The Temple of Healing received corpses with the same bureaucy it applied to everything else. Forms were filled out. Causes of death were categorized. Next of kin were notified if known, filed under ?pending notification? if not.

  Jarek fell firmly into the ?pending? category, there his body lay in the clean and empty morgue, its stone walls catching every single sound of soft footsteps and waterdrops, echoing them throughout the empty space.

  ?Impalement via structural collapse,? Erma said, making notes on a ledger that had columns for every conceivable form of death and some that required significant imagination. ?During beast encounter. Splinters in the wound. So you fought the Beast, survived, and somehow he fell and got impaled on wood as if he was a vampire down on his luck??

  ?Yes,? Reyn said.

  ?Wait, vampire’s are real?!? Venn backed two steps.

  Erma rose an eyebrow. ?Of course.?

  Reyn shrugged. ?I’ve cleared some hives during my training. They are quite the nuisance in Bormecia at times.?

  ?Nuisance?!? Venn looked pale.

  ?Anyway,? Erma said, ?he will be prepared for standard burial rites tomorrow unless claimed.?

  ?We need to find his wife first,? Venn said, staring at Jarek’s still form on the preparation table. They’d cleaned him up, removed the beam, made him look peaceful. He looked like someone taking a very deep nap.

  ?Without a name? Good luck with that.? Erma’s tone wasn’t unkind. ?We’ll post notices, but without knowing where he’s from or his surname…?

  ?There’s a spell,? Venn said suddenly, the words tumbling out before she’d fully thought them through. ?Speaking with the dead. I read about it back at my temple.?

  Erma’s expression shifted from trained sympathy to sharp disapproval. ?That’s a Mage-level spell. You’re still an acolyte.?

  ?But it exists.?

  ?It exists for fully consecrated Mages . It requires three casters working in perfect harmony. Reaching toward the realms of the dead alone could—?

  ?Kill me, yes, I read that part too.? Venn’s chin lifted with the same stubborn determination that had made her attempt the Trial despite warnings. ?But it would work.?

  ?Absolutely not.? Erma’s tone brooked no argument. ?Even if you were qualified, which you’re not, we’d need two other Mages to—?

  ?One,? Venn said, pointing at Erma. ?Two,? pointing at another Healer who’d been pretending not to eavesdrop. ?And with me, three!?

  ?No.?

  ?Then I’ll have to do it alone.?

  The silence that followed held its breath before a scream. Every Healer in earshot turned to stare at Venn with expressions ranging from horror to disbelief, to some mild amusement.

  ?You’ll die,? Erma said without changing her tone one pitch. ?The spell requires three casters because reaching out of the realm of the living would burn out a single person’s life force. You’d be a corpse talking to a corpse.?

  ?Maybe,? Venn said. ?Or maybe I’m stronger than you think.?

  Reyn, who’d been silently observing from the doorway, finally spoke. ?This is stupid.?

  ?Yes,? Venn agreed.

  ?You could die.?

  ?Probably.?

  ?For someone we’ve known for a few weeks. Who tried to kill us, remember.?

  ?He died helping us? Venn’s voice cracked slightly. ?He fell off a beam fighting a rabbit with us, and his last thoughts were about his wife and whether Death rides horses. His wife deserves this, he deserves this, I deserve this.?

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  Reyn studied the younger woman for a long moment. Something had changed in Venn since the Trial. Not confidence exactly, but a kind of determined recklessness. The willingness to break rules when breaking them was right. Reyn knew Venn was right. It was the right thing to do, but it was also dangerous and wouldn’t amount to anything other than closure.

  ?Fine,? Reyn said. ?What do you need??

  ?You can’t seriously be considering this!? Erma said, for once visibly exasperated by the young acolyte’s determination.

  ?I’m not a Mage,? Reyn interrupted. ?But I’m Bormecian. We have… reserves. If it’s just about life drain, magical or whatever, I'll probably handle it better than most.?

  ?That’s not how magic or works!? Erma protested.

  ?Isn’t it?? Venn was already moving, gathering supplies with the focus of someone who’d made a decision and refused to unmake it. ?Magic is magic, and it requires will and control. Reyn has more will than anyone I know. And control… well, she has Rage.?

  ?Rage isn’t magic!?

  ?Prove it,? Venn said, meeting the elder’s gaze without flinching. Well, without cowering.

  The argument might have continued, but the younger Healer who’d been eavesdropping stepped forward. ?I’ll help.?

  Everyone turned to stare at him. He was barely older than Venn, with the nervous energy of someone perpetually worried about breaking rules.

  ?Marcus,? Erma said warningly.

  ?She’s right,? Marcus said, though his voice shook and sweat was already forming underneath his curly locks. ?Everyone deserves to have their loved ones know what happened. And…? he glanced at Venn, ?sometimes one has to do what’s right.?

  Erma threw up her hands. ?Fine! When you all die, I’m writing ‘terminal stupidity’ as cause of death.?

  ?Fair,? Venn said, already drawing ritual circles around Jarek’s body with blessed chalk.

  The preparation took an hour. Circles within circles, carefully inscribed with symbols that Venn had to check three times in a book she definitely wasn’t supposed to have. Candles at specific points. Incense that made everyone’s eyes water.

  ?You sure about this?? Reyn asked, taking her position at one of the circle’s three points.

  ?No,? Venn said as she lit a bowl of ground herbs that smelled like a horse’s manure.

  Marcus took the third position, hands already trembling. ?What exactly happens if this goes wrong??

  ?I don’t know.? Venn positioned herself at the circle’s apex. ?If I remember correctly, our souls would get pulled into the space between life and death and we become ghasts.?

  ?Oh good,? Marcus said, his shoulder slumping. ?I was worried it might be dangerous.?

  ?It is dangerous,? Reyn said, not sure how the kid couldn't tell from what Venn just said. She noticed the others glancing at her, and she steadied her footing. ?Oh.?

  ?Ready?? Venn asked.

  No one was ready. They did it anyway.

  The spell began as whispers, three voices speaking words through Venn, in a language that predated common speech. The candles flickered, dimmed, then blazed and became purple and bright. The chalk lines began to glow with a light that hurt to look at directly.

  Reyn felt the pull immediately. Something reaching into her, trying to draw out someyhing within that she didn’t know she had. Her instinct was to resist, but Venn’s voice cut through:

  ?Don’t fight it! Let it flow!?

  So she did. And felt the Rage respond, not with violence but with raw power, feeding into the spell like coal into a furnace.

  Marcus made a sound between a gasp and a whimper. His face had gone pale, sweat beading on his forehead. But he held position, maintaining the chant even as he looked like he wanted to run and hide someplace far, far away.

  The air above Jarek’s body shimmered. Twisted and whirled, pulling the floating dust in a whirl. And then, like smoke taking form, Jarek sat up.

  Not his body, of course. That remained still as a rock by a creek. But a purple, translucent version, looking mildly confused and significantly more see-through than he’d been in life.

  ?Oh,? ghost-Jarek said. ?This is unexpected.?

  ?Jarek!? Venn’s voice was strained. The spell was pulling harder now, demanding more than she had to give. ?We need to know your wife’s name!?

  ?My wife?? He looked around, seemed to notice his own body beneath him. ?Oh right. Dead. That’s… inconvenient.? He paused. ?Strange.?

  ?Your wife’s name!? Reyn growled through gritted teeth. She could feel Venn weakening and Marcus about to collapse, and she pulled on the Rage a little at a time to take most of the drain from them.

  ?Meredith!? Jarek said with a surprised face, as if the name had been hiding and finally decided to show itself. ?Meredith Baer! She runs a loaning house on Brass Street in Lower Valemark. Has a mole on her left cheek that she’s very sensitive about. Throws things when angry. Excellent aim.?

  ?Yes! Anything else?? Venn gasped. The light was fading from the circles.

  ?Tell her…? Jarek’s form was already dissipating. ?Tell her I remembered the vegetables. She always said I’d forget my own funeral if she wasn’t there to remind me, but I remembered about the vegetables. She’ll know what it means.?

  ?What vegetables?? Reyn asked, as if that was important life-altering information.

  But Jarek was fading fast. ?Also, the money I hid is under the third flagstone from the back door. She’ll need it. And tell her not to remarry that baker. He’s only after her grandmother’s recipes.?

  The spell collapsed. Marcus hit the floor first, followed quickly by Venn. Reyn managed to stay upright through sheer stubborn refusal to fall, though her legs felt like they’d been replaced with overcooked noodles.

  ?Idiots,? Erma muttered, already moving to check on the fallen. ?Absolute idiots.?

  But even she couldn’t hide a small smile when Marcus groaned, ?We did it. We did it.?

  Venn pushed herself up on shaking arms. ?Meredith Baer. Brass Street. Mole on left cheek.?

  ?Throws things,? Reyn added with a nod.

  ?The vegetables,? Marcus mumbled from the floor. ?Whatever that means.?

  They sat there in the aftermath, three people who’d broken serious rules to help a dead man send a message to his wife. The kind of thing that would definitely be added to someone’s record. The kind of thing that could prevent advancement in the Temple hierarchy.

  The kind of thing that felt absolutely right.

  ?You know,? Erma said, looking at Venn with something approaching respect, ?that was either the bravest or stupidest thing I’ve seen an acolyte do.?

  ?Yes,? Venn said. She got up, and steadied herself on the table where Jarek lay. ?Both, I’d say.?

  ?The Trial committee should hear about this.? Erma’s tone was carefully neutral. ?A Mage doing the right thing, even when it’s wrong and a danger to herself… well. That shows a certain understanding of what a Mage truly is.?

  Venn’s eyes widened. ?You mean…??

  ?I mean you should present yourself for the Trial tomorrow night. If you’re recovered enough.? Erma turned to leave, then paused. ?And next time you want to break sacred laws and risk multiple lives? Just make sure it’s worth it.?

  As she left and the faint echoes of her footsteps dissipated, Reyn looked at Venn. ?You’re going to try again.?

  It wasn’t a question.

  ?Of course,? Venn said. ?But first…? She looked at Jarek’s peaceful form. ?First we tell Meredith about the vegetables.?