The Necromancer (Amber Lee Mysteries Book 3) by Katerina Martinez Page A

for the sky. The air was cold and chilly, but no wind was blowing. And around our feet, tendrils of mist were writhing around, parting at our approach and quickly joining at our backs as if to trap us in the woods.
    When we reached Collette she was already waiting by the door to her broken cottage, but her visage mirrored that of the dilapidated building at her back. She was sunken, supporting herself against the stone with both hands to keep from falling over. Collette looked about ready to pass out, so I dashed the last couple of yards toward her and grabbed her by the waist.
    “I’ve got you,” I said, and she held onto me.
    “I am sorry,” she said, “I am weak.”
    “It’s alright. Damien, go inside and grab the bag of food I brought for her. We might need it.”
    Damien did as I asked and Frank helped me straighten Collette out.
    “Are you sure you can do this?” I asked, “You look like you need to rest.”
    “I have rested enough,” she said, “And I fear that if I close my eyes, I may never open them again.”
    “Then we have to get this started,” Frank said, “Before it’s too late.”
    Collette was in no position to argue.
    When Damien returned Collette led us away from the cottage, through the woods, and toward a cold, still lake. The lake couldn’t have been that deep, but the ambient darkness made it seem endless. The water was silent, lapping inaudibly at the rocks by its bank while a mantle of mist floated eerily above it.
    “Here?” I asked.
    Collette nodded. “Yes,” she said, “I cannot open a gate for us to enter without a body of water now, not in my condition.”
    “What do you need us to do?” I asked.
    “Nothing. Stand back, and be ready to enter the pond when I say.”
    “Enter?” Frank asked. “In there?”
    I was also worried about the idea of stepping into the lake. Not because it was the middle of the night—I had gone skinny dipping before—but I didn’t think that being soaked through would help us one bit in the Underworld. I shuddered at the thought of how cold it would be in there. But Damien stepped in.
    He placed a hand on my shoulder and uttered a few silent words. In seconds, my body temperature shot up. It was as if I had a fever but I wasn’t shaking or ill. After a few moments I got used to the heat to the point that I didn’t notice it.
    “What did you just do to me?” I asked.
    Damien repeated the process with Frank and then Collette. “It’ll take less time for us to dry off this way.”
    “That’s one way to do it,” Frank said.
    “Thank you, Damien,” Collette said, “Now, midnight approaches and I must concentrate.”
    We stood back as Collette stepped into the pond. Slowly, her form began to sink beneath the surface of the calm waters as snakes of mist circled around her—claiming her. When the water was at her waist she stopped and raised her hands a few inches off the surface. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but a cold wind was starting to blow in from behind us.
    At least, that’s what it felt like for a second.
    A second later, it seemed as though all of the ambient heat from around us was being sucked towards her. It wasn’t the wind that was moving; it was the warmth, the life. And with each passing second I felt my breath being sucked right from out of my lungs. Frank and Damien were also having trouble breathing, and we looked at each other with alarm, wondering when it would end.
    Only that it didn’t.
    The suction continued, and as I watched the thin layer of mist above the lake I saw it too get sucked into the calm waters of the murky lake. The surface was shaking now, tiny ripples forming directly beneath Collette’s palms and extending toward the shore. And as the ripples touched dry land, I noted that the water was blacker than even the night. No stars were reflecting upon its surface. No faces. No ambient light could pierce the dark.
    Then Collette plunged her palms into the water and the suction stopped.