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sensitivity to killing and death. Her Lightbringer sister, on the other hand… Her disgust differed.

It’s the next part that always troubles her.

Ruein unslung her glaive and rested it against the trunk. She draped her cloak over a chair. “You lot can wait here or below. Either way, I’m getting answers.”

A shrill whistle spurt from Twigs, directed beneath. “We’ll take here,” he answered. In a bouncing tumble, he landed with a thump to the flet.

At the same moment, the tree swayed.

Rustling branches coincided with exerted grunts that arose under them. A pair of half-orc hands gripped the outer deck. In a final huff, Ceer somersaulted over the railing to spot his landing next to Twigs. A flutter of autumn leaves drifted at his impact.

Dragging a hand over her face, Liv shook her head.

Ruein withdrew her medallion and refocused on the unboxed head. “Suit yourself. Just don’t get in my way.” This would require subtlety, precision, and most of all, time. She lapsed into her recesses. There, stored within her gently reposed tissue, were the draconic phrases required. Drawing them out, she worked through the air before her.

Her gauntleted fingers moved across the copper of the medallion. Each pass drew forth a thread of ebony she wove into a rune. Arranging, Ruein shifted and enclosed each, placing them like tumblers in a lock.

The ambient noise of Liv, Twigs, and Ceer remained distant. Little doubt, they sparred over nuances and intents. It was simple enough for Ruein to shut out. Her spell tapped at the eternal, but only just so much. There was a balance to perform. Too little would be an empty show. Too much would raise the dead, and that would mean putting it back down. At the same time, this was not a whole body. How should she portion such a dark flow?

She’d cask her pour, giving just enough.

The world faded to the background as she ran over the arcane circumference. Each draconic word charged the rune tumblers until the way would open. For that, she prepared a plug. Ruein peered through as she twisted her mental spigot toward the severed head. The runic circle opened. The timeless dark streamed.

Its lids trembled. Dried orbs wobbled in their sockets.

In a snap, the disparate eyes relocked. The head twitched as the mouth worked its jaw. It choked a gurgled rasp, “…stake.” Milk-white pupils tightened as it closed its eyes. “Gi vith. I…mmm…so…dead.”

The rabble behind Ruein silenced.

She stoppered her flow. “That you are. Now tell me, who are you?”

The head’s eyes reopened. “I’m to be a heeal’er. Tenderrr Peridoc will show urhm.” The rasp off-keyed into a pitched warble. Eyes wandered past Ruein to the forest. “Say, this are now where nearrr arr Apex. Haven’t seen tree…like thees…since boy.”

Twigs reared. “Damned m’dirt. Why’s he sound so bad?”

Ruein regarded the unnerved trio. “It’s a severed head. A whole body would provide a clearer vessel. I am making do.” She crouched low to the table, level with the head. “You’re dead, Tender. Tell me how. How did you die?”

“Why, sword cut my ’ed off. Vith uns’aa.”

That last bit, that was not common speak. Ruein pressed. “Who?”

An eye widened back at her. “How the vith should err no? Killer all…black, even hed. Only bit not, its burn…ing eyes.”

It was already apparent, while this spell did take, it wasn’t going to last. Too much damage to the corpse. Ruein would only get so many questions. She needed his focus. She needed details. “Was it a man or a woman? You speak undercommon. Were they drow?”

The eyes rolled. “All Haraden speaks undercom…mon. Should I know if was drow? Told you. Robed black. Fates damned, I saw all…from floor.”

“Well, that’s not much help,” groused Liv.

Ruein added, “Not much, at least beyond being killed with a sword.”

“Mister Head,” Twigs piped up. “Where were you killed?”

Liv shook her head. “He can only respond to her—to Ruein.”

“And only so many questions,” said Ruein. “Still, that could be one. Tender, where—”

“That’s m’title,” the head cut Ruein short. “I mm a Tender. Name…Peridoc.”

Ruein nodded. “Yes, of course. Peridoc, where did this happen?”

“Made…work the night in citadel recoh…vvery. S’what get for beating Gune…cards. Was mistake. Humm. You…you pretty.”

“Not helping.” Ruein’s head dipped. What should she be grasping for? Wait. He said something about… “The eyes. You said their eyes burned. How did they burn? Was it a cold light? Small? Ethereal?”

“Hot. Tah-tot.” The head began to drift. “Ho, so hot. Hate. Heated, hated…meh. Hated so hard…burned itself out. Black smokin’ holes…last I saw.”

“Sound like anything you’d know?” Liv asked.

Ruein shook her head. Twigs shrugged as well.

The head croaked, “Oh!…and…bone wings.”

“What?!” Ruein yanked the head from the box.

The startled head glared at her. “Last saw. Sware.”

She dangled it by the scalp before her face. “What did you say about bone wings?”

“Was hidden first. Showed before all went…” The head drifted again, refocusing out to the eaves beyond the flet. “Like branches. Bony branches…spread wide. I’d…like…wings.”

Its eyes separated. Jaw slacked.

Damn! Ruein shoved the dormant head back into its box. Grabbing the top, she shunted the cover back on and reseated its clasps.

She rounded to Liv, holding the box out. “Here.”

“The fuck?” Liv winced. “Why in the hells would you think I’d want that?”

Ruein crooked her head. “He’s a victim, right? Don’t you want to put him to rest?”

Liv stabbed a finger back. “You smear necromancy all over it and then expect me to clean your shit up? Great. Well, you best resurface that ditchdigger look, girl, ’cause you’re going to be all over that duty.”

Twigs cleared his throat. “Not necessary. We’ll take both, him and the invite.”

Liv spun on him. “Excuse me?”

“I figure it’s a set-piece. Will be more official if we return with what we’ve learned.” Twigs smacked at Ceer’s calf, cueing the half-orc forward. “Thanks…uh…Rue’in, is it?”

Ceer reached.

Ruein retracted the box.

“Ceer and Twigs want job Ruein not want. Now think twice?” His tusks rounded over as Ceer let out a huff. “Was it gold?”

Twigs responded, “Don’t be silly, Ceer. Of course, it was.”

“No,” said Ruein.

Liv

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