Free Ward Against Darkness (Chronicles of a Reluctant Necromancer) by Melanie Card Page A

answer, at least. I’m sorry you have no choice,” Allette said.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Macerio is aware of you now. He knows you’re a powerful Innecroestri and won’t let you leave until you swear fealty to him.”
    Ward snorted. “Me? Powerful?”
    “Your vesperitti is proof of your strength, even if the spell is unusual and your aura is faint. If you’re not powerful enough on your own to have created her, then you’re resourceful. Macerio likes that.”
    “And by resourceful you mean…?”
    “Blood sacrifice.”
    Oh, Goddess. She thought he’d used a human sacrifice, bleeding a person to death to power his spell. That ritual destroyed the soul and left nothing to cross the veil. “It wasn’t like that. I’m just lucky, that’s all.”
    “You’re not lucky. And you’re not weak. No matter what your aura suggests. I know you didn’t use blood sacrifices. You had a moment of clarity where you somehow became unblocked.”
    “Excuse me?” He’d never heard that explanation before. How could an ability be blocked? A necromancer could either channel the magic in blood or he couldn’t—and an Innecroestri embraced that blood magic fully, not caring about maintaining the balance between life and death.
    “You’re blocked. I’ve only seen it twice before. In another necromancer and in a Brother of Light. The Brother managed to free his gift. There isn’t much difference between a Brother and a necromancer. I don’t see why what he did won’t work for you.”
    “I’m pretty sure there’s a big difference between the two.” A Brother’s innate ability to channel magic was focused through strict regulation of devout worship and celibacy. They weren’t sullied by using blood magic and only drew on the power within them granted by the Goddess.
    Red seeped up Allette’s neck and across her cheeks and forehead. “The block is similar. Not the magic used. There was a small temple in the village where…” She swallowed and the blush seeped away. “Where Macerio found me. A Brother there had lost his divine connection, but I could see the power in his aura. Faint and only visible from the corner of my eye.”
    “And you think I’m blocked?”
    She bit her lip and nodded.
    “But if you saw the block in him and presumably in me, why hasn’t Macerio seen it?”
    “Macerio never saw the Brother when he was blocked. I think if you haven’t seen it before you don’t know what you’re really looking at. Macerio couldn’t see it in the other necromancer either. No one could. But I’m guessing your symptoms are the same.”
    “What symptoms?”
    “You can’t sense magical energy, can you? You’re blind to it, but that doesn’t mean you’re not gifted. It means something is in your way. If you didn’t have the gift, there wouldn’t be anything in your aura.”
    There was truth in what Allette said. The question was, how much? The Necromantic Council of Elders had tested him and found him weak, but still a necromancer. No one but Grandfather—and now Celia and Allette—knew about his mystical blindness.
    “Blind men can still move about in the world. It doesn’t mean they’re weak, just different. If we unblock you, you can reach your full potential and free me.”
    “Free you from what?” Here was the catch, the reason for her lie, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
    “Macerio has cast an exilo de’U on me.”
    Ward sat forward. “Excuse me?” But he didn’t doubt what he’d heard. An exilo de’U was a terrible spell, binding the soul of the victim to the Innecroestri who’d cast it. It was like a vesperitti’s enthrallment, except the victim was completely aware that her body no longer belonged to her and lasted a lifetime.
    “I’m trapped.”
    “I can’t break an exilo de’U.” Only a really powerful necromancer—or an equally powerful Brother of Light—could break that spell. “I’m not strong enough.”
    “Ward, please.” She reached