Ward Against Darkness (Chronicles of a Reluctant Necromancer) by Melanie Card Page A

have the Book of Souls? What then?”
    Macerio turned a corner and stopped. Before them lay an open area flooded with sunlight from a window built into the ceiling. On the far side, near the wall, stood three pedestals, their wooden bases and posts carved into a mass of curling vines. The grimoires sat on the outside two columns, closed goddess-eyes burned into the center of the covers, the Vys symbol for death on the one on the left, and the symbol for blood on the right.
    In his mind’s eye, dark red light pulsed from the books, thick and malicious. He blinked, clearing his sight. Now was not the time to let his imagination run wild.
    “I’ll be strong enough to rule the Council of Blood. None of the other Innecroestri will be able to stand against me.”
    The room spun. He couldn’t let the Innecroestri find that book, but he had no way of stopping him. Ward didn’t even know how he’d get out of this house alive.
    “With Habil’s grimoire complete, I will lead the Council of Blood to a new era of glory. And my guests, playing in my gardens, eating my food, dancing, and loving, all unaware of where they are and what they’re doing, reliving the same day over and over again, will ensure my success.”
    By sucking their souls dry with agonizing slowness until there was nothing left of them to cross into the Goddess’s eternal embrace. “Won’t they eventually die?”
    “Only of old age. I’m using a spell from the Book of Blood. I take a little piece of their magic every day. Just like my creatures consume magic from my guests’ souls without killing them. If we only take a little and maintain the proper spell, their souls replenish. It’s a never-ending supply of magic, filling jar upon jar.”
    Ward fought to breathe. Once Macerio had the Book of Souls, there would be no stopping him.
    What had he gotten himself into?

Chapter Ten
    The sun sat low on the horizon when Val led Celia back to the breakfast parlor—now containing mid-afternoon tea, jahalva, and repast. They’d wandered all over the house, talking about their times at the prince’s court. If Brina hadn’t been visible—through a doorway, across the room, or beyond the open windows—Celia could almost pretend nothing had changed between them. Certainly the feeling of friendship and flirtation had returned as if they hadn’t been apart for a year.
    Val pulled out a chair from a table by the windows and motioned for Celia to sit, but his gaze remained trained on the patio. Brina wasn’t there, but Celia was certain she’d arrive soon. She’d been everywhere else.
    Celia eased into the chair. “How long have you been watching her?”
    “Is it that obvious?”
    “You know where she’s going to be before she even gets there.”
    “She’s relived the same day pretty much without variation, except when we talk, since I got here. Probably since the moment Macerio’s spell lured her here. She can’t remember me or anyone else who isn’t entranced, but she also can’t remember half the people here who are. Every day, she reintroduces herself to the same brunette as if it were the first time. She still thinks her thirteenth birthday is next week.”
    “Goddess, Val—”
    Brina rounded the outside of the building and stepped onto the patio with two other women, one a brunette Brina’s age in a maid’s dress, and the other a woman with graying hair in a green gown with long sleeves. Val’s posture eased, his shoulders loosened, and his jaw relaxed. Not enough to be truly at ease, but enough for Celia to know he wasn’t on guard anymore.
    “I don’t want your pity. We all must accept what She has given us,” he said.
    “Or Her fickle Dark Son.”
    “I didn’t think you’d willingly choose this…existence.”
    For a heartbeat, heartbreak overwhelmed her, for Val, for Ward, for the life she’d never have. She swallowed the self-pity. “The circumstances of my unlife were out of my control. Still, there are benefits.”
    “The