Between the Shadow and the Soul (12 page)

Darko stiffened. “Those people weren’t innocent,” he growled. The glass jars in the lab began shaking.

The Master whirled on him. “Get a hold on yourself.”

Darko flushed. The jars stopped moving. “I’m sorry, Master. Today has been tiring.” He’d lost control of his magic. The last time something like had happened was shortly before he’d fled his village in Yugoslavia.

The Master pursed his lips.

Darko lowered his eyes. His heart was still throbbing in his chest. It didn’t keep the same rhythm as the hearts trapped in the jars, and somehow it felt strange. “I have good news,” he said carefully. “I’m making progress on Nela. Tonight I met her for magic lessons. I had prepared a dead cat for her. She managed to wake it. She is a necromancer like you suspected.”

“Indeed, hm,” the Master murmured. “Did she intentionally raise the dead or was it by accident?”

“By accident, Master. She got angry and that seemed to awaken her abilities, but she couldn’t control them. I had to chop the cat’s head off to return it to the dead.”

The Master’s lips twisted with dark amusement. “And how did the girl react to such a brutal glimpse into your character?”

Darko frowned. She hadn’t actually said anything about his actions. Had he scared her? Maybe even scared her away? “She was too shocked by her own abilities to pay much attention to me.” He shifted on his feet. “Is it normal that she can’t control it? Will she learn in time?”

Master Valentin narrowed his eyes. “She’ll have to hone her craft. Of course it would be easier if she had a necromancer to guide her, but her abilities aren’t our concern. For our purpose it’s enough that she possesses the gift of connecting to the dead.”

But Darko’s goal was different from his Master’s. How could he teach her how to control her talent without the help of someone wiser?

The Master sank down on his stool. Despite the new heart, he looked pale. “There’s no use in harboring any hope that the girl could help you with your sister. Even if she were trained in her art, that wouldn’t change anything. Necromancers can raise the body of the dead and they can control it, bend it to their will, but they can’t infuse it with its soul. They raise empty shells. Only a necromancer or wizard with the power of a demon at his hand can reconnect what was severed, can unite body and soul.”

“But the cat was writhing in pain. If it was empty, why was it reacting like that?”

“First of all, an animal is a very different matter from a human soul. The human soul is more aware of death and thus strongly anchored to the afterlife. What you saw, might have been something else entirely. The girl might have projected her own terror into the cat. That would explain the strong reaction. Or maybe she somehow managed to unite a very small portion of the original soul with the body and that caused the cat’s anguish. There are several explanations, but in all the time I’ve never known a necromancer who could actually bring a human back to life with its body and soul intact. It can’t be done. And remember, your sister’s body is already badly decomposed. A mere reunion between body and soul wouldn’t be enough in her case. You’ll have to create a new body for her. Only a demon possesses that power. Don’t waste time on foolish hopes, Darko.” There was a warning in that sentence.

Chapter 13

N
ela pressed her eyes shut, trying to breathe evenly, and yet the pain remained. The fire in her back had barely faded since last night – since she’d raised a
dead
cat. The pitiful meows of the poor creature still rang in Nela’s ears and the moment she closed her eyes its writhing body took center stage in her mind. What had she done?

She’d never done something like that before. Or had she? Maybe she could ask her mother about it later. She had pretended to be sick this morning in order to avoid having breakfast with her parents and having to face them. If they knew what she was, what they were harboring under their roof, what would they do? Necromancers were feared, not only by humans. She’d be shunned by witches and humans alike. But who was she kidding? She wouldn’t even get the chance to be shunned. If the Brotherhood found out she was capable of raising the dead, she’d burn at the stake. There would be no trial. Her mere existence was a crime against nature, against life, against everything the Brotherhood believed in.

She felt sick and that combined with the constant pain in her back, made her lie back down on her bed. She wouldn’t sleep. She hadn’t all night. She hadn’t even dared take a look at her tattoo yet. Healing magic had made the tattoo spread less than a quarter inch, but raising the dead was a very different kind of magic. The darkest kind. If the fact that the space under her right shoulder was hurting now was any indication, then she was in trouble. She heard the bell, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit up, much less go downstairs.

Her mother’s and Finja’s voices drifted upstairs. Nela had sent her best friend a message last night and of course Finja had come as soon as she could tear herself away from the breakfast table. Nela wasn’t even sure what to tell Finja. This information could lead Nela straight to the stake. She trusted Finja more than anyone, but was that trust enough for this revelation?

Someone knocked at the door. “Nela? Finja is here to visit,” her mother said.

“Okay,” Nela responded and a second later the door opened. Finja walked in but behind her Nela could make out her mother’s worried face. She’d noticed something was going on. How much longer till Nela couldn’t keep it a secret anymore?

Finja’s forehead creased with worry but she didn’t say anything until the door was closed and they heard Nela’s mother walk away. “You look horrible,” Finja whispered as she perched beside Nela. “What happened? Did that guy do something to you?”

He had done something. He’d revealed her true self to her. If she’d never met him, maybe she could have died blissfully ignorant. But no. At some point, Nela would have slipped, like she’d done with the boy in front of church, and then she probably wouldn’t have had someone to cover her traces like Darko had done. She shuddered when her mind replayed how he’d cut the cat’s head off. It had looked so brutal even though he’d freed the poor thing with his actions.

“Nela, talk to me,” Finja pleaded. “You’re starting to freak me out. That look on your face. I’ve never seen it before.”

Maybe that was her new mask of evil. Nela let out a giggle, and then froze. She was starting to lose it. Finja seemed to think the same because she looked close to calling for Nela’s mother. Suddenly, she was scared. Scared of Finja’s reaction when she told her. Finja was her best friend, her only friend except for Oskar, and he’d been extracting himself more and more. If she lost Finja, too, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Darko wasn’t her friend. She wasn’t sure what he was, but definitely nothing that came close to filling the gap that losing Finja would rip.

“What I’m going to tell you is really bad,” Nela started, her voice shaky and small. “And I’m scared of how you’re going to react.” She felt tears rise into her eyes. Finja swallowed. Nela wasn’t usually a crier. “I’m scared you’re going to hate me, or worse fear me.”

Finja gripped her hand. “Don’t be stupid, Nela. I’ve known you all my life. Nothing could make me hate you or fear you. I promise.”

“Don’t say that.” It was an empty promise, Nela knew that. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t watch her friend’s face if she wanted the courage to tell the truth. “I’m a necromancer.” It were the first words out of her mouth, but more followed. She told Finja about bringing the cat back from the dead, about its cries, about her inability to return it to the dead, and then she fell silent.

She waited a moment, but nothing came. She dared to open her eyes and found Finja staring back at her with wide eyes. She’d never seen her friend so shocked and pale. Something shriveled in Nela. She tried to pull her hand back from Finja to make it easier for her, but her friend tightened her hold. She wouldn’t let Nela retreat.

Finja swallowed, then took a deep breath. “Maybe it was him who did this. Maybe he’s the necromancer. Have you ever thought of it?” There was hopeful despair in her expression, and Nela wanted to latch onto that hope, but she knew better. She’d left something out from her recount of the events – her emotions, the utter sense of power that had washed over her for a brief moment after she’d raised the cat. She couldn’t even put it into words. She’d felt a connection to the cat. Somehow she’d known she could have told the cat to do anything she wanted and it would have done it. She hadn’t exactly communicated with the creature, there had been a strange static there, like whatever presence she’d raised in the cat was very confused, or perhaps even broken.

“I’m sure it was me. I know it,” she said without a doubt.

Finja nodded slowly, then looked away. Nela waited. She didn’t know what else to say.

“It doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t change anything for me,” Finja said eventually. Nela couldn’t believe what she heard. She almost choked with relief. “Just promise me to be careful. This is dangerous stuff. If you get caught, they’ll kill you. You know that. No matter what you say, no matter what your parents do, the Brotherhood will make you burn. This is serious, Nela.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do. You told me.”

Nela frowned. “You’re my best friend. I trust you.”

Finja squeezed her hand. “You can trust me. I’d never tell anyone about what you just told me. I’d rather die.”

Nela knew that was another promise she couldn’t possibly keep. Many strong wizards and witches had broken down under torture. Today torture was generally forbidden, but there were exemptions, and Nela was sure that information about a necromancer was one of those.

Finja continued “Even though you can trust me, you texted me immediately afterward. You didn’t even think about it. You acted out of despair. You have to be more careful than that. If you want to keep this a secret, you’ll have to learn to think twice before you act. Since the killings everyone is on edge. A small error could be all it takes to get you in trouble.”

She’d never heard her friend talk like that. She sounded like a weird mix between her father and Oskar. “Are you still going to meet Darko?”

Nela had wondered about that herself. She’d changed her mind several times throughout the night. “I don’t have a choice. I need to learn how to control my magic. I can’t risk raising the saints in the Cologne Cathedral by accident.” It was meant as a joke but Finja looked like she was going to puke.

“Why has it never happened before? You’ve attended funerals, right? And you were close to the dead saints in church many times. Why now?”

“Not a funeral, no. And maybe the saints have been dead for too long. I don’t know, but ever since I got the tattoo my magic has been getting more insistent. It’s as if the magic in the tattoo has awakened my own. I worry that it’ll only get worse.”

“Maybe your body reacts differently to the tattoo because you’re a necromancer.” She rubbed her face, smearing her mascara around her eyes. Nela reached out and wiped the black stains away. Finja gave her a soft smile. “We will keep you safe. Even if that means you’ll have to keep meeting that guy. I really don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I. I think it’s strange that he even thought about testing me like that.”

“Maybe he knows more than you do.”

Nela shrugged. It was hard to get information out of Darko. “So you don’t feel a stronger urge to do magic since the Marking?”

Finja tilted her head in consideration. “Maybe a little. Sometimes when I see the tattoo in the mirror I wonder how it would be to live in a world where we can do magic whenever we wanted. But I don’t ever feel close to losing control.”

Nela envied Finja. Since last night, since getting a taste of what she was capable of, she felt even less in control than before.

***

Nela had been thinking about talking to her mother all day. Of course her parents had noticed that she was acting weird during dinner, but she’d blamed it on being sick. Nela was tired. She would probably fall asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, but she was scared of her dreams. The images of the headless cat and all the blood would certainly make an appearance.

She tiptoed out of her room, not wanting to wake her parents in the middle of the night. Only twenty-four hours ago she’d thought she was just a witch, and now suddenly she was a necromancer. Darko hadn’t tried to contact her today. She’d thought he’d try to meet her again but maybe he’d realized that she needed more time.

She’d make herself a warm glass of milk with honey and then maybe she’d find a couple of hours of more or less peaceful sleep. She was careful to stay on the right side of the stairs where the boards didn’t creak, and froze. A shadow was moving in the hallway and slipping into the living room. She ducked and quickly followed, catching a glimpse of her mother leaving the house through the door leading into their garden. What was her mother doing sneaking around at night? Was she cheating on Nela’s dad? She considered running after her mother but decided to wait. Her stomach coiling tightly with worry, she made herself a warm milk before she returned to the living room and sank down on the sofa with a good view at the terrace door.

Nela tried to stay awake but as the hand of the clock inched past two in the morning, her eyes began to feel like lead. She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she remembered was being woken by a cold breeze. She jerked up, eyes darting to the clock, which read 3:35.

Her mother let out a quiet gasp, standing stone-still in the doorway. Nela rubbed the sleep from her eyes, giving her mother time to collect herself. Slowly her mother’s rigid features relaxed and she closed the door behind her. “What are you doing up?”

She could have asked the same question. “I was waiting for you to return. I saw you leave three hours ago.”

Her mother cast her eyes down. “I need to be more careful, I guess.”

“So you’re sneaking out of the house often?”

Her mother settled on the couch beside her. After a moment Nela spoke up. “Are you cheating on dad?”

Her mother actually laughed. “I love your father. I’d never cheat on him.” From so close up, Nela could see the tiredness edged into her mother’s face. She looked unnaturally pale in the moonlight streaming in from outside.

“Then what were you doing?”

Her mother’s eyelids fluttered and she leaned back against the backrest. “I’d hoped I could keep it a secret.”

Nela’s chest tightened. That didn’t sound good.

“I’m a healer,” her mother admitted. “I’m helping people who need it.”

Nela couldn’t believe it. Her mother was secretly practicing magic – breaking the law. It was ironic that she felt more worried on her mother’s behalf than she’d ever felt for herself. “How long have you been doing it?” It couldn’t have been for long. Her mother had the tattoo. The iron released into her body would have left marks by now.

“For years,” her mother whispered.

“Years? But how?” Then it dawned on Nela. “You’re only giving out potions and herbal tinctures.”

“No. I’m casting healing spells. Many people who approach me wouldn’t survive with potions alone.”

“But your tattoo…”

Her mother smiled. “Don’t worry about my tattoo. Everything is fine.”

Suspicion flashed through Nela. Her mother must have done what Darko had told her about – removed the tattoo when she started working as a healer.

“I want to help you,” she pleaded.

“No.”

“Mom, please. I can help.”

Her mother shook her head vehemently. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t risk it.”

“But you’re risking it. Why can’t I?”

“Because you’re my daughter and I want to protect you.”

Nela considered telling her about Darko. If her mother knew, she was already putting herself at risk by learning magic from a near stranger, maybe she would reconsider her decision. But something in her mother’s expression made her decide against it; she didn’t want to worry her mother.

“Does dad know about this?” Her father would never approve of her mother going against the Brotherhood like that, but how could he not know?

Her mother tensed. “No, he doesn’t. He would worry too much. He’s got already so much on his plate with the family business.”

Nela couldn’t help but wonder if that was the only reason why her mother didn’t tell him. But how could she keep it a secret? Her tattoo would give her away, wouldn’t it? Nela didn’t even want to consider that her parents did see each other naked, but they probably did. Nela wasn’t curious enough to ask her mother about
that
though. Her mother must have found a way to hide it from him. That was enough for Nela.