Dreams of the Necromancer (Memento Mori Book 2) by Kathryn Ann Kingsley

Author:Kathryn Ann Kingsley [Kingsley, Kathryn Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kathryn Ann Kingsley
Published: 2021-08-17T05:00:00+00:00

14

As the minutes dragged on, Maggie’s eyes began to slowly adjust to the dim light in the tomb. It was going to be a long night, listening to the rain pound on the roof and the rumble of thunder that seemed relentless. Every now and then, she could hear the muffled shouts of the soldiers outside as they combed the cemetery looking for them.

She sat on the sarcophagus in the center of the room and kicked off her sopping wet shoes and peeled off her socks. Going barefoot was better than dealing with sloshy shoes. “Can you magic up dry clothes?”

“Not for you, sadly. I can only summon what I’m wearing. It seems rude not to suffer in solidarity.” He shrugged out of his equally drenched peacoat and made a face as he tossed it aside.

“That isn’t necessary, but thanks.” She chuckled and laid back on the top of the sarcophagus. It was cold, and even though the rain was as well, it was a humid kind of sensation where the stone was dry. She shut her eyes and let out a long breath as she listened to the thunder. “I love storms.”

“As do I.”

“Sorry I nearly got shot.”

“Hardly your fault.”

“I distracted you.” Sitting up for a moment, she pulled off her soaked hoodie as well, and tossed it aside. It left her in just a tank top and jeans, but it was at least one less layer of awful

“Again, not your fault.”

She didn’t really believe him, but sure.

“What were you going to tell me when we returned to my home?”

She laughed quietly again. “You really can’t handle not knowing something, can you?”

“That is precisely what got me where I am now, yes.”

“Fine.” She stretched her arms up over her head, enjoying the feeling of not having wet clothes on her arms. “I was thinking about the nature of freedom.”

“Uh-oh. That does not bode well for me.”

She reached her foot around and poked him in the shoulder with her toe. “Shut up and let me talk for once, will you?”

It was his turn to chuckle, and he fell silent.

“I remember being on that boat, and I said something—something along the lines of ‘I will never get to experience freedom, but I want to stand near it’ or something like that. More eloquently.”

“I recall.”

“What is freedom, though? I mean—really, what is it? You said I could go anywhere in the world, and you’d let me go alone. I believe you. So, it isn’t that. It isn’t travel. Is it money, then? You’re goddamn loaded. I’m sure you’d give me more than I could ever need. Is it because I can’t make money myself? I’m sure I could figure it out if I wanted to. Harry keeps saying I should sell my shitty drawings in the park.”

“Not in as many words, I hope.”

Smirking, she ignored him and kept talking. “Hell, I could get a job at a coffee shop if I wanted to. If independence meant that much to me, I could have it.

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