I braced my arms on the wooden sill. Outside, a harvest moon hung low in the night sky. In the moonlight, I could see the entire town was crammed with people. The thin, winding streets, the rickety wooden buildings, even the pushcarts… Every free patch of ground was inhabited by mages in purple robes, all of them holding candles. I shielded my eyes against the glass, trying for a better look. The mages all had the images of the skeletons on their skin.
These were the ghosts I’d raised and placed into bodies on the battlefield.
The scene was almost beyond belief. I shook my head. “They’re still alive and waiting for me.”
“They’ve been here for the last two weeks,” said Rowan. “It’s all a vigil for your health and survival.”
“A vigil for me.” I rubbed my eyes. This must be a dream. Somehow, I’m still asleep and recovering from my battle with the Tsar. No matter how I rubbed my eyes, the vision from my window didn’t change. Bit by bit, the crowd’s chant grew more clear.
“Tsarina. Tsarina. Tsarina.”
With a gasp, I stepped away from the windowsill. Tsarina. They thought I could rule the Necromancers? I was a farm girl. “I’m not their leader. That should be Petra.”
Rowan moved to stand beside me. Moonlight outlined his profile as he gazed out the window. “They seem to disagree. I’ve been where you are now. They won’t let you go.” His gaze intensified. Once again, I could imagine his thoughts as clearly as if they were my own.
I won’t let you go, either.
My insides twisted into knots. “And we—” I gestured between Rowan and me. “Any kind of relationship simply isn’t possible. Not after what happened.”
“I understand.” Rowan’s body heat radiated against me. I was torn between wanting to push him away and needing to lean in closer. He slowly raised his hand and ran his fingertip along my jawline. Everywhere he touched I felt a rush of warmth.
By the Sire. I wanted him, but I could never have him. Which was why I needed to walk away.
Yet I stayed rooted to the spot.
“You need time to heal.” Rowan trailed his hand around to the back of my neck, his fingers brushing up and down the base of my skull. “And I can be patient.” His rough voice lowered an octave. “But make no mistake, Elea. This isn’t over.” He started to lean forward.
Don’t let him kiss you, Elea. He’s a liar. You’re a strong Necromancer. Push him away.
I couldn’t. One last kiss didn’t seem like a terrible idea.
A knock sounded on the door, breaking the moment. Coming back to my senses, I took a huge step away from Rowan. His gaze never wavered from mine. His last words seemed to hang in the air between us.
“This isn’t over.”
Quinn stepped into the room. Sure, I knew from looking out the window that the Necromancers I’d raised were still nearby, yet seeing one in the flesh? My mouth fell open. Quinn looked just as he had when I’d first conjured him on the battlefield. The image of the skeleton inside him was still painted on his face in purple. His shaved head and scarred face were just as they’d been in life.
When he saw me standing, Quinn immediately fell to his knees. “Tsarina.”
All the blood drained from my face. “You’re still alive.”
“We all are.” He kept his gaze locked to the floor.
“Quinn.” I tugged on the shoulder of his robes. “Please, get off your knees.”
Quinn rose, a large smile brightening his scarred face. “You look fit and well. Genesis Rex said he’d heal you, and he did.”
“Yes, well, I’m healed now.” This was all beyond overwhelming. I’d raised thousands of Necromancers from the dead, and now one of them was in my bedroom. “You can take your leave.”
Quinn straightened his stance. “Where would you have us all go, Tsarina?”
My eyes widened. He thinks I’m giving him orders to head out. “That wasn’t what meant. Those weren’t orders to go anywhere. I’m not your Tsarina.”
Quinn frowned. “Of course, you’re not.”
I sighed. “Thank you.”
Quinn’s face took on a dreamy look. “No, you’re far more than a Tsarina. Perhaps you would like us to address you as something else? A deity perhaps?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” I said quickly. “Tsarina will be fine for now.”
Until I can get you under Petra’s rule.
Rowan leaned against the wall and hitched his left leg across the right. His gaze met mine, and a look of sympathy flashed across his face. His words echoed through my mind.
“I’ve been where you are now. They won’t let you go.”
My eyes narrowed as I considered my options. All in all, there was really only one thing to do. If they wanted me to be their Tsarina, I’d simply command them to march on off. “I wish you all to travel to the Zelle Cloister. My old Mother Superior, Petra, is waiting for you. She’ll assess your skills and train each of you into achieving your full potential as a Necromancer.”
“Quite wise,” said Quinn. “You’ll want to train us as your army.”
“No, no armies.” My voice came out harsher than I thought. “All of you going to the Zelle Cloister to learn. That’s my only wish.”
Quinn tilted his head, confused. “You’re not going with us?”
“Not now. I’ll come and visit as soon as possible.”
Quinn’s jaw fell slack. “So, who is to lead us?”