Page 87 of Dead Wrong

“Not always.”

There was another question that stuck out as I mulled over the new information. “Was I the first? The first person you brought back, I mean.”

Bastien nodded, once again preoccupied with tracing the rim of his cup. “Did you want to hear about it?”

“Please.”

“The process isn’t as complicated as some might think it is. I mean, there’s a lot of prep work, like crafting the Verdant gem and being able to completely center yourself. But the actual reviving part is simple. All I have to do is find you, out there in the ether, and bring you back. Once your soul occupies your body again, I just give you a quick kick-start and that’s that.”

Ether. There was that word again. The line of the prophecy rang in my ears.

Son of the second, lost in the ether.

You have been beckoned, Death is your teacher.

“When you say ‘find me,’” I repeated. “What exactly does that look like?”

“I project my consciousness into the ether—the place where we pull magic from to create glamours and Veils. It’s the space between the living and the dead. Remember how I told you I thought it might have been too late by the time I got to your body? That’s because souls don’t typically linger in the ether that long. They’re drawn to other places, places of rest or retribution. But yours was easy to find. It was like you were waiting for me, and all it took was me pointing in the right direction for you to come back.”

Was it really that simple? Kudos to my incorporeal soul.

“Cirian told me a bit about the process of death for us Magi,” I said, piecing together the details. “He said that our magic returns to the Source, and that’s why mine is gone. That it already returned.”

Bastien nodded. “He’s right, mostly. As Magi, magic runs in our veins. When your heart stops beating, that magic retracts, gathering in the body to be released with your final breath. That magic gets absorbed back into the ether, but it doesn’t surprise me that the Acolyte believes it finds its way back to the Source. He’s a man of faith, after all.”

“You don’t believe in the Source?”

Bastien chuckles. “Do I believe there’s a source of magic? Sure. But it’s not some deity to be worshipped. It’s like the ancients worshipping the Sun. They saw how it brought life to their world, and they bowed down to it. Nowadays, we know it’s simply a resource, and we can choose whether or not we wish to utilize it. The Church has spent centuries building up the case for devotion to the Source, but it’s merely a façade behind which they hoard power. For who better to communicate the wishes of a god than those who sit closest to its feet?”

“And what of prophecy,” I asked before I could think better of it. “Where do you think that comes from, if not the Source?”

“Prophecy?” Bastien repeated, his eyes narrowing. “I’m afraid Granny never spoke of prophecies. Why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing,” I said, heat flooding my face as I shook my head. “Just something I heard in passing while at the Cradle. Please, forget I mentioned it.”

He eyed me for a moment longer before continuing, “Your memory problems, Death’s Touch, is theorized to be caused by prolonged exposure to the ether. I think that’s why yours is particularly severe. Your soul was there for nearly three days. I’ve never heard of one hanging around that long without being corrupted.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“Sort of,” Bastien replied. “If a person’s soul clings to the ether for long enough, they can manifest back into the physical world in a number of ways. They’ll possess someone’s body or the body of the recently deceased. Or they may appear as an apparition, visible to those here in the physical realm.”

“Ghosts,” I concluded.

“You could call them that, yes.”

“So, would I have started haunting people if you didn’t bring me back?”

Bastien shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. “You tell me.”

The thought of lingering in that place, numb to all that was going on around me, suddenly filled me with a dread that twisted my stomach into knots.

“That brings us to the true resurrection ritual,” said Bastien, drawing my attention back from the spiraling scenarios bouncing around my head. “Which should let me restore your magic. Once I locate it in the ether, I’ll extract it and then funnel it back to you. If everything goes well, you should regain all the power you once held.”

“And if it doesn’t go well?”

Bastien squirmed in his seat. “I don’t know. This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but all of this is theoretical for me, Tobias. I’m only going off the books I’ve read. I’ve never seen it performed in person.”

It certainly wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “I trust you,” I said, both for his sake and for mine. This was Bastien. I had no reason not to put my faith in him. “You’ll do great.”

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