Zoe's only wish is to be able to run barefoot through grass, but she knows it'll never happen. Ever since she was born, she's been unable to touch anything living without it instantly dying. It's a curse she would do anything to get rid of, but that...
I had no idea where Zoe had gone. When the second arrow had come flying, I had dived out of the way to the side and assumed that Zoe would do the same. But when I looked around, she was nowhere in sight. I scrambled to my feet, only to notice that Dad wasn't at the bottom of the stairs anymore. He had also disappeared.
I hurried down, taking two steps at a time, while also listening carefully for any sound, but I couldn't hear anything over the pounding of my heart.
I first looked through the living room and all spaces in that direction. Then I turned to head towards the kitchen. I stumbled as I saw the door frame to the kitchen. An arrow was stuck in it.
Praying I wasn't too late, I rushed forward and slammed the door open.
Zoe and Dad were both on the floor, and I almost fell over them. But that wasn't close to the biggest shock in that moment. No, it was the fact that they sat, faced each other, held hands and both of them had tears flowing from their eyes.
"Zoe?" I said weakly.
She wasn't the one that reacted first to my presence. Dad reached up to me and before I knew what was going on, I was also on the floor and Dad hugged me. I couldn't remember the last time he had hugged me.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he told me. "I've done you wrong. So many times. I've just been so worried that I would lose you too. Lose you again."
I turned my head so I could see Zoe. Through her tears, there was a soft smile as she stood up.
"I'll make some tea," she said.
Fifteen minutes later, we sat in the living room. Dad in one of the armchairs, and me and Zoe on the couch. We all had a cup of tea, but in the moment they felt like mandatory accessories rather than something any of us actually were interested in drinking.
Dad took a deep breath and then he told me about my mom for the first time. He told me how she had been kind but also crazy and that there hadn't been any idea that she had ever found impossible. How just her presence had made a room both brighter and warmer. He told me how happy they had been together and how excited they had both been when she had become pregnant. He told me we had been a happy family of three until I was about a month old. I had gotten sick, and they had taken me to the hospital. There they had been told that it was just a small fever, been given some medicine and then sent home. During the three hours that followed, I had kept on getting worse and just as they had been on their way back to the hospital, I had stopped breathing and died. Dad still had no idea what I had suffered from.
He began to tell the rest, but his voice died away and he seemed unable to continue.
"Your dad had read about necromancers," Zoe took up the story. "They have the ability to bring people back from death, and both your mom and dad were willing to do whatever it took to get you back." She paused, and I was surprised to see a flash of anger in her eyes. "A necromancer actually doesn't have the ability themselves to bring people back," she continued to explain. "But they have the ability to communicate with and order the Death Shadows and it's them that can bring people back. They, however, always ask for a price."
"Blood for blood, a life for a life," Dad mumbled through his tears.
"Yes," Zoe nodded. "They require blood and they require a life. The Necromancer didn't say what the price was but said she needed blood. Your dad didn't want your mom to have to cut herself, so he gave his blood and the Necromancer then decided that your mom's life was the one to be sacrificed for yours."
The silence that followed was heavy. I didn't have to look at Dad to feel the sorrow and guilt coming from him. The flashes of anger in Zoe surprised me, though, but sadness seemed to win in her. I, however, had no idea how to feel. It was all just such a shock beyond my wildest dream. I also didn't know what shocked me the most. That I was alive because of magic, the sudden change in Dad, or the truth about my mom. But since I didn't know how to feel, I decided to focus on facts.
"Why wouldn't the Necromancer explain properly beforehand?" I asked.
Zoe shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine. But it wouldn't surprise me if she saw it as revenge. She probably knew someone that had fallen victim to a witch hunter."
That got me even more lost for words and feelings. I tried to sort it out, but quickly gave up. Instead, I went on to focus on the one thing I knew was something positive and good. Dad did not want to kill Zoe anymore.
We remained quiet for a long time until Dad broke the silence.
"You call her a necromancer?" he said to Zoe in a tone that told that there was more.
"Yes," she nodded.
"As if she's not a witch?"
"That's right. Witches and necromancers are two different magical creatures. It is said that we come from the same Goddess though, but our magic is completely different. What a necromancer can do, a witch cannot, and vice versa. As said, the main ability of a necromancer is to be able to communicate with the Death Shadows, but that's not something any witch can do."
"I... I thought... If you..." Dad stammered but he never managed to finish the sentence. Zoe understood him, though.
"I'm still not completely sure how come my skin was the way it was. But it has nothing to do with necromancers or the Death Shadows."
"I wanted to find her," Dad mumbled.
"Killing her won't bring Annabel back," Zoe answered.
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