Marked by Death (Necromancer #1) - Kaje Harper Page 0,9

directions, with what looked like staircases at both ends. He sprinted left in random choice.

Behind him, Silas shouted, “Darien! Stop!” but Silas was the man who’d filled his head with dead things that ate him, chewing away at bits of him, pushing him into corners in his own head.

He grabbed the post at the top of the railing and let his momentum swing him around and down the stairs in a stumbling run.

“Wait!”

The bottom was two steps away. Now which way? There was no obvious exterior door, just several ordinary ones. He jumped the last two steps and yelped as his feet hit something soft and uneven. A cat yowled, sharp daggers dug into his calf, and he was falling, off balance, and the floor came up and smacked him on the side of the head. Grim’s high voice said, “Numbskulled oaf! You could’ve killed me!” but the black that washed over him meant he didn’t have to care.

Chapter 4

Burning hells! Silas raced after Darien, hearing his footsteps clatter down the stairs ahead. Before Silas reached the top, he heard a crash and Grim howled. Silas charged down, grabbing the bottom newel post to stop himself from tripping over Darien’s huddled form at the foot of the steps.

He dropped to his knees, fumbling for a pulse under Darien’s jaw. No? Yes! There. The artery bounded in Darien’s throat more strongly than it had the last time they were like this, but his head lolled limply. Again. Damn the boy. Does he want to die on me?

Grim sat a foot away, his fur puffed on end. “Stupid fool almost squashed me flat.”

“Are you all right?”

“My reflexes are excellent. Thank you.”

Silas felt Darien’s head and neck. As if I know what I’m doing. There was no blood, and he was heartened by Darien starting to moan and stir. He put a hand on the boy’s thin back to pin him in place. “Don’t move. Does your neck hurt?”

“M’head.” Darien turned to the side and fumbled a hand to his temple. “Ouch.”

He seemed to be moving fine. Silas blew out a breath of relief, followed by a rush of anger. “What the hells were you thinking? You could have broken your damned neck.”

Darien struggled to roll further, and Silas lifted his hand enough to allow it. Darien’s russet eyes squinted at him, no doubt trying to look fierce and failing. He’s about as fierce as a collie puppy.

Darien snarled, “I was thinking I’d run fast and far from the guy who put demons in my head!”

That sobered Silas fast. “No, wait, I didn’t put them there. And they’re not demons.” I’m sure they’re not. He’d have done another quick warding, but the way Darien was scrabbling to sit up, he worried it might drive the boy to run again.

“You said you did!”

“I said it was my fault. Not my doing.” He was surprised to find that hurt. “What do you take me for?”

“A necromancer?” Darien managed to sit up, holding his head in both hands. “Explain.” His skin looked fish-belly white and he was leaning to one side.

“Let me take you upstairs first. That was quite a fall.”

“Don’t touch me!” The fury in Darien’s voice was clear, although he clutched his head harder. “Explain, or I’m out the door. Now.”

“In the snow, in your socks?” Silas held up a hand as Darien hissed like an angry cat. “Okay, all right. You sure you don’t want—”

Darien set a hand on the floor as if to push to his feet.

Grimalkin said, “Better make your confession, O Dreaded Master,” in a sarcastic tone.

Darien jolted and whipped his head around, like he’d forgotten Grim was there. His arm started to go out from under him. Silas grabbed his bicep and set him back upright, trying not to mind when Darien yanked his arm free like the touch burned him. He was such a sweet kid.

Regret tightened his throat at the reminder of the last day, when he saw twelve-year-old Darien with hair like crow feathers and a mobile face that couldn’t hide a single thought, and power shining in him already, brilliant under the surface. And what Silas had done— “Right.” Silas sat down too, hoping that looked less threatening. Maybe Grim can trip him again if he runs. Although Darien looked more likely to fall over than run anywhere.

Start with the basics. “How much do you know about magic? Practitioners?”

“What comes up in history and civics. There are a few people out there with minor magical