THE SUN WAS setting by the time the trolley deposited me near the city gates. I made my way back through the old district, heading for the Emperor’s cruiser, wondering if Nedra would be waiting for me.
If she ran, disappearing into the busy streets of Miraband, she would be safe.
The Emperor would know I’d aided her, though. The captain would surely tell him of my bribe. And then what? I wondered what kind of punishment the captain would face for helping me. I paused, blanching, realizing that surely I would be punished even more than he would. Enabling a necromancer’s escape from judgment was surely greater treason than any my father had committed. Would I hang? Then what would happen to the trade commission I’d just earned? Would the entire north suffer because one woman had run for her life?
“Hello.” Nedra emerged from an alley near the edge of the dock.
Here she was before me, ready to go home, and even if it cost me my own life, a part of me wished she’d chosen to save herself instead.
“It’s almost dark,” Nedra added when I didn’t speak. The captain had told me the ship would leave as soon as it was able, even if we departed in the night. The docks were flooded with lamplight, and navigating by the stars made it easier to set the course for home.
Nedra touched my elbow, pulling me back to the present. “I still have some of your money, if I need another bribe to board the ship.”
Before I could answer, a deep voice spoke from the shadows. “No need.” The captain stepped out onto the dock.
Nedra spun around to face him. “Were you following me?”
“Nedra, don’t assume—”
“Yes,” the captain said. He nodded toward the boat. “The Emperor would not approve of me having taken you here,” he said, “but no harm done, as long as I ensure you come back.”
Nedra scowled, but, surprisingly, she didn’t protest. As the captain led the way back to the ship, she had an inscrutable, contemplative look on her face, as if she were only now seeing the captain for the first time.
The captain didn’t speak again until we were in our cabin on the ship. “The same deal still stands,” he told me. “My men won’t like seeing her aboard, and it’s best if as few people as possible know about our transaction.”
As soon as he’d shut the door behind him, Nedra dropped the crucible on the bed, pacing the wooden floor much like I had done before we left Lunar Island. “There’s something I’m missing,” she said. “I feel like I’m always being watched now, like someone already knows what I’m going to do next before I’ve even decided to do it.”
“I . . . take it that you didn’t find what you were looking for?”
“Not exactly,” she said shortly.
I could tell there was something else wrong, something she was holding back.
“On the bright side,” I said, “my mission was a success. I got the trade commission!”
Nedra paused. It seemed to take several moments for my words to sink in, but then she lit up. “Really?” she said. “I know I had my doubts, but—”
“I’m returning home with a production order. And a promise of more orders to come if our exports take off.”
Nedra’s brow furrowed. “A new export means a new factory,” she said.
“One built in the north, with workers treated ethically.” If the council were solely in charge, I’d worry that the southern politicians would keep the profits in Northface Harbor. But the Emperor’s plans mandated the factories be developed in the north, and that the profits be used for public services in Hart and the villages.
“More jobs, greater income . . .” Nedra continued.
“And more taxes on sales,” I added, “which can be used for more schools or structural improvements to villages.”
“Grey,” Nedra said, her voice ringing with pride. “This really might change everything.”
A whistle blared and the ship lurched into motion—the captain was making good on his promise of a fast journey.
“My trip was successful as well,” Nedra said. She knelt in front of the large copper crucible, using her blood key to open it. I noticed more books, but also a silver box, about the length of my forearm and banded with copper.
“What is it?” I asked, sitting down opposite Nedra as she withdrew the silver box.
“Locked. But look at the runes.”
I peered at the box. I’d been so distracted by the embossed skulls at the corners that I hadn’t noticed the intricate, stylized runes that littered the surface. Life and death and the eternal cycle.
“What’s inside?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” There was an odd tone to Nedra’s voice, one that sounded reverent to my ear. I sat back on my heels. When I didn’t say anything else, Nedra met my eyes. “I’ve got some new books, too. I’m hoping—” She glanced away, a coquettish look on her face that young ingénues usually reserved for their paramours. “Maybe there really is a way to replenish a soul. There’s so much still to learn,” she added, touching her iron crucible. Her smile held close-hearted secrets.
“There’s a reason for that,” I said, my voice flat. “It’s because you’re not supposed to know everything about necromancy. Let alone practice it.”
Nedra rolled her eyes.
I heaved out a breath. All the week previous, we’d been able to pretend that Nedra wasn’t a necromancer. She hadn’t found anything in the books Bunchen had given her, and we’d found other ways to occupy ourselves.
The boat lurched, and I had to put out an arm to brace myself. Nedra carefully picked up the silver box and put it back in the copper crucible. Her fingers lingered over the new books inside, and I could tell she wanted to read them now. But she withdrew her hand and turned to me.
“Tell me more about the trade commission,” she said.
I recognized that this was Nedra making an effort to hold on to the way we had been last week, and I couldn’t hide my smile. “It went really well,” I said. “Or, at least, it did after they almost dismissed me. They didn’t like anything I brought from the market.” I laughed, but Nedra frowned.
“What did they want then?”
“The ring!” I said, still laughing.
“What ring?”
“The iron ring Bunchen gave me.”
Her eyes shot to my bare hand.
“I know, I know, it’s a symbol of the rebellion,” I said dismissively. “But they don’t know that. They liked it because it’s iron and links back to—”
“Wellebourne,” Nedra finished for me in a quiet voice.
“Yes, exactly. He’s just as legendary in Miraband as he is on Lunar Island. They know the rings aren’t actually necromantic, but the fact that the iron comes from Wellebourne’s homeland makes them seem more authentic. I gathered that it would be considered fashionable.”
“Fashionable.”
“Someone has to keep that collector of yours in business, I suppose,” I said. “Probably a reason he operates in Miraband. How did Lord Tess put it? A ‘dark and morbid fascination.’” I laughed. “But he thinks the rings will sell really well.”
“But, Grey,” Nedra started.
I cut her off. “And it’s partly thanks to you.”
Whatever she was going to say fled her mind. “Me?”
“News hasn’t fully spread throughout Miraband,” I said. “But people have heard of the necromancer of the island. It’s sparked all this renewed interest in Wellebourne and the rebellion that formed when the colony was new. People want to be a part of it, and they’re willing to pay to do so.”
Nedra’s brows furrowed.
“I know it’s a bit odd and not what we were expecting,” I started.
“Not what we were expecting?” Nedra threw up her hand. “Grey, the iron bands aren’t some sort of trinket to be worn by a lord in the capital who thinks he’s fashionable! They’re a part of our religion.”
I blinked in surprise. “We’re all Oryan,” I said slowly.
“I guess some of us actually believe more than others,” Nedra snapped. “Grey, how could you, of all people, think that the iron band was nothing more than an object to sell?”
“Why does it matter?” I said, confused. “Ned, this could help people in the north live somewhere better than the village you were raised in.”
“I loved my village!” Nedra leapt up, her eyes flashing in fury. “And you would know that if you didn’t think value could only be measured with gold coins!”
“Ned—”
“The iron rings are symbolic of the most holy day of our island.” The words poured from her lips like boiling water spilling over a pot. “They’re meant to be prayed over and blessed by the Elders. They’re meant to be pushed into the graves of the people we love. They’re meant to mean something.”
“I didn’t think you cared about what the gods wanted anymore.” My eyes were on her crucible hanging from her neck in the spot where she used to wear a three-knotted cord. She had been the only person I knew who’d ever bothered to wear one; most people were religious only during the holy festival days and then in name only.
“It’s complicated!” Nedra shouted.
“Not really.” The louder she became, the more my own voice dropped. She was fire, but I was ice. “The gods are against necromancy. Oryous is supposed to conquer death, Nedra, not you.” My words sliced into her like a gutting knife, and there was a little piece inside of me that triumphed at the way her words died on her tongue. “It really is that simple. There’s right, and there’s wrong. You can’t expect me to respect a symbol of the gods when you defy them every second of the day.”
She stood there, fuming, her hand balled into a fist. But before she could say anything, I continued. “Ned, you can pretend all you want that you’ve done the right thing. Because I understand, I really do. It was wrong for your family to die. It was wrong for all those people in the plague to die. But just because that was wrong doesn’t make what you’re doing right. It doesn’t solve anything. If you actually cared about what the gods wanted, you’d leave death to them. What you’ve done, Nedra, what you intend to continue doing—it’s monstrous.”
Every muscle in Nedra’s body was tense. She took a deep breath in. I felt the air around us crackle with electricity, and even though the ship was rocking over rough waves, neither of us moved.
“Get out.” She spoke so quietly that if I hadn’t expected her to say those words, I don’t know if I would have heard them. But I did. Because necromancy was the unspoken line between us, and I had crossed it.