Page 67 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
“You vowed never to threaten the Nicnevin, dumbass,” Maeve says, popping up beside me.
Cressida can’t see her, but even if she could, she’s too busy choking on her own tongue. It’s the first time I’ve seen the vow of allegiance in action, and I didn’t expect this. I shouldn’t really be as surprised as I am. In many ways, it’s no different from a fae bargain.
“Fucking. Vow,” she finally says, straightening and brushing away the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes with an impatient arm before beginning again. “If you choose to ignore the sight, and the hundreds of spirits surrounding you, my court will perish.”
“Surely not all necromancers go insane?” Annis the creepy kikimora is my only point of reference, but Drystan has the sight, and he’s not mad.
“No.” Cressida admits. “But the lure of the dead is strong. Where most people see an empty room, you will see a hundred souls. Where the living will shun you, the dead will do anything you ask. Perhaps, right now, they’re too scared of the Hunt tostart petitioning you to restore them, but there are always those desperate enough to try it. Once you give in and grant one sad, lonely soul an audience, they’ll all want one.”
The queen turns away, running her finger over the line of text on an old stone that’s nearly completely covered in moss.
“After Samhain, when they’ve been ushered to the Otherworld, you will get a short reprieve,” she says. “But as the year goes on, more and more of them will seek you out. Your relationships with the living will suffer for it.”
“Surely I can just ask them to leave me alone?” I venture.
Cressida shoots me a look. “That might work with your grandmothers, but it will take more effort with determined spirits. Danu sent the three females she knew wouldn’t take advantage of you to act as your guides. There are thousands of others whose intentions aren’t so pure.”
My gut sinks as I eye the ghosts in the room with us. “Don’t trust the dead. Got it.”
“Even those you knew in life,” the autumn queen pushes. “Ask my nephew what he wants most now. I bet you it’s my head on a platter. Two months ago, he was so loyal to me that he went into a battle he knew we couldn’t win on my orders without complaining.”
“I don’t want her dead.” The ghost steps forward, glaring at me. “But she needs to pay. My warriors were slaughtered to recapture a fort she sacrificed not ten days later.”
“He’s not happy.” I tug my sleeve as I admit it. “But do you expect him to be?”
“No.” She defers to my point with a subtle nod of her head. “But that’s why I chose him for this. You will need to learn to order uncooperative spirits around. If he’s as uncooperative in death as he was in life, he’s the perfect candidate.”
“But… don’t I need his name to command him to do anything?”
Cressida shakes her head. “Names are the easiest way to call a specific spirit from the Otherworld, yes. His spirit is already here, and as such, he is subject to your power. Order him to do something.”
It won’t be that simple. She’s as good as told me so. So I reach for Danu before I do what she says.
“Walk over there.” The command is stronger than I thought it would be, but the spirit just quirks one eyebrow at me.
“Make me.”
I’m trying. I think back, but squeeze my eyes shut instead. “Okay. That was a failure.”
“Really?” Cressida raises both brows, every inch as sarcastic and unhelpful as her nephew.
I really hate the family resemblance. “A little more help wouldn’t go amiss.”
Behind me, Drystan settles against the doorway, and I shoot a glare back at him too. Surely, as Lord of the Wild Hunt, he’s seen Annis use her powers.
“You’re probably focusing too much on the spirit.” Cressida taps her fingers against her breastbone. “Your power comes from here. Surely your seelie gift has taught you as much.”
I bite my lip as I consider it. When I charm people, I draw my magic up and force it into my voice, affecting myself rather than the person I’m charming.
Okay. Focusing on the bond to Danu, I fix my eyes on the ghost and try again.
“Bow.”
The most incremental nod of his head is all I manage to pull from him. Cressida looks beyond me, and I realise she’s watching Drystan to figure out if I’m making any progress whatsoever.
“He nodded,” I say, grinding my teeth together. “That’s progress, right?”
The armoured male throws his head back and laughs. “Oh yes, defeat the Fomorians by getting the spirits of the dead to nod at them. Good luck with that.”
