“It’s whatever I say it is.”
“Sure thing,MasterKhent.”
He nodded. “Very good.”
She rolled her eyes.
Hecate coughed, her grin evident. “Yes, well, let’s talk, shall we? Khent brought you here because the remains of a dark presence have resurfaced at the bazaar. The same dark magic used when Sebastian Castle tried to create abominations has returned.”
Khent added, “Since Sebastian Castle is dead, and the dark one’s marker remains, you are our only tie to that stain on this realm.”
“How am I tied to this?”
“It’s death magic, Valentine. You’re the only necromancer in the city.”
She shoved two more grapes into her mouth, starving and surprisingly awake. She’d been getting her days and nights all mixed up since coming back to the city to put their big plan into action. “Now hold on. I can’t be the only necromancer in the city.”
“But you are.” Hecate sighed and sat at the counter next to Val. “Unfortunately, the magir community hasn’t changed much since they started shuttling necromancers to the far ends of the earth.”
“You mean killing them all,” Val corrected.
“That or sending them to hell.” Khent shrugged. “The result is the same. Death magic has become extremely rare.”
“Still. I can’t be the only one here.” That made her sad, that her kind had so little standing they continued to be considered fair game by fellow magic users. “I can tell you I’m not the only one.”
“Ah, yes.” Khent nodded. “Did you also catch the whiff of necromantic magic on the hell-threader and dark elves before you ran away?” He watched her, his eyes intense. “With your gargoyle friend?”
“Hey, I didn’t call the dead spider or the fae into existence. And yes, I did run away, and I’m proud of it. I don’t know if you could tell, but the scent on the elves was all wrong.”
“Of course I could tell.” He sounded offended she’d doubt him. “The stain of evil was strong. It was the same scent of darkness that came from whoever Sebastian Castle was working with when he tried conjuring hellspawn out of dead lycans and berserkers.”
She cringed. “Lucky someone stopped them.”
“Someone?” Khent scoffed. “The Night Bloode?—”
“To include Riley, previously of the Crimson Claw pack, now a part of the Night Bloode,” Hecate clarified. More for Khent than Val, Val guessed.
“Of course, let’s not forget Riley.” He sounded less than gracious.
“I had nothing to do with any of that,” Val said before they could somehow accuse her of being a part of that insane plot. She stared from Hecate to Khent and decided to take the plunge. “But I think I know who did.”
“Yes, do tell us.” Khent leaned forward.
“He’s the most powerful necromancer on the planet. He’s been around for centuries, and he won’t stop until he’s amassed enough power to dominate everyone in his path.”
“Big dreams for a human,” Khent said dismissively.
“And that’s why he just might defeat you.” Val glared. “You ‘higher’ magir—and I’m using air quotes, Khent,” she snapped. “You always underestimate humans. Well, the necromancer has lived a lot longer than any human should. He’s growing in power, devouring the magic of other necromancers, shifters, anyone with a hint of magic. And he’s set his sights on the bazaar.”
Hecate and Khent exchanged a look Val couldn’t read.
Hecate said, “You need to tell us the necromancer’s name and everything you know about him, Val.”
“I will.” She paused, putting her life on the line. “On one condition.”
Khent pushed forward, his eyes icy. “You will tell us, or you will die.”
“Then kill me.” Val stood.
