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Rook hesitated, her hand raised to knock. Should she? Would he just tell her to go away again? But … he was one of her companions, a valuable and vital member of the team that would take down the gods. She couldn't let him continue to hide from her.

She knocked.

"Come in."

His voice sounded cheerful, and when the door swung open, he was smiling at her. "Hi, Emmrich." Rook smiled back, getting halfway into the room before she noticed the corpse laid out on the slab in front of him. "Oh. You've … got a guest."

"Rook." His smile faded as he looked down at the body. "You remember the Hand of Glory?"

The disembodied hand that had skittered across the floor of the Necropolis before Emmrich caught it? That she did. Also, it was hovering in the air near his right shoulder.

She nodded at it politely, not sure if it was sentient or not. "Hard to forget. Did you figure out what those Venatori who broke into the Necropolis were doing with it?"

"The Hand is how they broke in—the simpler undead are blind to its bearer when its tapers are lit," he explained. "Sadly, only a death mage could have provided them with this forbidden necromancy."

"One of your people helping the Venatori?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I'm sorry."

Emmrich nodded. "As am I." He gestured to the corpse. "I've made some inquiries and discovered that this man is one of the death mage's victims. If he knows where the rogue necromancer is hiding, my corpse whispering will give us the answer."

Rook looked over the body. There was nothing special about it, just a man. Who undoubtedly had been part of other people's lives, people who would miss him. He deserved to be part of catching the person who had killed him. "Floor's all yours," she said to Emmrich, taking a step back so she wouldn't be in his way.

"I must warn you, it will be harder to coax answers from this poor man than from the dead I spoke to in the Necropolis." He began his movements, his hands flowing back and forth as green light and sparks surrounded him. "Let flame rekindle your sight. Let breath and light rise again." As the body twitched, Emmrich asked urgently, "Who did this to you?"

"Eyes hidden … dust and cold …" The words came slowly, as if the man's spirit was fighting the spell.

"Give us a name."

The corpse twitched, flinging one arm in Rook's direction. She took another step back, even as the body spoke. "They come for this one. The spirits shriek! They come!"

Well, that wasn't news. She'd fought enough spirits by now to get that message. Rook looked steadily at Emmrich, whose focus stayed on the corpse, holding it by the power of his will.

"A name!" he demanded.

"Blackthorne!" The word seemed to take all the corpse's energy. Its twitching stopped.

Emmrich sighed, as though he had expected the name. He waved his hands over the body again, saying softly, "Return to your rest."

Rook's eyes were still on him. Without thinking, she said, "Not a flinch. You really do know what you're doing."

He smiled a little. "Experience is the greatest teacher. And an open heart, to what the spirits need."

His gentleness, his intelligence, those sensitive beautiful hands … "I bet not every necromancer looks so dapper when they're working, though." She blushed as soon as she said it. He must think she was an impulsive child, unable to focus on the task at hand.

But Emmrich was blushing as well, as far as she could tell in the candlelight. "You choose the most extraordinary moments for compliments."

"Is that bad?"

"Quite the opposite." His dark eyes held hers, the room warming.

Before she could close the distance between them and … continue to be impulsive, Rook tried to pull herself together. "Back to the topic—do you know who Blackthorne is?"

"Not a who, but a where. Blackthorne Manor is an abandoned country house outside Nevarra City." He frowned. "Our victim mentioned spirits. If they've also fallen prey to forbidden magic, they'll need our help as well."

She had almost forgotten the floating hand, but she noticed its fingers twitching as Emmrich spoke.

"Let's depart for Blackthorne when you're ready," Emmrich said. "I'd like to speak to the necromancer behind all this."

"As would I. We'll go as soon as we can." Rook excused herself, trying to think about the work to be done and not about the look in his eyes … and failing completely.