Sophie III
Matthew Ryan Fischer
“I’m surprised you don’t want to go back for the others.”
“Do you really care?” asked Ariadne.
“So suddenly you’ve gone cold,” said Sophie.
“I’m interested in survival. I would think you’d appreciate that. Speaking
of survival – how’s he doing? Made of stone yet?”
“Darius is fine.”
Neither looked at Darius. He didn’t look fine.
“Maybe we cut that infected arm off. Stop the spread.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
The women stared at each other. Sophie was fairly sure Ariadne
would kill her in a fair fight, but Sophie had never fought in a fair fight and
didn’t intend to start now.
“Relax. It was only talk.”
“Maybe we should back to searching.”
“Fine.”
They glanced over the books as quickly as they could. Sophie
needed help. She was a witch, but her power was nothing compared to the
necromancer. Even if Darius was well and if the cat were still with them, she
doubted they could stop him. They needed luck. Luck to find something here,
either in the library itself or in the remnants of the old village. She was
prepared for the ghosts of old, but the risen dead was beyond her capabilities.
It was too late. The moment was lost and none of it mattered now.
The Necromancer arrived with Nadia. But it wasn’t Nadia. Or it was her body, but
the ghost had taken possession of her.
“Can you take him?” asked Ariadne.
Sophie’s hesitation said it all.
“Try. I’ll take his wife.”
“Save the body if you can. I might be able to save Nadia.”
Ariadne laughed. “Sure. I’ll try.”
Sophie summoned her strength and tried to protect Darius. But the Necromancer
was stronger than their combined best.
While he was distracted, Ariadne snuck up from the Necromancer and
placed her revolver to the back of his head.
I guess we don’t need luck after all, thought Sophie.
Ariadne pulled the trigger and the hammer fell.
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