Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Momboo sat down heavily at the kitchen table, leaning back against the chair, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. All the windows were open to let fresh air and warm sunlight into the house. However, despite the spring weather, the plants in and around her house were still refusing to grow.

“Tea?” Fenris asked as he scooped up one of her cats and set it in her lap before tucking the blanket tighter around her. “Something to eat?”

“No,” she said, her voice rough, shaking her head. “Just tea, please.”

He nodded. “What kind?”

“I dried some rose petals a few days ago,” Momboo said. “It’s in the jar next to the tea box.”

Fenris nodded again and filled a kettle with water, putting it on the stove to boil. “How have you been?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been tired but I think the warm weather has helped a bit…” She trailed off as she coughed, blood speckling her dry, cracked lips. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a couple of days.”

“Centross broke up with you not that long ago,” Momboo said. “It’s OK to be upset about that and need some time to yourself.”

“It was a while ago, though. I should be over it, especially since he’s a necromancer.” He paused, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the counter, swallowing hard. “I—I shouldn’t still miss him.”

“You were together for a while. It’s natural for those feelings to take a while to fade.”

Fenris shrugged before his head jerked up as Momboo started to cough, crossing the room quickly to rub her back comfortingly. Then his golden eyes widened when he saw the blood. “Momboo…”

She wiped it away quickly, her hands shaking. “It’s been happening for a while, Fenris. There’s nothing that can be done.”

“What about health potions?” he asked. “Or someone else with your kind of magic using it on you?”

“Health potions don’t work. Nothing’s working.” Momboo shrugged as she blinked back tears. “I’m dying, Fenris, and it hurts so badly.”

“Do Jamie and Easton know?” Fenris asked, his voice soft. He sat down across from her, taking her hands in his own. Her skin was cold, clammy, and pale. Her veins were clear under her skin, stark blue-black against white. “Do they know how serious it is?”

“How am I supposed to tell my kids I’m dying?” Her voice cracked, tears dripping silently down her cheeks. “They know I’m sick, but Easton travels, and Jamie shouldn’t have to worry about this. They’re still so young.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“It’s just as much my fault as it is Rae’s,” she murmured. “If I hadn’t grabbed him, then his magic wouldn’t have hurt me. I want to blame him for killing me; I want to be angry at him, but I don’t have the energy for it anymore. I barely have the energy to feel bad that I’m going to leave my kids.”

Fenris frowned and tucked a limp strand of hair behind her ear so it wouldn’t get in her face. “I’m sorry. What can I do to help?”

“I—” Momboo shrugged. “Don’t grieve me too much when I die. Help Jamie and Easton; they’ll need support, and I— I want them to have people who care about them around.”

“OK,” he said softly. “I can do that.”

“Thank you, Fenris.”

He nodded and got up as the kettle started to whistle, turning off the stove and grabbing her favorite mug from the cupboards. He scooped some of the dried rose petals into a tea bag and put it in the mug before pouring the water into it.

“What about Rae?” Fenris asked. “He and Jamie are friends.”

Momboo sighed heavily, her breath rattling in her lungs. “Jamie cares about Rae. They’re friends. Jamie deserves all the friends and support possible when I die. I may not like Rae, but I’m not so cruel as to deny my child a friend after my death.”

He frowned but nodded, setting her cup of tea on the table in front of her. “Very well.”

“You hate Rae more than I do,” she said with a thin smile, cupping the mug in her hands for the warmth it radiated. “And yet it’s his magic that’s killing me.”

“He’s killing you,” Fenris said, lips curling into a small snarl. “He hurt you. He practically stole my boyfriend from me. The only reason Centross broke up with me is because of Rae.”

Momboo took a small sip of her tea. “You want him to be like Lennarius so you have a reason to hate him and hurt him.”

“And?”

She just shrugged. “I don’t like Rae, but Jamie likes him, and for their sake, I want Rae to be nothing like Lennarius. I want Rae to be another person who just happens to be a necromancer.”

“So then why do you hate him?” he asked. “Why do you hate him if you don’t want him to be evil?”

“He hurt me. He hurt you. He’s reckless and borderline dangerous with his magic, but he’s trying his best.” Momboo shrugged again. “I don’t know; it’s complicated. He’s a necromancer who has the power to bring people back to life, and that terrifies me. He’s a necromancer, and he’s killing me; he’s going to take me away from my children, and I hate him for it. Yet, my own child cares about him, and I love my child. I want him to be nothing like Lennarius, but I’m scared that he will turn out exactly like that monster. I’m scared of finding out how much he’ll take before he snaps and murders everyone.”

Fenris frowned but didn’t say anything, his expression hard as she sipped on her tea. It was quiet in the house, the cat curled up and purring in her lap making the most sound. Her home should have been covered in green and dripping with flowers, but everything was brown and dead. The life witch was dying. The magic that once poured out of her to make the world around her brighter was turned inward to keep her alive for just a bit longer.

Then, there was a knock on the front door.

Fenris got up quickly. “I’ll get it,” he said as he crossed the room and opened the door.

Aax stood there, tail twitching anxiously behind her, their ear fins pressed back against their skull. “Hey…” it said. “Are you busy?”

“Come in,” Momboo said. “The water in the kettle should still be hot if you want some tea.”

Fenris stepped back from the door, and Aax entered the house, slipping off their shoes. “I actually wanted to talk to you, Momboo… if you wouldn’t mind.”

“What happened?” she asked.

It sat down at the table, pulling its knees to its chest. “Rae tried to bring back his grandparents earlier.”

“Oh…”

Fenris let out a low growl.

Momboo frowned. “Did it work? How did you find out?”

“It didn’t work,” Aax said quickly. “Thankfully. We don’t need more necromantic monsters around here.”

She nodded. “How did you find out?”

“Caspian found him, and they talked.” They frowned. “Apparently, my boyfriend sympathizes with him.”

“Caspian is a fool,” Fenris growled.

“I don’t want him in danger,” Aax said, looking at Momboo. “Rae is dangerous. He’s killing you. I want my boyfriend to be safe; I don’t want him hanging out with monsters like Rae Morningstar.”

Momboo set her mug down on the table, frowning as she stared out the window. It would be so easy to write a letter and let someone who could fix this know. It would be easy to get rid of Rae and Centross, who had hurt her and hurt people she cared about. It would leave Jamie with two fewer friends, but he had so many other people, and… maybe with Rae’s burial she wouldn’t be dying anymore.

“I know someone who might be able to help,” Momboo said, her voice soft, guilt leaving a sour taste in her mouth. “I’ll write to him and tell him what’s going on. He’ll be able to take care of the necromancers.”

Isla didn’t deserve it. That woman, despite their argument at the very beginning, was just trying to keep her son safe, something that Momboo could sympathize with. However. Momboo didn’t want to die and leave her own children. Could she really be blamed for trying to save her own life?

“Thank you,” Aax said, the tension bleeding from her form.

Momboo smiled at them. “Of course, Aax. I’m happy to help.”

Rae woke up to early morning sunlight streaming in through the cracked-open windows. The curtains fluttered in the cool breeze. Next to him, Centross slept, his face peaceful. Hope and Bucket were curled up at the bottom of the bed. He sat up slowly to not wake up the man beside him or the animals at his feet. The air was a pleasantly cool temperature that made him want to lie back down and bask in the warmth that Centross radiated. Instead, Rae leaned over and brushed his lips across the other’s forehead. His bruised and blackened fingers carded through the necromancer’s dark hair. Centross shifted slightly, his eyelids fluttering as he drew closer to waking up. Rae could have gotten out of bed (maybe he should have), but instead he lay back down and tucked himself against Centross’ side, resting his head on the other’s chest to hear his heart beat.

“Morning,” Centross mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. He shifted slightly to wrap his arms around Rae and pull him closer.

“Hi,” he rasped out. His face itched with dried tears. His entire body felt drained and shaky with the outpouring of emotions just the day before.

Centross’ expression changed, lips pressed together and eyebrows furrowed in concern. His hands, warm and calloused, cupped Rae’s cheeks gently, his thumb rubbing soothingly against his cheekbone. “What’s going on in your beautiful mind?” he asked, his voice soft.

Rae swallowed hard against a new wave of tears and pressed into the comforting touch. “I thought I was going to succeed,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to bring back my granddads. I thought I wasn’t going to wake up again.”

“How did Caspian find you?” he asked.

“I– I left a note for you and Mom, and I– he found it when he went to the library. I must have mentioned my house to him at some point and—” He cut himself off and shrugged. “I guess he was worried enough to go looking for me.”

Being held so close to Centross, Rae could see the moment he connected the dots, his expression crumpling from concern to terror. He could feel the hitch in Centross’ breath and the way his heart sped up just slightly. He could see the tears that formed in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Rae whispered, dragging his gaze away from Centross, unable to look the consequences of his actions in the eye.

“You knew it was going to kill you,” Centross said, his voice soft and shaking. “Rae—I—just why?”

“They deserve to be happy and alive. They deserve the second chance that I got—that you got—that Mom got—I just wanted them back.”

He pulled Rae close. “I may be selfish, but I’m glad it didn’t work. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.”

“I’m sorry,” Rae whispered. “They’re more important than me.”

“No, they’re not,” Centross murmured against his lips, kissing him gently. “You are one of the most important people in my life and in your friends’ lives.”

He kissed back, starting to cry again. Later, when it was time to get up and get ready for the day, neither of them would talk about what happened.

A letter from Momboo Pine of Lodestar Grove to Mr. Fable Gilded, Mayor of Westgrove:

To Fable,

I regret to inform you that the situation surrounding Rae Morningstar has gotten worse. Just this day, I received information that Rae had attempted to bring his grandparents back. Though, thankfully, he failed. One of my close friends has told me that their partner has gotten closer to Rae, and they worry for their partner’s safety. I worry for their safety and for my child’s safety, who had become friends with Rae, and with my health as bad as it is, I do not have the heart to tell them to stay away from the necromancer.

Loderstar Grove needs your help getting rid of the necromancers plaguing this town, even if all the people here do not recognize the danger they are in. I know that I will die if Rae is not killed.

From, Momboo

Fable sat in his office, staring at the letter he had received the other day from Momboo, frowning. His son and their friends would be there soon. There was a lot of worrying new information about the necromancers infecting Lodestar Grove for them to discuss.

There was a knock at the door, and he raised his head. “Come in.”

Icarus entered first, their eyes glittering like real gold in the sunlight streaming into the room. “Hello, Father,” they greeted as they sat down. Arisanna and Ven trailed in behind them, waiting for a moment before also sitting down.

“I am glad you were able to join this meeting on such short notice,” Fable said, leaning back in his chair. “Momboo sent a letter informing me about the gravity of the situation in Lodestar Grove; though, due to her worsening condition, she is unable to attend.”

“Could have met her there,” Arisanna grumbled under her breath, a dark light gleaming in her eyes as she stared at him, lips curled into a snarl not unlike an expression her brother would make when angry.

Fable ignored her. “Icarus, I have heard that you have been attempting to help Momboo.”

His son shrugged, gloved hands drumming a nervous pattern into their leg that they quickly stopped when they felt their father’s disapproving glare. “I’ve been trying but nothing’s working…”

“Mhm. And what exactly have you been doing?”

“Mostly health potions,” they said. “Attempting to make them stronger so she isn’t in pain. I’ve tried regeneration potions, and they’ve done nothing. Currently, I’ve been trying to put life magic into a potion so it’ll maybe flush all the death magic out of her system, but she doesn’t have any life magic to spare, and I don’t have a good source of pure life magic. It’s not going well.”

“Right,” Fable said, frowning. “I suggest you put more effort into it. It would be a pity if Momboo died because you were not putting enough effort into saving her.”

Icarus said nothing, only nodding quickly as they stared at the floor.

“Does anyone have any actually useful information to report before I start on why I called this meeting?” He asked, voice sharp, ignoring how his own son flinched slightly at the sharp dig directed at them.

Arisanna leaned forward, golden gossamer wings fluttering slightly behind her with the movement. “Lennarius turned up,” she forced out, her anger only a front to hide the ice-cold terror filling her body. Light sparked across her bruised and broken knuckles. “He went to Rae and Centross for help.”

Fable’s gaze locked on her, the light spilling into the room growing brighter, the heat increasing steadily upward. Magic sang in a warning chorus through the air. Lennarius was back. He was going to raise the hordes again, and they would all lose everything. “What?” he asked, his voice quiet and steady, but it was impossible to miss everyone’s rising panic.

“Lennarius is back,” Ari hissed. “He went to Rae and Centross for help because he wanted to bring his brother back, and Rae refused. They fought. That necromantic bitch is dangerous to the point of driving away people who could help him raise the hordes.”

“So,” Fable mused. “We don’t have to worry about Rae Morningstar and Lennarius joining forces.”

She nodded. “I doubt his lapdogs will join Lennarius then either.”

“However, Lennarius is dangerous if he is willing to lash out if he doesn’t get his way. That makes him dangerous.”

“I think he hurt Rae and then threatened to not give Rae a choice about helping him,” Ari said, slumping back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t like any of the necromancers, but Lennarius is a bitch for talking to Rae like that.”

Fable frowned, his voice harsh. “That does not matter, Arisanna. The issue here is that Lennarius is back. He must be planning to raise the hordes again.”

“So what’s next?” Ven asked with a frown. “Do we let them kill each other?”

“That would leave a necromancer alive,” Fable said. “That is not an option, and they will tear apart the world. We must kill them and make sure they stay dead. That is the only way to save the world. Neither the necromancers nor anyone or anything touched by their corrupting magic can be left alive at the end.”

That was met with silence before Ven spoke up. “What did Momboo say in her letter?”

He frowned. “Rae Morningstar attempted to bring his grandfathers back to life two days ago, one of whom is a necromancer and a knowledgeable one at that. Apparently, he wrote many books about necromancers and their magic. Thankfully, Rae failed, and there are not more necromancers and necromantic sympathizers in Lodestar Grove for us to deal with, but it does show that Rae Morningstar is seeking more power.”

“Oh…” Ven said, sinking back in his chair. “Right.”

Fable sighed heavily before taking a deep breath, the light spilling into the room lowering in brightness to what it should be for the time of day. “What in Lodestar Grove has been touched by necromantic magic?”

“Centross, Isla, and Rae are the only necromancers,” Icarus said. “But Momboo did some magic on Caspian to bring him back. Does that count?”

“Yes.”

Ven frowned. “If we’re counting anything, then we can’t forget their pets. And Vicktor, Ulysses’ cat.”

“There’s Oscar,” Arisanna said after a moment. “And Momboo.”

“Oscar?” Fable asked.

She shrugged, her trembling voice the only thing betraying the hidden emotions rushing through her. “Ocie’s kid, he’s… he’s partially dead or somehow touched by necromantic magic. Centross is close to him, like some uncle role or something. I don’t know. He’s seven-ish, I think?”

“Oscar’s just a kid,” Ven protested. “He’s innocent.”

He nodded before sighing heavily. “We can not prioritize a half-dead child over the fate of the world. Such is life.”

“Who are we starting with?” Icarus asked.

“I will deal with Lennarius myself,” Fable said. “I suspect that the issue with Momboo will resolve itself; either she heals and is no longer corrupted, or the death magic will kill her.”

“And the other necromancers?”

“I have someone who dealt with the Morningstars before coming to help. Once Rae is dead, the others will stay dead after they’ve been killed. Their pets will be easy to burn. I will have to put more thought into how to best deal with Oscar; he does need to die, but there is no reason to be cruel. Caspian should be dealt with before he can truly ally himself with Rae, and then we must ensure that Rae is not given the opportunity to bring him back.”

Arisanna huffed. “I should have finished him when I got the chance. Stupid Ulysses and his bleeding heart.”

“Excuse me?” Fable asked, his voice deadly calm.

“I should have killed Caspian when I had the chance,” Ari said, with a sharp smile, ignoring the horrified looks Icarus and Ven had given her. “I had my axe to his throat, and I got interrupted by Ulysses Themist and his stupid bleeding heart.”

“Icarus, Venear. Get out.”

Their chairs scraped against the floor as the two got to their feet quickly, neither wanting to be in the room for the fight that was sure to happen. Arisanna didn’t look away from Fable or flinch when the door slammed closed behind Icarus.

“You tried to kill Caspian,” Fable said.

“Yeah,” she challenged. “What about it? You certainly seem like you want him dead from the conversation I just heard.”

His golden eyes bored into her, flickering with magic. “He could have been useful on our side.”

“And then you would have murdered him,” Arisanna snapped. “Just like you’re planning to kill Momboo.”

“I have no plans to kill her,” Fable snapped back. “It will not be my fault if she dies because of the death magic infecting her.”

“You’re supposed to save people!”

“I am saving people!” He was on his feet, hands slamming down on the desk loud enough to make her jump. “Momboo’s death will be an unfortunate necessity should she be unable to get rid of the infection. So will Oscar’s.”

“You would have brought Caspian in to help only to stab him in the back once the necromancers were dead.” She didn’t know why she was pushing so hard against the idea of people she didn’t care about being betrayed… Maybe because she knew that if Fable was so willing to betray them, then he had no reason to not turn on her.

“You do not understand war.”

Arisanna laughed sharply. “I don’t understand war? Lennarius marched on my home and murdered my mother. I lost everything because of that bastard. Don’t tell me what I don’t understand.”

Sunlight flooded the room, heating the air until Ari was sweating and gasping for breath despite it being a cool spring day outside. The heat was suffocatingly thick.

Fable loomed over her, his voice quiet but hard. “You do not know what you are talking about,” he said, sounding like he was scolding some child. “These are necessities for ridding the world of necromantic scum.”

She bared her teeth at him.

“Do not give me reason to believe that you can not be trusted here,” Fable said. “You are a valuable asset, Arisanna. I would hate to lose you.”

“Are you threatening to kill me?” she asked, pale blue light dancing across her bruised knuckles.

“Anyone who sympathizes with necromancers should be killed. There is no room in the world for people like that.”

“What about your sister?”

He sneered. “I will deal with Enderian as I see fit. That is not a matter you need to be sticking your nose in unless you would like to join her and start caring about the monsters who nearly destroyed the world.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Arisanna hissed, lying through her gritted teeth.

Fable’s expression twisted dangerously. “Get out.”

She got to her feet and stormed out, slamming the door behind her as her hands started to shake.

The next morning Jamie knocked on Momboo’s front door before entering the house. “Mom?” they called out as he went upstairs to her room.

Momboo lay in bed, sunlight streaming into the room through the blinds she hadn’t had the energy to close them the night before. When her kid entered the room, she turned her head to smile tiredly at them. “Hi, Jamie,” she murmured, her voice soft. “I didn’t realize you were coming over today. I would have gotten changed had I known.”

Jamie sat down on the bed. “I decided to visit when I woke up this morning. It wasn’t something I planned out. I can go if this is a bad time.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s never a bad time.”

They smiled and shifted to be lying down next to her, resting his head on her chest to hear her heart. “OK.”

Momboo stroked their fur, magic sparking across her fingers to make little blue and yellow flowers bloom in their fur. “I love you.”

“Save your magic for healing yourself,” Jamie said with a huff, trying and failing to hide their smile.

“Am I not allowed to do my child’s hair?” she asked, smiling despite the painful exhaustion pulling at her limbs and foggy mind.

Jamie looked at her, their expression twisting into a frown.

“What’s going on?”

“Do you hate Rae?” they asked.

Momboo paused before sighing heavily. “It’s complicated, but I’m glad you have friends. I trust that you’ll do your best to be safe even though I don’t fully trust Rae to not do something that puts you in danger… even if it’s unintentional.”

“You used to not want me to talk to him.”

“I don’t have the energy for that anymore,” she said. “And you’re an adult. I can’t make your choices for you.”

Jamie nodded, frowning slightly. “OK.”

“I’m sorry I can’t say I fully support it.”

“It’s fine,” they said with a shrug. “This is better than I expected.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jamie smiled at her.

She smiled back, running her shaking fingers through their fur. “I know, sweetheart.”

“I want to help somehow,” he said, his voice soft as they leaned into the touch. “I’m not good with medicine or potions like Ulysses or Icarus.”

“You’re helping just like this,” Momboo murmured.

Jamie sat up quickly, blinking tears out of their dark eyes. “I’m watching you die slowly, and there’s nothing I can do to even pretend to help! Icarus can make potion after potion that doesn’t do anything at the end of the day, but at least they’re doing something.”

“I’m not dying,” she lied, her voice weak.

“Mom, please,” he whispered. “Please don’t lie to me.”

Momboo shook her head, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. “I wouldn’t. I know it looks bad, and I know I’m sick, but I’m not dying. I’m not getting any worse, and I’m going to get better.”

They were crying, softly and silently, shoulders shaking. “But how long will that take?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “And I’m sorry. I’m trying my best.”

“I know…”

She guided them to lay down again, letting them rest their head on his shoulder, warm breath tickling her shoulder as her scarlet hair tickled his face. Jamie tucked themself against her side. She rubbed gentle circles into their back, her voice too hoarse to sing the lullabies she used to be able to sing.

“I love you,” Momboo whispered into the quiet of her bedroom.

“I know you too,” came the soft reply from the child tucked against her side.

Chapter Text

Rae hummed softly along to the record crooning low, sweet notes into the air. The windows of the library’s workshop were open to let fresh air spill into the building. It smelled like rain, and heavy clouds were gathering on the horizon, though the sky above Lodestar Grove was still clear blue. Hopefully, the rain would hold off until that evening. Bucket was chasing a mouse toy around in a puddle of sunlight.

“Are you having fun?” Rae asked as he gently kicked the toy closer to the cat, laughing when Bucket batted it around. Then he paused as the library door opened, twisting to face the door. “Hi?”

Icarus paused in the doorway to the workshop, the world wavering around them. “Hello.” They wore gloves, but the leather was a fresh brown instead of their usual, worn black. It didn’t stop different fabrics from glitching across their clothes. Their hair kept turning gold in the sunlight. Their eyes were mismatched, and one was crying blood, watery scarlet drops rolling down their cheek and staining the collar of their jacket.

“Can I help you?” he asked with a quick smile and set his broom to the side.

“You’re going to die,” Icarus said, voice soft but not kind. “You’re going to be buried, and everything you care about will be burned, so you have no reason to get up again.”

Rae swallowed hard and took a step back, tasting bloody mud in the back of his throat. “Excuse me?”

“I talked with Father yesterday.” They took a step forward. “I heard that Lennarius has shown his face again. I heard that you tried to bring back your grandparents.”

He nearly choked on panic, grief, and grave dirt, lungs spasming despite not needing to breathe. “What about it?” Rae asked, somehow keeping his voice from shaking.

“You, the rest of the necromancers, and everything touched by your death magic needs to be destroyed,” they hissed, the world around them flickering.

“You’re threatening innocent people,” he said. “I’ve done nothing to warrant death. Neither has my mom nor Centross.” Then he scoffed. “Are you going to go after our pets also? Are you going to kill Bucket and Hope? They’re animals, Icarus; they’ve done nothing wrong. They don’t understand any part of this war you and your father have constructed in your head.”

“Your magic is corrupted and unnatural. The world would be better without it.”

Rae looked at them, cloudy eyes narrowed and sharp. There was thick blood coating his tongue. “What exactly are you planning on doing?”

That made Icarus grin and laugh bitterly. “Your magic is dangerous. Your magic raised the dead. Your kind—Lennarius—tore apart the world with his hordes. You’re all monsters and abominations. Despite all your insisting that you’re nothing like Lennarius, you’re still trying to raise the dead. You’re still killing Momboo.”

“You’re part of the reason Arisanna tried to kill Caspian,” he said. “How long has this been going on for? Did this start when your father killed Centross last summer? It’s still early spring, but it’ll be a year in a few months. Here I thought you and Centross used to be friends.”

“Father never killed Centross,” Icarus snapped.

“Fable Gilded, right?” Rae asked with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head. “Mayor of Westgrove? Tall with golden eyes? He’s a light mage.”

They paused, their eyes wide. “You’ve been snooping.”

“I’ve looked through the public records here,” he said calmly. “The funny thing about magical libraries is that while books won’t repair themselves, books and records keep turning up. The Gilded family is large and powerful enough that it keeps very detailed information about its bloodline. After I showed you how to bookbind, I got curious.”

“Rae,” they said, voice sharp to hide the slight tremble.

Rae took a deep, unneeded breath just for the comforting feeling of fresh air filling his ruined lungs. “What, Icarus? It’s not information I’d use against you. But you should still know what crimes your family has committed.”

Icarus scoffed. “If you want to talk about crimes of our bloodlines, I could point out Lennarius tearing apart the world with his cursed, undead hordes.”

“I’m not siding with Lennarius,” he said. “I’m not joining forces with him. I’m not a murderer, and I’m not supporting murderers… unlike you.”

“Shut up!” they snarled. For a moment, the world around the two was a whirlwind of Icarus’ glitching, twisted magic. It tore the library apart only to be tamped down by brute force, pushed back by magic that belonged in the building and wouldn’t allow the twisted force that lived inside Icarus to taint the world where it reigned supreme.

Rae blinked at them, his hands trembling. “You and Centross were friends. You and I were friends. If your father gets his wish, then both I and Centross will be dead. Not only will you have lost two old friends, but I doubt Athena, Jamie, or Caspian, at the very least, will ever want to talk to you again. You will have lost at least five friends. What about Momboo?”

“Shut up—”

“Fable wants to get rid of any necromantic magic. He will kill her regardless of what promises he makes to save her.”

“Rae,” Icarus growled, stepping forward threateningly. “I told you to shut up.”

Instead of backing up, Rae stepped forward. “Had this been just a fight against Lennarius, I would have joined you. I hate him just as much as anyone else; he’s the reason I died. But your father decided to target people I care about, and I’m not letting them die again.” Then he paused, all the fight draining out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “We were friends Icarus,” pleaded the necromancer. “What changed?”

Icarus only sneered at him. “You’re a monster. You should have never come back. You’re too dangerous to be left alive.”

“Get out of my library,” Rae ordered. “Just leave. I don’t want to fight about this. I don’t want you coming after people I care about. Leave.”

They spun and left, the door slamming closed behind them. When Rae stepped out of the workshop to check that they were really gone (as if Rae hadn’t just told Icarus to leave and then heard them storm out), he saw the doorhandle was bright, shining gold instead of the dark wrought iron it used to be.

“Fuck,” hissed the necromancer, running a hand through his hair again.

Bucket was still playing with its toy behind him, the cat completely oblivious to the very real danger that had just invaded the library. No, though, the beautiful spring day seemed just a bit colder and more unfriendly. Rae couldn’t shake the ice-cold terror that filled his body. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his comm and messaged Centross.

A few minutes later, Rae sat down on the beach next to Centross, where the other necromancer watched Oscar run around in the warm sand and chilly ocean.

“Are you OK?” Centross asked, glancing over at Rae and shifting so he could lean against his shoulder more comfortably.

Rae just shrugged and moved closer to Centross’s warm body. “Icarus stopped by at the library.”

He let out a hum. “How did that go?”

“Badly.” He paused, running a hand over his face. “It went badly. They just came to threaten me.”

“Oh.” His tone was surprised but sharp, his expression hardening as his eyes darkened. “I see. What did they say?”

Rae swallowed hard. “That everything touched by our magic was dangerous and needed to be destroyed… that their father was going to kill and bury every necromancer.”

“I’m sorry,” Centross said after a few long moments, his voice soft. He turned his head to press a kiss to the top of Rae’s head, chapped lips brushing against soft hair. Rae leaned into the offered comfort, but neither spoke about the implications of what had happened three days ago.

“I should be used to it,” Rae murmured, his cloudy gaze on the young kid playing in the sand. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with people who want to kill me for something I can’t control. I should be used to it.”

He just wrapped an arm around Rae and held him close. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with this before.”

“Oscar’s only here because of death magic,” he whispered, terror making his voice shake. “Centross, I—”

“They won’t hurt him,” Centross promised, but they both knew that was a lie. “It’ll be OK.”

That evening Rae sat on the front steps of the bed and breakfast, rain pouring down around the protection of the porch’s roof. Isla sat next to him, a mug of steaming tea held tightly in her hands. The world smelled like fresh earth that got overturned while digging a garden.

“Centross told me what happened earlier this week,” Isla said, her voice soft as she watched the world turn to mud under the rain.

Rae glanced over at her before pulling his knees to his chest. “I’m sorry—”

She let out a soft, sad sound that made Rae’s apology stutter to a stop. “Oh, sweetheart.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not mad, Rae.”

“I tried to bring back your dads,” he whispered, terrified of his voice breaking if he tried to speak any louder. “And I failed.”

“You’re alive,” Isla said. “That is what I care about. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rae swallowed hard against tears. “I tried to bring back your dads, and I failed. You should hate me, if not for failing, then at least for putting myself in danger. Caspian and Centross have called it a suicide attempt enough times for me to know I fucked up.”

Her mug was set to the side before she hugged him, pulling him close and carding her fingers through his hair. “I could never hate you,” his mother said, her voice soft. “You’re my son, Rae. You mean the world to me. I’m sad that you feel the need to put yourself in danger for others, but I never hate you because of it.”

He started crying.

Isla kept stroking his hair. “Do you want to die?”

That simple question made his heart ache, painful tears burning the back of his throat. “No—I like being alive. I don’t want to return to the grave—it was so cold and dark, and I couldn’t breathe.” He sobbed. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I know, sparrow,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “I know, I believe you. I’m so sorry you’re struggling like this. I’m sorry you keep pushing yourself like this. I’m sorry it keeps getting you hurt.”

“They’re starting to hunt necromancers again,” Rae forced out between breathless sobs. “I don’t want to die again.”

“They?” Isla asked as her lips twisted into a frown.

“Icarus, their father, and anyone who’s allied themselves with them.” He leaned desperately into her warmth, his face hidden in her shoulder.

She didn’t complain despite the snot he was most likely smearing across her shirt, only wrapping her arms around him and holding him closer. “We’re going to figure it out, I promise. It’s going to be OK.”

Chapter Text

There was a stranger in Westgrove. She was tall and rode a pale horse. Her hair, the color of blood, spilled down her back in a neat braid. Her eyes, green as fresh grass, gleamed in the sunshine. She was dressed plainly in dark pants, sturdy boots, a deep green shirt, and a brown jacket over it. There was a small pistol at her hip. When she got to the Gilded Family’s residence, she dismounted her horse, handed it over to the stablehand, greeted the butler at the door, and let the old man lead her upstairs to Lord Fable Gilded’s office. Her smile was sharp. Her gaze was sharper. She was, by anyone’s best guess, in her late fifties or early sixties, and there were wrinkles starting to form due to smiling, though if anyone knew anything about Sheriff Perix Warden, they knew that nothing that made her smile was good.

Fable looked up as she entered. “Sheriff Perix, I am glad you could make it.”

Her smirk widened, and she sat down across from him. “Mayor Gilded, I’m glad you wrote to me when you did, even if it took me a while to get out here.”

“I understand,” he said. “I am sure it is a lot to believe that some necromancers you dealt with before have come back, and you do have your own town to worry about. You’re busy, Sheriff. I can’t blame you for that.”

“Oh no.” The sheriff laughed. “I believed you; you don’t have to worry about that. I had hoped that you were more than capable of dealing with the vermin yourself. After all, I’ve already hunted them down and buried them. It’s easy.”

Fable frowned, and the sunlight shifted the patterns it left on the floor, becoming brighter and warmer. “I see. What made you choose to come now?”

“You hadn’t taken care of them yet,” Perix said, leaning back in her chair as the shadows around her deepened with little pinpricks of light visible in the darkest corners. “So, I decided I would take you up on your offer. You need help. I’m willing to help provide it.”

“Regardless, I am glad you finally decided to come,” he said, voice harsh.

Then there was a knock on the door, and Icarus opened it. “Father—”

“I am busy, Icarus,” Fable said sharply. “I told you I had an important meeting and I was not to be disturbed. What do you want?”

They ducked their head, voice soft. “I’m sorry.”

“What, Icarus?” he asked. “What do you want?”

Icarus swallowed hard. “Wilton told me that your guest got here. I wanted to meet her, especially if we’re going to be working with her.”

“Icarus,” Fable said sharply as he got to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” they whispered quickly, jerking back.

Perix also stood up, but she held out her hand to shake. “Sheriff Perix Warden,” she said. “You must be Icarus.”

“Icarus Gilded,” Icarus said, shaking her hand and relaxing when Fable sat down. “I’m sorry about interrupting your meeting with my father.”

She laughed sharply. “I see nothing wrong with a young man following in the footsteps of his father, especially when it comes to such an important job as exterminating any necromancers. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Icarus.”

“You will get a chance to meet the others who are working with us later,” Fable said. “Icarus, get out.”

They nodded and left quickly, the door closing behind them.

Perix turned to Fable with a raised eyebrow. “You never really talked about your son, Fable. I mean, I knew he existed, but… the Gilded Family has so many interesting secrets.”

Fable frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Do you have any actually useful commentary? Or are you going to continue to judge how I balance work and family?”

“I will walk out this door and leave you to deal with the Morningstar family myself,” she threatened, her voice low as her gaze darkened, the shadows curling around her lengthening. “I may despise all necromancers and that family especially, but I will not join forces with some stuck-up mayor who lords his family and power over his important allies.”

He blinked at her in surprise.

Perix smiled, though the expression was more her baring her teeth than actually showing any joy. “I’ll help you, Fable. We both understand the importance of this job. But if you continue to disrespect me like this, I will go and do it myself. You won’t get any accolades for ridding the world of necromancers. Understand?”

“Very well,” he snapped, anger twisting his voice and face.

“So Fable, what is your plan here?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it not obvious?”

Perix just shrugged.

“I plan to kill everyone and everything touched by necromantic magic, not just the necromancers,” he said. When she raised an eyebrow at him, Fable sighed heavily and sat back down. “The necromancers currently alive are Isla and Rae Morningstar, along with Centross Mistvale. There are three animals touched by their magic: a cat belonging to the Morningstars, a dog belonging to Mistvale, and another cat belonging to Ulysses Themist, a Telcin. The people touched by necromantic magic are Momboo, a life witch infected with necromantic magic; Caspian, a sympathizer; and Oscar, a child but also only alive due to death magic.”

She nodded. “And you plan to kill all of them?”

“Yes,” he said. “We need to get rid of the necromancers first if possible, especially Rae Morningstar. However, if we can prevent him from bringing the others back to life, then that isn’t necessary.”

“If you want my suggestion—”

“Well, yes. That is why I requested your help with this.”

Perix sneered. “Go after Oscar first. Use their death to recruit more to your cause if you blame the necromancers for it.”

“Very well,” Fable said. “If you think that is the best idea.”

Perix found Icarus sulking in the gardens a few hours later when she left Fable’s office. They were sitting on the edge of a fountain, the stone under them turning from brick to marble to old, mossy, grey stone.

“Icarus,” Perix said as she sat next to him.

They glanced up quickly, golden and purple eyes widening. “Sheriff, I—”

“Is your father always so cruel to you?” she asked, watching the colorful koi fish swim circles in the fountain.

“Not usually,” Icarus said with a frown. “Usually he’s just disappointed.”

“Why?”

“Why do you care?” they asked.

Perix frowned. “Am I not allowed to be interested in the people I am going to be allied with?”

“No, I—” Icarus paused and shrugged. “I suppose it’s because of my magic.”

“I assume that the fountain changing materials is because of you and not strange garden decoration your father has installed in the gardens.”

Their laugh was harsh and bitter. “Yeah. I can’t control it. It just does that.”

“It’s interesting,” Perix told them, her voice soft, trying not to grin when Icarus gave her a startled look. “You’re powerful, Icarus, if the magic can change materials without you putting any effort into doing so. Have you trained it?”

“Only to make it stop or change it back to how it was,” Icarus said, starting to smile. “Once I stop touching something, it doesn’t stick around, which is good. Gloves help slow it down.”

“Mhm.”

“And it usually isn’t this drastic, but I’ll leave golden handprints lying around if I’m not careful. I think strong emotions strengthen it.”

“It’s impressive,” she said.

“Father says it’s almost as bad as necromancers’ magic.” Icarus frowned before shrugging.

Perix shrugged. “I’ve also heard that you’re skilled with potions.”

That made them smile wider and sit up. “Yes! I have an entire workshop set up at home for them and notebooks filled with information. You should see it when you visit Lodestar Grove.”

“You don’t consider this place your home?”

Icarus jerked their head towards the house. “This is Father’s home. Despite him constantly insisting that I should move here, I’m not truly welcomed.”

“I’m sorry,” Perix said, her voice soft.

“I’m used to it.”

She got to her feet, her hand resting against their shoulder for a moment. “You’re destined for greatness, Icarus. I’m sure of it.”

Then, she left, grinning to herself. Maybe it was cruel to poison a son against their father. Maybe it was cruel to turn her so-called allies against each other, but she didn’t care, and Icarus could be useful, possibly more useful than Fable.