Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,26

on his shoulder was equally still.

Darien looked back at Grim. Even the cat stood like a statue, beyond an incessant twitching of the tip of his tail.

They’ve gone somewhere else.

He remembered the ghost removal, on the banks of the shining river. He’d bet his last dime that they were in a place like that now. And he was left behind, like a lump, safe behind green flames. Unless Silas loses. Any bets on how safe you’ll be then?

Glancing around, he searched for a weapon. If I had a knife I could throw it at Crosby. Or maybe I can go over and hit him on the head while he’s elsewhere. But the space around him was empty of anything bigger than a set of chalks, laid out on the slate floor. He’d have winged one at the crow, just to see what happened, but what if it was one Silas needed later? Or what if throwing it through the green broke the spell?

Darien bent closer to the lines on the floor, wondering if he could retrace the path he’d come in by and punch Crosby right in the perfect snoot. The flickering flames, rising and falling, didn’t reveal any safe path forward.

Don’t be an idiot. He was pretty sure his crossing through the doorway to the garden had let Crosby into the house. He wasn’t stupid enough to break Silas’s spells twice.

What can I do? Stand here like baggage waiting to be claimed? He fucking hated that option.

Find my way in there? He tried to remember what Silas had done to bring him into that otherworld before. Touched him, muttered some words. He had no clue how to do a spell. Reaching out, he let his hand hover over Silas’s wrist. But what if I distract him?

A loud snap and crackle marked a flash of white fire from Crosby slicing deeper through the green toward them. Silas shuddered as if struck.

Dammit! What do I do?

Suddenly Grim launched himself up from the floor, knocking Darien into Silas. “Help him!”

Darien caught himself on Silas’s strong shoulders. “I don’t know how!”

“Touch his skin, ignoramus. Go deep.” Grim crouched and froze again, glittering eyes gone distant.

Go deep. That made no sense but touching skin he could do. He slid behind Silas, where he’d do the least harm, and stared at the bare stretch of Silas’s neck. At the last second, instead of fingers, he stood on his toes and pressed his lips there.

Fire slammed into him. The world was gone in a wash of light and heat. His eyes watered and he clung to Silas’s tall body, as waves of flame washed over him. Then just as suddenly the inferno was gone.

He found himself in a twilit space, pressed up against Silas who stared out into the darkness, a neon green whip in either hand.

Silas gasped, “Darien?” To Darien’s shock, Silas turned his head and kissed him, hard and hot and wet and so swift he had no time to react before he was shoved back with a sharp elbow. “Down!” Silas lashed out with one of the whips. There was an explosion of dark feathers, black against the navy sky, and the bird veered off with a harsh cry.

At their feet, Grim said, “Incoming. Five o’clock.”

Darien backed up a step, running a shaking hand across his lips. He half expected to vanish back home when he lost touch with Silas, but nothing changed. Silas’s whipcrack over their heads brought down another bird in a fluttering heap and Grim jumped on it, breaking its neck in a single snap. The body convulsed and vanished.

A crack of lightning struck from the sky far above, actinic white and jagged. Silas caught it in a desperate whip-flick, channeling it down the green lash and into the ground. The whip dimmed for an instant, then steadied. Silas’s breathing went harsh, then steadied too.

Darien knelt beside Grim and whispered, “What can I do? How do I help?”

“He needs power. Those ghosts you carry. They can feed him.”

With bits of me! But another lightning strike rebounded off Silas’s lash and hit the ground a dozen feet away, sending a spray of smoky pebbles their direction. “Okay. Sure.” He eyed Silas. “How? Can he take time to—”

“No.” Silas’s tone was rough. “I don’t have time or leisure to feed. After I win, I’ll replenish from them. Thank you.”

“After you win.” Grim coughed. “Need to do a bit more than defend to win, boss.”

“I’m wearing him down.” Silas moved both whips to