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

seen her around court, in fact…
    “Isn’t that your sister Brina?”
    The muscle in Val’s jaw ticked.
    “But she went missing—”
    “Two years ago. Yes.”
    The man took Brina’s hand. She threw her head back and giggled. Just like the woman sitting a few seats over had done. The man, easily twice her age, laughed with her as he escorted her to a table on the other side of the parlor. She glanced around the room, saw Celia, and her eyes widened. Her smile blossomed, and she excused herself from her companion and crossed the parlor. “Celia Carlyle. I didn’t know you knew Lord de Cortia.”
    Val shifted in his chair.
    “I’m surprised you remember me.” They’d only met once years ago at court.
    “I don’t think I could forget you. My brother talks about you all the time. Every time we’re at the Prince of Brawenal’s court, he points you out. I think he fancies you.”
    “The Prince of Brawenal fancies me? I’d say he’s a little too old and a little too married for me,” Celia said, knowing full well she meant Val. It seemed strange Brina would talk about him as if he wasn’t right there.
    “No, my brother.” Brina giggled and turned to Val. “Excuse me, I’ve been rude. I’m Brina Rous.” She held out a delicate hand.
    Val took it and brushed his lips across the back. “Val.”
    “That’s the same name as my brother.”
    “Isn’t that funny.” Val’s tone remained light, but Celia could hear the strain.
    “It’s a pleasure meeting you. I hope we have more time to talk at the festivities tonight.” Brina curtsied and skipped back to her companion.
    “Oh Goddess, Val. What’s wrong with her? She doesn’t know who you are.”
    “She’s entranced. It’s like our enthrallment except more powerful. Macerio has cast it on everyone who isn’t a vesperitti. None of them realize where they are, exactly.”
    “But she knows she’s in Macerio’s house.”
    “Yes, but she thinks it’s in the southern county and that it’s still the same day of the Festival of Souls when she went missing two years ago. That’s the strength of Macerio’s power.”

Chapter Nine
    Ward was starving when Allette finally ended the magic lesson and left to tend to her household duties. It was well past noon, and even if the morning’s exercises hadn’t been a complete failure, he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate past his growling stomach, the ache in his head, and the throbbing in his injured arm.
    He shoved out of the chair and headed in search of the kitchen.
    Allette had assured him he’d get it, he just needed more practice. Use his imagination to trick his mind into seeing the magic radiating around her.
    But it didn’t matter how he concentrated, or breathed, or meditated, there was nothing but plain, magic-less reality, whether he stared at her or closed his eyes.
    He couldn’t bring himself to pretend he possessed great magic. It was too heartbreaking. Only a flicker to help him cast wakes and usher the dying across the veil. And he couldn’t even sense that because of his mystical blindness.
    He was magically weak, she was enspelled, and he had bigger problems—like stealing Macerio’s grimoire.
    He was starting to sound like Celia, which left a sour taste in his mouth. But if he didn’t have a lot of magic, he couldn’t free Allette, and if she ran, Macerio would call her back or snuff out her soul.
    An exilo de’U was nasty like that.
    Ward could try casting a counter spell with the magic in someone else’s blood to bolster his lack of power, but he’d need lots to have any hope of overpowering Macerio. He doubted he’d find enough donors to provide all he needed, particularly without killing anyone.
    On top of all of it, he still had no idea how he felt about Allette. He wanted to help her, wanted to believe her story was true, but he’d been burned by the helpless woman act before.
    He rounded the corner to the main wing and tripped on the half-step up to the new