Dream Chaser (Bailey Spade 3)

Exozar leaves, and Rowan plays with Frank for a while longer.

We should play more, Pom says in my head.

I pet his furry foot. You’re right. Once I’m out of deadly peril, we’ll make playing a regular thing.

The door Exozar left through opens again, and a new person steps in.

The hawkish nose and the other facial features match those on the mask that a giant zombie wore when we faced the Parliament.

Of course. This is Keyser, Rowan’s betrothed.

And he doesn’t look pleased. Quite the opposite.

Turning, Rowan asks him something, her tone playful.

He shouts at her.

Eyes narrowing, she shouts back.

His nostrils flare, and he grits something out—clearly an insult.

Rowan looks like she’s been slapped.

Frank advances on Keyser, baring his very sharp teeth.

Keyser shouts again and kicks the poor creature like a football as Rowan lunges forward with a cry.

Frank smashes into the wall and slides down in a limp heap.

Pom’s feet dig painfully into my shoulder.

Rowan rushes over to her furry friend, her face a mask of such grief that I almost make myself visible and give her a hug. I can’t even imagine what she’s feeling. If I ever lost Pom—

No, I can’t even think about it.

Looking unrepentant, Keyser shouts one more time and slams the door on the way out.

Rowan kneels next to her pet, tears streaming down her face.

“Please, please, please,” she whispers in English. “Don’t be dead.”

There’s no response from the creature, and from the way Rowan’s face crumples, it’s obvious her plea wasn’t answered. Bending over the pet, she sobs, rocking back and forth and muttering a mix of English curses and harsh-sounding Necronian words.

Then her sobs cease and her jaw sets in a stubborn line. “I’m going to bring you back,” she whispers raggedly. “It’ll be our little secret.”

Standing up, she extends her hands, pointing at the little corpse. A blinding energy beam shoots out of her fingertips, one that looks very different from what she used when she resurrected the messenger earlier.

Frank stirs.

Kneeling over him again, she pets his fur, a watery smile appearing on her face.

Frank’s gaze is unfocused, but he’s clearly not dead anymore.

“Thank goodness,” Pom exclaims. “I was worried she’d lost him for good.”

Dude, you spoke out loud, I mentally answer.

Rowan looks up from Frank, wiping the wetness off her cheeks. “Is someone here?”

I debate if I should answer.

“Can the books be true?” she asks Frank. “Is Mor already punishing me for my sin?”

Frank doesn’t reply, but I’ve made my decision now, so I make myself visible and clear my throat.

She looks at me, eyes wild. “By Mor, where did you come from?”

“You’re dreaming,” I say soothingly. “Remember how I was going to pull you into Exozar’s dreams to help me translate? Well, I’m here, and I caught you reliving a painful memory, that’s all.”

She rubs her forehead. “You saw the whole thing?”

I nod somberly. “Sorry about Frank.”

“Me too,” Pom says.

Her gaze darts to my shoulder, and her eyes widen to comical levels.

I explain what Pom is in the simplest terms I can. When I finish, Rowan gives me an imploring look. “Please don’t tell anyone what you saw.”

“I’m not actually sure what I saw,” I say. “Is Frank an unusual zombie or something?”

Rowan bends down and grabs the opossum-like creature off the floor. “He’s not a zombie at all.”

“I meant a helper,” I say.

“He’s not really a helper either.” She strokes Frank’s fur. “Only the most powerful necromancers can do what I did, and all of us are forbidden from doing it. Usually, when we raise a body, the soul—or consciousness—is gone from the resulting entity, letting the necromancer have control. But it is possible to do something different with a very fresh corpse. You just bring the life back without taking control. It’s forbidden, but I’m a horrible excuse for a necromancer.” She glances at the door, and I get the feeling that must be one of the things Keyser yelled at her.

“As far as I know,” she continues, “Frank is the only being that has been brought back in this forbidden way. If the others found out about it, they’d kill me and destroy Frank.”

Pom eyes Frank warily. “Is he the same as he was before he died?”

Averting her gaze, Rowan sets her pet down. “There have been changes. I’d rather not talk about it, though.”

“It’s fine,” I say before Pom can insist. “We should jump into Exozar’s dreams.”

I teleport us to the tower of sleepers, leaving Frank behind.

“Wow.” Rowan twirls in place, gaping at our surroundings. “Where is this?”

I explain it as well as I can and fill her in on how the investigation is going to proceed.

“Wait,” she says. “You did that to me, didn’t you?”

“We’ve just met,” I say unapologetically.

“Fair enough. But won’t Exozar see me? Or hear when I translate for you?”

I mentally say, How about we talk like this?