff and hope he caught me.
“I can read emotions—and apparently share memories.”
“Another thing I should have noticed. Helia von Heskin is a matter manipulator.” It was not a question.
Someone whistled again. Dimitri sighed and stepped through the broken doorway. Before he could leave, a man built like a mountain pushed him back inside.
“The Spirits on the street—they’re not behaving like they should,” the bodyguard from the alley said, backing us further into the house.
“There’s been more since the fire… All the dead…” My voice broke. Alexei’s and Kirill’s bodies were far from alone in the Taliell that night.
“Let’s just walk past them,” Dimitri said, his voice controlled again. “Yahontov, you’ve been out of Tal too long.”
“I’ve walked the streets more than you. I tell you, they’re not normal.”
The familiar white light shone through the doorway, painting the world in shades of gray.
I slipped under Yahontov’s herding arms and peeked outside.
The street was bright despite the dark clouds hanging heavily above. There were more shapes than I could count, certainly more than the one or two you found drifting through most Lowtown streets at night. Still, I thought Dimitri right until the magic slipped my control.
Dark human shapes walked among the Spirits, seemingly untouched, but when the magic brushed against them, cold like stepping into an ice cellar wrapped around me. Cold like von Lemerch.
“They’re dead. Goddess, save us. They’re all dead,” I breathed, unable to move away.
Therumors were true. The dead were walking—and their Spirits were still inside their decaying bodies.
One broke open a door down the street. Spirits flowed inside, followed by screams cut off too soon.
It could be von Lemerch or Lumi—both their magic felt like cold death—one who had good cause to kill me, the other to kill the prince. Or this was something completely separate from us. Butwhydid not matter when animated corpses strode down your streets.
I had decided to stop running. To fight. But how did one fight death itself?
