“I’m sure it was me. I know it,” she said without a doubt.
Finja nodded slowly, then looked away. Nela waited. She didn’t know what else to say.
“It doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t change anything for me,” Finja said eventually. Nela couldn’t believe what she heard. She almost choked with relief. “Just promise me to be careful. This is dangerous stuff. If you get caught, they’ll kill you. You know that. No matter what you say, no matter what your parents do, the Brotherhood will make you burn. This is serious, Nela.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do. You told me.”
Nela frowned. “You’re my best friend. I trust you.”
Finja squeezed her hand. “You can trust me. I’d never tell anyone about what you just told me. I’d rather die.”
Nela knew that was another promise she couldn’t possibly keep. Many strong wizards and witches had broken down under torture. Today torture was generally forbidden, but there were exemptions, and Nela was sure that information about a necromancer was one of those.
Finja continued “Even though you can trust me, you texted me immediately afterward. You didn’t even think about it. You acted out of despair. You have to be more careful than that. If you want to keep this a secret, you’ll have to learn to think twice before you act. Since the killings everyone is on edge. A small error could be all it takes to get you in trouble.”
She’d never heard her friend talk like that. She sounded like a weird mix between her father and Oskar. “Are you still going to meet Darko?”
Nela had wondered about that herself. She’d changed her mind several times throughout the night. “I don’t have a choice. I need to learn how to control my magic. I can’t risk raising the saints in the Cologne Cathedral by accident.” It was meant as a joke but Finja looked like she was going to puke.
“Why has it never happened before? You’ve attended funerals, right? And you were close to the dead saints in church many times. Why now?”
“Not a funeral, no. And maybe the saints have been dead for too long. I don’t know, but ever since I got the tattoo my magic has been getting more insistent. It’s as if the magic in the tattoo has awakened my own. I worry that it’ll only get worse.”
“Maybe your body reacts differently to the tattoo because you’re a necromancer.” She rubbed her face, smearing her mascara around her eyes. Nela reached out and wiped the black stains away. Finja gave her a soft smile. “We will keep you safe. Even if that means you’ll have to keep meeting that guy. I really don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I. I think it’s strange that he even thought about testing me like that.”
“Maybe he knows more than you do.”
Nela shrugged. It was hard to get information out of Darko. “So you don’t feel a stronger urge to do magic since the Marking?”
Finja tilted her head in consideration. “Maybe a little. Sometimes when I see the tattoo in the mirror I wonder how it would be to live in a world where we can do magic whenever we wanted. But I don’t ever feel close to losing control.”
Nela envied Finja. Since last night, since getting a taste of what she was capable of, she felt even less in control than before.
***
Nela had been thinking about talking to her mother all day. Of course her parents had noticed that she was acting weird during dinner, but she’d blamed it on being sick. Nela was tired. She would probably fall asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, but she was scared of her dreams. The images of the headless cat and all the blood would certainly make an appearance.
She tiptoed out of her room, not wanting to wake her parents in the middle of the night. Only twenty-four hours ago she’d thought she was just a witch, and now suddenly she was a necromancer. Darko hadn’t tried to contact her today. She’d thought he’d try to meet her again but maybe he’d realized that she needed more time.
She’d make herself a warm glass of milk with honey and then maybe she’d find a couple of hours of more or less peaceful sleep. She was careful to stay on the right side of the stairs where the boards didn’t creak, and froze. A shadow was moving in the hallway and slipping into the living room. She ducked and quickly followed, catching a glimpse of her mother leaving the house through the door leading into their garden. What was her mother doing sneaking around at night? Was she cheating on Nela’s dad? She considered running after her mother but decided to wait. Her stomach coiling tightly with worry, she made herself a warm milk before she returned to the living room and sank down on the sofa with a good view at the terrace door.
Nela tried to stay awake but as the hand of the clock inched past two in the morning, her eyes began to feel like lead. She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she remembered was being woken by a cold breeze. She jerked up, eyes darting to the clock, which read 3:35.
Her mother let out a quiet gasp, standing stone-still in the doorway. Nela rubbed the sleep from her eyes, giving her mother time to collect herself. Slowly her mother’s rigid features relaxed and she closed the door behind her. “What are you doing up?”
She could have asked the same question. “I was waiting for you to return. I saw you leave three hours ago.”
Her mother cast her eyes down. “I need to be more careful, I guess.”
“So you’re sneaking out of the house often?”
Her mother settled on the couch beside her. After a moment Nela spoke up. “Are you cheating on dad?”
Her mother actually laughed. “I love your father. I’d never cheat on him.” From so close up, Nela could see the tiredness edged into her mother’s face. She looked unnaturally pale in the moonlight streaming in from outside.
“Then what were you doing?”
Her mother’s eyelids fluttered and she leaned back against the backrest. “I’d hoped I could keep it a secret.”
Nela’s chest tightened. That didn’t sound good.
“I’m a healer,” her mother admitted. “I’m helping people who need it.”
Nela couldn’t believe it. Her mother was secretly practicing magic – breaking the law. It was ironic that she felt more worried on her mother’s behalf than she’d ever felt for herself. “How long have you been doing it?” It couldn’t have been for long. Her mother had the tattoo. The iron released into her body would have left marks by now.
“For years,” her mother whispered.
“Years? But how?” Then it dawned on Nela. “You’re only giving out potions and herbal tinctures.”
“No. I’m casting healing spells. Many people who approach me wouldn’t survive with potions alone.”
“But your tattoo…”
Her mother smiled. “Don’t worry about my tattoo. Everything is fine.”
Suspicion flashed through Nela. Her mother must have done what Darko had told her about – removed the tattoo when she started working as a healer.
“I want to help you,” she pleaded.
“No.”
“Mom, please. I can help.”
Her mother shook her head vehemently. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t risk it.”
“But you’re risking it. Why can’t I?”
“Because you’re my daughter and I want to protect you.”
Nela considered telling her about Darko. If her mother knew, she was already putting herself at risk by learning magic from a near stranger, maybe she would reconsider her decision. But something in her mother’s expression made her decide against it; she didn’t want to worry her mother.
“Does dad know about this?” Her father would never approve of her mother going against the Brotherhood like that, but how could he not know?
Her mother tensed. “No, he doesn’t. He would worry too much. He’s got already so much on his plate with the family business.”
Nela couldn’t help but wonder if that was the only reason why her mother didn’t tell him. But how could she keep it a secret? Her tattoo would give her away, wouldn’t it? Nela didn’t even w
ant to consider that her parents did see each other naked, but they probably did. Nela wasn’t curious enough to ask her mother about that though. Her mother must have found a way to hide it from him. That was enough for Nela.
Her tattoo had almost stopped hurting by now, but the soreness still reminded her of the events of the previous night. Now more than ever, Nela knew she could trust her mother. They both broke the law. “I brought a dead animal back to life,” it burst out of her.
Her mother’s face turned into a mask of horror. “You did what?”
“I raised a dead animal,” she said. “By accident. I didn’t mean to do it.”
Her mother held her breath and pressed a hand against her lips.
“Mom?” Nela began to shake. This wasn’t the reaction she’d hoped for. She knew it was bad news, but she hadn’t expected her mother to look like her worst fear had come true. “I honestly didn’t mean to. It was horrible. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”
Her mother drew in a quick breath. “No, don’t apologize. I am sorry.”
“You? Why would you be sorry?” Maybe her mother blamed herself for having given birth to someone like Nela.
“I should have told you.” That didn’t sound good. “When you were younger, still unaware of what magic meant, you and I visited your grandmother’s grave. Back then we still lived near Boston.” Her mother’s voice had gone so quiet that Nela leaned closer to catch every word. “It was the first time I took you there. Your grandma had been dead for only a couple of weeks and when I told you that your grandma was now resting in this grave, you were terrified. I couldn’t calm you down. You threw yourself to the ground and cried and screamed, and then I heard a noise from below.” She paused. “From inside the grave.”
Nela’s eyes grew wide. “I raised my grandma?”
“I panicked,” her mother whispered. “I didn’t know what to do. The noises from the grave were growing louder.”
“What did you do? Did I return grandma to death?”
“Oh no, you were screaming. You had absolutely no idea what you’d just done. Neither had I entirely. I knew I couldn’t tell your father. It would have worried him too much, and there was nothing he could have done, so I called your Uncle.”
“I have an Uncle?”
“He is – he was a necromancer. And one of the greatest wizards. I knew he could help me. When he arrived a couple of minutes later, the ground had started shaking, but after a command from him, everything was over.”
There was so much to take in, Nela was sure her head would explode any moment. “Didn’t he tell dad?”
“No. Your father and your uncle never got along well. While your father always obeyed the laws of the Brotherhood, your uncle bent them to his will. Maybe that was why your father was so adamant about the laws. He felt like my brother had put me in danger by practicing his magic. He never forgave him for it.” She pressed her lips together. Her mother did keep a lot of things from Nela’s dad, not that Nela could really blame her. “Your Uncle tried to convince me to let him teach you how to control your magic. But I wanted to believe that this had been a one time accident, that it would never happen again, that your uncle’s curse hadn’t been passed on to you. After all, I didn’t have the ability.”
A curse? It stung to hear her mother say that.
“I was terrified. I fled from the cemetery. Your uncle tried to contact me again but I never answered.”
“Was that why you came to Cologne?”
Her mother smiled sadly. “It was the reason why I agreed to leave when your father asked me to.”
“Then why did you leave? Why did Dad want to leave?”
“A short while after the incident, the Brotherhood sentenced your uncle to death for necromancy.”
Nela paled. That could be her future, too. “So that’s why you never talk about him, because they burnt him at the stake.” Sadness flooded Nela. Her uncle could have been her chance to learn more about herself.
Bitterness swung in her mother’s voice when she spoke again. “No, that’s not why. And they only tried to burn him at the stake.”
“Tried?”
“As I said your uncle was a great wizard and an even greater necromancer. His wife had been a witch, but she’d known about him. They’d burnt her before they led him to his stake. The Grand Master of the Brotherhood told your uncle that the ashes he was standing on were his wife.”
Nela gasped. “There’s no way he could bring her back, not if all that remained of her were ashes.”
“No, he couldn’t. But they underestimated his power. Anger made him even stronger. He raised the dead from the surrounding cemeteries even as he started to burn. They freed him and killed every single spectator. He didn’t spare anyone but me. I ran away and never saw him again.”
“Why have I never heard about it?”
“It’s not something the Brotherhood likes to talk about. They were defeated, but you can find it online under Boston massacre.” Her mother shuddered. “I’ve never seen anything so horrible. There’s no worse magic than necromancy. It goes against nature. It brings out the worst in people.”
Nela wondered what that made her – a witch who was capable of such an atrocious form of magic? “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know, but many wars in South America in the last few years were supported by armies of the dead.”
“You think my uncle is behind it?”
“I think that day broke something in your uncle. To wield so much dark magic destroys you.” Her mother gripped her shoulders. “Promise me you won’t ever try to use necromancy again. It leads only into darkness. And if the Brotherhood catches you, they’ll burn you. You’re not your uncle. You can’t raise an army of dead to save you. You’d die.”
‘Would I?’ asked a part of Nela that scared her, a part of her that had been awakened the moment she’d raised the cat.
Chapter 14
The next day Nela got a text from Darko, asking her to come to his apartment that night. Her mother had avoided her gaze all day as if she was scared to look at the evil she’d raised. Nela knew her mother didn’t mean to hurt her, but every time her mother looked away, she felt like someone tore at her heart.
When Nela entered Darko’s apartment shortly after midnight, she searched the room for a sign of a dead animal. Her eyes lingered on the floor where the cat had been decapitated. Darko followed her gaze. “Yesterday was a mistake. I’m sorry. We won’t do it again. You don’t have to worry.”
She wished she could say that would have made her happy, but a tiny part of her wanted to explore the powers she’d only just discovered. She decided to ignore it. “So what are you going to teach me tonight?” She wriggled out of her coat and threw it over the couch, trying to act casual.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
“You should practice your fake smiles in front of a mirror. They aren’t very good.”
She blushed, then squared her shoulders. “I don’t have all night. Are you going to teach me magic or not?”
He gave a mock bow. “Right away.” His dark eyes danced with amusement and she had to stifle an honest smile. He came toward her. “Magic is connected to emotion. If you want to perform healing magic, or any kind of good magic really, you’ll draw the energy from positive emotions like hope, happiness.” His voice was flat, as if he was talking about something that was of no concern to him.
“And if I want to do dark magic?”
Darko tilted his head with a wry smile. “Anger, hatred, despair.” Nela shivered. His voice was like honey when he spoke the words – like they were old friends.
“What makes magic bad or good?”
“I suppose that depends on who you ask.” There was something in his dark eyes that arrested Nela. She wasn’t exactly scared of what she saw in them. She wasn’t worried he would hurt her. What worried her was that the darkness she found in his gaze stirred something in her, something she needed to keep buried
if she didn’t want to end like her uncle – or worse. She took a step closer to him, magic burning under her skin. “I’m asking you.”
“For me it’s all the same,” he said, taking a few steps back.
“I don’t believe that. You don’t seem like someone who doesn’t know when he crosses the line to bad.”
“You don’t know me.”
Nela shrugged. “I suppose I don’t.”
“Let’s try something easy,” he said suddenly. “We know you have a talent for healing magic, that’s why I want you to try to heal me. This time not by accident.”
“Okay,” Nela said slowly, her eyes wandering over his body. He was dressed in black jeans and a tight black long-sleeved shirt. A five o’clock shadow dusted his chin and cheekbones. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever seen him cleanly shaved. “You aren’t injured.”
Darko bent down and pulled his long knife from its holder.
“You can’t be serious!” Nela took a step toward him but it was too late. He ran the blade over his palm with a grimace. Dark red blood welled up and trickled down to the floor. For a moment all Nela could do was stare at the droplets of blood on the wooden floor.
“Hurry up. I’m losing blood over here.” There was lightness in his tone that felt utterly wrong. She took his injured hand and winced at how deep the cut looked. “Does it hurt?”
“I’ve had worse,” he said. “Focus on the magic in you, draw it to your fingertips.” She didn’t mention that her magic always seemed to reside in her fingertips, always ready to jump out and get her in trouble. “Then reach for a good emotion, for something that fills you with happiness, or hope. The tingling in your fingertips should grow.”
Nela thought of the day Finja and she had spent on the Christmas market last December, gorging on sugar roasted almonds, hot chocolate and crepes. Her fingertips seemed to buzz with electricity in response.
“Now try to focus your energy on what you want to do.”