Page 32 of Court of Heathens

“It seems disoriented, like when you get lost without a map,” mydemon observes helpfully, disappearing and reappearing on top of a gravestone, kicking his legs. “Come here, little zombie. That’s it, good zombie.”

I watch in open-mouthed fascination as the zombie stumbles towards my grinning demon. “You’d be better with a dog than a cat.”

“That’s it, good zombie. No, no biting. I taste delicious, but it’s not that type of party.” He snaps his fingers and rope appears around it, thrusting into the ground and dragging the zombie down to its knees. It groans, looking around as if it’s confused. Are all zombies like that?

From the stories I’ve heard of necromancers, I thought the undead armies were intelligent, sure, and strong. This one is smelly and slow. As if following my thoughts, my demon hops down and circles it, cocking his head as his forked tongue darts out to taste the air.

“Black magic for sure, but long gone. I think its master cut its strings. The only reason it’s still alive and moving is because of the spark of power they used to bring it back,” he muses, cocking his head. “I wonder if its master can still affect it or see us through it.”

“We better not find out. Let’s . . . Wait.” I still. “Why would they see us through it?”

“Well, it might be useful,” he starts with a sly grin.

“We are not keeping this one! It will shed its skin everywhere. It’s enough that I have a demon who files his horns in my bathroom,” I warn, pointing at him. “I draw the line at zombies. We have an arm, that’s enough.”

“Good point, this one isn’t missing an arm.”

“Which means . . .” We both look at the zombie in horror. “There are more of them out there.” My eyes land on the overturned graves. “A lot more, and this is only one cemetery. There must be hundreds in a fifty-mile radius.”

We share a look, and at the same time, we say, “Fuck.”

“So this is a necromancer, and he used a zombie to steal a mask that is possessed by evil spirits, and they probably plan to take over the world, right? Just to get us both on the same page.”

“Sounds about right.” My demon scratches his head as he peers atthe zombie. “We should go back before whoever is behind this returns. We can’t just leave it here like this though, can we? That’s cruel.”

“Alright, let me see if I can cut the magic.” I move closer, wrinkling my nose at the stench. My demon is right. It’s cruel. This was a person.

“Wait, no, just leave it. I was wrong.” He appears before me, his spread arms blocking my path.

“No, you’re right. This was someone’s loved one. We should lay them to rest.” I slide under his arm, but he appears again, stopping me from getting too close.

“No, leave it. It doesn’t care.”

“Demon, what is going on?” I ask, crossing my arms and narrowing my gaze on him.

He’s unnaturally serious for once. “It’s fine. Let’s leave it. We don’t know what you are playing with or what that magic inside will do. We don’t want to risk it.”

I tilt my head, watching him. “That’s not the reason. You are lying to me.”

“I’m a demon. I lie all the time,” he counters, but his eyes shift away.

“Not to me, and not about important stuff.” Stepping closer, I force his eyes back to me. “Why don’t you want me to free that thing?”

“Because I’m scared,” he admits softly, peering into my eyes like I am pulling the truth from him. His voice is pained. “I don’t know what your darkness will do when it touches that thing, and I don’t want you to find out.”

“My darkness?” I whisper.

“The one you hide, the one I feed on when it becomes too much. The darkness we don’t discuss, the one you are afraid of. I don’t know what it will do to it, and I don’t want to, nor do I want whoever is behind its strings to see you, so leave it,” he begs. “Please, Freya, let this one go. Let’s go home and forget this ever happened.”

I can’t. I stumble back, my heart hammering. My entire body turns cold and clammy. “The darkness, you know what it is.”

He swallows, dropping his arms as he stares at me. “Freya?—”

There’s a groan, and the zombie falls to the side, pathetic and abandoned—just like me. Maybe that’s why I do it, or maybe I want to know once and for all what I am.

And that is how we end up adopting a zombie.

Every time I get close to the zombie, it focuses on me, seeming to grow stronger. I hide on my bed, watching it. We locked it in a cage, which my demon created out of thin air. Once I’m not close, it seems to go back to being dormant, but it’s more than that. It’s the feeling I get when I draw nearer. The darkness inside surges up as if called to it.

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