long, Zola?”
Her body sagged and she released a long, shaky breath. Her body trembled slightly and she looked away from me. Her head rocked back and forth as she wiped her eyes. “No …”
I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, and then put my arm around her and waited. She eventually leaned back with a sniffle under the watchful gaze of a thousand ghosts. We shifted up against the earthworks. I pushed my Sight away to bring a false security to my eyes. The walls of the fort faded with the men and cannons. I laid myself down, and locked my gaze on the sky.
“Damn, lot more stars out here than Saint Louis.”
Zola laughed and sniffed. It made me shiver. I’d never seen tears on her face before.
“Ah’m sorry Damian. And thank you.”
I glanced at my master in the moonlight and nodded.
She sighed and stared into the sky with me, the only sounds a distant car on the highway and a handful of chirps from the crickets. “There was a time.” She took a deep breath. “There was a time, child, when necromancers deserved their reputation.”
My mouth curled into a smile. She hadn’t called me child in years. In fact, I don’t think she’d used it since I actually was a child. “You’ve told me that before.” I waited, but she didn’t continue. I asked a question, a question I never thought I would utter in her presence. “How long will you live?”
She laughed, and it was a hollow, lifeless thing. “You are perceptive, boy.” She hung her head. “Ah will live at least eight lifetimes.”
“Eight lifeti-” I scrambled onto one knee and stared at her. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Oh god no, Zola.”
She nodded as a single tear slid down her cheek.
“Who?” I waited, and when she didn’t look at me my temper flared. “Who did you kill?”
She raised her eyes and met my gaze, the hollowness replaced by stone and fire. “Slavers. Every one of them. Philip and I …” She took a deep breath. “Philip was a stable boy. They beat him almost as badly as they beat us. We …” her voice lowered to a vicious whisper “should we have been denied our vengeance?”
“No.” I said without inflection.
Zola looked away and put her hands over her eyes. “God help me.”
“Would that be the God that drowned the world, or the mass of rocks we just talked to?” I smiled and let out a humorless laugh as I stood up. “I don't think either one cares much about a few humans that could pass for demons.”
She picked up her cane and laid it across her lap, slowly running fingers over the knobs. “We killed so many, Damian.”
“Fuck that, Zola.” I shook my head and my voice rose. “Fuck that. You killed the bastards that hurt you. I don’t know the whole story, but Sam told me enough.”
Zola looked up with wide eyes. “She wasn’t supposed to-”
“I know. You only told her to help her cope with the turn, but she told me what they did to you. They beat the shit out of you, and that was only a warm up. The scars on your back are from flails and whips, not from a bloody sledding accident.”
“Damian …”
I held my hand up. “Master, I know I was just a kid, but you didn’t have to lie to me …” I stared at her forearms, “and these …” I grabbed her wrists and locked onto her eyes, so dark in the dim light. The scars were thick and hard beneath my fingers where shackles had torn her skin away so many times. “You were only sixteen years old. They deserved worse.”
Zola pulled her arms away, crossed them, and turned her head to the stars. “Did they?”
“What, you think vengeance can’t be justified? You think vengeance can’t be justice?” I blew a breath out through my nose and stepped away. “Kill a child in front of its mother.”
Zola’s head snapped back toward me and anger creased her forehead.
“Give the child's mother a gun and turn your back. I don't care what religion she is, what color her skin is, what shape her eyes are. You will die before you
Her body sagged and she released a long, shaky breath. Her body trembled slightly and she looked away from me. Her head rocked back and forth as she wiped her eyes. “No …”
I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded, and then put my arm around her and waited. She eventually leaned back with a sniffle under the watchful gaze of a thousand ghosts. We shifted up against the earthworks. I pushed my Sight away to bring a false security to my eyes. The walls of the fort faded with the men and cannons. I laid myself down, and locked my gaze on the sky.
“Damn, lot more stars out here than Saint Louis.”
Zola laughed and sniffed. It made me shiver. I’d never seen tears on her face before.
“Ah’m sorry Damian. And thank you.”
I glanced at my master in the moonlight and nodded.
She sighed and stared into the sky with me, the only sounds a distant car on the highway and a handful of chirps from the crickets. “There was a time.” She took a deep breath. “There was a time, child, when necromancers deserved their reputation.”
My mouth curled into a smile. She hadn’t called me child in years. In fact, I don’t think she’d used it since I actually was a child. “You’ve told me that before.” I waited, but she didn’t continue. I asked a question, a question I never thought I would utter in her presence. “How long will you live?”
She laughed, and it was a hollow, lifeless thing. “You are perceptive, boy.” She hung her head. “Ah will live at least eight lifetimes.”
“Eight lifeti-” I scrambled onto one knee and stared at her. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Oh god no, Zola.”
She nodded as a single tear slid down her cheek.
“Who?” I waited, and when she didn’t look at me my temper flared. “Who did you kill?”
She raised her eyes and met my gaze, the hollowness replaced by stone and fire. “Slavers. Every one of them. Philip and I …” She took a deep breath. “Philip was a stable boy. They beat him almost as badly as they beat us. We …” her voice lowered to a vicious whisper “should we have been denied our vengeance?”
“No.” I said without inflection.
Zola looked away and put her hands over her eyes. “God help me.”
“Would that be the God that drowned the world, or the mass of rocks we just talked to?” I smiled and let out a humorless laugh as I stood up. “I don't think either one cares much about a few humans that could pass for demons.”
She picked up her cane and laid it across her lap, slowly running fingers over the knobs. “We killed so many, Damian.”
“Fuck that, Zola.” I shook my head and my voice rose. “Fuck that. You killed the bastards that hurt you. I don’t know the whole story, but Sam told me enough.”
Zola looked up with wide eyes. “She wasn’t supposed to-”
“I know. You only told her to help her cope with the turn, but she told me what they did to you. They beat the shit out of you, and that was only a warm up. The scars on your back are from flails and whips, not from a bloody sledding accident.”
“Damian …”
I held my hand up. “Master, I know I was just a kid, but you didn’t have to lie to me …” I stared at her forearms, “and these …” I grabbed her wrists and locked onto her eyes, so dark in the dim light. The scars were thick and hard beneath my fingers where shackles had torn her skin away so many times. “You were only sixteen years old. They deserved worse.”
Zola pulled her arms away, crossed them, and turned her head to the stars. “Did they?”
“What, you think vengeance can’t be justified? You think vengeance can’t be justice?” I blew a breath out through my nose and stepped away. “Kill a child in front of its mother.”
Zola’s head snapped back toward me and anger creased her forehead.
“Give the child's mother a gun and turn your back. I don't care what religion she is, what color her skin is, what shape her eyes are. You will die before you
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