Page 8 of What Blooms from Death

Limboedwas the term my mentor, Orin, used. The constraints of Phantom’s physical body had been broken, his spirit had risen to dominance and headed for the Underworld…but that spirit had been stopped in its tracks by my frantic spell. Stopped, and imbued with enough of my strange magic that he was now anchored to me and, in turn, to the world I inhabited.

The same magic had also tied us together in other ways, allowing us to communicate with perfect clarity. For better or worse.

(You weren’t gone very long,)came his voice, echoing softly through my mind. (Are you sure you have a clear vision of your next step?)

“Clear enough.”

He sneezed. (Hasty. Impetuous. As per usual.)

Occasionally, I missed the silence between us.

I flashed him a crooked grin. “If you think I’ve been impetuous thus far, youreallyaren’t going to like the next part of my plan,” I warned, patting him on the head. My hand went through him, coming away covered in a viscous, shadowy substance. It was a matter of habit, petting him; even after three years, I still missed running my fingers through his solid fur.

He bared his teeth—his displeasure obvious—but settled back on his haunches, expectantly. (Well? What is your plan?)

“I’m going to walk straight through the front door.”

(Brilliant,)came the reply, dripping with obvious sarcasm despite the way his thought-speech tended to soften and blur his tone.

I was used to such sarcasm from him, so I continued without commenting on it: “Luckily for us, Lord Roderic lives alone, save for his servants. We only need to get them to open the door. Then, you’ll make yourself as horrifying as possible to create a diversion and chase them away, and once they’ve fled, I’ll slipin and take care of the rest. I have the route to the atrium memorized. It’s an easy path. I can be quick.”

(Your optimism is exhausting.)

“Some might argue that optimism is a virtuous trait in a person.”

(Some might argue that pessimists live longer.)

“Why are you so worried? You’re already practically dead.”

(Yes, butyou’renot.)

“This is going to work,” I insisted.

Phantom snorted, unconvinced.

“Also? Lord Roderic is a monster, if it helps you focus on becoming a distracting monster yourself. He’s King Aleksander’s puppet, responsible for plenty of unjust arrests and disappearances.”

I bristled as Aleksander’s name left my lips, fighting off a wave of nausea along with a rush of white-hot fury. Even with no audience save for my dog, I refused to let my hatred for the Light King show. He wouldn’t control my emotions; to allow such a thing felt too much like bowing to him.

Something I would never fucking do, regardless of how many admirers and supporters he collected.

When I was finished carrying out my full plans,hewould be the one bowing tome. Or groveling, more like, while begging for mercy I wouldn’t give.

I leaned against the wall of the run-down, unused shed we’d taken refuge in, forcing myself to inhale several calming breaths. To hang on to myexhausting optimismlike I always did, even when I felt like I was cracking apart from the inside out.

(You should rest for now,) Phantom urged, rising to his feet with an uncertain wag of his feathered tail. (You still look dizzy.)

I didn’t argue. But there were too many people passing too close to the shed for comfort, so first, we moved to a lessconspicuous location, tucking ourselves away in the small forest behind Lord Roderic’s estate.

I dozed against a thick oak tree while Phantom kept watch. We waited until well after sundown—until most of the lights in the manor had flickered out—before we put our plan into motion.

I donned my hood and pulled my scarf up to cover most of my face; I didn’t plan on being seen, but one could never be too careful. The bounty on my head was impressive at this point—between the lies the Light King had told about me and my family, and the occasional…ah,questionablemissions I’d taken on to obtain the things Orin and I needed to get by. I didn’t have time to deal with an arrest, or to pull off yetanotherelaborate escape from the city prison.

Not when I was this close to achieving the goal I’d been working toward foryears.

I quietly scaled the front gates—while Phantom simply shifted into shadows and passed through the narrow bars—and then I tiptoed to the massive double-doors and gave several swift knocks, lingering there until I caught the sound of what might have been footsteps.

(They’re coming,) Phantom confirmed, ears twitching.

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