“What spells?” He didn’t like the feeling of dread that settled in his chest.
She cast a glance around them all, gauging their reactions. “Necromancy.”
Shock crossed his brothers’ faces in a wave.
Cass quickly raised her hands, her palms facing him. “I never attempted it. I only know the theory. What others have done. I’ve only read notes and reports from other witches, centuries-old accounts that are probably more fiction than fact.”
Cal took a hard step towards her, a storm building in his eyes, the tips of his blond ponytail catching a breeze as he stared at Cass. “Do you think you could restore a soul into a body?”
Cass’s gaze shifted to Cal and her black eyebrows furrowed, the flicker of emotion in her eyes revealing that she knew the path of Cal’s thoughts just as Daimon did. “Maybe… but I wouldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Calistos. It’s too risky. The chances of that soul coming back… wrong… are too high.”
Keras reached out and laid a hand on Cal’s shoulder. “We will find Calindria’s soul and find a way to guide it to the Elysian Fields. That will be enough for her. She will be happy.”
Cal turned on him, his face darkening as the breeze that swirled through the room gained strength. “But if we could bring her back—”
“No.” Ares cut him off, his voice a deep growl, harder than Daimon had heard it in a long time. “Tampering with her like that… Cass is right. What if something went wrong, Cal?”
Their youngest brother blanched as the wind suddenly dropped, swallowed hard and looked at them all, his eyebrows furrowed, desperation written in every line of his face. “But…”
He didn’t seem able to finish that sentence.
He just stood there, looking between them all, a storm raging in his eyes that slowly abated, leaving his irises blue again.
He lowered his head and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologise for.” Keras touched his shoulder again, gripping it gently as he closed the distance between them. “We all want to see her again.”
Cal nodded. So did everyone else.
Daimon looked at Cass, studying her, trying to piece together what the enemy wanted with her magic. “So the enemy wants a new necromancer. It’s a good enough theory. The gates are closed to all traffic. The only ones who could perform such a role for our enemy now is a necromancer who happened to be in this world, which would be extremely rare and hard to find, or a witch. But what do they want with one? They want someone to raise the dead?”
Cass’s eyes slowly widened, a horrified edge filling them as she shook her head, causing her long wavy black hair to brush her bare shoulders. “Not raise the dead. Raise their dead. Necromancy… The magical form of it could hypothetically place the souls the enemy holds in their possession into new physical bodies. It could restore them completely. The necromancer used the souls he held as puppets, but with magic… they might be able to restore them to how they had been… independent beings under their own control.”
Marek folded his arms across his chest, his dark linen shirt tightening over his muscles. “That would be bad.”
Everyone murmured in agreement.
They had been dealing blows to the enemy, weakening them. The last thing they needed was the enemy raising their dead, strengthening their side again.
“We’ll keep Cass out of the enemy’s hands.” Daimon schooled his features, hiding the dark need to protect her that filled him, but knew he had failed to conceal it when Cass’s beautiful face softened, her eyes warming as she stared into his.
Keras turned to Cass. “Will you be all right?”
She looked at his brother and wearily nodded.
Daimon barely bit back the growl that rolled up his throat, his darker side pushing to the fore as he levelled a glare on his brother. He should have been the one to ask her that question. Instead, he had hidden his worry for her behind a veil, giving another male a chance to be the one who showed concern for her well-being.
He thought about the letter, about what he had read in it. She was promised to another. What point was there in showing her that he cared about her? He couldn’t afford to grow closer to her if she was only going to end up leaving him for another man. He wasn’t sure he would survive such a blow.
“I’m concerned about the enemy. What they said.” She sighed. “They’ve been testing other witches and it felt as if they were testing me. Those daemons hit the barrier in waves, as if they had wanted to see how much damage it could take before it would fall.”
“I think it was just a test to see how powerful your magic was, not how much damage a barrier cast by you could take before it failed.” Daimon shoved his hands into his pockets and took hold of his phone, found the pendant attached to it and held it.
It was better he kept his distance from Cass, endeavoured to keep things between them as they were, not letting his feelings grow into anything more. He would remain loyal to Penelope. He owed her that much, didn’t he?
Or was he just using her memory to keep his heart closed, to protect himself from more pain?
Ares cast a worried glance down at Megan. “I think I should take you to the Underworld.”
Megan turned on him, planting her hands on her hips at the same time. “No. You need me here. I’m not going to the Underworld. I won’t be separated from you. Not right now. Not ever.”
Her hands shifted to her baby bump and she clutched it through her jumper, shaking her head.
“I won’t go.” Her voice hitched. “I need to be here.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Ares stretched his hands out to her and she backed off
