Matt’s hand fell on Sloane’s left shoulder, then her right, so she was looking at him. She needed a benzo. She needed a mother who didn’t suck. She needed to be home.
“I can’t,” she said again, this time only to Matt.
“I know,” Matt said, nodding. “Me either, Sloane. Except I think we might have to.”
Sloane looked over Matt’s shoulder at Aelia. Asking her a question without asking.
“It is a huge feat, to send or summon between universes,” Aelia said. “We will only be able to accomplish it once more, to send you home. Which our urgent need compels us to do only after we have received your help.”
“So you kidnapped us,” Esther said, “and now you’re holding us prisoner until we help you.”
Aelia looked down, didn’t answer.
“Just wanted to be sure I was clear on the situation.” Esther sounded bitter but tremulous.
Sloane looked over Matt’s shoulder at the stripe of darkness in front of her flanked by intact buildings, cheerfully lit. An entire city block, obliterated. Aelia had brought them here to gain their sympathy, Sloane was certain. Show them a tangible sign of the destruction they were dealing with. This is just the beginning, this place said, of the horrors I will show you.
It’s a simple choice, my dear, the Dark One had whispered.
Sloane tasted bile.
“I am sure you need time to process all of this,” Aelia said. “We have prepared rooms for you to stay in while you’re here. We can speak again tomorrow, after you’ve rested.”
Esther reached for Sloane’s hand and squeezed it gently. She felt warm and steady and familiar. They had fought side by side before, in situations they thought they would never escape. Sloane remembered the two of them staying up to keep watch, their spines pressed together as they each watched a different horizon.
Sloane let the heat of her friend draw her back to herself. She knew how to do this. Knew how to search dark landscapes for enemies, how to fall only half asleep, how to booby-trap a house with a jar of marbles, how to march inexorably toward a single end and a near-certain doom.
It was like a dance, and she would never forget the steps.
EXCERPT FROM
Life and Death: Scholars on the Resurrectionist and His Army
by Garret Rogers
From “The Possibility of the Impossible: An Interview with Marwa Daud, Professor of Magical Theory (University of Chicago)”
DAUD: Magic has confronted us all with many utter impossibilities made possible. But thus far it obeys certain rules. A person cannot, for example, make herself fly through the air like a bird or conjure food out of nowhere. Up until the emergence of the Resurrectionist, we believed that bringing the dead to life was another one of those limits. But the Resurrectionist’s army is, as I’m sure you know, composed of individuals that appear to be corpses. Yet they walk, talk, and even produce magic themselves on occasion. How can this be? How can this terrorist raise an entire army when the world’s most talented magic-users cannot reanimate anything larger than a housecat? Is he—assuming the Resurrectionist is a he—that much more powerful than the rest of us?
ROGERS: A housecat—you’re referring to the experiment by the German Franz Becker about five years ago?
DAUD: Yes, Becker. He was a brilliant scientist. So tragic that he was able to bring his recently deceased pet cat back to life only for the act to kill him shortly thereafter. He is a fine example of what I am saying, which is that other people have indeed tried to raise the dead. Magic is still relatively new, so I am not positing that no one else ever will walk in the Resurrectionist’s footsteps, but it seems to be a long way off. That doesn’t mean that we can’t learn something from his army in the meantime. Quite the contrary—on a theoretical level, his army is significant. Outliers and anomalies are always central to my thinking, because they expand our understanding of theory—the practical informing the possible. That giving some form of life to the dead is even possible tells us something important about the nature of magic itself. About its origin or perhaps about the way we use it. The Resurrectionist is alone in his ability, for now, but why? Does he have access to a particular magic source or channel? Is his enhanced ability innate, instinctual, or is it learned? All of these answers, when found, will tell us something profound about magic.