Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

M y eyes snap open suddenly, and I blink at the complete darkness.

The last thing I remember is leaving the cave, needing space from all that testosterone, and then . . . something happened. Something was whispered into my ear, burrowing in my brain, and then . . . nothing.

What happened?

Did I pass out?

Frowning, I try to move, but it's like I have no body or it's frozen. I cannot even feel or see anything but darkness. Panic fills me, and I scream internally for someone, anybody.

Suddenly, flames burst to life, blinding me for a moment before they die down, and I can see. When I do, horror and fear explode through me. I'm not in my body nor anywhere I recognise. I'm in the dark someplace. It has to be underground, if the rock above and around us is anything to go by, but stretched below and before us is an entire underground city.

It's dark and empty.

I say us because before and to the side of me are hundreds of unmoving zombies. They are lined up and waiting like soldiers ready for battle. I want to scream, but I can't. I'm trapped inside one, seeming to use their eyes to look out. Flames jump along the wall in a long line, illuminating more, but the darkness is so thick, most of it cannot be penetrated, and it leaves everything in an unnatural, shivering shadow.

From one of those shadows, a figure emerges, and I pray to the gods they cannot see me inside this zombie. They are tall, clearly male, and dressed in what looks to be ornate armour, which is black with spiked vines. Pale skin shines underneath, and I see black, bulging veins. I cannot see his face, however, which is covered by a mask.

It's the mask from Agatha's shop.

Even now, I hear the souls trapped inside calling to me.

I watch in terror as the necromancer turns away from the zombies. He stands above the city at a black stone altar. There are bowls and skulls across it, and blood seems to drip endlessly from the slab to the floor.

There is so much blood, you could drown in it.

As I watch, he reaches behind the slab and drags a wailing woman onto the altar. My heart freezes as I scream.

"Please!" she cries, trying to fight him, but he pins her down and produces a curved, wicked blade from the table. Her scream bounces around us until my ears feel like they are bleeding, and his laughter follows it.

He lifts the blade, holding her with his other hand. "Your sacrifice is for the greater good. You will serve a bigger purpose. Do not fear death, for it is my friend." The knife slices down so fast, I swear I barely see it. It cuts through her chest, even as she screams and chokes on blood. He drops the blade for a moment, plunging his hand into her chest as her arms fall limply to the side, her head turning until her empty eyes meet mine.

If I could cry, I would, but all I can do is watch as he roots around in her chest, the sound of snapping bones filling the air. He grabs the blade once more and stabs, pulling it out of her wound.

I fight to get free, calling my magic, but it's like there's a block between it and me. The figure turns, the blood-covered blade held in the air with a heart speared on the tip.

Blood magic. Death magic.

He seems to be searching for something before turning back to the altar, and as I watch, he holds up the heart and whispers something before carving into the organ and carefully placing it back in the open chest of the woman. Picking up a needle and thread, he sews her up and presses his hands to her skin.

I watch in fascinated horror as the woman sits up, still bleeding but dead. Her eyes are cold and empty, and her mouth is still open in horror, so he reaches up and shuts it.

"Welcome to my army," he murmurs. "Now stand with the rest." Obediently, the woman slides from the table, stumbles over, and gets into line with the rest of us.

Oh gods, please. I want to go home. Please, let me go.

I reach for my magic again to get out of here when he turns abruptly. "I feel you." I freeze. "I can taste your magic in the air. I know you are watching me. Where are you?"

He wanders over, blood dripping down his arms to the floor, making my stomach roll. His eyes run over his zombies, searching, and I panic. I try to hide as deeply as I can, but I don't even know how I got here or how to get back.

He stops before me, and I want to run, but I'm trapped.

That masked head tilts, and I know he's smiling as his hand grips my zombie's face. That mask fills my vision until I see black eyes that delve into my soul, seeming to tear me apart as agony rips through me. "I see you, witch."

I jerk awake with a scream, my hands scrambling across my face and body as I blink and look around.

"Freya, Freya!" Panicked voices fill my ears as I scramble back, trying to wipe the blood away from my face, but there's none. Breathing heavily, I meet three worried gazes. Phrixius, my demon, and the creature kneel before me in my home.

"Little witch," my demon says softly, "it's okay. You're okay now. I don't know what happened. I couldn't reach you. It was like I couldn't follow you?—"

"He saw me," I croak.

"Who did?" Phrixius asks softly.

"The necromancer. I was there, wherever he was. I saw him, he—" I swallow, tears falling down my cheeks. "He killed someone and brought them back as a zombie. There was a whole army, and he saw me. He saw me."

"Freya, are you sure?" my demon asks, and I nod as I wrap my arms around myself.

"I'm sure. He saw me. He fucking saw me."