Coal didn’t knock. Much like his own house, the door was unlocked, because who in their right mind breaks into the house of a sorcerer, let alone one like Reason Winters? Even if she wasn’t a sorcerer now, even if the rumours were false and she didn’t still have her memories, she would still be very dangerous. The knowledge they had left behind would be enough. Even worse, she was a borrower, an infuser. She would have access to nearly every kind of magic, including Coal’s own. She would not be able to bind him or outright beat him in raw power but she had enough arsenal to put them on very even footing. She was also the only witch who had ever managed to routinely best him in a sword fight, with the exception of Lucifer. Then again, that had been high school and it had been years.
She would know he was here. Of that he was certain.
The house was relatively modern, built sometime during his lifetime, completely out of wood rather than a stone outside like his own. Wood was generally considered safer these day, although it very much depended on the wood. There was a type of tree that was practically fireproof, heat resistant enough to withstand brief attacks from even dragonfire, although it did tend to blacken during the process. It was a tree that had once been quite rare but years of directed attempts at improving cultivation had grown its numbers greatly. The wood of this house was a dark brown and Coal would not have been surprised if it was from that very tree.
It wouldn’t have been cheap and it was far more commonly used in the construction of skyscrapers than in country housing, but then Reason’s parents were warlocks, and this had been their summer home.
“Bold move entering a sorcerer’s home without knocking,” spoke a voice, as Coal entered into the main area of the house.
Reason Winters sat on a bar stool at a large speckled marble kitchen island. The room they were in was long and open. At the front, three steps dropped down into a medium-sized atrium with comfy chairs, bean bags, and rolled up projector screen. Glass lined all exposed sides and the view looked down a gently sloping hill, surrounded by forest, toward a lake. Other houses had been built around the lake, each one also nestled among pines and sometimes subtly manicured lawns designed to fit in within the forest setting. Each house had its own private little jetty.
Reason lived well out of the Greenstone Valley and far to the north of even the city of Mercy, several hours drive from Little Rock. But Coal had not driven. If Reason could give him what he was looking for then the teleportation jump would be more than worth it.
“I thought your parents were warlocks,” he replied without missing a beat. He spared Reason a glance and then returned his gaze to the window. It was a beautiful view. He understood why she had chosen to live here.
“My parents have their own places. They might come here in summer occasionally but for the rest of the year it’s mine.”
“Your siblings live here too don’t they?” Coal inquired. Reason would hate the small talk. She’d always been a very blunt person but Coal was in the habit of it and the truth was, he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle Reason. He needed a little time to suss her out and see if she’d changed much. He didn’t think she had, which might be problematic because even on her best days Reason had never been particularly reasonable. Reason made Cat look like an agreeable person.
Coal knew of many things that Reason hated but few that she liked. Even less in number were the things that Reason could not source for herself. She lacked very little beyond manners. Sure it had been years since he’d last seen her but he didn’t think she had changed. She didn’t even look that different.
Her long red hair was still tied back out of the way in a tight plait. She’d always been fit and fast on her feet and it looked like she’d be just as much a physical challenge now as she had been then. He had no doubt he could take her without a sword if magic were also forbidden but he doubted the opportunity would ever arise. Sorcery school did have quite stringent requirements in addition to mental and magical ones. You didn’t get in unless you were physically capable or extremely skilled in all other areas enough to make up for it. But a lot of sorcerers once they graduated tended to lose interest in the more physical pursuits. Many ended up skinny from too much time spent in their labs and books and not enough time in the kitchen, or they got fat from the sheer laziness of using magic for everything. Sure, magical energy wasn’t free but good sorcerers tended to be extremely efficient. A plump sorcerer was a dangerous one.
Of course given the natures of magic available, a sorcerer’s true from wasn’t always obvious at first glance. Few of them indulged in such extravagances though. Vanity had always been more the marker of the aristocrats, and Reason of all people had never been particularly interested in appearances. Her focus had always been on the more practical matters. One thing he knew she did like was winning. Winning was no fun if it came easy though and she wouldn’t appreciate being handed a victory, so how did he make it so they both won today? Especially given she didn’t like to play by the rules. While she wouldn’t want an easy win, nor did she appreciate the nuances of the negotiation game quite like he and other aristocrats did.
“They do on occasion,” Reason replied. Her tone was standoffish. She would tire of his polite calmness quickly. He should get to the point.
Technically, he had several points to cover today. That might actually make things a little easier.
“I heard you’re not a sorcerer anymore either,” he said, turning to face her. Now that he felt like he’d gotten her vibe, he would need to play close attention to her reactions.
She didn’t dress like a sorcerer, with their loose and flowing clothing, the sort that always hid many pockets, some large enough to fit books in. But then she never had. Nor like an aristocrat, with fitted suits and fine fabrics. She dressed more like a common witch, simple jeans and a brown, slightly off-shoulder sweater. Her features weren’t soft but nor were they as sharp as the likes of Cat. Her eyes were grey, overcast like the sky on a cloudy day. They matched her mood for she rarely smiled. The only times Coal could remember her ever being happy was when she’d won a joust and then her smiles had never been subtle, more like a gleeful shout or yell, an ‘in-your-face’ sort of sneer. They were rarely sad either, always alert, sometimes curious, often angry, but rarely sad. Only once had Coal seen that, when he’d come across her alone one day during their time at school. In the few seconds before she’d noticed him she had looked sad. She’d sent him such a look of furiosity a moment later though that he hadn’t dared stick around to find anything more out.
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Reason snorted.
Before she could reply he added hastily, “But that you still have your memories?”
His question gave her pause. Everything else had been a statement but not this. She thought about her words before she said them but when they came out they still somehow managed to sound flippant.
“Not that it matters to you. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you.” Despite the words her tone was actually more approachable now though. As if it wasn’t him that she was angry at.
It made sense to Coal. He made a mental note of it. Hate and love were opposites. Where one was found, then so could the other be found. Reason hated authority and rules. Thus Reason liked breaking the rules. She wasn’t supposed to be talking to him. That it was forbidden was enough of a reason alone for her to do so.
“They expect you to live without an income?” he asked.
It earned him a rare smile. It only lasted a moment though, gone with another scoff. “They expect me not to sell to aristocrats.” She sighed. “It doesn't matter anyway. They stripped me of everything I had and cut me off from most of my sources. It’ll take me awhile to build my contacts back up. So even if I wanted to trade with you I probably don’t have whatever it is you want. And I’m not saying I do want to trade with you.”
But she was. Coal could tell from her tone of voice. He could also tell that she was worried someone might be listening. It was possible. The chances of spies were high, whether by seer or electronic bugs, given she’d just been kicked out of Myst.
“Well, I wasn’t coming here for sorcery. You’ve always been a good necromancer, even before you became a sorcerer. I wouldn’t be looking for anything you wouldn’t have been able to trade before.”
“I thought you had a necromancer? A real one.”
“Yes, emphasis on the had.”
“You didn’t set up blood bind?”
“They still require someone to cast them.”
Reason didn’t say anything, she simply shook her head. It was ever so slight, and he had somehow earned a second rare smile. Perhaps she had changed since high school. She did seem somewhat calmer than her younger self, happier even, despite the fact that she’d just been made an ex-sorcerer.
Coal frowned. An automatically triggered necromancy ritual was something he’d never heard of, not that you couldn’t do such things with other magic, but necromancy had always been a delicate art as it was. The fact she had said so also suggested that was not knowledge she was meant to share. Of course, knowing it was possible was not the same as doing it.
“It is a tricky art,” she said finally. “I’m surprised though, I thought you lot had lawyers to watch your lawyers. Now you’re telling me you don’t have necromancers to resurrect your necromancers?”
“A lot of them aren’t a fan of it.”
“Mmm, I suppose not. They don’t trust each other anymore than the lawyers do. And given the ways it can go wrong... Fools though. I’d rather see death coming so I can fight the damn thing.”
“There’s no cure for a poorly done necromancy though is there?” Coal asked.
Reason laughed. “Not unless you want to meddle with time, and we all know the difficulties with that. Everyone knows the old rhyme. ‘A step through time to save one, will lose you two before the day is done.’”
“’A step through time to save two, and you’ll forget just what was true.’ I thought you sorcerers would have mastered time travel by now.”
Another smile but no answer. She wasn’t going to break all their rules evidently. “What was it you were hoping to find here and which I can provide you with?” she asked more seriously.
“I can’t ask the necromancers guild. They won’t permit a resurrection of one who hasn’t paid for it.”
“They do it at the bequest of family all the time... Oh... she explicitly prohibited it didn’t she? And you need a dark necro because you don’t plan to honor her wishes.”
“Most necromancy contracts are pre-organised,” he corrected. “But you are right, she wasn’t a fan of the idea, although not explicitly against it. The issues is they’d never be quick about granting one and there are other circumstances surrounding the death I’d rather not have anyone looking too closely at.”
She nodded. “By the time they granted one, they’d probably say it had been too long. How long has it been?”
“A few days.”
Reason gave a small laugh. “Not impossible but definitely past your basic infusement. And you’re going to need a lot of blood.”
“Blood’s not a problem.”
She raised an eyebrow. “But like I said, I’m not a necro, and most of my infusement sources were sorcerers. They aren’t allowed to sell to me anymore. Maybe in a few months I’d have that sort of magic but it wouldn’t be you I would be selling to and even if you got your hands on one by that point the chances of a permanent resurrection are dwindling. You’d be lucky if you got a zombie, far more likely to end up with a ghoul and those things are nasty tricksters.”
“There’s nothing else you can think of?”
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I’d suggest you find a new necro. I can’t help you with that. Not now. Not in a few months either.”
“What about necromancy infusements in general then and maybe a lesson or two? Nothing more than what you already knew before. It would be chaper than relying on the necromancy guild.” He didn’t mention it would also mean less scrutiny from the council and friends of those who worked for them. Information didn’t stay secret long once multiple people knew about it, no matter how independent the guild claimed to be. He was walking a line legally but as long as it wasn’t the sorcerer’s laws they wouldn’t care.
Reason scoffed. “That sort of thing would require us interacting. If the sorcerers deem anything I do enough of a threat they will come and take my memories.”
“We’re interacting right now.” Her words had hinted that she would allow purchases of infusements through another channel but for the sorts of things Coal desired, he preferred a little less changing of hands. Not that it wouldn’t work long term or be better even, but certain things like lessons in necromancy could not be done through a 3rd party.
“And on that note, it’s about time you left.”
“I have a book I think belongs to you.” He held it up, the one that Stella had given him. “It’s nothing special, left behind in my library, I don’t know exactly when, but it has your initials in the front.”
They weren’t her initials exactly. Coal did not know whose they were, but he suspected Reason would, and that in some sense they belonged to her. There was after all, nothing else special about that book. Every word he spoke was technically the truth, just in case the eavesdropper could detect lies. He was careful with his words, just as Reason had been careful with hers.
She frowned and narrowed her eyes at him. Cautiously she took the book.
“On the inside cover,” Coal prompted.
She opened the book up and her expression immediately changed. Her eyes grew wide. She sat up straighter and her mouth fell open slightly. Her fingers gently traced the initials on the page as if they were something precious. Then she slammed the book shut and stared at him as if on the brink of asking a question but unsure how to word it.
After a few moments of silence she said very carefully, “I suppose it’s possible we might have some of yours here as well. I’ll have a look and send them over if I find any, but uh, I’m probably going to be quite busy for the next few months at least.”
“That’s fine. I’m in no hurry.” He waved a hand at the book she clutched. “I’m sure there are some of yours I’ve probably missed.”
With that he turned and left. Stella had been right. Reason hadn’t been able to give him what he had wanted. And that was Natasha back. While he missed her deeply, the loss of her as a necromancer was just as much of an issue. He would keep looking for a way to resurrect Natasha but in the meantime adding Reason Winters as a future ally and potential source of high quality infusements was not a poor consolation prize at all.