Page 103

Finnian’s movements froze and his head jerked around.

A sinister aura nipped at Naia’s skin, coiling her stomach. It wasn’t like the abrasiveness of Mira’s, or even the murderous type of Marina’s.

Finnian rose from where he was, revealing the vibrant colors of the feathered creature at his feet.

Naia’s brow creased. A mixture of confusion and hope twined behind her ribcage.

A bird? Did he find another?

She studied it further, mesmerized by the vivid cobalt blue feathers with delicate golden accents. Eyes that once held the realm of a soul stared back at her, blank and eternal.

Chills ran up Naia’s spine and realization slammed into her. “Finnian, no…”

Finnian was smiling, stupidly proud. “I brought Alke back to life.”

Naia’s blood ran cold. Necromancy.

She lunged forward, squeezing him by the shoulders. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

The excitement in Finnian’s face melted as he took in the distress on her face. “I don’t understand.”

“No one can ever discover your talents. Do you understand me?”

“Why? This is wonderful! I can bring back the dead!”

“Finnian!” she snapped loudly—a little too harshly. “Necromancy harbors a soul in a dead vessel. When you hang onto a soul, you are withholding it from the High God of Death and Curses.”

“But… But I did this.” he pointed to himself. “Cassian cannot take what is not his.”

“You are taking what is his, Finnian. Mother will send you away if she finds out.”

He blinked in lethargic strides, shaking his head. “Why?”

“She does not wish to anger Lord Cassian any further.”

Producing a necromantic child was shameless. Another excuse for Cassian to punish her even further. She would disown Finnian.

“Promise me.” Naia shook him, clinging to his boney shoulders. “Promise me you will not let Mother—or the triplets—find out about this. I cannot lose you too, Finny.” A sob slipped out of her.

Finnian’s brow fell, his eyes losing their lifeline. “Very well, Sister.”

20

THE HIGH GOD OF WITCHCRAFT AND SORCERY

Vex and Astrid were pleased with themselves after tricking Finnian into gifting Naia their mother’s stolen necklace. Their ridiculing was relentless in taunting insults over the dinner table, never wasting an opportunity to point out their father’s absence.

My, Father would have enjoyed the sight of the blooming baby’s breath down by the river today. It is a shame he cannot, all due to Finnian’s foolishness.

“I swear, one day, I am going to make them choke on their words,” Finnian declared one night at the waterhole.

Naia’s legs soaked in the starlight pool. Her head hung back as she peered up at a lone manta ray drifting aimlessly across the sea. The reflection of the moon pierced through the water, giving her plenty of silvery light to track its movements.

The night was alive with the sounds of crickets, animal calls, and rustling ground cover.

“They are not worth your time,” Naia told him.

Finnian plopped down beside her and picked a part of a stick, chucking pieces over his shoulder. “You are too passive.”