The very thing you're best at

Is the thing that hurts the most

-- Florence + The Machine, King

Abi's dreams were as muddled and confused as her thoughts when she was awake. One minute she was playing with Arafaren, the next she was back in Ilaran's memories. Then both got tangled up and she found herself in Ilaran's place, staring up at the sky from the bottom of a well while Arafaren lay in Nuvildu's place. Then the scene changed again and she saw Ilaran kill his father, but instead of Ilaran it was Lian wielding the sword.

Then abruptly all of the confused memories disappeared and she blinked owlishly around at a large and rather cluttered room. It was a room she'd seen before but couldn't quite place. Whoever it belonged to had stacked piles of books everywhere. On the tables, on the chairs, even on the floor. How anyone could navigate the room without tripping was a mystery.

Abi looked around without any real surprise. Her dreams were so strange that this seemed perfectly normal. Nor was she particularly surprised when the door opened and Ilaran walked in. Without looking in her direction he picked up some of the books, checked their titles, and left the room with them. Abi idly picked up the nearest book and flipped through it. The cover felt exactly like a real book. So did the pages. She was mildly surprised to find it was perfectly intelligible and utterly boring. It was a record of harvests in a town she'd never heard of.

Why am I dreaming about this? she wondered.

She sat down in the nearest chair, half-expecting it to turn into a tiger or a cloud or something equally dream-like. But it felt exactly like an ordinary chair.

Ilaran came back into the room. He stopped abruptly and stared in Abi's direction. It took her a minute to realise this was because he was actually looking at her -- and from his expression, first startled and then annoyed, he could clearly see her. An unpleasant suspicion began to dawn on her.

"Is this real?" Abi asked.

Ilaran grimaced. "Unfortunately yes."

She blinked. "You don't seem surprised."

"You dragged me into your mind a few days ago. I'm not surprised the reverse has happened."

This was news to Abi. "I did what? When? How?"

"You were talking to your brother about your other brother," Ilaran said shortly. It took Abi a minute to realise what he was talking about. How ironic that he'd witnessed a conversation about Imrahil. "As for how, I think it's obvious enough. Both of us have found out much more about each other than we ever wanted to know."

Abi winced as she remembered her trip through Ilaran's memories. "How do we undo it?"

Ilaran shrugged helplessly. For the first time it dawned on Abi that he looked exhausted. Not as bad as when he'd been possessed, but not a whole lot better either. "I tried strengthening my mental shields. Apparently it worked, since I haven't been dragged into your mind again. I suggest you do the same." He paused and stared at her. "...Is something wrong? You look terrible."

Even though she'd thought much the same thing about him, Abi felt offended at this remark. "I just learnt that my other brother is still alive and he doesn't have a heartbeat."

The baffled look on Ilaran's face almost made up for the confusion of the last few hours.

Over the years Mirio had perfected the art of speaking calmly while internally screaming. It was a necessary survival skill when dealing with the insanity of politicians and relatives, to say nothing of Abi's crazier schemes. Even so, it took him several minutes to collect himself enough to use it. For a while he felt like screaming aloud as well as internally. At last he conquered that urge and forced himself to speak calmly.

"Say that again."

Lian smiled. It was his calmest, most gentle smile. Mirio had heard enough muttered grumblings from the palace servants to know that was the expression they hated most. Oddly it was the most reassuring expression Lian could have worn under the circumstances. Mirio had worn a similar smile often enough to recognise it as a desperate attempt to stay calm in an unpleasant situation when what he really wanted was to run away and let someone else deal with it. In light of what Lian had just said, it was downright bizarre to realise he was as uncomfortable as Mirio.

"I said I meddled in necromancy and accidentally killed myself. Then I -- also accidentally -- brought myself back to life. Actually, you might say I annoyed Death into bringing me back. She doesn't have a high opinion of necromancers. In fact I suspect she went out of her way to ruin everything for me."

Lian made a good attempt at sounding casual. But his voice trembled just slightly on the first sentence, and he forced himself to use an exaggeratedly calm tone towards the end. The result was stilted and betrayed his unease. With a jolt Mirio realised that the last time he had seen Lian so shaken was when Zi Yao had been cursed.

"Explain," he ordered. He wanted to say something more, to ask if this was some monstrous joke, but he didn't trust his voice to work and he didn't want to do something embarrassing like scream.

Lian opened his mouth. Then he closed it again and hesitated before he finally spoke. "Would you mind if we waited to have this conversation when Abihira is present? I would rather not have to explain it twice."

Part of Mirio recoiled from the idea of Lian being anywhere near Abi. The rest of his brain shouted that part down. He'd seen how Lian behaved around Zi Yao and the other people in the palace. Whatever he'd done in the past, he wasn't likely to be an immediate threat. Abi was in no danger. A woman who raised the dead could take care of herself. In fact she might even be able to control Lian; she was a necromancer, and he was apparently undead.

"All right," he said. "But first tell me, what exactly are you?"

Lian thought for a moment. He smiled again. This time it was the smile that suggested he was laughing at a private joke. "I don't think there's any word that describes what I am. I need to drink blood but I can't survive on it alone. I can't be killed and any injuries I receive will heal within minutes, but occasionally my body starts to fall apart and I have to heal it with necromancy. I suppose you could say I'm somewhere between a vampire, a zombie and a lich."

Abi recounted the events of the last few hours. Ilaran listened. His face went through a series of complicated expressions beginning and ending at incredulity.

"...So that's it," she finished. "I know it sounds unbelievable -- hell, I'm struggling to believe it -- but it's all true."

"Don't worry, I believe you," Ilaran said grimly. "If you were lying you'd have chosen a more plausible story. Did... Did Imrahil tell you what happened? When he was banished?"

Abi shook her head. "Do you know?"

Ilaran's grim look intensified. "Not for sure. I wasn't there and I never met him. Officially he drowned, but I heard some very wild rumours. Rumours that he had died then come back as a cannibalistic monster."

Abi looked at Ilaran. Ilaran looked at Abi. They didn't need telepathy to know they were both thinking along the same lines.

"Do you think he was possessed?" Like you, she almost said, but stopped herself just in time. Some things were best never spoken of. Or thought of, for that matter.

"I don't know. A month ago I'd have dismissed all those rumours as nonsense."

"He's a doctor in Gengxin," Abi said. "I think he's lived there for years. If he was going to turn into a monster he'd have done it by now."

Ilaran nodded slowly. He didn't look convinced. To be honest, neither was Abi. She made an attempt to change the subject to something less serious.

"Has Irímé arrived yet?"

"Not yet. Tomorrow, I think."

"Tell him I said hello." She paused, realising this would mean revealing the telepathy situation. "Er, on second thoughts, never mind. I suppose I'd better be going. Goodbye, and -- no offense -- I hope I don't end up in your mind again."

Kitri's townhouse was in the market town of Thialdilorn. The nearest town was Luinnakied, nine miles away as the phoenix flies. However, the only main road connecting the two wound over and around so many hills that it added another mile to the journey and made it much longer than it should be. Dozens of farms dotted the countryside along the way.

As soon as she was outside the town wall Kitri stopped to consider her next move. The monsters were -- hopefully, assuming the gatekeeper had done her job -- contained within the town. They were dormant, but it wasn't safe to assume they'd remain that way for long. So she had better raise the alarm as quickly as possible. Walking all the way to Luinnakied would take too long. Better to go to one of the farms, borrow a horse, and tell them to pass the message along to their neighbours while she rode to the town.

Destroying the skeleton's heads killed them, she repeated over and over in her mind as she hurried to the nearest farm. Destroying the monsters' heads is the best chance we have.

Part of her recoiled from the idea -- the monsters had been ordinary immortals only hours ago; it would be preferable to save them rather than kill them -- but she remembered the injuries they'd sustained. Throats torn out, chests ripped open, limbs snapped off. Even if their transformation could be reversed, most of those injuries would be fatal. And the ones that weren't would be infected by now. No, the safest and most practical thing to do was to kill them.

When she reached the farm she found it empty. A note was pinned to the door. Gone to Thialdilorn Market, back at five. With a shudder Kitri realised that the farm's owners had likely been killed by the monsters.

She walked around the farmyard looking for anyone who might have been left behind. Nothing. Apparently the entire family had gone. All that was left were cows grazing in the field. The stable was empty. No hope of any help here.

Now she had to backtrack to the main road and run along it until she found the next lane leading to a farm. It was also deserted, with a similar note explaining where the owners were and why they would never come back. With a sinking feeling Kitri began to realise that all of the farmers in the vicinity had brought their wares to market, and most of them had brought their entire families too. There was no one around who could help her. Rather than waste any more time searching, she had better walk all the way to Luinnakied as quickly as possible.

The blazing heat of earlier was beginning to fade as the afternoon went on. The sun sank further and further towards the horizon. A chill filled the air that had nothing to do with the time. One by one the birds stopped singing while there was still plenty of light. An unnatural silence fell. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath.

Kitri sped up. The idea of being out here when night fell was more than her nerves could stand. But by the time the sun was half-way below the horizon she was still only three miles away from Thialdilorn.

The Fabrern River ran alongside the road here. It was too wide to ford and the bridge here was too narrow for carts laden with goods, so moored along both sides of its banks were flatboats meant to ferry farmers across. They were pulled across the river by ropes that could be operated by the person on the boat, eliminating the need for a ferryman. If necessary the boats could be anchored in place in the middle of the river, which was usually done if there was a wildfire and the boats were in danger of being burnt.

Although the prospect of spending the night on a boat in the middle of the river was thoroughly unappealing, it was better than walking on and on and possibly being overtaken by monsters.

Luinnakied will close its gates at sunset, Kitri told herself. Nothing will be able to get in.

She left the main road and ran down the side-road to the riverside. The light was fading, but it was still bright enough to see the nearest boat pulled up against the dock. It was meant to accommodate a horse and cart. There was no danger of rolling over the side in the night.

Kitri climbed onto it and untied it from the dock. She pulled the rope that controlled it. The boat slid easily away from the bank. When it was roughly in the middle of the river she stopped. There were two anchors, one at the back and one at the front. Kitri lowered both. The boat stayed in place, held by the rope and the anchors.

The only way to reach her now was by swimming or getting another boat. Judging by the injuries sustained by the monsters she doubted they would be able to swim, and none of them had seemed intelligent enough to use a boat. This was the safest place she could be.

Utter silence reigned as the sun fell below the horizon. The river made no noise as it flowed. There wasn't even the sound of an owl. Kitri shuddered. She'd learnt years ago that nature was never silent unless something was wrong.

It would be a long night.