I barely have time to react before Lukas yanks me forward again, both of us taking off at a sprint. I’m basically being dragged along due to Lukas’s longer stride. This kid is fast, faster than I expected for someone who looks like a strong breeze could knock him over. He dodges between pedestrians, weaving through the crowd in a way that we can’t quite manage. I pant heavily, my lungs burning and my legs aching as I keep running, trying not to lose sight of him. “Lukas, we’re going to scare him-” I start.
“He’s already scared!” Lukas snaps back, his voice tight with frustration.
“If we let him go now, we might never find him again!” He insists. He has a point. But if we don’t catch this kid the right way, we might lose him in another way, by pushing him so far into a corner that he does something dangerous. He looks almost desperate enough to do something stupid. Up ahead, Roxy has already surged forward, her instincts kicking in. She veers off slightly, racing ahead to try and cut him off at the next street corner. I don’t even have to tell her, she’s smart enough to know what we’re doing. As Lukas’s familiar she really is very in tune with what he wants. Just as the kid makes a sharp turn, she beats him to it. Roxy plants herself right in his path, lowering her front legs slightly, ears up, alert. She doesn’t growl, she doesn’t need to. Her size is enough to make anyone think twice about running straight into her. The kid skids to a stop so suddenly that his shoes scrape against the pavement, his chest rising and falling in sharp, frantic breaths. His head whips around, wild eyes scanning for another escape route, but Lukas and I are already closing in. He’s trapped. I can see the panic in his eyes, his fingers twitching at his sides, his shoulders bunching like a cornered animal. He squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that for a second, I think he’s about to collapse or surrender. Maybe he’s realising that he has nowhere left to run. Then something flies over my head. I flinch instinctively, throwing my arms up, my heart leaping into my throat. Lukas yelps beside me, jerking backward as a blur of feathers and bones dives straight for him. My first thought is, Does he have a trained bird? But then I see it. The thing isn’t alive. Its wings are thin, its body skeletal, more bones than flesh. If it weren’t moving, I would have assumed it was long dead. Because it is. Necromancy. A chill rolls down my spine. He raised this thing. Even though I knew we were dealing with a necromancer, seeing it, watching the unnatural way the creature jerks midair, it sends a new wave of unease through me. Lukas swats at the thing in a panicked motion, his hand connecting hard enough to send it spinning off course. It crumples midair, collapsing onto the ground in a broken, lifeless heap. The moment it falls, the kid gasps, his entire body stiffening like he felt it die… Again. Then, just as quickly as he raised it, the magic disappears. The bird doesn’t stir. He let the magic go. The boy stands there, chest heaving, hands shaking. His face is pale, too pale. For a moment, I think he’s going to be sick. His hands clench into fists at his sides. He looks horrified. Not at us, at himself. His lips part, but when he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.
“You don’t know that.” He mutters under his breath, his eyes flickering off to the side, at nothing. There is nothing there, just a wall. Still, it’s pretty clear that he wasn’t talking to us. I swallow, forcing my voice into something calm and measured.
“Hey, we just want to talk.” I take a careful step forward, my hands raised slightly, palms out. His gaze snaps to me. He’s wary, his weight shifting, ready to bolt in an instant. I try to make myself small. Less of a threat. I figure Lukas, with his sharp suit and intense glare, is probably far more intimidating than I am. Maybe if I talk, if I lead, we won’t scare him into running, or worse, attacking. The boy’s eyes flick between us, calculating. He’s assessing the situation, his mind working too fast. If he makes the wrong choice, if he chooses to fight instead of run, we’re in serious trouble. I have no idea how much power he actually has. How much damage he could do. I’m still running on fumes, but I know one thing for sure. Right now, he is terrified… And people who are scared, people who feel cornered, they’re the most dangerous of all. A horrible flash of memory hits me. Cole’s voice in my head. He said ‘Remember that there are terrible people… And there are good people who make terrible mistakes.’ This has to be what he meant. This kid, this boy who can raise the dead, he doesn’t look like a villain. He doesn’t look like someone who gets off on twisting corpses into weapons or using them as puppets. He looks like a child. A child who is alone and in way over his head. And that’s what makes this so much worse. Because if he’s desperate enough, if he feels trapped, he will do something reckless. And I don’t think we would be able to fight back. Lukas shifts beside me, barely moving, but I feel his tension, his gaze is flickering to the boy’s hands like he’s already preparing for the worst. I don’t blame him. Because if this kid is powerful enough to raise the dead, really raise them, more than just a single bird, then backing him into a corner could be the worst mistake we ever made.
The boy swallows hard, his blue eyes darting between the two of us.
“What do you want?” He demands. I can tell he’s trying to sound brave, but his voice wavers and breaks a little. I take a slow breath.
“Answers.” The kid hesitates. He’s weighing his options, trying to decide if we’re worth the risk, and for a moment, I almost think he might run again. Then Lukas says one word.
“Solem.” He says, his tone flat. The kid flinches. His reaction is immediate, sharp. His fingers twitch again, but this time, they clench into fists. And just like that, I’m sure. He’s not just involved with Solem, he’s scared of him. I exchange a quick glance with Lukas. That reaction wasn’t nothing.
“You know him.” Lukas presses, his voice shifting into something softer, more careful.
“You’re afraid of him.” He prompts, pausing to give the boy a chance to answer. The kid’s jaw tightens.
“You don’t know anything.” He mutters, but his voice is shaking.
“Then tell us, tell us what we don’t know.” I say, stepping just a little closer. His breath shudders. I can see the war happening behind his eyes, the instinct to run, to shut down, to protect himself. But Roxy is still there, Lukas and I are blocking his exits, and more than anything else, he looks exhausted. Completely tired in a way that has nothing to do with running and everything to do with life itself. I’m fairly sure he WANTS to tell us.
“We don’t want to hurt you. We want to help.” I say softly. I might not have spoken to Lukas about it yet, but I’m pretty sure he will agree. This kid isn’t some villain to be defeated. He’s a victim who needs help. Finally, after what feels like forever, the kid’s shoulders slump and I know he’s ready to talk. The kid’s lips part, but he hesitates, glancing between me and Lukas.
“My name is Wren.” He finally answers in a quiet and reluctant voice. I exchange a brief glance with Lukas before slipping my hand into his, squeezing lightly.
*Don’t read his mind yet. Give him a chance to tell us everything himself. I think he needs this.* I think at him. Lukas huffs softly but gives my hand a small squeeze in return. I think that means. ‘Fine, but I reserve the right to do it later.’ At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe. I turn back to Wren and offer a small smile.
“Alright, Wren. My name is Clare, this is Lukas, and that’s Roxy.” I say warmly. Wren’s eyes flick toward Roxy, his hands twitching slightly at his sides, but he doesn’t seem afraid of her, just wary. I step closer to Roxy and scratch her ears, making sure she looks less intimidating. She wags her tail enthusiastically, instantly lowering her threat level from menacing guard dog to excited puppy. I take a breath.
“Can I buy you lunch?”