Necromancer Unleashed: Book 2

  Necromancer Unleashed

  Stones of Amaria Book 2

  by

  Lindsey R. Loucks

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Necromancer Unleashed (Stones of Amaria, #2)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Necromancer Unleashed (Stones of Amaria Book 2) © November 2019 Lindsey R. Loucks

  COPYRIGHT NOTICE: ALL rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  COVER: Design by Definition

  Editing: Heather Hambel Curley

  Stones of Amaria

  Be sure to check out the other authors’ series in the Stones of Amaria world! You don’t have to read them all to understand what happens in this one, but you might as well because books! ☺

  Amazon Series Page

  Facebook Page

  Chapter One

  For nearly three months, Necromancer Academy left me to rot in a cold, dank dungeon below the school while it was decided what to do with me. Three months locked away from anyone but the rats nosing around my cell for scraps. Other than visits from Headmistress Millington and the Ministry of Law Enforcement, the rats had been my constant companions. Them, and all my worries that roiled and festered and darkened until I feared they, and not the rats, would eat away at me until there was nothing left.

  According to the headmistress, rough storms kept delaying the Ministry of Law Enforcement, and by the time they finally got here to throw questions at me like hard stones and question every single student, my hope had shriveled up and died.

  I wasn’t a murderer. Not in the official sense anyway. But my future, at least from within these stone walls, looked grim.

  A door at the far end of the dungeon creaked open. Footsteps hurried down the steps.

  Someone was coming.

  My heartbeat matched their footfalls while unease slithered across my shoulders. I hugged my knees tighter to my chest with my back against the wall, my gaze sharp, my ears even sharper. It didn’t sound like the headmistress’s heels clicking over the stone unless she’d changed into winter boots.

  She’d assured me a hundred times that my roommate, Seph, was fine.

  “She hasn’t been sleepwalking,” she’d told me. “She wishes you were there to keep her company, is all. If I were you, Dawn, I would be more concerned about myself. Are you eating enough? Would you like to write a letter to your parents explaining what’s happened so they can be here for you?”

  No and definitely no. Since I was of age, the Ministry didn’t have to tell my parents anything. One positive in a massive sea of shit.

  But never mind me; it was worry for Seph that had chewed through to my soul these last few months, despite what the headmistress said. She was alone and vulnerable. She’d been sleepwalking all over the school and listening to the whispers of the onyx stone hidden here, telling her to find and activate it. And nearly killing herself in the process. What kind of horrors had she stumbled upon without me there to protect her?

  The footsteps slowed. The torchlights in the hall threw a long, lean shadow across the bars of my cell, and then a pair of flinty gray eyes met mine.

  Ramsey. The guy I’d almost murdered. The sight of him coiled the darkness inside me and wrapped it up in the inferno called my rage, and I fisted my hands, prepared to strike. What was he doing here?

  He came to a stop, his black cloak billowing around him, all bored arrogance and grace. Even the slight lift to his right eyebrow practically screamed it. We stared at each other for an agonizingly long moment.

  "You still think I murdered your brother," he said finally.

  "I’ve been too busy to think otherwise," I snapped. Or I tried to. My voice came out rusty and unused, so I cleared my throat.

  "Are you thirsty?"

  Why would he care if the girl who'd attacked him with a dagger was thirsty or not? I stared at him, unmoving but flinching on the inside. I wished he’d just leave, or kill me, or whatever it was he planned on doing.

  He picked up the pitcher of water that sat next to my uneaten dinner on the low table outside my cell and poured me a glass. Then he knelt, reached the glass through the bars, and set it on the stone ground, his face half hidden in shadow.

  I followed his every move closely, picking him apart so I knew what was coming. But I didn’t.

  "I brought you something," he said, still kneeling. "Tylvia Snider, the sophomore I told you about when you... Well, when you came into my room that day. She found a way to retrieve a vision from her crystal ball and put it inside another so I could take it to you." He fished inside his cloak pocket and then rolled a small glass ball about the size of my fist along the ground.

  It struck my boot. I stayed motionless as I glared at him.

  Heaving a sigh, he stood. "It's right there, Dawn. Proof I didn't murder your brother. Don't you want to know who didn’t do it so you can focus on who did?"

  I didn’t know the answer to that. All I knew was that I hadn’t killed him because he’d planted a seed of doubt that I had no idea what to do with.

  "Fine. Have it your way." He ground his teeth together and turned to leave.

  The door at the end of the hall creaked again.

  "Ramsey Sullivan," a distant voice scolded. "I told you not to come here without my permission."

  He angled his body so his hand flicked through the bars of my cell behind his back, gesturing at the crystal ball. “I think they’re going to let you go,” he murmured, “but when you get out there, don’t trust anyone.”

  What? Let me go? Why was he telling me this?

  "I'm sorry, Headmistress Millington." He smiled warmly down the hall, all innocence and charm. A real smooth guy, this one, but I was onto all of his tricks. "I must've misunderstood."

  Clipped footsteps rushed toward us, the same ones I’d grown accustomed to. "There's not a whole lot to misunderstand about the words ‘don't do that.’ You requested to come down here with me as a show of support for Dawn, and you couldn’t wait the few minutes while I spoke with a student?"

  "I’m so sorry about that, Headmistress. It'll never happen again. Mom says I have selective hearing, but I’m trying to work on it.”

  Lies.

  Still, though, I scooped up the crystal ball by my boot and slipped it into my pocket.

  Ramsey caught the movement and smiled crookedly.

  When the headmistress stopped in front of my cell, appearing to float in her plaid wool dress, she seemed to melt into his charm when she offered a motherly smile. "S
ee that it doesn't happen again." She turned to me, and the smile dropped into a slow grimace. "Dawn, the Ministry of Law Enforcement has concluded their investigation. They would like to speak to you."

  "Again?" I rasped, sounding far away from myself. I'd never really thought too much about what I would do after I killed Ramsey. Leave here, sure, but at the back of my mind, I knew there was a chance I could be caught and questioned. I'd just thought Ramsey would be dead if that happened, not standing outside my cell staring at me.

  She nodded. "In my office."

  "Are they charging me?" I asked.

  The headmistress retrieved a ring of keys from her dress pocket and stuck one into the cell's lock. "That’s for them to tell you."

  “I told them my story countless times,” I said.

  "And it's the same as mine," Ramsey insisted. "We had a misunderstanding, but I'm not hurt in the slightest."

  A real shame. If I hadn't hesitated, hadn't been crushed by my own emotions, I'd have killed him. I know I would have.

  “There are a lot of pieces to the puzzle you don’t even know about, Mr. Sullivan.” The headmistress pulled open the gate, which creaked loudly. “They’re simply trying to fit them together in a way that makes sense.”

  I stood on tingly legs. The cell dampened my magic, and everything I’d had hidden on me like my death charms, my dagger Leo gave me, and my dead man’s hand had been taken. I’d grown so used to their comfort that I almost felt naked without them. Naked...and hollow.

  "Come along,” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “I demanded that the Ministry wait until the students were finished with dinner, but they’re in a hurry to wrap this case up and leave before the next storm hits the island."

  Ramsey backed away to let us out. "So she's to be paraded in front of the whole school like a pig to slaughter?"

  I drilled him with my darkest look.

  He sliced his stormy gaze to mine. "Yeah, yeah. You're not a pig. Not what I meant."

  "I'm afraid so,” the headmistress said. “Come along."

  I started after her and made it four steps before the blood surging through my legs made it to my head in a rush. My vision swam. I started to tilt, but a wall of strength gripped my elbow before I bounced my face off the floor.

  "You okay?" Ramsey asked, his breath catching my ear.

  I yanked away from him. "Fine."

  "Yeah." He rolled his eyes and pulled back, taking the rear as we followed after the headmistress. "I can tell."

  Headmistress Millington regarded the both of us coolly over her shoulder, her lips pinched into nothingness. "As always, you'll want to tell them the truth of course, Dawn. Try not to leave any detail out if they have further questions.” She faced forward again, nearing the long staircase at the end of the hall. "We'll await their decision first."

  "First before what?" I asked.

  "Before my decision,” she said, her voice clipped. “Unless they arrest you, that is."

  A tremor ripped down my spine and ended at the block of ice forming in my gut. If I wound up in jail, I really couldn't argue. I'd tried to kill someone after all, which made me a criminal. A villain. The same girl who'd been so full of white magic and high on life that she used to dance while brushing her hair and had earned a full scholarship to White Magic Academy. Would I rot in prison or would I slip even further into the comfort that my dark thoughts had given me since Leo’s murder?

  But I couldn't go to jail. Because Ramsey was still alive, and if—IF—what he said were true, then a murderer still lurked out there. Their next target? Well, Seph had made it past the one-week point of sleepwalking. Leo hadn't. It curdled my blood at not knowing why though.

  We climbed the steps in silence, and I felt like I was marching to my doom. Ramsey’s gaze prickled along my back, his fingers almost brushing mine on the banister. I jerked them away and rubbed fiercely at the dirt and coal from my hair that surely streaked my face.

  Headmistress Millington stopped at the heavy wooden door and rested her hand on the knob, looking over her shoulder at me. "Ready?"

  I nodded automatically, but of course I wasn't. As soon as she opened the door, there was nothing I could’ve done to prepare myself for the instant stillness in the entryway. The students’ silence suffocated. Their stares cut deep. Shame beat through me with the rapid thud of my heart and flushed my skin. I kept their gazes and searched for the one face I most wanted to see, but she wasn't anywhere.

  One thing I did notice was how few students milled about at such a busy time of day. Where had everyone gone?

  "Don't get too close," one guy who I thought was a senior Diabolical muttered after the headmistress had passed. He shoved a nearby girl behind him. "She'll chew your face off and feed it to the ravens."

  "Oh yeah," a blonde murmured, gazing at me out of the corner of her eye. "Just look at her. She's got killer written all over her."

  A girl who could've been her twin nodded. "That's called filth, but I see your point."

  Trial by my peers. No matter what I said or did, I would always be guilty to them.

  I glanced over my shoulder, realizing that Ramsey had conveniently vanished before being seen with me. The girl who'd tried and failed to kill him. I was no expert on the fragility of male egos, but it must've bruised his. Maybe more than his balls after I'd kneed them during my attack. A girl could hope and dream.

  As we stepped through the double doors into the classroom wing, I rubbed my elbow against my pocket where the crystal ball was, and then all my doubts and worries built higher and higher, stone by stone, just like the tall arched door we stood outside of to a room I'd never been in before.

  Headmistress Millington rapped on it and then opened it. "Oh. All done, Echo?"

  Echo came out, all brawn and height and definitely not my biggest admirer. She'd been in there talking to the Ministry? She'd gotten so mad at me during the séance that I still felt her punch in my jaw sometimes.

  "Yeah, I told them everything," she said, a knife's edge to her tone. "I keep asking them why they haven’t charged and arrested you yet." Then she stalked off without another word, her long blonde hair bouncing behind her.

  My shoulders sagged as the hard truth lowered over me with crushing weight. I was a terrible person, proved yet again when I didn't close the spirit door when I should've during our séance. The ghosts had nearly dragged her over to the other side just so I could get answers from Leo. Whatever happened on the other side of this door, whatever sentence waited for me, I deserved it.

  Headmistress Millington held the door wide for me, a frown on her pinched lips. "I can't pretend to know what you've gone through with the death of your brother, but...good luck, Dawn."

  I nodded, only kind of hearing her over the crash of my heartbeat as I entered the room, my chin held high.

  Three men sat behind the headmistress’s desk, parchment and ink and quills spread in front of them. Despite the size of the office and detailed paintings of past headmasters on the walls, the room was surprisingly bare. Just a desk and chairs and a chill in the air.

  "Ms. Cleohold," the man in the middle said, waving to the empty seat in front of him. He was the one I’d spoken to most often, the one with kind brown eyes and a mustache.

  I sat, the sound of the door closing behind me making me jump a little.

  “We’ve been over and over your testimony regarding the events of what happened on September thirteenth, but we do have some follow-up questions before we wrap up this case. Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Vickie Sloane?"

  My stomach bottomed out through the cold stone floor even though he’d asked this same question before. Vickie had been violently murdered, her body twisted in a similar fashion as the doll I'd put it in my pocket when I attacked Ramsey. My target had always been him, though, not the vicious girl who liked to dangle me off of staircases.

  "No," I said.

  "Why was a doll with her hair in your pocket?"

  "Because I p
ut it there and forgot about it."

  "Was the dolls yours?"

  "No, it was..." I couldn't throw Seph to these wolves, and she hadn't done it anyway, because she'd been with me. Unless she'd had the doll with her when we'd gone to the library and then set it down on her desk when we came back to our— No. Seph wouldn't do that. She wouldn't kill anyone. "No, it wasn't mine. I don’t know whose it was."

  He made a mark on one of his parchments, which was rolled at the top so I couldn’t see. "What happened between you and Ramsey in his dorm room on the afternoon of September thirteenth?"

  Yet another question he’d asked me again and again. I sucked in a slow breath to put out the flames in my battling conscience. True, I'd made some mistakes. Some might argue many. But nothing had really changed. Leo was still dead, and Ramsey... I felt the bulge of the crystal ball hugging my hip, the same place where the dead man's hand had been. A ball of doubt had literally taken the place of shadowy revenge.

  "It was a misunderstanding."

  "A lovers' quarrel?"

  My eyes widened, but I quickly looked away to hide my shock. Lovers? "Um. Sure. Yes."

  The man sat back in his chair and nodded, a wistful smile curling his mouth and mustache. "I've been married for thirteen years, and if I may offer you some advice. Talk whatever problems you're having out first. Rubber knives just don't get the point across."

  The men at his sides howled with laughter.

  I blinked. "Rubber knife?"

  Shaking his head, he rolled up his parchment. "We're done here, Ms. Cleohold. You’re free to go."

  "But..." The knife I'd held to Ramsey's throat could cut through almost anything. Not rubbery in the slightest. Had...had someone put a spell on it? My mind went round and round, highlighting too many things at once about what had happened, and not just about the knife.

  He'd said we were done, that I was free to go. The three men were already dismissing me, as in...letting me walk out of here?

  "But what about Vickie?" I blurted.

  "A terrible accident. She must've hit a step wrong and took a tumble." Frowning, the man glanced up, seeing that I hadn't made a move to stand. "There was no sign of foul play. No magic, on her or that doll you found with her hair."