Mikael's Little Necromancer.

7. Sleeping Beauty.

New Orleans, The Bell Tower, Night Present:

The journey back to the bell tower was a silent affair. Nora turned out to be rather successful at cloaking herself and others while on the move. They couldn't be seen even in a city with a large-ish supernatural community walking around with a woman in a glass coffin is quite bizarre.

"Salt."

"Pardon," Mikael replied.

"I require more salt for my craft," Nora said. The witch's eyes were focused solely on her sleeping granddaughter. "Your boy has little resources for witches,"

"My boy has little need for witchcraft."

"Current circumstances would disagree," Nora replied. "I can sense Dahlia's magic which is to be expected. Your eldest is bound to Freya in more ways than one."

"How so?" Mikael questioned.

"You'll be able to ask your daughter that soon," Nora said. "Now, please if you would be so kind as to fetch me some salt."

The Original father said nothing, he just left and returned with a large bottle of salt. The witch accepted the salt and started to pour salt down creating a circle around Freya. She then placed two hands on each side of Freya's and began chanting. Before finishing the third verse of the spell, Nora is thrown back against a wall in Henrik's body.

"Henrik!" Mikael yelled. He ran over to Henrik who was lying against a wall.

"Papa," Henrik muttered before passing out.

Some time passed before Henrik came around, and the first thing he noticed was that his head was resting on Mikael's right shoulder.

"Little one," Mikael said. Henrik looked down before looking back at his father.

"Why am I on the floor and why is there a coffin here?" The necromancer asked.

"You were possessed for some time by a witch, who had knowledge over Freya and brought her here."

"She's in a coffin." Henrik frowned.

"And sleeping," Mikael helped Henrik to his feet.

"She's just radiating power. I thought Kol was powerful but this is something else."

"Nora..."

"Who's Nora?" Henrik cut in.

"Esther's mother," Mikael replied. "She attempted to wake her, I suspect Dahlia's magic intervened." Henrik walked over to the coffin and looked down at his sister. There was something odd about Freya. The Necromancer waved a handover and across the witch.

"Interesting," Henrik muttered to himself.

"Pardon,"

"She's died once before."

"DIED!" Mikael gasped.

"Dahlia may have little competition amongst witches, I doubt she has any experience with Necromancers."

"What are you planning?" Mikael asked.

"I'm going to trade places with Freya," Henrik replied.

"How?"

"I may not have inherited the magic of Mama's bloodline. But that didn't stop me from spying on Kol all those years ago when he experimented with witchcraft." Henrik explained.

"For all but three seconds you spied on him," Mikael said.

"Fine; when Mama used to bind me to a corner in our hut after I 'misbehaved' Kol cast a spell to let someone trade places with me for a little while," Henrik recalled a small smile grew on his face one of the many times, Kol was his favourite brother.

"Until she caught you," Mikael said.

"Finn such a tattle tail."

It didn't take long for Henrik to set up the ritual. The necromancer used a knife to slit Freya's left palm and let a little blood fall into a small silver chalice followed by his own blood. He drew the same rune on both of their foreheads with their mixed blood and chanted in Old Norse for a few seconds, before falling back into his father's arms asleep.

The Viking Witch's eyes opened after almost a century of sleep. This was an event the thousand-year-old witch never saw coming.