Page 17 of Boy of Chaotic Making

“What my dear wife is dancing around,” the prince said, “is that we wish to add Owein’s abilities to the family line.”

Merritt stiffened like someone had taken an iron fence post and shoved it right up his backside. “P-Pardon?”

“He is common, yes,” Lady Helen explained, “but where magic is concerned, such things can be overlooked.”

What do they mean?Owein asked.

Merritt could barely process the communion. His pulse had doubled in speed. “You want to ... but he’s adog. It isn’t possible.”

“That is where I come in,” Blightree interjected. “My family line is also well cultivated; I have strength in a number of spells, including the one I believe was used on your uncle.”

Merritt shook his head, not understanding.

“What we’re offering”—Blightree glanced at the Leiningens to ensure it was appropriate for him to continue—“is a human body for Owein.”

Chapter 7

March 1, 1847, London, England

Merritt’s ears were ringing. Or was that some sort of bizarre enchantment in the room? He only vaguely picked up Owein’s attention swiveling from his bowl to the company.

“I could move his spirit to a new vessel,” the necromancer explained, moving his hands in undefined loops as he spoke. “In exchange, he would sign a marriage contract with Prince Friedrich’s youngest daughter, Lady Cora.”

Owein came over, rose onto his back legs, and placed his paws on the edge of the table.What?

At the same time, Merritt stuttered, “P-Pardon?”

“It’s possible,” Blightree explained slowly, turning fully in his chair to face Merritt and illustrating with his hands. “With a viable human vessel, that is. I can’t resurrect Owein Mansel’s body—only, perhaps, the very first necromancer would have such power. Even a body a day past wouldn’t work. A living body, yes, but there are ethics to be considered. But the right specimen at the right time, I have the spells necessary, both to keep it viable and to move Owein’s spirit when the time comes.”

Merritt tried to sort through the information but felt like he was hammering puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together. “I ... How? Who?”

“I don’t know. But with your agreement, and Owein’s”—he nodded to the dog—“we would begin searching.”

Owein’s dark eyes lifted to Merritt.A body? A human body? For me?He barked.

Merritt shook his head. “But ... if thisispossible ... why would his spirit be worth more than that of the deceased?” He glanced to Owein. “I don’t mean to devalue you, but”—his gaze switched back to Blightree—“isn’t this a little close to playing God? Moving around spirits to keep those with magic in their family line?” He gestured to the Leiningens but didn’t look at them. “Necromancers are healers, aren’t they? Why wouldn’t you just heal the sick or the injured instead of waiting for them to pass so you can use the body for a more suitable spirit?”

Owein’s ears drooped.But, Merritt—

I don’t mean anything by it,Merritt insisted telepathically.Would it feel fine with your conscience to take the life of another kid just so you can have ten fingers and a larynx?

Owein lowered his head and shook it almost imperceptibly.

Lady Helen interjected, “Of course all of that would be taken into consideration, right, William?”

Blightree nodded. “I’ve discussed it with Her Majesty directly, and we would sign a contract with Owein, ensuring everything was acceptable for all parties.”

“Including”—Merritt cleared his throat, shaking off communion effects—“the deceased and his family?”

“Of course.” Blightree spoke with measured grace. “However, such a thing wouldn’t be possible at this time, as we wouldn’t know who the deceased and his family would be.”

“And the party who signs it would be me,” Merritt pressed. “I’m legally Owein’s guardian.”

There seemed no end to Blightree’s patience. Still, he said, “Legal guardianship of a canine is not—”

“It is, and I brought the paperwork to prove it.” Merritt’s tone had taken on a slight edge. He tried to dull it; if Blightree could remain calm, so could he. “And we both know he’s more than just a canine.” Shaking his head, he glanced at Owein. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to speak for you as though you’re not here.”

Owein huffed.I haven’t been able to speak for myself for centuries.

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