Page 109 of The Court of Secrets
Licia was, however, useful at helping us get Neoma’s unconscious body out of the castle through an underground tunnel only he knew about, but I didn’t trust his being there, and one glance from Morgana told me she didn’t either.
“How did you know?” I whispered as I climbed in.
“I know everything.” His eyes glittered danger as Morgana stepped in and took the seat next to him. I was stuck hugging Neoma’s sleeping body against my side.
I shook my head, then turned my attention to Morgana. “I’m sorry he has to come along.”
“It is fine.” Her stare told me not to divulge the plan to kill the necromancer. I wouldn’t dare.
Neoma’s body shifted downward as we gruelled to a start. “I can’t believe we kidnapped someone. I feel awful.”
“It’s not the worst thing you have done,” Licia stated, but Morgana shook her head.
“The guilt shows you have a good human heart, Winter. Unlike some.”
Licia sneered. “You enable her too much.”
“We don’t need your input, Licia.” I hissed his name. “Sit there quietly, or I’ll throw you out this carriage.”
“You can try.” He admired his nails, which were painted gold, and smiled thinly. “We had a deal, remember?”
Morgana tsked. “Enough. He’s coming whether we want him to or not, so let us ride in peace.”
I shrugged. “At least if we throw him out, I won’t have to look at him.”
He scowled, and I was glad I bothered him at least the littlest bit. The Sword was stowed away in the luggage compartment. For a moment, I worried he’d know through his foresight about the Sword and Dagger but then remembered something I’d read in Blaise’s library about the Objects of Kai being a blind spot for seers. While we rode, I thought about all the colorful ways I could kill Licia. We had the Dagger and Sword, so ending his life wouldn’t be the problem. There was no way I was going to trust him while we rose the necromancer back to our world. He glanced at Morgana who stared ahead, tight-lipped. She gripped her staff, and looking at it now, I felt sick knowing what I was doing to my brother and souls like him in the spirit realm.
I pulled back the curtain on the carriage and stared into the wintry oblivion as we pushed through a flurry of snowflakes. The sky darkened but never fully covered in blackness like it did in Magaelor. The snow always kept the horizon just visible enough.
We pulled up at the battleground. I held my breath as I looked out over the untouched blanket of snow. Underneath the pristine world of white were the bones and armor of those who’d sacrificed themselves for me to take back my throne—for Magaelor. Being back there brought tears to my eyes. Licia’s amused smile tugged when he saw them, and I wanted to punch him in the face for it. Morgana shot me a look, warning in her glare. It was as if she could sense what I was feeling. The glint in her eyes told me our anger for him was shared but it was not the right time to act on it.
“Let us prepare first. The ritual needs to be set up perfectly before the moon reaches its apex.”
Licia pushed down the handle, and a gust of icy wind flew inside. I hugged myself as I stepped out after him and jumped down. Snow crunched under my boots, sinking me in a few inches. We were going to kill the thing that had allowed me to come back to life at the same spot where I’d died. There was poetry there somewhere.
It was twilight, and the blue moon at its peak meant it was the perfect time to complete a ritual. Morgana had spent the last couple of hours preparing herbs and various bones and stones she’d brought with her into shapes found inside an old grimoire. I had paced the area three times, sprinkling sage and ash in a square around us from the pouches Morgana had given me. Licia shivered, moving back inside the carriage where Neoma was still lying on the chair, unconscious. Morgana had pulled a couple of extra fur coats over her.
Morgana jerked her head, motioning for me to go to her. Her voice lowered to a whisper. The howling winds coated our conversation for the most part, but I still didn’t trust him not to find a way to listen in.Wait, I mouthed. “Cast a spell to block anyone from listening.”
She nodded, pride shrouding her features. “Good thinking, Winter.”
I couldn’t help but smile. She cast the spell, both of us wincing as she used her staff. Now that I was aware of it, the magic felt more like a suction rather than a peaceful breeze. We were taking it, not being given it as I’d been led to believe. Everything about it felt unnatural.
“I will take care of Licia,” Morgana stated. “Once the necromancer has been brought back, I will go to him. The Sword and Dagger being a blind spot in his own sight should give you ample opportunity to strike the necromancer with it. You will only get once chance.” Warning laced her gaze. “He will be watching me, expecting me to go against him.”
I inhaled sharpy. “I can do this. I’ll take the Sword from the carriage once the necromancer’s back.”
She inhaled sharply, standing tall. She removed the spell shielding our voices from being overheard, then spoke. “It is time.”
The empty ritual ingredient pouches trembled under my grip. A shiver snaked along my spine. It wasn’t from the cold, which had already numbed parts of my body, but from the simple fact that I was about to bring back one of the most dangerous creatures to ever walk the earth. If I didn’t succeed in killing him, we would be responsible for bringing a plague upon our world.
Morgana forced her staff into the air, and Licia jumped out of the carriage. “Aserum, mortima. Mortise, elchante, ferum.” She chanted words in an ancient language I didn’t know. The moonlight with the snow illuminated the large area. Barely visible on the horizon were the snow-peaked mountains towering in the distance, lost in the layers of sky and cloud. Fields of white stretched as far as my eye could see, and we had left any shred of civilization behind an hour ago.
As she spoke the words, louder this time, the air around us thinned. Gusts of winds ripped through the area where I’d placed the ash and sage around, and the temperature dropped a few degrees. My toes were lost to freezing. Fortunately, my thick socks and hard-capped boots would save them from frostbite. I flexed my gloved fingers and sucked in a breath, dizzying myself as illusory wisps of spirits danced up through the snow, rising upward. Ghostly faces screeched as they disappeared into the sky. Morgana dug her staff into the ground and struggled to keep her grip on it as she spoke more incantations from the old grimoire, willing the energy to bond with the battlefield. The bones of those who’d died trembled and turned to powder as they shot above the ground, turning to dust in front of our eyes.
Licia’s golden eyes were alight as a figure formed. The pain of those who’d died for me echoed around us, forcing tears from the corners of my eyes. It took all I had not to cry out with them, to beg for their forgiveness.
The figure darkened with each shuddering moment. The energy thinned the air so much, I could hardly breath. Pressure banded around my head, causing a loud ringing in my ears. Pressing my hands against them, I stared at Morgana, tight-lipped. I stood close to the carriage, where the Sword was a simple grab away, the luggage compartment already unlatched. The air fogged in front of my face, as a breath tinkered from my lips and the necromancer formed. He howled, pain tearing through the energy field. It broke as he dropped to his knees, and the energy dissipated. The souls were gone, sucked into the magic that breathed life into him. He turned, his dark eyes finding ours. He was back and a man once again. His talons were gone, as were the scars and decay. He was tall and slim, with slicked black hair and a small mouth. His nose was pointed, the lack of empathy in his expression terrifying.
