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“Most of the old houses in the city have cellars,” he told me as he seated himself and took up his glass. He plucked a piece of sliced fruit from the tray and tossed it into his mouth before he took a sip of the drink. “They’re foundations of older homes, and parts of the old imperial palace where now resides the Plaza was incorporated into the shops around its perimeter.”
I picked a few bits of cheese from the tray and popped them into my mouth. The slices melted on my tongue, and after a swig of the wine I felt alive again. “Tully really knows his stuff with cooking, doesn’t he? Where did he learn?”
“His wife,” Ben told me as he cast a contemplative gaze into the fire. “She was a very fine cook, and in the time of my father many would come from far and wide to try her dishes.” He nibbled on some meat as he chuckled at the memory. “Sometimes they would arrive without warning and demand just a bite of her cooking. My father was always annoyed with such bold people, but she was always glad to give them a bit of her famous berry syrup cake.”
My ears perked up at the name. “Really? Does Tully know how to make it?”
Ben’s eyes twinkled. “Would you like to try it?”
I snorted. “Does water flow downhill?”
He chuckled. “Anything with magic is possible-”
A single loud knock echoed through the house. Ben sat up in his chair and frowned. “That came from the back door.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Tully appearedin the doorway a moment later, and there was a strange look in his eyes. Ben shot to his feet and a dark cloud fell on his brow. “What is it?”
Tully sliced a finger across his throat before he set a hand over his heart. I didn’t have a direct translation, but the imagery was enough to lose some color in my face. “What does that mean?”
“It means you need to remain here,” Ben commanded me as he set his drink down and strode toward the door.
I made to follow him out into the hall, but Tully grabbed my arm in a gentle but firm hold. He shook his head at my pleading look.
Together we watched Ben approach the rear door. The dark silhouette of a person stood on the other side of the entrance. Ben reached the door and drew out the silver dagger before he grasped the handle. My heart thumped loudly in my chest as he opened the door and brandished the weapon in front of him.
The figure on the other side threw their arms up in front of their face and cowered beneath Ben’s threat. “Mercy!”
Ben paused and all of us had a good look at our ‘visitor.’ The figure was a man, with ‘was’ being the operative word. The person who stood on Ben’s threshold was a rotting corpse like all the others we’d met in the cemeteries, but unlike the others, this one wasn’t trying to eat our brains. The creature peeked out from between its shaking fingers and its filmy eyes flickered over Ben.
“I do not mean you any harm,” the corpse assured him as it slowly lowered its arms and displayed its empty hands in front of itself. “See? No weapons. No thirst for flesh.”
Ben lowered his weapon and studied the creature. “Then why have you come here?”
The corpse straightened a little and tried to press the dirt-filled creases from its grimy funeral attire. It was then I noticed he wore a tattered robe that hid most of his body. “My name is Thomas Fox, and I wish to discuss what has happened to my brethren.”
I started back at the name. “You. . .that name. . .didn’t I see it on a grave in the Meager?”
He gave me a toothy grin and bowed his head. “Quite right, miss, and you are the one who toppled into my gravestone roughly a week ago.”
The color drained from my face. “You know about that?”
“Yes, but that isn’t why I came to your door,” Fox confirmed as he returned his grim focus to Ben. “I must speak to you about immediately before more of us are awoken.”
Ben kept the dagger in his hand as he stepped to one side. Fox slipped inside and Ben gestured to the study door. “We can speak in there.”
Fox’s steps weren’t quite as balanced as a normal human. He shuffled like an old man, though truth be told he could have been. The corpse, however, still had a healthy head of hair and though his flesh was shriveled with time there weren’t any signs of sagging skin from old age. Fox kept one eye on Ben as he slipped into the study.
“Ah!” he exclaimed before he hurried over to the fire in the hearth. He held out his wrinkled hands to the flames. “It’s been a long time since I felt the warmth of a good fire.”
“How long have you been in the earth?” Ben wondered as he caught Tully’s eye. The servant bowed his head before he exited the room, mindful to keep the door open behind him.
Fox lifted his face and wrinkled his dirt-stained brow. “What year is it?”
“Seven hundred and ninety-nine,” Ben told him.
He dropped his gaze back to the fire and a bittersweet smile slipped onto his lips. “Then I have been in the ground for nearly forty years. Time truly does fly when one is resting.” He paused and frowned. “That is until I was so rudely awakened by some dark force only a few hours hence.”
