I stood and stared at the spot where my mother had been as Erebus appeared beside me. “A lot to take in?”
“She told me things I didn’t know, about you. All sorcerers have nightmares—that’s well known—but people like Mordred and I aren’t normal sorcerers. Aren’t normal anything. So, you’re not a normal nightmare. Were you created as a separate entity and placed inside of me? Did you merge with the nightmare who was already there?”
“Sort of.”
“Explain.”
“Later. You need to save your friend. Time isn’t infinite here, and sooner or later you’ll be forced back into your world.”
“Are you going to take control of me? Use my power better than I can?”
“No, you can do this without my intervention. We both know that. You’re down to your last physical mark, so I’m not sure whether asking me to take control is a good idea. Once a nightmare takes full control, you’re going to be out of it for a long time, and if I do this now, you’ll be of no use to anyone. You can’t risk the mark vanishing as I take control. Not now.”
It wasn’t the response I’d been expecting. “Who are the seven devils? My mother mentioned I was created in the same way, but I’ve never heard of them.”
Erebus laughed. “You always were persistent. Of course you have. Everyone with even a passing knowledge of pop culture will know of them. There are a thousand movies, films, video games, TV shows, and books about them. They’re everywhere. You probably know them better as the seven Princes of Hell.”
I was about to say something else when I was dumped out of my mind and back to reality. Everyone stared at me as I blinked several times before trying to sit up.
“How long was I gone?” I asked.
“You fell to the floor about four seconds ago,” Remy said. “What happened?”
I got back to my feet. “Long story, but I think I know how to separate Irkalla from whoever this guy is. I’m going to need power. A lot of power. I’m also going to need all of you to leave.”
There were some odd looks exchanged around the room. “You sure?” Grayson asked.
I nodded.
“You okay?” Remy asked. “I’ve got to go help Mordred find Elaine while you lie about on the floor. Tommy, Nabu, Zamek, and Morgan left to go help with the injured. I stayed behind to make sure you didn’t blow up or something.”
I smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Be careful. Don’t go losing any more lives.”
Remy chuckled. “Thanks for killing me, by the way. Probably saved me months of pain and suffering. I know it must have been hard to do.”
“It’s everyone’s dream.”
Remy laughed. “Fuck you, Nate. Be careful out there. I don’t want to have to console Tommy; he’s weepy enough as it is.”
It was my turn to laugh as Remy left the room, and I found myself alone with Irkalla, Grayson, and Selene.
“You two need to go,” I said.
Selene came over and kissed me on the lips. “Don’t do anything too stupid.”
“Would I?”
“Every single day,” she said with a slight grin. “Bring Irkalla back to us.”
I watched her leave and started opening the silver freezer drawers, pulling out each of the trays as I went, revealing the dead they contained. I was three drawers in when I noticed that Grayson was still in the room.
“We need to have a chat when we’re done here,” I told him. “I want to know why you knew about the nightmares and never said anything. I’d also like to know how you were around in what I assume was at least ten thousand years ago.”
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but not now. We can’t have distractions while people are getting hurt.”
“Okay, but soon.”
He helped me to open the rest of the freezers and drag the bodies out on their trays.
“You should go,” I said.
He patted me on the back, and I watched him leave before activating my shadow magic. Tendrils of shadow shot up from the floor, wrapping around the dead bodies and dragging them into the now-shadow-covered floor. The effect took mere seconds as burst after burst of power flooded my body.
I placed a hand on the nearby wall to steady myself as power coursed through me. It took me a few seconds, but when I was settled, I reached out with my necromancy and saw Irkalla’s spirit trapped in the spirit snare once again. But this time instead of the usual brightness I saw in most spirits, Irkalla’s was a beautiful orange and golden color. I reached out for Irkalla’s spirit, but when I tried to pull it away, the dark-red and black mass tightened its grip.
I released my power from Irkalla and reached out to the snare. Despite the newfound level of knowledge about my necromancy, knowing something and being able to actually do it are two different things. Magic isn’t a science—it’s about power, patience, and sheer will. And when it came right down to it, necromancy was just a different form of magic, albeit one that most sorcerers were incapable of wielding.
I stepped toward the body of the attacker and pushed my hands out in front of me. My spirit began to leave my body, and for a split second I panicked and the light-blue and purple spirit almost rushed back into me before it made contact with the snare, but I managed to catch my emotions and forge onward.
Being in control of both my body and spirit at the same time was a strange sensation, a bit like rubbing your head while patting your belly, or the other way around. There was a steep learning curve to this type of power use, and I didn’t have time to practice. I either got it right the first time, or Irkalla, and possibly I, would die. No pressure or anything.
My spirit was still tethered to my body when it touched the snare, and I felt a jolt of pain, as if I’d hit a sword on stone and felt the vibrations run up my body. I pushed it aside, and my spirit began to expand. Blue and purple light wrapped around the snare as Irkalla’s own spirit cascaded over mine, mixing together.
Memories flashed into my head. Irkalla discovering that her friend had been murdered by Siris, finding her friend’s body, along with those of her friend’s family. The rage that followed was something to truly fear, as Irkalla destroyed anyone who got between her and the target of her vengeance. She’d told me that Siris had murdered someone she’d cared for, but the depth of pain and suffering Irkalla had gone through felt like a shotgun blast to my heart.
Other images, of Nergal and Gilgamesh—the latter now dead, and the former now an enemy—and of Nanshe, an old friend to us both, came to me quickly without pause, until the second my spirit had completely encompassed the snare, and then there was nothing but darkness.