What Blood Leaves Behind (The Poison Rose) by Delany Beaumont

care of the younger ones.”
    “But she killed Gideon!” Moira splutters, incredulous. “That’s the whole point of this ceremony. It’s a ceremony of death.”
    “We can dispose of her later,” Aisa says. “If she can’t behave. What can she do? Where can she go? We have the ones she was taking care of. She’s just a rat caught by a whole lot of cats. We can play with her for a while.”
    The one called Doon stands close to Moira, murmurs urgently in her ear.
    Aisa, still speaking to everyone around her, says, “You can’t force us, Moira. What are you going to do, put us in cages, like her ? Don’t any of you want to come with me? Be brave. Step forward. I promise she won’t hurt you.”
    Suddenly, as if he’d been listening to every word that’s been said, Gideon’s body sucks in a deep, shuddering breath. Just one breath, no more. His chest rises and falls.
    All movement stops. Everything is hushed. Moira takes a torch and holds it over him, slowly inspecting the entire length of his body.
    “Maybe we can’t be killed,” someone whispers.
    Moira calls out, “Needle, come here.”
    Another specter in black rustles forward and bends low over Gideon’s body while Moira holds her torch aloft. Like before, her face is averted from the torch’s glare. Their eyes must be sensitive, I think. Can’t stand bright light.
    The hands of the one called Needle are plainly visible in the torchlight. They have long tapered fingers that move like the thin waving tubes of a sea anemone. Each finger ends with a nail like a purple half-moon.
    Needle uses these fingers to unzip Gideon’s jacket and unbutton the top of a black shirt he wears underneath. Needle lowers his head, a dark oval concealed by the hood he wears, to Gideon’s chest. He presses an ear against the milky skin and listens. He pulls back, turns to the others and says, “I don’t hear anything. His heart isn’t—”
    Then I see Gideon’s lower jaw draw back like someone is tugging it loose and he takes another deep, ragged breath. I look away, start to scramble back. It’s a corpse coming to life, something that should not be happening, that I should not be seeing. Against nature. Beyond understanding.
    Gideon takes one more breath and stops. His mouth snaps shut. Teeth click.
    Moira says, gasping, astounded, “He’s not dead. We can revive him.” Her voice is trembling with expectation. “We need to take him home with us. You stay with him, Needle. Don’t leave him for a second.”
    Needle holds up his right hand, the long fingers quivering in the torchlight. He turns back to the body. I see him take one slim, pale finger and press it against the hole in Gideon’s skull. Then I see him let his finger worm its way inside the wound.
    Seconds later, Needle’s head rockets back and his back stiffens as if he’s just been electrocuted. He shakes and twitches, like the dancers did earlier. Moira stares at him, fascinated. Needle’s shoulders finally slump and he jerks his hand away. He steps back from the body and turns to the others. His face is shrouded in darkness. “Well?” Moira says softly.
    “Dreams,” he says, stunned. His voice is a hoarse whisper, like that of a heavy smoker trying to tell a secret. “Unbelievable dreams. They flooded into me. From him.”
    He paces back and forth in front of the column bearing Gideon’s body.
    “Maybe he’s changed again. Yes, that’s it. I think he’s evolving into something else, a higher form.”
    “How could a bullet to the head do that?”
    Needle shakes his head. “We should take him home. He’s stuck somewhere, halfway. Maybe he will come back, maybe he won’t. But we can share his dreams.”
    The Black Riders watching the spectacle begin chattering, moving among each other.
    Moira holds her torch up once more, raises her voice. “I think we should save the bickering for another day. Let’s take Gideon home now.” She stares at Aisa across the space above Gideon’s body.