Page 98 of Mistress of Bones
Dolls. Puppets. That was all her brother’s creations were. That was why they stood by, allowing life to pass them, why they attacked over and over again, and why her brother could speak through them with so much ease.
Their souls were gone, not reborn.
“By the Heart, what?” exclaimed Isile, awkwardly following her. “What do you mean by ‘necromancer’?”
She used another entrance onto the patio to reenter the house, then carefully made her way toward the back door into the small stables area. Apparently knowing better than to make a ruckus, Isile followed without making a sound.
“He kills people, then brings them back to life using their bones,” Azul said once they were by the outer door separating them from the street.
“Such a thing exists?” Isile asked, shocked.
Azul wished Isile could be shocked while helping her with the heavy door, instead of standing uselessly by her side. She managed to pull it open enough to nudge her shoulder in and push in earnest. A pair of hands helped push from the street side. Her shadow, she recognized with relief. He tipped his hat after she thanked him.
Isile slipped out after her. “What you say isn’t possible.”
“And yet,” she told him grimly, “you’re about to experience it.”
Two figures approached from the main entrance.
“Sister, I do not wish to harm you,” said the footman. He carried no weapons, but the man by his side held a sword.
Isile stepped back toward the door they had just opened, his gaze darting from the footman’s face to his companion’s sword to Azul’s shadow. “Surely there is no need for violence?”
In answer, Azul took out Nereida’s long dagger. By her side, Azul’s shadow covered her back, his rapier in hand.
“No serious harm,” the footman warned. His companion moved toward Azul.
His aim was obvious—with no vital parts available for him to hit, arms and legs were his only options—and Azul deflected his lunge with ease, then blocked his swinging punch. She scraped her dagger up his blade to the guard, then pushed it to the side. She grabbed his wrist with her free hand but found gloves instead of skin.
His body shifted. Her knee came up into his groin before he could grab her, forcing him to bend. She pressed her hand against his faceand watched his eyes bulge, his skin recede, his blade fall to the flagstone with a clatter before his body followed.
A new pair of arms went around her from behind, pinning her own arms to her sides. The footman. Azul struggled. By the house, Isile watched it all, wide-eyed and gulping like a fish. Ramming her booted heel into the footman’s foot earned a small break in his hold. She wrenched free and spun, but he held her wrist so she couldn’t touch his face. His other fist delivered a heavy blow into her side. She doubled over, grunting.
Then her shadow was there, digging his dagger into the footman’s neck.
“Not enough,” Azul bit out between needles of pain.
Her shadow kicked the footman’s knee, the crack like thunder in her ears, and the man buckled to the ground. Azul yanked her arm free and gave him a kick to the face.
“We must leave now.” She bent with a grimace to touch the footman’s forehead. Unlike the other bodies, it remained intact. A fresh corpse, she realized, her stomach turning. Maybe killed that very night.
She glanced at the looming house, which grew darker with each passing heartbeat. If she were to visit the servants’ quarters, how many other living corpses would she find hiding away from her and the emissary? Her brother had suspected them to be the cause of Zenjiel’s death from the start and had prepared accordingly.
This game, Virel Enjul and Sergado de Gracia had played with each other, with Azul none the wiser.
How smart she had felt sneaking around, so focused on Isadora she had missed how everyone around her was using her as card stock for their games. How shameful to see it so clearly now.
Straightening, she sheathed her dagger and began to walk away.
Azul’s shadow fell into step by her side, and Isile recovered enough to follow them.
“You allowed me to slip away earlier,” Azul said.
“Me?” asked Isile.
The shadow nodded.
“How did you know to return here?”
