“This is why I was sent,” Eiva said, staring hard at Rian. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but you’ve chosen the same path as Arwel.”

“He can still make the right choice,” Halbert said. “This was his first time using his magic. Please, Eiva, give him a chance.”

Eiva frowned even harder, and she didn’t move her sword.

Rian didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want to kill someone like his brother had either. He didn’t want to be what his brother was. He knew that was a worse fate than the alternative, not that he would live long enough to see it. Rian fought back his fear, then let his magic take what it wanted from him. It didn’t hurt, but it felt strange, like something cold burrowing through the back of his right hand.

Eiva pulled her sword back and turned away. “Next time I won’t give you a second chance.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Rian said.

Eiva grimaced, sheathing her sword. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought you would be unwilling. I know it must be hard, to sacrifice something you weren’t prepared to sacrifice.” She sat by the fire.

Rian was suddenly weary. He wanted to sleep right there, where he could feel the presence of the bones beneath the ground. At the same time, he didn’t. He caught sight of the back of his hand, of the bones in the back of his hand. Only a small part had rotted away. Rian and Halbert joined Eiva at the fire.

“Why did you almost follow Arwel?” Halbert asked, sitting next to Rian. “Resisting the cost for our magic would lead you down the same path as him just as well as raising the dead.”

Rian hesitated.

Halbert sighed. “It’s alright. You were afraid of becoming like me, weren’t you?”

Rian nodded. “There’s no going back.”

“There’s no way back from the other option either,” Halbert said. “Even if Arwel turns away from Norris, he will still be what he is. You could still go back because you didn’t take the blood of the living.”

“One form of necromancy isn’t less abhorrent than the other,” Eiva said, her voice tense.

“That isn’t true,” Halbert said calmly. “The path Arwel chose will sacrifice his soul instead of his flesh. I don’t know what will be left, or if he must always kill when he feeds on the living. Sacrificing flesh for the magic is the natural thing for our magic to do. That is the cost, and the cost must be paid. Those like me don’t feed on the living. We don’t demand that someone else pay the price for us.”

Eiva sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Then maybe you are right.” It sounded like it took a lot of effort for her to say that.

Halbert looked at Rian, his face still hidden by his hood. “Soon you will truly have to choose. You will have to be certain, or you will fail.” He said nothing more for a moment. “Norris helped me let this magic into me. He wanted me to follow him, become what he became, but I refused. I only sought necromancy to get away from a deal with Mortua that she had twisted far in her favor and far from mine. When I refused to join Norris, he saw me as weak and tried to kill me. I defended myself. I had to use necromancy to stop him, and I chose not to resist the natural cost of our magic.”

“How did you defeat Norris?” Eiva asked. “Didn’t you say the Speaker of the Dead is needed for that?”

“I don’t know how much is left of Norris’s soul,” Halbert said. “I couldn’t defeat him, only seal him away, put him to sleep. The Speaker of the Dead can tell us the will of the dead, and with him on our side, they will be on our side. They could stop Arwel without damning him to nothingness.”

“Did Arwel become what he is that fast?” Eiva asked.

Rian thought about what he’d seen in the clearing in the forest of Fen. His brother’s eyes had been red after he raised the dead.

“Likely,” Halbert said. “But Rian’s magic will be powerful. It will only get stronger the more undead he becomes.”

Eiva frowned hard. “These voices of the dead… They are dead that Mortua did not allow into the land of the dead?”

“They are,” Halbert said. “I don’t know why Mortua despises necromancers, who are meant to help trapped souls move on. And I don’t know why the voices of the dead that will speak to Rian are out of Mortua’s reach. I only know what was written in Norris’s book.”

Rian didn’t know what to think of all this. Would his magic be enough to save Arwel? He didn’t have the nightmare that night, but just before he fell asleep, he heard the other voice in his head.

“You did well.”

In the morning, they continued through the forest in the direction Eiva thought the plains might be. It became only colder the further they went. It didn’t take long after that to reach the plains. There was a bit of frost on the grass, but it wasn’t snowing. It was a warm morning, despite the occasional cold breeze.

The four of them headed for the village on the plains. There were a few people out. Rian heard whispers all around them about the Sancta Knight, that maybe she could help. When they reached the other end of the village, an older man stood on the path. He was leaning on a weathered looking wooden staff.

“Are you a Sancta Knight?” he asked.

“I am,” Eiva said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The man’s shoulders relaxed. “I hope so. We were about to send word to the Sancta, but now you’re here. The gods must have heard us and answered.” He limped closer, leaning heavily on his staff. “I am the elder of this village. Come, we will talk at the inn.”

Rian, Halbert, and Eiva followed the elder to a small house. There were two tables in the main room, and both were empty. They all sat at the table near the window, which looked out at the center of the village.

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The elder frowned hard, staring at Eiva. He hadn’t even glanced at Rian and Halbert. “A spirit has been haunting the graveyard at the edge of the village, a spirit that attacked and almost killed a young man last night. Can you send this spirit to its rest?”

Eiva’s brows furrowed. “I will do what I can.”

The elder smiled. “Thank you. We will gather payment—”

“Knights of the Sancta don’t take payment,” Eiva said.

“Then you may stay at the inn for free,” the elder said. “This spirit is only seen at night.”

After the elder had left, Rian, Halbert, and Eiva went to their room to talk. The inn was one floor, with two rooms down a short hall. There was a single bed in the camped room.

Eiva looked at Halbert. “I’ve never heard of something like this happening. People usually know when it’s a wild mage attacking. They don’t blame it on spirits.”

“The souls of the dead, trapped or merely lingering, cannot touch the living,” Halbert said. “Not unless they were involved in dark magic while alive and are out for vengeance, or some other motivation.”

“We will have to risk delaying going after Arwel and Norris,” Eiva said. “I’m not leaving these people to be attacked by the spirit. If that’s what it is. And it’s troubling that it can harm the living if that’s not the usual for a ghost.”

They stayed in the room until late in the day. At sunset, they went out to the small graveyard at the edge of the village. The plains stretched on all around them, the grass golden in the light of the sunset. A low stone wall separated the graveyard from the plains. Rian felt better as soon as he sat on the burial ground. He didn’t feel as weary as he had.

The three of them sat on the ground and waited. Touching the dirt felt strangely good. Rian tried to ignore it, as well as what he sensed. He could feel the many bones buried in the ground. When the sun set, the three of them were still alone. At least, they appeared to be alone. It felt like they were being watched.

“It’s here,” Rian said.

Eiva and Halbert looked at him. The three of them got to their feet.

Eiva looked around at the graveyard, gripping the hilt of her sword but not drawing it yet. “I don’t see it.”

“Neither do I,” Rian said. “I feel a presence.” He looked at Halbert.

“I don’t feel it,” Halbert said. “As the Speaker of the Dead, it may be easier for you to sense the souls of the dead, even without using magic.”

The feeling became stronger, then a pale gray fog gathered in front of Rian, loosely in the shape of a person.

“There he is,” Halbert said, staring at the shape.

Eiva was still looking around them. “Where?”

“He’s not as corporeal as Gavin was,” Rian said, taking a step back from the ghost.

Halbert stood beside Rian. “Souls appear less corporeal the longer the body has been dead, but they will never truly fade if trapped.”

The gray fog pulled apart and faded away. Something brushed past Rian’s arm, as though someone had walked past quickly. He felt a hand on his shoulder but saw nothing there. A strange sleepiness fell over him, like a fog in his mind. He looked at Eiva and Halbert, not having meant to.

“Are you alright?” Eiva asked.

“Why have you come?” Rian asked. The voice that came out of him was lower than his. He tried to move, but he couldn’t.

“Is that normal?” Eiva asked Halbert quietly.

“The dead are supposed to speak to him, not through him…” Halbert said just as quietly.

Eiva took a slow step closer to Rian. “Did you hurt a young man last night?”

The low voice spoke through Rian again. He couldn’t stop it. “I am bound to this world. I was bound by a man in a dark gray cloak. There was another with him, but he did not speak.”

“What Norris used to bind the spirit must have been very dark magic,” Halbert said.

“I am angry,” the spirit said though Rian. “I don’t know why. They wanted to set a trap for you. End you, and I am free.”

“We might be able to help you, without violence,” Eiva said.

The fog left Rian. Something rushed past him. Before he could warn Eiva, the knight was thrown to the ground, her head barely missing a grave marker. The call of ravens rang out overhead. Four ravens swooped in, talons reaching for the fog. The ravens passed through the gray fog, squawking loudly before flying away. Eiva got to her feet, drawing her sword. The blade glowed with a warm light. She struck at the fog just as it disappeared again, but nothing happened.

Rian glimpsed movement to Eiva’s left. He grabbed the fog, reaching out with his magic, willing the soul to move on. The fog briefly solidified into a transparent man before fading away into nothing. That had felt right, more than anything Rian had done before. Cold burrowed in the back of his right hand as more of it rotted away.

“Is it gone?” Eiva asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

“The soul moved on,” Halbert said. “Something called those ravens here.”

Eiva looked away. “It wasn’t intentional.” The light had gone from her sword. She slid it back into its sheath.

“Magic shouldn’t be used unintentionally,” Halbert said. “It could be dangerous to you and anyone nearby.”

“It hardly ever happens,” Eiva said quickly. “It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

They stood in silence for a moment.

“What was that light?” Rian asked.

Eiva smiled. “Sometimes Vitir lends me his strength. At least, he is who I call upon during battle.”

“Mortua will not aid you as long as you travel with necromancers,” Halbert said.

Eiva sighed. “I had suspected that. I’ll let the village elder know the spirit is gone, then I’ll meet you at the inn.”

“Go ahead to the inn,” Halbert said to Rian. “I need to rest on burial ground tonight.”

Rian went back to the inn, sitting at a table. Eiva joined him a moment later. The innkeeper brought the two of them food and water. They were still the only ones there other than the innkeeper. Rian didn’t eat much. He was still thinking of what the spirit had said. Norris had bound that spirit, had intended for it to kill them. He knew Rian and the others were out to stop him and Arwel.

Eiva said nothing while they ate. Rian lay awake that night. He didn’t like the feeling he’d had in the graveyard when the soul spoke through him. The feeling someone was using him as a puppet. He hoped that wouldn’t happen again.