Althea sagged in Luther’s arms as he caught her. She was breathing, but the shock had caused her to faint. Luther held her until Helena came over, lifted her from his arms, and smacked her across the face.
The loud slap echoed through the library, and everyone turned their stunned stares toward Helena.
“What?” she asked. “I’ve never fainted in my life, and I don’t trust damsels that do. She needs to snap out of it.”
“You can’t just slap her out of it,” Jowangshin protested. “Here, give her to me.”
Jo took Althea from Helena and laid her on the empty table as the others gathered around her. Emily and Jo made quick work of loosening her clothes, but they didn’t undress her. They unfastened the cuffs, the belt, the buttons, and the stays she wore under her shirt. Loosening the stays had the greatest effect, letting Althea’s chest rise and fall with greater volume.
Helena sighed. “So we have a weakling, fainting necromancer, who is an imperial agent, but didn’t know she was a necromancer?”
“Well, with the temple’s rites, the chance for her to encounter a spirit is small,” Emily said. “It’s possible she’s never encountered one.”
“And whoever is protecting her must have protected her from the truth,” Luther said. “Her imperial patron must have kept her from the tests they conduct for necromancy, knowing it would be a death sentence.”
“Who could do that?” Emily asked.
“Very few,” Luther said.
“I don’t like this,” Rhosyn said. She looked at Eira. “We don’t know who she is or who her patron is.”
“We have a good idea,” Luther said. “You said she's coming with us?”
“That is what I saw,” Eira said.
“It makes sense,” Luther said, watching Althea’s eyes blink open.
“What?” Althea asked.
“Welcome back,” Luther said.
“What makes sense?” Althea asked, shaking her head. She rubbed her temples, and Emily kept her from sitting up with a hand on her shoulder. Althea turned her eyes toward Criella, keeping them wide, but not fainting again. She kept her resolve despite the shudder that coursed through her. “That I’m an abomination?” Althea collapsed back to the table, not in a faint, but in despair. She wept, the tears coming from her eyes as if she were alive on her own pyre.
Luther produced his handkerchief and offered it to her. “I’ve been called worse.”
She ignored him, covering her face with her hands. “I should turn myself in and submit to my fate.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Luther said, calm in the face of her sorrow.
“What do you mean?” Helena asked, looking at Luther.
“Well, the only evidence we have that she’s a necromancer is that she can see and speak with Criella,” Luther said. Shock had prevented them from following everything to its natural conclusion. He had to spell it out for them. “If she turned herself in for necromancy, she couldn’t do it without exposing Criella and us.”
Jo and Rhosyn shared a silent expression of frustration.
“The duke would execute us,” Luther said. “Rather than try to fight us.”
“Could he do that?” Helena asked.
“Yes,” Luther, Jo, and Rhosyn answered together.
“Which is why I’d hoped to return Criella to her body in secret,” Luther said.
Althea sniffed. “You what?”
“That’s the journey we’re going on,” Luther said. “We’re investigating a site my father found, which we think is the Dark Lord’s tomb. I hoped to find resources there that might teach me how to restore her soul to her body. Spells that I might try to perform.”
Althea froze mid-sit-up, turning to look at Luther. “Is this another lie, or a joke?”
“No,” Luther said. “And your arrival is auspicious, especially given your arcana.”
Althea turned toward Eira. “You want me to go with them?”
“I told you what I saw. It has nothing to do with my desires,” Eira said.
“But to the Dark Lord’s tomb? Are you serious? He’s the reason the empire forbids necromancy,” Althea said, as if they needed reminding. “The empire won’t let another necromancer live because of the atrocities he committed.”
“And yet, here you are,” Luther said. He turned the conversation back to Althea. “Whoever your patron is, they have to know what you are. Yet, you live. How is that?”
Althea swallowed. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t?” Luther asked, narrowing his eyes. If she were under a geas or spell, he could respect her silence. If it were a misguided attempt to protect herself, he’d be less forgiving. “Or won’t?”
“I can’t,” Althea clarified. “My oaths bind me. It’d be treason to break them.”
Luther froze. The others appeared confused, but that was as good as a confession in his opinion. She might as well have told him that her patron was the emperor.
So what did that mean for Althea? Child or grandchild made little difference, but Luther suspected she was one of the emperor’s many children. One that he favored and wished to protect. Even if she’d been a cherished servant, the emperor wouldn’t have saved her from the pyre for necromancy.
It comforted him to know that the emperor shared in his sins and had similar motivations. If Luther defied imperial law, the temple, and even the gods for Criella’s sake, he could only imagine what he’d do to protect his children.
“You said before that you’re not part of the emperor’s union,” Luther said. “Are you free to marry?”
“Luther, no,” Rhosyn said, her tone firm as she circled the table to grab his arm. “Absolutely not! I refuse to unite myself with a necromancer.”
“Rhosyn,” Luther said, turning toward her. “I thought we agreed to restore Criella.”
“Yes,” Rhosyn said. “But healing Criella and uniting ourselves with a necromancer are two different things. I refuse to commit necromancy.”
“Be reasonable—” Luther’s protest died on his lips as Jo cut between them.
“I agree with Rhosyn, Luther,” Jowangshin said. “The gods above forbid necromancy, or that a necromancer should live.” Her eyes remained on Luther, not darting behind to where Althea cried.
Emily did her best to comfort Althea, but it was a lost cause. A hug and a handkerchief could only do so much. He couldn’t stave off Althea’s shock and sorrow at finding herself condemned to death and damnation by virtue of her nature.
“The temple forbids it,” Luther said, rekindling the argument. “Not the gods.”
“We’ve had this argument,” Jo said, frustration coming through in her tone.
“Yes, and I thought you were with me,” Luther said, letting his anger show. Both of them tensed, though neither made a move to fight the other. They were in the library, not a sparring ring.
“Restoring Criella isn’t the same as necromancy,” Helena said, enforcing peace between them. “We’ve discussed this to death, if you’ll forgive the pun.”
No one acknowledged Helena’s mastery of humor.
“Marrying Althea would be different,” Rhosyn said. “That’s not the answer. Even permitting her to live defies the law and common sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Luther said. “Magic is a tool, nothing more. It cannot be good or evil any more than a book, regardless of the knowledge it contains. You can’t believe that necromancy is evil just because—”
“The gods say that it is,” Jo argued.
“The temple says it is!” Luther snapped. “Not the gods! If the gods believe that necromancy, that any magic, is evil, then they shouldn’t gift it to us.”
“Don’t defy the temple!” Jo said, narrowing her eyes at Luther. He held her gaze, and their silent battle raged until she turned away, refusing to look at him.
“I do,” Luther said. “I defy the temple. If to do so is the same as defying the gods above, then let them strike me for my blasphemy and insolence.”
The room fell silent. No one moved, as if expecting a lightning bolt to consume him. Nothing happened, but the tension between Luther, Rhosyn, and Jowangshin was boiling.
“We’ve been over this,” Luther said, his voice tight in his throat. “Are you with me or not?”
“I am with you,” Jo said, tears in her eyes. “But I will not bind myself to a necromancer.”
“Nor will I,” Rhosyn said, as resolute as stone.
“Grah!” Luther threw his hands into the air in frustration, turning away. Helena consoled him, patting his back.
“It’s a moot point,” Althea said, curling into a ball on the table. “I’m not free to marry, not without my father’s permission, and he will not give it. Not to a lower noble.”
Luther let the wound to his pride slide from his shoulders, knowing the politics involved were above his domain. If Althea were the daughter of the emperor, then he’d arrange her marriage with a monarch, prince, or princess. Even Duke Beaudivere wasn’t high enough for consideration, despite the lady’s lack of known arcanum. The Le Fey union held only a small dominion over a fertile valley in the borderlands, far from the capital.
Still, as a necromancer, Althea’s prospects for marriage had gone from negligible to zero. Not even the prestige of imperial relations could elevate her to any union’s consideration, except to someone as crazy as Luther. Even then, if anyone outside the library learned of her arcanum, it wouldn’t matter. They’d execute her, as was the law.
“Fine,” Luther said. “I suppose it was a desperate hope, and I apologize for suggesting it. It was out of place amidst our conversation and devoid of charm or romance. I’m sorry.”
That comment mollified his spouses, who realized he was right. Luther was a far more romantic person than that. His suggestion to marry Althea for her powers stemmed from his love for Criella. Even Jo softened, releasing her fists and flattening her palms against her sides.
“He is normally much more charming,” Emily said, still trying to soothe Althea.
Everyone took a moment to collect themselves, relaxing and catching their breath. Their tumultuous moods didn’t impact Criella. Her peaceful expression remained unchanged as she watched them.
“Is your fight over?” Criella signed to Luther.
“Yes,” Luther signed back.
“Then we should leave,” Criella signed. “You’re wasting time here.”
She was right, and Luther knew she was eager to be reunited with her body, regardless of her stoicism. He deduced that the absence of a body was a peaceful experience. The glands and hormones that raged within him were absent in her, and she derived neither pain nor pleasure from her experiences. To her, everything was knowledge, and nothing was emotion. It reminded him of his father.
“We should—”
A knock at the door interrupted Luther, and everyone spun toward it.
“Hide,” Luther signed to Criella.
She nodded and dashed between the shelves, vanishing from sight as fast as a deer through the trees.
Luther opened the door, finding Wulfric on the other side.
“Forgive the interruption, my lord,” Wulfric said. “But there’s a messenger here to see you on urgent business.”
“Did he say who he was?” Luther asked.
“It’s one of the duke’s spouses, Sir Kaylon. He wouldn’t tell me what the business was. But he asked questions, as if trying to be informal with me,” Wulfric said disapprovingly.
Anyone who met Wulfric knew that informality was a greater sin to him than necromancy was to the temple.
“And?” Luther asked.
“He inquired whether we were hosting any guests,” Wulfric said. “I answered that you’ve offered hospitality to a few in my time here. He asked if any had arrived within the last week and how long they might expect to enjoy your hospitality.”
“So he’s not here for Emily,” Luther surmised. He looked behind him, where Althea’s frightened face told him what he needed to know. “Your father doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”
Althea swallowed, then lowered her eyes and shook her head. “He forbade me to leave home. I snuck away.”
“Hence your hurry,” Luther said. “How long do we have before the imperial guards come to our door?”
“They don’t know that I’m here,” Althea insisted. “They can’t.”
“Did you tell anyone at the posting house that you were an imperial agent?” Luther asked.
“Yes,” Althea said, not understanding the connection between the questions.
“Did you tell them where you were going?” Luther asked.
“No,” Althea said, determined.
“But you asked questions about me by name?” Luther asked. “These rumors you heard?”
Althea hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
Luther sighed. “Who is the messenger from, Wulfric? Is he here on his own, on behalf of the duke, or someone else?”
Wulfric straightened at the lack of playfulness in Luther’s voice. “Duke Beaudivere, Sir. He said he carried a message from the duke, and he needed to deliver it to you.”
“Did he give you a message to deliver to me?” Luther asked.
“No,” Wulfric answered. “He asked me to fetch you, despite my telling him you might have left on your journey.”
Luther shook his head. “The carriage is ready, yes?”
“Yes, sir,” Wulfric said. “Though I didn’t have them pull it around. I wasn’t certain how long you’d be with your guest in the library. Everything is ready for your departure and waiting for my signal at the stables.”
“That’s perfect,” Luther said. “We’ll leave from there. Tell the stables to have the carriage and Oakhoof ready to depart.”
Wulfric bowed. “Yes, sir.”
Luther closed the door. “Rhosyn?”
“Yes, I’ll handle the messenger,” Rhosyn said. She eyed Luther. “I’m sorry that we have to part ways so soon after an argument.”
“Me too,” Luther said. “I’d much prefer to do as I want without you challenging me.”
Rhosyn didn’t smile at his jest.
“Forgive me?” Luther asked.
“For defying the law?” Rhosyn asked. “I’m not a judge, my lord. For defying the gods? You’ll have to seek their forgiveness, not mine.”
“Oh, well, that’s easy. The temple tells me the gods forgive any sin with enough coin. They’re more lenient than you are,” Luther said. “But if buying you something pretty will help matters, spend some of the money in my personal accounts while I’m away.”
Rhosyn rolled her eyes, but kissed him before she left the library. It wasn’t the passionate kiss goodbye he’d hoped for, but a swift peck of her soft lips against his was better than nothing. Emily departed with her after hugging Helena and Jo goodbye. She curtsied to Luther and followed Rhosyn through the library door, which they closed behind them.
Luther checked behind him, looking at Jo and the others.
Jo frowned. “You’re not amusing anyone, disparaging the temple that way.”
“He has a point, though,” Helena said, rubbing her neck. “They accept gold for pardons from the gods.”
Eira said nothing but rubbed Luther’s back to console him.
“They use that money to put good into the world. They sow seeds and raise crops for the poor,” Jo said. “It’s balancing the evil of sins, not collecting personal wealth.”
“Is that why temples are so barren of gold and silver?” Luther asked, keeping his tone innocent despite the glare coming at him from Jo.
“Are we going then?” Jo asked, changing the subject. “Are you coming with us?” she asked Althea. “If you’re lucky, perhaps my husband will dedicate his time to mocking your life’s work.”
“Jo,” Helena said, trying to soothe her.
Althea glanced toward the library doors, where the duke’s messenger had been asking about her. She looked at Luther. Her choices weren’t numerous. Her expression told Luther that walking through the doors rivaled descending into hell. She didn’t want to face the messenger or whoever sent him.
“If I come with you, do you think we might find answers to cure me of necromancy in this tomb you seek?” Althea asked.
Luther raised both eyebrows. He’d never heard of anyone being able to ‘cure’ themselves of their arcanum, nor change their arcanum once they discovered it. However, the passive ability to see and hear the dead might disconcert anyone. Her mind obviously turned toward shutting them out, to keep herself sane. Luther wondered if she had met spirits she didn’t realize were spirits. Unburned who didn’t know they were dead. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.
“I promise to use what we find to help you control your arcanum,” Luther said. “It is possible that we could shut spirits out so that you do not see and hear them without your magic, but I cannot guarantee anything.”
“Hope is better than despair,” Althea said. She refastened the many strings and buttons of her outfit as she turned away from Luther. She slid off the table when she finished.
“In return, may I ask that you help me restore Criella?” Luther asked.
Althea hesitated. “I don’t know how I might help, but yes. In exchange for a cure? I’ll do anything.”
Luther offered her his hand to shake, and she shook it.
“I am ready,” Althea said, looking at the others.
Luther checked the others’ expressions. “You can stay here if you wish,” Luther said, looking at Jo.
“No,” Jo said. “I’m coming with you. If nothing else, I need to keep you from going too far, and Helena is useless at saying no to you.”
Helena grimaced. “Hey! I disagree with Luther sometimes.”
“No, you don’t,” Jo said, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. “Now come on, everything’s packed, correct?”
“Yes,” Luther said. “Though we might have to change plans. I hoped to ride from here to the outpost at the base of the mountains, but we might have to portal there to avoid detection.”
“Can you do it?” Jo asked.
“Yes, but it will be a larger drain on our magic than I’d hoped to begin our journey with,” Luther said, frowning. He didn’t see a way around it. If others were searching for Althea, or if the messenger had allies nearby, their best bet for secrecy was to portal. He’d practiced with Criella’s conjuration magic enough to produce a large-enough portal, but the longer it stayed open, the more power it took from him. They’d need to be quick, or they’d risk draining their magic at the edge of the lethal mountain territory.
“Your father is set to meet us at the outpost, correct?” Jo asked Helena.
Helena nodded. “He’ll be there. He and his men have scouted the path ahead. They’ll have a detailed report waiting for us.”
“They’ve sent a few,” Luther said, stroking his chin. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Come with me,” Eira said. “I know the way to go.”
Luther thought her wording was strange, but he followed her through the bookshelves, bringing Criella with them as they left the library through a locked passage. The route Eira led them through was not the most direct, but it was the route Luther would take if he thought someone was watching the manor.
He glanced at Eira. “Have you seen someone watching the manor?”
Eira grinned. “No, but I saw us take this route. Better safe than sorry, no?”
Luther agreed. He could have teleported them outside, but it was better to preserve power. Whatever the reason, he didn’t question it. He trusted Eira and her arcanum. “Thank you,” he said. “For not siding against me earlier when we were arguing.”
Eira smiled, keeping her expression soft and kind toward Luther. “I love Criella, too. We all do, but you need someone to pull you back sometimes and tell you no. Listen to Jo and Helena on your journey. Don’t disregard their advice.”
“Is that your advice as a seer?” Luther asked.
“That’s my advice as your wife,” Eira said. “Come home safe and sound. I’m worried that if something happens to you, the duke will try to add us to his union.”
Luther furrowed his brow. “He hasn’t suggested that, has he?”
“Not with you in the bargain,” Eira said.
Luther laughed.
“What’s funny?” Althea asked. “He doesn’t like you?”
“It’s less to do with Luther and more to do with his lineage,” Helena said, explaining it with a sensitivity her bulky muscles didn’t suggest she possessed. “But no, after Luther’s display at the challenge with the Feothe clan, the nobles fear him, especially the duke and his spouses.”
Althea’s mouth formed a silent O in understanding, and she let the matter drop as they emerged near the stables.
“I’ll say goodbye here,” Eira said, stopping Luther with her hand on his chest. “Safe travels, husband. Keep your sword handy, but don’t forget your arcana. And keep in touch with Rhosyn. I’ll have her check in within an hour. As soon as we handle this messenger.”
Luther nodded his approval. “Stay safe and watch over the valley while I’m gone. If there’s any trouble, I can return in a blink.”
Eira kissed him. Hers was the passionate farewell kiss he had hoped to receive. She gripped his upper arms as she kissed him, letting her tongue speak for her. Then she withdrew and gave Helena and Jowangshin the same farewell. One that Rhosyn hadn’t had time to give.
“Be safe,” Helena said, patting Eira on the shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Eira said, kissing Helena a second time and patting her hip. “Go and hurry. We’ll be waiting for you when you return.”
Luther knew that Eira and Rhosyn would be fine. He and the others were the ones facing danger in the mountains. Still, he didn’t want to leave them on their own. He regretted not having a solicitor he could trust enough to leave in charge. Rhosyn was prepared and more than savvy regarding the business of the valley. She’d do well, and Eira and Emily would support her.
Luther led the way to the waiting wagon. He took the driver’s seat, with Helena sitting beside him. Jowangshin climbed inside, riding in the back with their supplies. Oakhoof waited beside the wagon, wearing his bridle and saddle. He stood ready as Althea climbed onto him, bobbing his head in annoyance at the rush.
The stable hands moved quickly and didn’t ask questions as Luther gestured to the space behind the stables. He released his breath, emptying himself, and achieving peace in his mind as he melded his spirit with Criella’s. He cast the portal spell. The world blurred where he pointed, and a shimmering gateway opened. He drove the horses forward, looking behind him to see that Eira had gone back into the house.
Althea followed the wagon through the portal, and it closed behind her and Oakhoof as Luther released the spell.
He took a deep breath and faced forward. The sudden change in wind, light, and surroundings was always disorienting. Still, he grimaced at what met them.
Shouts of spells and the ringing of steel on steel, the wet thunks of steel on flesh, and the smell of cinders burned his nose. The outpost was under attack.