Standing in the graveyard, under the light of the full moon, Aris watched as Raizia worked.

They had found a spot in the graveyard where the grass was thin, revealing hard-packed dirt, baked from the summer rays. Raizia was meticulously dragging a long stick through the dirt, drawing patterns in the ground.

A containment circle, she had told Aris when she had started. To trap the dark spirit.

And what if it doesn't trap it? Aris had asked.

Raizia had stared at him for a long moment before finally saying, It has to.

A chilly wind whispered through the graveyard, making the hairs on Aris' arms stand on end. He looked at the nearest gravestone. Desran Yellan, it said. He had died over 10 years ago. And tonight, he'd rise again—or rather, some part of him would. His soul was long gone, Aris now knew.

Raizia finally dropped the stick and dusted off her hands, apparently pleased with her work. "Okay," she said, "let's run through the plan one more time before we get started."

Aris nodded. His throat felt tight. In the heat of battle, he was usually calm. But in the realm of the supernatural, he felt like a child afraid of the dark. "First we'll summon the dark spirit. Then we will trick it into the containment circle, to bind it there. And then we'll raise Mr. Yellan from the dead, opening a portal to another world, and cast the spirit back from where it came."

"Exactly," Raizia said. "Simple."

Aris knew Raizia was being upbeat for him; they both knew this wouldn't be simple.

"Should we get started?"

"One question," Aris asked, realizing something. "When we summon Mr. Yellen, he's... he breaks your rules of necromancy. Which is the point since we need to open that portal but... Doesn't that mean there will be consequences? Like... another finger?"

Raizia didn't say anything for a moment, but Aris had the distinct impression that she had already realized this and had accepted her fate. Finally she said, "It might not be a finger. Could be the tip of my nose, or an ear, or a toe."

"Raizia—"

"It's okay," she said firmly. "I know the risks. I've accepted them. Besides, we'll work quickly. The faster we send the spirit away, the faster we can stop the resurrection, and the more of me will remain."

She held out her hand, waiting for Aris to grab it so they could begin to cast their spell. Instead, he slid his hand behind her back, pulled her close, and tilted her head up so he could press his lips to hers. He lingered in their shared kiss before pulling away. And then—only then—did he take her hand.

"Okay," he said. "Let's do this."

Raizia squeezed his hand. "Focus," she whispered, and then she began to chant.

As she invoked the ancient tongue, Aris closed his eyes. He could feel her magick flood through him—intoxicating, heady, but now familiar, like a friend returning home. He twisted his right hand into the symbols Raizia had taught him, guiding her magick, calling on this darkness, drawing it to him.

The night had already been cool, but now the temperature dropped. The wind picked up, making a harsh sound as it beat at the trees. And then, suddenly, there was a stillness.

Aris opened his eyes, and what he saw nearly made his heart stop.

Standing about twenty feet away was a human-sized shadow. It was made of the deepest black that swallowed all light and sound. Even the moonlight twisted as it drew into the shadow, disappearing into its dark depths, vanishing helplessly into this black hole.

But what struck Aris most was that the shadow seemed to shimmer, coming in and out of focus like a mirage. And in those fleeting transitions, Aris saw more than a shadow: he saw his mother.

Beautiful, black hair. Warm smile. Rough hands. And she seemed to be calling to him, wanting to hold Aris, wanting to tell him that she had forgiven him.

Aris took half a step forward, but Raizia yanked on his hand. "Where are you going?" she hissed.

"My mom..." Aris said, but then the vision shifted, and suddenly it was just the black shadow again.

And then, without a word, without warning, the shadow rushed towards them.

It caught Aris off-guard, and the distinct urge to flee rushed through his system. As he darted to the right, Raizia ran to the left, losing grip of each other—and, in essence, their power.

"Shit!" Aris cursed, realizing how stupid he had been to let go of her hand. He turned to look at the shadow, praying it didn't realize that they both were now powerless. But it didn't matter—the shadow seemed to have chosen its victim, and it had its eyes set on Raizia. The air rumbled with static electivity, heavy like the unnerving feeling before a thunderstorm, and then it rushed forward towards the necromancer.

Aris knelt down, plucked a rock off the ground, and threw it at the shadow; the rock disappeared into it depths, leaving not even a scratch. But the shadow didn't seem to like that. It turned, appraising Aris with disapproval, and started towards him.

Aris had always thought he was fast—the army drills had forced him to be quick and deadly—but this shadow didn't seem to abide by the laws of physics. It glided at an incredible speed, coming towards Aris.

Aris ran as fast as his legs could carry him. And yet the shadow gained on him. Closer, and closer. In the darkness, Aris missed a gnarled tree root, and he stumbled, tripping to the ground. As he stared up at the shadow, and the whole world was blocked out by its blackness, he knew that his life was coming to an end...

And then suddenly, the shadow froze.

Aris' breath caught in his throat. He couldn't believe what was happening. But then he looked down and saw the containment circle was in front of him, glimmering with yellow light—almost pleased that it had captured its prey. For that's what had happened: the shadow was now trapped in the summoning circle. It tried to move forward, dark tendrils reaching for Aris, but it couldn't break the invisible barrier.

Raizia walked over to Aris, helped him to his feet, and then smacked his arm. "Left!" she said. "We were supposed to run left!"

"Sorry," Aris said, "I got distracted." Even now, the shadow was toying with him, showing him glimpses of his mother, as if begging Aris to set it free.

Aris couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the shadow truly was his mother—after all, it had been summoned during her resurrection. Or was it simply a rogue spirit trying to trick him, showing him images of his mother so he would wander into the circle and accidentally set it free?

Aris looked away, rubbing at his face. He was already exhausted and there was still more to do. "Okay," he mumbled. "Let's resurrect Mr. Yellen and be done."

Raizia dug into her cloak and passed Aris her knife. "Carefully," she said. "You don't need a ton of blood."

Aris nodded, and then carefully dragged the blade over his right palm. The blood pooled almost immediately. And then, just like Raizia had the first night he had met her, he left the blood fall over the grave, where it splashed in the dirt.

Raizia grasped his free hand and began chanting. "Ella aer. Ki ten. Mass ah. Oh yoo. Ella aer. Ki ten. Mass ah. Oh yoo."

The ground began to rumble. Chunks of dirt flew upwards. And then, crawling out of the ground, was a corpse. It was only a skeleton at this point, with just a few threads of cloth hanging from its body, but it didn't make Aris' stomach churn any less.

The darkness seemed to sense what was going on, because suddenly it moved, frantically pressing against the confines of its summoning circle, trying to escape. But it couldn't.

As Raizia continued her chant, the skeleton—which seemed barely able to move given the decay in its tendons—slowly marched towards the summoning circle.

But suddenly Aris let out a gasp. Raizia nearly stumbled in her chant, looking at him with concerned eyes. Aris meanwhile was biting his tongue, holding back a cry. His finger felt like it was on fire. He looked down, and what he saw didn't surprise him: the tip of his pinkie finger was turning black.

His shout seemed to confuse the skeleton, and for a second it halted in its march. But Aris did his best to ignore the white-hot pain in his hand, and instead re-focused on the skeleton, urging it forward, moving it with his will towards the summoning circle—and it obeyed, finally stepping over the edge and joining the darkness.

As it did, there was a loud shriek. It was unclear whether it came from the corpse or the shadow. But suddenly, the shadow was no more, having vanished. And with it being gone, Raizia's words shifted, changing her spell from one of necromancy to one of banishment.

Aris did his best to channel her magick as she shouted ancient phrases, and after what seemed like an eternity, the skeleton finally collapsed to the ground, crumbling to dust, and everything was quiet.

Raizia immediately let go of Aris' left hand and started cursing. "Shit! I didn't think it would happen to you. I'm so sorry." She dug through her cloak, pulling out the salve she had gotten from Zaidi.

"It's okay," Aris said, although his finger still stung madly. He had the distinct urge to put it in his mouth, suck on it to make it feel better, although now the tip had disintegrated into ash and he didn't think that would be too hygienic. The pain had started to recede, and when he looked down, he was only missing the tip—not too bad for a night's work.

"Look," he said, holding up his pinkie. "We match now."

Raizia sent him a scowl, but then smiled, lathering the skin with ointment. "Hopefully this eases the ache."

Aris leaned in and kissed her. "I know what will help ease the ache."

Raizia laughed, and Aris could see her cheeks flushing in the moonlight. "Come on, let's get out of here..." Suddenly she trailed off. "Do you hear that?"

Aris paused, listening. It took him a moment, but then he heard it: chanting. Someone else was out in the graveyard practicing magick.

"What are they chanting?" he asked, stifling a yawn. He suddenly felt extremely tired. Casting had taken more out of him than he had expected.

Raizia was quiet as she listened. Aris watched as she too did her best to hold back a yawn. "It sounds like..." She suddenly paused, eyes widening. "Sleeping spell."

She scrambled to her feet, grabbing on to Aris, encouraging him to stand, to run, but suddenly Aris felt like he was frozen. He couldn't move. Couldn't do anything. And the song of sleep was so intoxicating that the next thing he knew he was surrounded by darkness having fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

- - -

Happy birthday to me! [Posting this on my bday (4/27)!]

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! We're getting close to the end and I need to frantically write to get this out in time for the ONC deadline. So please excuse a few typos--actually, if you catch any, let me know so I can tweak before the final submission! I'm so excited to finish writing the last 1-2 chapters. And I hope you're excited to see how this all plays out!

- Bdicocco