Ray shakes his head and says, “I don’t know.”
Black and wilted flowers shed petals next to bundles of herbs so dry they crumble as we look at them. I pick up one of the shot glasses. Whatever he put inside is laced with tiny pink and purple veins, and has the consistency of curdled milk. I point to the mess.
“It’s not supposed to look like that, is it?”
“I’m afraid your necromancer friend was telling the truth,” says Ray. “You’re dead—half-dead—in the most peculiar way I’ve ever seen.”
“You’ve done necromancy before?”
“I’m not even talking about necromancy at this point. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
He holds up what looks like a crumbling rosebud.
“It’s like your body isn’t just dying, it’s dying in such a way that it’s sucking the life and vitality out of anything around it.”
I take a step back from them.
“Is it all right for me to be here? The last thing I want to do is hurt either of you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ray says. “We’re more alive and a lot bigger than these flowers and nettles. It’s just that I’ve never seen anything dying so aggressively before.”
Ray sets down the rosebud and I watch it crumble to dust.
I say, “Is there anything you can do to stop it?”
He uses his hand to sweep all the dead plants into a little heap.
“No. There isn’t. Not right now. But I can research your condition. The one bit of good news is that if your necromancer used an obscure spell it means someone else has used it before and that it’s going to be in one of my books. The bad news is that it might take me a while to find it.”
“Right now, time is as big a problem for me as dying. I just don’t have much of it left.”
Ray takes a small vial of purple liquid from one of the apothecary drawers.
“But I think I can give you a little more time,” he says. “Drink this.”
“What is it?”
He looks at me.
“I’ll make you a deal. You drink it and I’ll tell you why while you’re doing it.”
“Deals like that make me very nervous.”
“Me too,” says Carlos. “Can’t you just tell him?”
“I can and will. While he’s drinking it.”
I look at the vial.
“I don’t suppose I have much to lose.”
“You really don’t,” says Ray.
I pull out the stopper and start drinking. It’s the souresttasting thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. And it’s slow going down. The vial isn’t big, but the neck is narrow.
Ray says, “It’s a Spanish corpse preservative.”
I almost choke, but when I start to take the bottle away, he puts my hand back to my mouth.