Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

P hrixius's eyes snap open and land on us. "I know where he is."

We all breathe a sigh of relief. Despite the demon's teasing, I think we were all worried Phrixius couldn't find the necromancer. He searched for hours. When we came back from his world, we all slept curled together—it was the best sleep I ever had. Our hands lingered on one another as if we knew we needed to hold on tight because tonight, we will face our biggest enemy yet. Anything could happen. It almost made us reluctant to release each other, but before the sun set, we sat down and protected Phrixius as he tracked the necromancer.

We are ready, or so I tell myself. Either way, it doesn't matter. We have to end this before any more lives are taken. I don't know what awaits us, but I know the necromancer will not go down without a fight, which means I need to be stronger, faster, and harder than ever before. I need to trust my magic and my men.

Combined, a demon, creature, god, and necromancer can do this, right?

My nerves do not disappear, however, even as Phrixius gracefully rises and holds out his hand. "Let us go." As I place my shaking palm in his, the others surround us. "Remember," Phrixius warns, "necromancers are masters of the dead. Do not trust anything or let your guard down. The grave will come for us tonight, and we must face it head-on."

Nodding silently, I hold his hand tighter, and then we are gone. My body twists and melts, and when we reappear, it is not where I thought it would be. We stand at the edge of a graveyard—a familiar graveyard.

A lone church with open doors faces us.

"This is the church we came to before," I whisper, sharing a look with Adder. "He'll be waiting inside. It's a trap."

"Yes." Phrixius nods as he steps over the invisible line we have drawn. "It most certainly is a trap." When he glances back at us, there's a slight grin on his face. "So let's spring it, shall we?"

I share a look with Sha and Adder, who grins, rubbing his hands together. "I like this version of your god. You should fuck him senseless more often." He winks at me and tugs me after them. "Into the creepy church we go."

"Don't hide behind me this time," I mutter jokingly, searching the graves in case he lies in wait. Something is different, but I can't put my finger on what. Maybe it's my own nerves, or maybe I'm just being a coward, but my steps slow. The darkness within me crawls and writhes as if sensing something I don't. My magic is ready to strike out at an attacker I do not see nor sense.

"What is it?" Sha asks, turning back and waiting for me.

"Nothing." Shaking my head, I start to follow them to the church once more. There is no point in hiding our approach, since he will have sensed me as soon as I arrived—I know because I can sense him. The touch of death waits for us inside. It calls to me like a taunting whisper on the wind.

Suddenly, I jerk to a stop, realization slamming into me as to why it looks different. "All the graves are empty."

They stop around me, seeking out what my brain has noticed. Every grave is a gaping hole. As far as the eye can see, there are no bodies, only empty caskets. I tread closer to one to check and swallow at the emptiness .

"Freya," Phrixius murmurs, "can you see if they are waiting inside? Be careful not to touch them. You could take control, but don't yet. We'll take him by surprise with that once we are inside, if you think you can."

Nodding, I close my eyes and reach out with those thorny vines. They touch upon the church, and I pull back. "At least forty inside," I tell him. "I can do it." Rolling my shoulders back, I nod at them. "Give me the signal, and I will snatch control of them so it's only him."

"He'll be weak from bringing so many back so suddenly, right?" Adder asks with a frown. "That takes a lot of power."

"Unless he did it before and left them behind. It wouldn't surprise me," Phrixius says. "Necromancers are tricky, intelligent beings. They know their greatest strength is also their weakness."

Inclining my head, I follow after them, carefully now, since we know what awaits us inside, if only slightly. The darkness of the night wraps around us as we move towards the church, the moon seemingly not reaching here as if afraid of what is inside.

We share a look at the door, and Adder leans over and kisses my cheek. "Be careful, little witch, and leave the killing to us. Give us a route to him."

Swallowing nervously, I watch as Phrixius heads inside, followed by Adder then Sha. Taking one last look behind us, I step over the threshold and into the church.

It is not how we left it. I don't know what I was expecting, but it is so much worse.

Blood still paints the walls, but there is more now. Words I do not understand cover every inch, even the floor and forgotten pews.

Standing against each wall are the decaying corpses of those from the graves outside, their dark eyes locked on us as they wait.

They speak as one. "Welcome home, heathens."

Standing between my men, I search for the necromancer, but I cannot see him. The candles covering nearly every inch of the ring spring to life, their wax starting to drip across the floor like blood. At the altar, a blood-red candle burns brightly, and I spy a beating heart atop it, pierced by a blade .

It's eerily quiet, and I hesitate for a moment before stepping from their midst. I feel the guys reach for me, but I tug away, treading farther down the path between the bodies and pews. "Where are you? I know you're here. I can taste you," I call.

"You brought friends," the bodies say together.

Wax drips down on me from candles hanging from the ceiling, but I don't let my hiss escape as it slides down my cheek and then pauses there, hardening like a tear. More droplets land on my shoulders, in my hair, and down my back, coating me like blood.

"You know why we are here," I tell him. Part of me hates what we are going to do, and I feel sorry for him, but he made his choice, and I am making mine. "I cannot be what you want me to be. I cannot turn my back on the world."

"It has turned its back on us!" they screech, and I stop myself from covering my ears. I feel blood sliding down my neck from them, but I stand tall, and when it stops, I step forward again, showing I am unafraid.

There is only one thing a man like him respects—power.

"Enough, talking will not get us anywhere. You have made your choice, and I am making mine. I choose this world and these people."

It's quiet, and I step forward, searching him out in the bodies. My gaze catches on something black. It's a robe, and my eyes narrow as I head closer. "Come out."

"Freya," Adder warns.

"I know," I hiss, and then I turn when there's a flash of black. He appears behind my men, and my eyes widen. "Behind you!"

He's gone just as quickly, but his army steps forward, their eyes turning to my men. "Now!" Phrixius tells me.

I slam my darkness through the bodies, taking control of them like I did my zombie, but his laughter rings out.

He appears before me, wearing a grin, and presses his finger to my forehead.

"Just what I wanted." Suddenly, the control I had yanks on me, and I tumble into the empty, cold grave.

It was a trap .

He wanted me to take control. He wanted to trap me inside them.

I feel my body, still and empty, as my name is screamed, yet I cannot see, feel, or move.

It was like when I was inside the zombie, only this time everything is dark. It closes around me like a cage, trapping me there with his power, which means . . . it can be broken.

I calm myself like Phrixius taught me, and then I flood my system with my own power, meeting his and ripping into it. I focus on pushing him back. It's like peeling tar, and I grow agitated but try to focus. If I let my anger get the better of me, he will consume me again.

It's a battle of wills, and I refuse to lose while my men are fighting him alone.

I don't know how much time passes, but it feels like forever, and when I finally manage to push back that last bit of darkness, I realise it wasn't me. It was him—he retreated.

He releases me, and I gasp as I slam back into my body, my eyes watering from the sudden shock. My limbs shake as I stumble forward. Everything is different—everything has moved. My head swings around in fear. I am standing in a ring of candles, with zombies kneeling before me, facing outwards, and my men are nowhere in sight.

Blinking, I look around the room, wondering how long I was out. Candles have burned down, but I don't see the necromancer or my men. "Guys?" I croak, so I clear my throat as I step from the circle, carefully avoiding the motionless bodies standing like statues. "Hello?"

There's a bang that makes me jump, and I whirl, my eyes narrowing in confusion.

There are three black caskets with chains wrapped around them. Zombies stand guard on either side, their eyes locked on me.

"Guys?" I murmur as I step closer, only to stop when there's another bang and one of the coffins jumps.

My ears strain as I move closer. "Freya!" The scream makes my heart stop.

Phrixius.

My eyes move to the other coffins .

Three.

Oh god. I rush over.

"Run! It's a trap!" he bellows.

I turn, ready to use my magic, but it's too late. He stands right behind me, grinning, and as I lift my hands to fling my spell at him, he blows a glittering black powder into my face. I cough as I fall back, my vision going dark, and then suddenly, darkness closes around me once more.

Only this time, it's sleep.

I wake with a gasp, my eyes suddenly clearing. Everything feels too hot, too tight, and my mouth has a horrible taste in it. How much time has passed? Where am I?

Where are my guys? Are they alive?

Fear fills me as my vision finally clears enough for me to see my hands, and my heart freezes in my chest when I recognise the buildings around me.

Necromancer City.

It stands tall around me, too tall, and I frown, realising I'm kneeling in the middle of a street. To my left is a shop, and to my right is a familiar door—his home. I'm kneeling outside of it.

How long was I out?

"Good, you're finally awake," he calls from inside the dark home, and then he fades into view at the door, stepping out into the lantern-lit way. He doesn't stop until he is before me.

"My men," I rasp.

"Oh, the three you came with? They are alive for now. They could be useful. They were easy to defeat." I frown, knowing they are unstoppable. "One threat to you was all it took, and they got into those coffins willingly, refusing to let me harm you. Foolish, they knew I would anyway, but they couldn't bear to be the reason you were hurt. I knew you were special. Look at you, you will be magnificent, and if you can turn them to our side, then you can turn anyone." He crouches before me, his hand lingering above my skin. "Magnificent."

His hand lowers, hovering above my chest as I stare into his eyes. He threatened my men, and they did what he said so he wouldn't hurt me? No, Phrixius wouldn't risk letting him go like that, right?

"However . . ." He meets my gaze, and agony tears through me, his fist slamming through my chest, carried by his power. His hand wraps around my heart as I scream and writhe. "They cannot have this. It belongs to us. It's time to wake up, little witch. It's time to come home to us where you belong. This will make you weak. I will rip that weakness out of you."

The agony only triples, and I watch in horror as darkness crawls down his arm and seeps into my chest, wrapping around my heart.

"You cannot fight this." He chuckles. "I am stronger."

I shake my head as I try to fight off the memories bombarding me. He smirks, and I know it's him. He's in my head again, in my body, controlling me, and I cannot stop it. They consume me once more, flinging me into the past.

Screams echo in my head as flashes of death fill my mind. There is so much death—women, men, children, and the elderly. Their blood sprays across me until I swear I can taste it. The gods laugh as they fall.

So much death.

So much pain.

There's a sobbing teenage girl curled over her big brother. She lifts her head, meeting my gaze, and then a spear pierces her chest and is gone in the same instant. She falls, covering his body, her hand still in his as she dies. There's an old man holding his wife, tears silently streaming down his face as he watches me come for him. His eyes close as the blade strikes.

There are so many more, I start to scream as I am caught watching them die.

The grief and anger are overpowering.

The memories seek to drive me mad, trying to taint my soul and turn me into him .

No, I will not let him.

I cannot.

I am stronger than he thinks.

Phrixius's words come back to me—I am stronger than I know. Adder's voice fills my head, telling me I can do anything. Sha's warmth engulfs me, promising me protection.

I let the memories of our happiness and our love block the evil he is showing me, and it starts to wane, losing strength and power over me. I fill myself up so he cannot, allowing me to take myself back.

My fury and power slams through me until the remaining memories rip and fade, leaving me in darkness.

My eyes open, and I meet his shocked gaze. "I can fight this, and I will. You are not stronger." With a roar, I lift my hand and grab his arm, then I yank it from my chest. Gasping, I tumble forward, and I can't stop the laughter that falls from my lips.

Glancing down, I see my chest is still bleeding, so I wave my hand and let the darkness stitch it back together. It's still jagged and raw, but it's enough for me to get to my feet as he lies on his back, watching me.

"Let me show you how strong I am so you understand the enemy you made."

Turning, I hold out my arm, and with a bloodied grin, I release my magic.

Flames lick at buildings, turning into an inferno as they spread through the city, consuming the memories he tried to darken my soul with. I stand amidst the flames, the heat making sweat drip down my face.

"What have you done?" he roars.

I glance at him over my shoulder, my smile cruel. "Burn with your memories." Turning forward, I walk towards the flames.

"I will see you again!" he shouts.

"Not if I see you first," I respond as I wave my hand, calling a portal and stepping inside.

I shut it behind me, leaving him to burn in his flames, locked in the past where he belongs.