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

Chapter Thirty Nine: Three Faced Witch

And I pull on the necromancer's mask.

The world, now focused, turns to grey. Around me, my awareness has heightened: black and white with streaks of red, all throughout the distance.

I let out a gasp.

Before me, a red thread binds Nate to the grassy earth.

I check, first, with my mother. Her own red thread, glowing brightly, leaves a glowing trail behind her, fading with distance, but leaving a trace. It's only Nate's, the dead, that has a fixed red thread, its light faded and worn. Instinctively, it feels wrong. 

I look down: where was my own thread? I can't see it. But there's a feeling around my neck that I've not felt before, and my hands rise slowly to touch it.

Beneath my fingers, I feel a warm, pulsing thread around my neck.

Necromancer.

Feeling strangely confident, I reach out to Nate's red string. Between my fingers, it's cool and thread-like, contrasting the warm life of my own. I know what to do. 

Nate's thread is easy to break.

His face changes, and my heart, for a second, stops. He's gone still. I whip off the mask, terrified that I've done it wrong, that I've accidentally hurt him...

...but then he smiles. The world, no longer grey, bursts into colour. 

'I can't feel the pull anymore,' he whispers, his voice joyous. 'Nessie, what did you do? It was like a chain that kept me here. It's gone.'

'Great,' I say cheerily, trying not to show evident relief, 'Well, now that's sorted—'

The air crackles.

Shit is the first word that springs into mind.

When the sky turns black, I start to panic. Darkness, as if the sun had been plucked from the sky, unfurls like a cloak, slamming us all into confusion. From the nearby city, I hear screams and shouts. Nate's face stands out against the sky, shocked and afraid, as lightning flashes behind him.

Then, if possible, he turns paler.

'Ness— she's coming! The one who— the one who— using my body...'

He's jabbering on about something, but then it thunders, a loud growl erupting from the sky that blocks out his words.

'What are you talking ab—' I begin, but I'm cut off by a wall of rain and wind.

The one who used my body. Nate's words take me sharply back to that day— that nightmare— where I had encountered a body of my brother without a soul.

I'd had to decapitate him and shred him to ensure he didn't return.

So, my mother and the Spring Court killed my brother. But now I also know: someone else was responsible for bringing him back.

My knuckles crack instinctively as the sky flickers briefly; a flash of lightning, a rumble of thunder.

Then, there's a fourth figure in this mess.

One second, and it's just a bleary, dark sky. Then, with the white lightning blinding me, a shadow cuts before the light in a humanoid form.

The flickering of the lightning gives the girl an eerie look. She stretches her limbs out, like a preening gazelle. She's oddly beautiful, in a way that reminds me of morbid curiosity; I know she's lethal, but I'm going to stare anyway.

And truly, she's a sight to be stared at. A long, lean, muscular body bound by material that looks like moonlight, and skin the colour of burnt ash. Her lips are darker than her hair, but both silhouette against her body. A silver crown of pale leaves adorns her hair, crossing her forehead.