Little Saint Bride [Death and the Maiden, #1]

Chapter Thirty Four: A City of Shades

Media: The necromancer's mask. What is it used for...?

The air cools down approximately one hundred degrees as I step outside my husband's bedroom.

My mind ignores the inner torment of my shyer self, who is freaking out about the fact she very nearly gave her husband an unexpected visit downstairs. Energy thrums through my body, and I don't want to waste a second of it thinking of what may have been. But even I notice how much cooler I feel away from that environment where I'd wanted to strip off all of my clothes. 

I make sure to shut the door with a snap; if Hadrian yells to escape before I return, it's less likely anyone will hear him. It also finalises my decision, so that I'm less likely to return. Get going, I chide myself, when I notice a blond and tanned figure is leaning against the wall nearby.

'Mercer? You waited for me?'

He jumps out of his skin when he sees me, and it takes me a moment to realise that my face is covered by a mask. I pull it up, so that it sits like jaunty hat on my head. Seeing my face, Mercer relaxes.

He's changed out of his angelic white clothes, into something slightly grungier: a black waistcoat over a white shirt, and slim black trousers. Quick change artist, an irrelevant voice in my head pipes up. Mercer approaches me warily, no doubt remembering that the last time he met me in this state, I'd dragged him up a waterfall in reverse. 

'Of course I waited,' he quips back, and I  find that a grin splashes across my face at his own smile. 'What would you do without me to hold your bags?'

We both laugh, because it's a little true. Mercer must be the worst guide in the Underworld, but he makes a great squire. 

'Plus,' he lowers his voice, 'Jefferson tried to come and talk to me. Think he realised that if I was back, you would be too.'

I groan. The thought of dealing with puns in my energetic state is alarming. 'Let's go,' I agree, grabbing him by the arm. He catches on quickly, and we hurry up the stairs, out of Hadrian's shady basement, and into the hallways above. 

'There's so many people!' breathes Mercer, as we stare into the empty corridor. 

My mouth flops open. To me, the corridor is utterly silent. 'You can see the Shades?'

According to a book we'd read in the library, the Shades are the retinue of the Death Lord, Hadrian, in his Underworld Court. To all but necromancers, they, like human souls, cannot be seen during the daytime. But it was exactly what I'm supposed to be training to see; Step One of "Being a Necromancer: Seeing the Souls of the Dead". Of course, I'd skim read it, but I got the gist that Shades are souls. They're remnants of humans that were alive, their souls passed on. Instead of passing beyond the waterfall as most souls do, humans that were more perceptive or spiritual in life can enter the Underworld's court, where they guide the souls of the dead. 

It all sounds very beautiful, but I'm still stumped as to why Mercer can see them. From the looks of it, so is he.

'Hadrian said you aren't a necromancer,' I murmur, thoughtful. 'But I don't understand why that is...'

Mercer looks down at his hands. 'Chronus told me that we were special because our souls were pure, and therefore we became one of the members of his court, the Afterlife.'

'By the reaper!' I swear. 'That makes a lot of sense.' With Mercer tied to Chronus, he couldn't attain necromancy. But, being a retinue of Chronus', but not a Shade, not a necromancer...was Mercer now elevated to God status?

Blinking at him, I frown. He doesn't look any different. Certainly, no glowing halo. And no cheesy angel wings. For now, I won't tell him my theory.