Scorched Shadows (Hellequin Chronicles #7)

“What the hell happened?” I asked, and took a second to look around the room. There were three tables in the center of a large morgue, but only the middle one was occupied. The body on the table belonged to one of the attackers. The skin of his arms and chest had been clawed open, and there was a hole where his heart should have been.

Remy and Nabu stood against the far side of the room with Selene and Zamek beside the table. Morgan sat on a chair next to the row of a dozen drawers that had been built into one wall. Each drawer was made of silver and had various runes etched into it. Sometimes things went in them that wanted to come out.

I focused on Irkalla, who was still unconscious on the floor. “What happened?” I asked, crouching beside them.

“We don’t know,” Selene said.

“We don’t have any other necromancers on staff,” Grayson told me. “I need you to figure out what’s going on.”

I stood and glanced between Irkalla and the dead man. I hadn’t used my necromancy much except to take souls to charge my magic. It allowed me to become incredibly powerful, but it only worked on people who had died in battle, and I couldn’t use that power to do a lot of the smaller, more power-demanding feats that people like Irkalla and Hades could.

I found out a few years ago that Mother had been a Valkyrie by the name of Brynhildr. From my research into the species, I discovered that they were able to channel their necromancy to make them faster, stronger, quicker at healing, all things I, too, was capable of. I could also create soul weapons—physical manifestations of my power, which when used against someone destroyed their soul, not their physical body. None of which was even remotely useful in the current circumstance.

I activated my necromancy and reached out for the spirit of the deceased attacker and immediately stopped when I felt my power tugged between both the dead man and Irkalla. My vision changed, and I saw Irkalla’s spirit as it reached out and touched the darkness surrounding the dead attacker. I reached out with my necromancy to touch the darkness, but the second it made contact, a wave of power crashed over me. “Oh shit,” I said, switching off my power as I fell to the floor. I rolled to the side and vomited into a nearby bin.

“What is it?” Nabu asked.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and lay back on the cool floor. I tried to get the image I’d seen right in my head so I could explain it. When I no longer felt nauseous, I sat up. “Irkalla’s spirit is trapped. She reached out to the corpse, trying to get a read on his spirit, but it was a trap, and the second her power touched his spirit, it snapped shut like a bear trap. She struggled, and it began to tear out her spirit, forcing it partly into the darkness that now surrounds the body. I don’t even understand what that is. I don’t know how it was done, or how to stop it.”

“There has to be a way,” Morgan said.

“Maybe, but it’s far beyond the power I have. I can try to take the darkness into myself, I can try to absorb whatever remains of his spirit, but doing so might mean taking Irkalla’s spirit, too. I don’t know if I can untangle them. I don’t even know if trying will kill her. We need Sky or Hades—both of them are vastly more experienced than I am.”

“And both are unable to help,” Nabu said, kneeling beside me. “You’re here, Nate. You’re all we have. Hades is in Canada, and Sky is trying to make sure Tartarus isn’t a target. Neither will get here soon enough.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure I have the . . .” I stopped and sighed. “I’m going to pass out for a few minutes. I’d really appreciate it if no one panics.”

A few people in the room shared nervous glances. “You’re going to pass out?” Zamek asked. “On purpose?”

“Are you sure?” Remy asked. He was leaning up against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. “This isn’t a great idea.”

“Do you know what he’s going to do?” Morgan asked Selene.

Selene stared at me. “You’re going to talk to your nightmare, aren’t you?”

I nodded.

“Have you lost your mind?” Zamek asked. “Nightmares are bad. They take control of sorcerers, and they kill people. They kill the sorcerer.”

“Not quite,” Mordred corrected. “I don’t believe that’s true. Mine certainly didn’t kill me; it protected me. I think we’ve been lied to for a long time about what they do.”

Zamek looked between me and Mordred. “You’re both nuts.”

“They’re telling the truth,” Grayson said. “Nightmares aren’t a threat. Their default behavior is to protect the sorcerer. It’s why so many of them attack; they lash out because they feel threatened, or the sorcerer was scared when the nightmare took control. If Nate remains calm, there’s no reason for the nightmare to do anything other than help. It’s Nate’s power amplified. The nightmare taps into that potential and, in theory, could make Nate powerful enough to do this.”

“Or he could go crazy and try to kill us all,” Zamek said.

I shared a glance with Mordred. Was this the moment the Fates were talking about? Was this the moment the Fates warned us of?

“Mordred,” I started. “I want you to—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “If this is the Fates’ prophecy, I’ll make sure to stop it before it starts.”

Tommy’s growl echoed around the room. “You will not kill him,” he said slowly.

“Tommy,” I said, my voice calm and soft. “If we’re wrong and this nightmare becomes a concern, it needs to be stopped.”

“Are you certain the nightmare isn’t a threat?” Tommy asked Grayson.

“I was there when the pact was made to keep it secret from the world,” Grayson said. “I was there when Cronus, Rhea, Amaterasu, Tsukuyomi, Susanoo, Odin, Nergal, Ra, Seth, and a dozen more made the decision; any sorcerer accepting their nightmare was to be considered a danger to all living things and delivered a death sentence. A few discovered how to accept their nightmare, to control it. Most hid this information from the world around them, escaping their death sentences. Zeus, Hera, Merlin, and a few others managed to accept their nightmares, but most sorcerers who accepted their nightmares were hunted down and executed.”

“Why?” Zamek asked.

“It was a way to manage the power levels of sorcerers,” Grayson said. “It was a way to ensure that no one could activate their nightmare without the proper training. If you break a sorcerer’s mind before allowing the nightmare to take control, you have a monster on your hands. A monster that does not recognize friend from foe. Some people discovered that they could manipulate a nightmare to turn it into a weapon to be used against their enemies. A lot of people died before that pact was made. A lot more died after, too, but it was deemed an acceptable loss. The law was flawed. Not all nightmares are evil.”

“So, nightmares are good, so long as the sorcerer is of sound mind?” Zamek asked.

“That about sums it up, yes,” Grayson said. “Otherwise you have a death machine on your hands.”

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