Page 57 of Wizard of Most Wicked Ways

Owein blinked, or tried to—his body wouldn’t move. It felt ... heavy, like the needling sensation he got when he fell asleep on his arm. Heavy and distant.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Blightree responded. The version of him that was sitting up. The one lying down—the more opaque, solid one—didn’t move at all.

Owein gaped. “What ... How are you doing this?” He tried to swallow, but that, too, felt distant. Looking down, Owein sawhimselfjust below him. Saw himself, slumped over the side of the bed, his hand still clasped in Blightree’s. But then he spied another him, a translucent head and shoulders, jutting out of his slumped crown.

“Don’t panic,” Blightree murmured. “I’ve merely shifted you over a bit, so I can talk to you.”

“Shifted?” Owein glanced between them. Remembered what Mirren had said, about Blightree being half out of his body, half in. “You’ve pulled me out of my body?”

The spirit version jutting out of the necromancer’s body offered a small smile. “It’s much easier with a soul I’ve moved before. My magic is familiar with you. I couldn’t have done it with the others.”

Owein nodded, forcing himself to embrace the strangeness of the situation. Blightree wouldn’t hurt him. One by one, his nerves settled.

“Are you ...,” he began, then reconsidered. “I suppose it’s nonsensical to ask if you’re all right.”

Blightree frowned. “I’m not in pain. Not pain as we know it. But there’s a dead, deep ache I cannot describe.”

Owein’s spirit shifted closer, though, tethered to his body as it was, the movement strained. Looking down at himself, he flexed the handnot entwined with Blightree’s. Found he could do it, but with a delay. The hand felt thick, again, like he’d fallen asleep on it, and the skin had passed the needling sensation and gone straight to sleep.

Was that how it felt for Blightree, too?

“I can relay any messages you have,” Owein offered.

Blightree chuckled without humor. “What will I tell them? Silas is a maniac with too much power. I’ve never dealt with someone quite like him. I should have been more careful.” He sighed without any passage of air. “You think I am wise, Owein, but even an old man can be a fool.”

That meant Blightree had heard him, even asleep. “I’m sorry.”

Spirit Blightree shook his head. “Don’t be. And I’m not surprised Oliver didn’t manifest any magic; I’ve a brother who didn’t, either, despite my parents’, and their parents’, and their parents’ best efforts. Though I’m not sure what ‘serum’ you’re referring to.”

Owein didn’t explain; the serum and its science belonged to Hulda and the United States government, not to him. “I’m sure he had other good qualities,” Owein offered. “Magic isn’t everything.”

Blightree looked him up and down. “An interesting statement, from a young man riddled with it. What would you have done all these years without it?”

“Moved on,” he answered.

Blightree needed no explanation; he merely nodded.

Owein glanced down at himself once more. “What was he like? Oliver?”

Blightree considered for a moment. “He was a quiet boy. Very shy and withdrawn. Nervous. That is not to say he was a recluse. He was very bright. Musically talented.”

“That explains the weird calluses when I first came over.”

Blightree smiled, and a hint of the gesture flickered on his physical mouth as well. “Piano and violin. He had a great interest in mathematics. Music and math, they have similar qualities.”

Owein nodded. “What do you think he would have done, had he lived—”

“Owein.” Blightree leaned his spirit self forward. “Oliver Whittock is dead.”

Owein wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Oliver is dead,” Blightree repeated, softer. “It is only Owein now. I will not discredit your curiosity—it’s only natural to want to know. But I want you to liveyourlife, not Oliver’s. Do not let his passing inhibit you.”

Owein stared a moment, feeling his physical heart beat a little harder.

He hadn’t known how much he needed to hear that.

Distantly, he felt Blightree’s hand squeeze his own. “However,” the old man continued, “I am still happy to consider you my nephew, if you’ll allow it.”

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