Page 55 of Court of Heathens

A noise makes us turn our heads to see my demon, creature, and the zombie at the entrance. There is a metal dog leash attached to the zombie with his name bedazzled across the collar.

“Really, I have to walk your pets while you two fuck?” We both look at my demon, who shakes his head. “I’m disappointed. You could have at least let me join.”

“Or me,” my creature adds.

I laugh, feeling happier than I have in a very long time.

“Good, again,” Phrixius demands, and I close my eyes and focus on his magic trying to seep inside me. I block it once more, my eyes popping open with a grin. “Very good. We’ll keep practising that every day, but for now, we need to test your abilities.”

“I don’t want to,” I admit.

“Hiding from them won’t make them go away. Being a necromancer doesn’t mean you’re inherently evil. Unfortunately, those who came before you chose that path, but the powers themselves are over death and reanimation. There is beauty to that and even joy,” Phrixius explains. “Let’s start here.” He makes a flower, the purple rose wilted and long since forgotten. “Bring it back to life. Make it beautiful again.”

Taking a deep breath, I focus on the rose. He’s right. I can’t hide from what I am, which means I need to train to know how to control it.The worst choice would be to leave it alone and not understand its strengths and weaknesses. That won’t help me at all.

Closing my eyes, I reach for the flower, letting the dark vine inside me unfurl and reach through towards it. It hurts, and I screw my eyelids tighter together. I can taste my blood in my mouth, but I keep going. Silently, those vines seek death, not life. It is not how I thought it would be. It seems to crave the decay in its petals and wants to consume it, turning it into power.

I thought necromancy was about reanimating life, but this seems like it wants to use death. It scares me so much my eyes fling open. Phrixius is grinning at me, completely unaware. “Good, Freya!” I follow his gaze down to the flower, which is now fully blooming, bright with life and a future.

As I stare at that alive flower, I start to wonder if necromancy is truly evil, but as the vine slithers back into place, fed and happy, I shiver in horror, knowing it can be. That feeling, even a little, let me know how easily it could be corrupted.

It wanted death. It didn’t care how it got it, whether from something already passed or still living.

“Again.” Phrixius conjures a whole plant this time.

I’m hesitant, but I follow his instructions. The more control I learn, the better. I don’t want something like that living inside me unchecked. If it truly is evil, and if I am destined to kill and slaughter, then I’ll do my fucking best to stop it. I will not let it win, which means learning control.

I’ll practise so much it never consumes me. I’ll show them all. I have no other choice.

Hours later, I’m covered in a cold sweat and exhausted. I practised until I couldn’t lift my hand anymore. Magic takes a toll, and new magic is wild and harder to maintain. My bones ache and my skin feels uncomfortably tight as I crawl into my bed. Phrixius and my demon are watching me, both worried, but I wave them off.

“I just need to rest a little, then I’ll carry on.”

“Rest,” Phrixius says. “You cannot afford to be weak.”

I am glad he’s taking this seriously, even if we both know why. He doesn’t want to kill me. He wants me to beat this, and so do I.

My creature, who was happily eating, polishes off the bowl and heads my way, climbing into my bed. My eyes widen as he wraps himself around me, purring happily. “Erm . . .” I try to scoot away, but he clings on tighter, and honestly, I’m too tired to fight him. I just slump into his warm embrace, letting it comfort me after a long day.

“We can’t keep calling you creature,” I murmur.

“You call me demon,” my demon mutters.

“Only because you won’t tell me your name!” I snap before glancing over my shoulder and softening my tone. “Do you have a preference on a name?”

“Whatever you wish to call me, I will cherish.” He presses even closer. I feel his length hardening, but I choose to ignore it and the flash of desire that slides through me.

“How about third wheel? Annoying? Inappropriate?” my demon starts, so I flick my fingers and sew his mouth shut. He mumbles something behind it as he begins to unwind the magic, giving me at least a few moments of peace.

Turning in the creature’s arms, I look up at his monstrously handsome face and try to think, but the first word that pops out of my mouth is equally as strange but almost fitting. “Sha?”

“Sha? Isn’t that just a sound?” Phrixius asks.

“No,” I reply. “I heard it once, a long time ago, in a fairy tale.” I snuggle deeper into the bed, a wide yawn splitting my face. “The elders were telling it to us to scare us, describing a big bad monster coming to eat little witches.” A soft smile curves my lips.

“He ate you, that’s for sure,” my demon interrupts, but I ignore him.

“So I am . . . the villain of this fairy tale?” Sha asks.

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