Page 4 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

Whatever sort of circle it is, it's not one that affects Chloe, and besides a slight shiver, she can step across it without any problem.

Maison and Ambra avoid it, obviously so. Maison’s leaning heavily on a cane, his knee still in a bulky brace, and Chloe catches Delina glancing down at his leg whenever he shifts.

Everyone around her remains silent, watching her, so Chloe shakes out her arms, tossing the group a wide smile.

“This isn’t that bad!” she says, as cheery as she can make it, earning only a few wan smiles in return. “Seriously, guys, I’ll be okay.”

If she says it enough, maybe others will believe her.

“You can absolutely back out,” the other Necromancer, Lyra, says kindly, almost suffocatingly.

“I’m cool!” Chloe says, as if speaking louder will convince them all. “I’ve thought about this a lot!”

She’s had to say it so many times these last few days.

So she glances out at the group, shifting from foot to foot. At the new faces she just recently met and the ones she’s known for years, and it sits oddly in her stomach.

“We should just do this,” she says, “get this over with, make everyone feel less anxious, get rid of the tension.”

Finally, Delina cracks an actual smile, and Chloe can almost always count on her to understand her want to break all the awkwardness. “Yeah, sure,” she says, and they all ignore the pure venom glare that Gurlien shoots her.

Chloe widens her stance, as if that’ll help, and Lyra coughs politely.

“Sitting down will help,” she says, as if Chloe’s embarrassing herself. “You don’t want to hurt yourself when you fall over.”

Right.

Almost scrambling, Chloe sits cross legged in the middle of the circle, and even with all the ice scraped away, the chill of the concrete almost burns through the seat of her pants.

Alette had warned her that coming back was brilliantly painful. Maison had warned her it was disorienting, that the entire world is unreal afterwards.

All of these things Chloe can deal with.

In the discussion, they had determined that Alette would be the best person to actually strike the killing blow. She’s precise, she’s powerful, and she’s not affected by all the demon protections necessary for the high level of Necromancy.

And she already doesn’t get along with Gurlien, so she doesn’t mind royally pissing him off.

As it is, Alette steps forward, her dark braid long and heavier looking than Chloe thinks is strictly comfortable, and another shiver winds its way up her arms when she crosses the circle. The winter breeze has torn some hair from Alette’s braid, leaving her far less put together than Chloe had seen before.

Chloe’s under no pretense that she definitely looks less than polished. Her own black hair is shoved under a baseball cap, and her cheeks always flush bright under this sort of cold, chapping.

“We had Delina practice with some squirrels in here,” Lyra says, as Alette stares down at Chloe through her gold wire rimmed glasses. “So the circle won’t prevent anything.”

Chloe just smiles sunnily at Alette, whose face settles into a frown.

“You’re sure about this?” Alette asks, her voice hushed, as if she’s giving Chloe an out that others won’t hear. “You’re crossing over something to a permanent change.”

“That’s the idea,” Chloe replies, then gives her two thumbs up.

Finally, she gets a twitch of the lips from Alette, some sort of amusement, before magic swirls into her hands, sudden and wild, and—

2

There is just dark.

And terror.

Striking solitude, clawing down Chloe’s neck, choking her, gagging down her throat. Filling her lungs, pooling in her stomach, spiking through her limbs.

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