Between the Shadow and the Soul (13 page)

Her tattoo had almost stopped hurting by now, but the soreness still reminded her of the events of the previous night. Now more than ever, Nela knew she could trust her mother. They both broke the law. “I brought a dead animal back to life,” it burst out of her.

Her mother’s face turned into a mask of horror. “You did what?”

“I raised a dead animal,” she said. “By accident. I didn’t mean to do it.”

Her mother held her breath and pressed a hand against her lips.

“Mom?” Nela began to shake. This wasn’t the reaction she’d hoped for. She knew it was bad news, but she hadn’t expected her mother to look like her worst fear had come true. “I honestly didn’t mean to. It was horrible. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

Her mother drew in a quick breath. “No, don’t apologize.
I am
sorry.”

“You? Why would you be sorry?” Maybe her mother blamed herself for having given birth to someone like Nela.

“I should have told you.” That didn’t sound good. “When you were younger, still unaware of what magic meant, you and I visited your grandmother’s grave. Back then we still lived near Boston.” Her mother’s voice had gone so quiet that Nela leaned closer to catch every word. “It was the first time I took you there. Your grandma had been dead for only a couple of weeks and when I told you that your grandma was now resting in this grave, you were terrified. I couldn’t calm you down. You threw yourself to the ground and cried and screamed, and then I heard a noise from below.” She paused. “From inside the grave.”

Nela’s eyes grew wide. “I raised my grandma?”

“I panicked,” her mother whispered. “I didn’t know what to do. The noises from the grave were growing louder.”

“What did you do? Did I return grandma to death?”

“Oh no, you were screaming. You had absolutely no idea what you’d just done. Neither had I entirely. I knew I couldn’t tell your father. It would have worried him too much, and there was nothing he could have done, so I called your Uncle.”

“I have an Uncle?”

“He is – he was a necromancer. And one of the greatest wizards. I knew he could help me. When he arrived a couple of minutes later, the ground had started shaking, but after a command from him, everything was over.”

There was so much to take in, Nela was sure her head would explode any moment. “Didn’t he tell dad?”

“No. Your father and your uncle never got along well. While your father always obeyed the laws of the Brotherhood, your uncle bent them to his will. Maybe that was why your father was so adamant about the laws. He felt like my brother had put me in danger by practicing his magic. He never forgave him for it.” She pressed her lips together. Her mother did keep a lot of things from Nela’s dad, not that Nela could really blame her. “Your Uncle tried to convince me to let him teach you how to control your magic. But I wanted to believe that this had been a one time accident, that it would never happen again, that your uncle’s curse hadn’t been passed on to you. After all, I didn’t have the ability.”

A curse? It stung to hear her mother say that.

“I was terrified. I fled from the cemetery. Your uncle tried to contact me again but I never answered.”

“Was that why you came to Cologne?”

Her mother smiled sadly. “It was the reason why I agreed to leave when your father asked me to.”

“Then why did you leave? Why did Dad want to leave?”

“A short while after the incident, the Brotherhood sentenced your uncle to death for necromancy.”

Nela paled. That could be her future, too. “So that’s why you never talk about him, because they burnt him at the stake.” Sadness flooded Nela. Her uncle could have been her chance to learn more about herself.

Bitterness swung in her mother’s voice when she spoke again. “No, that’s not why. And they only tried to burn him at the stake.”

“Tried?”

“As I said your uncle was a great wizard and an even greater necromancer. His wife had been a witch, but she’d known about him. They’d burnt her before they led him to his stake. The Grand Master of the Brotherhood told your uncle that the ashes he was standing on were his wife.”

Nela gasped. “There’s no way he could bring her back, not if all that remained of her were ashes.”

“No, he couldn’t. But they underestimated his power. Anger made him even stronger. He raised the dead from the surrounding cemeteries even as he started to burn. They freed him and killed every single spectator. He didn’t spare anyone but me. I ran away and never saw him again.”

“Why have I never heard about it?”

“It’s not something the Brotherhood likes to talk about. They were defeated, but you can find it online under Boston massacre.” Her mother shuddered. “I’ve never seen anything so horrible. There’s no worse magic than necromancy. It goes against nature. It brings out the worst in people.”

 Nela wondered what that made her – a witch who was capable of such an atrocious form of magic? “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know, but many wars in South America in the last few years were supported by armies of the dead.”

“You think my uncle is behind it?”

“I think that day broke something in your uncle. To wield so much dark magic destroys you.” Her mother gripped her shoulders. “Promise me you won’t ever try to use necromancy again. It leads only into darkness. And if the Brotherhood catches you, they’ll burn you. You’re not your uncle. You can’t raise an army of dead to save you. You’d die.”

‘Would I?’ asked a part of Nela that scared her, a part of her that had been awakened the moment she’d raised the cat.

Chapter 14

T
he next day Nela got a text from Darko, asking her to come to his apartment that night. Her mother had avoided her gaze all day as if she was scared to look at the evil she’d raised. Nela knew her mother didn’t mean to hurt her, but every time her mother looked away, she felt like someone tore at her heart.

When Nela entered Darko’s apartment shortly after midnight, she searched the room for a sign of a dead animal. Her eyes lingered on the floor where the cat had been decapitated. Darko followed her gaze. “Yesterday was a mistake. I’m sorry. We won’t do it again. You don’t have to worry.”

She wished she could say that would have made her happy, but a tiny part of her wanted to explore the powers she’d only just discovered. She decided to ignore it. “So what are you going to teach me tonight?” She wriggled out of her coat and threw it over the couch, trying to act casual.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

“You should practice your fake smiles in front of a mirror. They aren’t very good.”

She blushed, then squared her shoulders. “I don’t have all night. Are you going to teach me magic or not?”

He gave a mock bow. “Right away.” His dark eyes danced with amusement and she had to stifle an honest smile. He came toward her. “Magic is connected to emotion. If you want to perform healing magic, or any kind of good magic really, you’ll draw the energy from positive emotions like hope, happiness.” His voice was flat, as if he was talking about something that was of no concern to him.

“And if I want to do dark magic?”

Darko tilted his head with a wry smile. “Anger, hatred, despair.” Nela shivered. His voice was like honey when he spoke the words – like they were old friends.

“What makes magic bad or good?”

“I suppose that depends on who you ask.” There was something in his dark eyes that arrested Nela. She wasn’t exactly scared of what she saw in them. She wasn’t worried he would hurt her. What worried her was that the darkness she found in his gaze stirred something in her, something she needed to keep buried if she didn’t want to end like her uncle – or worse. She took a step closer to him, magic burning under her skin. “I’m asking
you
.”

“For me it’s all the same,” he said, taking a few steps back.

“I don’t believe that. You don’t seem like someone who doesn’t know when he crosses the line to bad.”

“You don’t know me.”

Nela shrugged. “I suppose I don’t.”

“Let’s try something easy,” he said suddenly. “We know you have a talent for healing magic, that’s why I want you to try to heal me. This time not by accident.”

“Okay,” Nela said slowly, her eyes wandering over his body. He was dressed in black jeans and a tight black long-sleeved shirt. A five o’clock shadow dusted his chin and cheekbones. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen him cleanly shaved. “You aren’t injured.”

Darko bent down and pulled his long knife from its holder.

“You can’t be serious!” Nela took a step toward him but it was too late. He ran the blade over his palm with a grimace. Dark red blood welled up and trickled down to the floor. For a moment all Nela could do was stare at the droplets of blood on the wooden floor.

“Hurry up. I’m losing blood over here.” There was lightness in his tone that felt utterly wrong. She took his injured hand and winced at how deep the cut looked. “Does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse,” he said. “Focus on the magic in you, draw it to your fingertips.” She didn’t mention that her magic always seemed to reside in her fingertips, always ready to jump out and get her in trouble. “Then reach for a good emotion, for something that fills you with happiness, or hope. The tingling in your fingertips should grow.”

Nela thought of the day Finja and she had spent on the Christmas market last December, gorging on sugar roasted almonds, hot chocolate and crepes. Her fingertips seemed to buzz with electricity in response.

“Now try to focus your energy on what you want to do.”

“What about an incantation?” Nela asked distractedly, her eyes glued to the still bleeding cut.

“Some spells require incantations, and some wizards require the spoken word to give their magic focus and strength. It depends if the magic you’re performing comes easy to you.”

She nodded and tried to imagine that the energy in her fingertips wandered into Darko’s palm and sealed his cut. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead when the edges of the cut began to draw together, but then it stopped. She gasped for breath and then again from pain. Her back felt like it was on fire. Her tattoo was punishing her. Darko frowned at his palm. “Maybe we should have started with a bruise.”

Was he joking? Nela tried to ignore the pain in her back. She watched as Darko closed his own cut. She could tell it didn’t come easy to him. The wound was closing slowly and Darko was grinding his teeth. A pink scar remained when he was done. “That’s it for today,” he said.

She nodded, then flinched from the pain the movement sent through her shoulders.

“What’s the matter?” Realization crossed Darko’s face. “Your tattoo?”

“Yeah. I think it’s been getting worse since the thing with the cat.”

“It won’t get better. It’ll spread.”

“I know.” She could tell that he wanted to ask her to change her mind about removing the tattoo, but her expression seemed to stop him.

***

In the next few weeks Nela and Darko met several more times. He cut himself almost every time until eventually she could heal his wounds without leaving a scar. He also taught her how to heal her own injuries. She couldn’t bring herself to cut her palm, but she always had blisters from wearing her beloved high-heeled boots and practiced on them. At home she even tried to stop her tattoo from hurting with the same magic, but without success. By now the letters had spread toward both her shoulder blades. It was a slow process but the pain in Nela’s back was getting worse with every magical spell. It was close to unbearable.

Darko had been trying to convince her to let the guy he knew remove her tattoo and she’d finally caved and agreed to meet him. Darko picked her up around the corner from her house after midnight and they drove to the alley they’d used the last time they’d visited the Chandelier hall. Darko drew the pentagram on the ground and moments later Nela found herself back in the underground bar. It was more crowded than last time and yet less heads turned their way. Maybe she looked like she belonged after weeks of practicing magic.

Darko bought them two mugs of Dragonblood, despite Nela’s protests, and led them toward a table in the corner that was occupied by a man with sunglasses and shockingly white-blond hair and chalk-white skin.

The man nodded toward Darko, then lifted his glasses and fixed Nela with an unsettling look. “What brings you here?”

Darko sank down on a chair and Nela followed his example. She took a deep gulp from the mead, even if it left a trail of fire in her throat. She was glad for something to do.

“Nela is interested in a tattoo removal, Mikael.”

“I just want to ask a few questions. I haven’t made up my mind yet,” she protested.

Mikael cocked his eyebrows. “Are you practicing magic?”

Nela glanced at Darko who gave a nod. If he trusted Mikael, she supposed she should give it a try as well. “Yes.”

“Then I don’t know what you’re waiting for. Unless you like pain, the tattoo removal is your only option. Not to mention that your tattoo will be hard to hide at some point, especially if you’re interested in certain kinds of magic.”

“So the tattoo reacts to magic differently?”

The man smiled knowingly. “Haven’t you noticed yet?”

He was starting to unnerve her. Of course she’d noticed. She’d been practicing healing magic for weeks and yet her tattoo had only spread an inch because of it. But one accidental act of necromancy had produced the same result. Dark magic definitely had a bad influence on the tattoo. “Have you removed my mother’s tattoo?”

His face was an empty page. “Why would I know your mother?”

She narrowed her eyes. Her mother had to get her supplies somewhere and if she frequented the black market, he must have seen her before. There weren’t that many witches in Cologne. And he’d recognized Nela’s face when he’d first seen her, she was sure of it. His expression broke into a smile. “You’re good,” he said. “But I never worked on your mother’s tattoo.”

“You didn’t?” Nela hadn’t expected that answer. “Are there others?”

“Not that I know of, unless she goes to another city.”

“So about the tattoo,” Darko said impatiently.

Mikael took a sip from his mug, then pushed it over to Darko with a crooked grin. Darko sighed but picked up the mug and got a refill for the man.

“What do you want to know?” Mikael asked.

“How does it work? Will it hurt?”

Mikael seemed amused by her second question. “The tattoo will be burnt away by magic. That’s the only way to erase the magic ingrained in the ink. It’s a painful procedure. No pain no gain, eh?” He took a deep gulp from his mug.

“Will it still look the same?”

“No, not quite. The magic of the tattoo can’t be removed without a sign. Here let me show you.”

He loosened his shirt, lifted it up and turned his back to her. The tattoo was still visible but black instead of red. His had spread down his spine and over his shoulders before he’d removed the magic.

“So everyone will know what I did? The Brotherhood will know I did something to the tattoo.”

“They would if you showed them your back, but if you’ve been practicing magic your back will be proof for your crimes anyway. The procedure will stop the tattoo from burning or spreading.”

“How much?” Darko asked.

Nela stared at him. “I haven’t decided yet.” Had he forgotten what they’d discussed? She hadn’t made up her mind yet and wouldn’t let anyone, least of all him, pressure her into a decision.

He rolled his eyes. “Your tattoo will spread. This is your only option.”

“I need more time to think about it.”

Mikael took his mug and rose from the chair. “I’ll leave you two to your squabbling.”

The moment he was gone, Darko hissed. “Nela, why are you being so stubborn? You need to do this. Your tattoo will kill you if you don’t.”

She knew he had a point, but somehow this seemed like a final decision. Of course she’d decided her path the first time she’d performed magic on purpose, but this was something else entirely. And she wasn’t sure what to think about Mikael. She didn’t trust him enough to let him perform magic on her body. “I’ll decide soon.”

Darko shook his head. “Soon.”

***

Nela could barely keep her eyes open. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept through a night. If she wasn’t meeting Darko for magic lessons – which was the case twice a week – she couldn’t sleep because her back was burning or because she was worrying about her mother who snuck out to heal people. Tonight Darko wanted to meet her later than usual. She rubbed her arms as she waited for him around the corner. Usually he was always on time, but she’d been waiting for him for fifteen minutes.

Had something happened to him? She was surprised by the worry she felt. She still didn’t trust him completely, was confused by his true reasons for teaching her. Sometimes she wondered if maybe he was lonely and looking for someone to connect to.

Someone turned the corner, and the long black coat and his long strides gave Darko away. Nela walked up to him. “Where’s your motorcycle?”

“I walked,” he said. His voice was hoarse and his eyes sunken in as if he’d been awake for two days straight. “Hey,” she whispered, touching his arm. He didn’t pull back for once. “Are you okay? We don’t have to practice tonight if you don’t feel up to it.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said quietly. “And I need this. I…” He shook his head.

She waited. He looked like he wanted to say more, like he might finally be willing to open up to her. She still didn’t know anything about his family or why he was in Cologne, or even what he did all night that made him look so exhausted all the time.

“I thought we could do something a little different tonight,” he said eventually.

It wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped he would say, but she nodded. “Okay. And what do you want to do?”

“I want to show you something. We’ll have to travel by shadow though. It’s quite a distance from here.”

“Travel by shadow?”

“Come on,” Darko said as he led her toward a part of the sidewalk that wasn’t illuminated by the streetlamp. They stood close together. “I have to gather the shadows around myself and they will carry me the distance I need to go.”

“But won’t it take long?”

“No, the shadow path doesn’t exist in this reality. It’s a place between this and the netherworld, a place that defies logic and time. And it doesn’t require a pentagram unlike other forms of travel.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Nela said softly.

“It would be if we lost our way. But I’ve done this many times. Nothing will happen.”