Page 18 of Necromancers Don't Raise

I blinked at the screen as it went suddenly blank with a pop and a blue spark of lightning that came up out of the television. It had exploded. A buzzing filled my ears, so I barely heard Bones say, “Master, I believe we’ll have to get a new one.”

Mercury was standing. So was I now that I thought about it. I’d burned to death? Callie and Bree…

“They didn’t make it.” My heart emptied of all light and hope and filled up with barbs and slithering snakes instead. I couldn’t breathe. But it didn’t matter because I could survive not breathing. My chest ached so much. I couldn’t bear it.

But my nose was cut off along with my fingers. I looked down at my fingers, still short, particularly on the left hand where my last fingers had been cut off into the hand. Did the ceiling chop them off?

Mercury paced away from me, a sleek silver rectangle at his ear, the phone a model that wasn’t on the market yet. He must know people, and not just the magical ones. I’d burned to death, crushed by a roof chasing a cat? My mother must be furious. It was like that time in Croatia when I’d given my priceless charm bracelet to the girl. I could be so stupid sometimes.

Mercury’s murmur on his phone was interrupted by a, “Bones, catch her!” And then everything went black.

Chapter

Six

“Miss Nova, you’re awake! It’s been two days, and from what I understand, the living shouldn’t sleep for so long unless they’re in a coma. Do you remember me?”

“Two days?” I sat up and then gasped when a white rat leapt off my chest and off the bed, disappearing under the armoire. I grabbed Bones’s wrist, so I didn’t fall over again. “What happened?”

He frowned while he pondered on such a large question. “You mean since you made the master chicken? You don’t remember me at all?” He looked so sad about that.

I forced a smile, but the video had come back vividly, along with consciousness. Callie and Bree hadn’t made it, and I’d been crushed and burned to death. I patted his hand. “Of course I remember you, Bones. I had to rest so I can regrow my fingers, but I’m sure I’ll sleep less once I’m fully regenerated.” I looked down, and there were my sad stubs, almost entirely regrown except that the nails were still misshapen and warped. So ugly, like the rest of me. I focused on what he had on a tray, which was oatmeal and toast.

“Master showed me exactly how I should make the cereal for maximum health,” he said, beaming at me. Had Mercury actually spent his own time teaching Bones how to make oatmeal palatable while I’d been unconscious? So much for proving myself a necessary part of Bones’ development. Still, it was very kind of Mercury to take care of the living girl he was stuck with because he still considered me one of his undead.

I didn’t feel hungry, not when I was so sick about Callie and Bree, but I needed the energy to handle what was bound to be a very difficult week. Year. Life.

I sniffed and then took a big bite of the cereal. It was miraculously warm, fluffy, and sweet. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it was rich, hearty, and made me feel like maybe I could face the world again. After I scraped the bottom of the bowl, Bones went off happily with the tray.

I took a deep breath and then got out of bed. I froze when I realized that I was wearing a black silk robe instead of the armored things. I peeked under the robe and was still in the holograph underwear and velvet moon bra. Did I want to ask Mercury how I’d gotten undressed? He could probably transform the goblin’s armored gear into the robe with a snap of his fingers, or have one of his shadowy figures do it while he talked on his phone, taking care of business.

What business did a dark sorcerer do with that kind of phone? Maybe he had an actual business that I could help with. That would be nice.

I sighed because I didn’t really care about employment or anything else with my friends’ deaths weighing on me. I went to the bathroom, flinching at my reflection in the mirror. Didn’t I put a towel over that? My head had a fine white sheen on top of it. I leaned close to peer at the pale stubble growing out of my scalp. White. I was going to have pure white hair, like Mercury’s white rat, that had been sleeping on my chest for two days.

I stood there, drowning in depression, mixing with frustration, because that’s just what I needed, white hair to go with the rest of me, and the company of rats. I shook my head, draped a black towel over the glass, washed up, and then stared at the phone on the sink counter. I’d left it in a pile of ridiculously impractical underwear. Had Mercury put it there? I could call someone, but Mercury had the train feed for me to look at already. Did I care? It was clearly a freak accident. Strange that my fingers had been chopped off so cleanly, but stranger things had happened. Like me coming back from the dead and growing white hair. At least my parents had closure. Was anything still on my list of things-to-do? I should get a job, a bank account, and an ID. For some reason, I felt like going back to bed and sleeping for another two days. Or years.

Bree and Callie had died with me.

I shook myself and straightened my spine. They were gone, but I wasn’t. So I needed to appreciate what I had, like I’d had to appreciate my wealth and beauty when I was faced with poverty and pain. I couldn’t fix everything, or anything it felt like, but if I started small, I could move forward until I made a difference, in my own life and in the lives of others. Even if I wanted to sit down in a puddle of self-pity and misery, I had a life to live. Callie and Bree didn’t have even that.

I left my room and turned to the shadow. “Could you take me to Mercury?”

The shadow spread out, blocking everything except the doorway to the tower.

“He’s in his laboratory? Is it all right if I go there?”

The shadow didn’t answer, but there was only one option.

“Thank you,” I said, and started up the stairs. Physically, I felt a hundred percent, but emotionally, I was dragging a heavy weight as I climbed. The bird paintings were almost startlingly beautiful, mystical color, with atmosphere in the cracked oilshowing a rich patina of age. I stopped and studied the one with a diagram of bird bone structure, the skeleton perched on the back of a chair. Hadn’t that chair been in Mercury’s laboratory?

When I got to the top, I raised my hand to knock, but the door swung open on its own. Mercury was at his desk, going through papers and writing dark burning sigils in the air as he went.

He looked like a dark sorcerer, unfathomable power at his fingertips as he manipulated matter and soul with precision and grace. I shuffled in, feeling like a wreck in my black silk bathrobe. Did he see my weird holograph underwear? How embarrassing to be seen not looking like the world’s most beautiful woman by a man I was coming to have a serious crush on.

“Thank you for the oatmeal,” I said, sounding like death and depression. What was with me? I should be happy to know that there was no murderer, just bad luck, but I wasn’t. I’d hoped that my friends were all right, that I was the only target, but who knows how many people died in the fire? And I was the one who survived? Why me and not someone else who had a home and family that would accept them no matter what they looked like or whether or not they were undead?

He glanced up from his work then gestured the runes away as he stood, looking quite formal and uncomfortable. “It was for me as much as for you.”

---