The Necromancer Trilogy - Black Magic

Chapter Eleven - Six Sophies

Sophie twisted the paintbrush through her fingers, her eyes staring unseeingly at the wall. She was part-way through painting some of the latest scenes in her life. She wasn’t skilled at it, though she grew better every day, but she was even worse at writing and wanted some way to permanently record what she saw.

“One day,” she muttered, “I’ll go through these and make them perfect, like photographs.”

Her mind was elsewhere, occupied with what Blue had said to her about David. Had she been watching him? She supposed it was possible, even likely, but watching him in such a way that Blue, the most unobservant human male currently alive, noticed and felt the need to comment?

 She didn’t love him. At the moment, at least, she was perfectly sure of that. What was there to love? David simply wasn’t loveable. But he was fascinating.

“Power plus danger plus mystery plus tragedy equals attraction,” Sophie sighed, remembering with a faint prick of sadness her mother’s face when she said that during a rare mother-daughter talk. “A winning formula.”

She brought the brush down in a neat stroke across the paper, wondering how it was possible to paint a nose that looked like a nose. She had mastered mouth and eyes quickly, but the elusive nose remained a distant dream.

“Of course,” she muttered, “you’ll be seeing your parents again soon. And the unborn sibling, naturally. I hope it’s a brother. No, I hope it’s a sister. Anyway, it won’t be long till I find out. I’ll be back home soon.”

But “soon” was all too dependent on what happened next. Celia had walked away from the Society and Kurt, though skilled with memory magic, would find it difficult to repair the breach without the cooperation of whoever caused it in the first place.

“Besides,” Sophie gritted her teeth. “If you die, or if you lose, there will be no going home at all.”

“Where are we going?” David asked, slinging a rucksack over his shoulder. “And is it going to be more interesting than last time?”

“We,” Sophie told him, “are going to be disguised. We are going to check into a hotel and act like ordinary people, living an ordinary life. Ok?”

David nodded. “Disguised how?”

“Oh, no way special,” Sophie shrugged. “New haircut, we’re going to darken your skin a little, fake names…”

“New haircut,” David rolled his eyes. “You really think I will let you cut my hair off? I’d rather die!”

“Then your luck is in,” Sophie snapped. “Haircut or death, that’s your choice.”

David sighed, pushing his over-long fringe out of his eyes.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he said, sadly. “What are you going to do to yours?”

Sophie fingered her shoulder-length hair.

“I don’t know,” she mused. “I was considering one of those haircuts that look like you hacked off your hair with kitchen scissors, except they don’t because they look stylish at the same time. Do you think that would suit me?”

“Forgive me,” David gave a mock bow, “but I don’t do fashion tips.”

Sophie huffed. “Oh, so helpful!”

“Anyway,” David hastily changed the subject, “what is everybody else doing?”

“Weren’t you listening in the conference?” Sophie admonished. “It was about you.”

“I must have dozed off,” David yawned. “It wasn’t exactly jaw-droppingly exciting.”

“Well, Blue and Adele are going to pretend to be us,” Sophie explained.