Valen knew he was being coerced. He felt it to the core of his being, but the Taxidermist was so seductive that he couldn’t break free of the hypnotism. He felt he might give up anything, even his soul if he lingered.

  “I don’t think I’ll take that deal.”

  “Choose wisely, Witch. This offer will not be repeated.”

  Valen flipped up the flap up his tarot deck. “I will not bargain with my heart song.”

  The Taxidermist picked up a pair of shears on the table and clicked the blades. He tapped his lips with the end of the scissors and glanced over a shoulder. His tone was dark and alluring, with the promise of death. “Then I suggest you run.”

  Valen bolted for the door and disappeared into the darkness. Winding down pathways, searching for the light. He whistled for Perdita to navigate him out of the Taxidermist’s lair of nightmares. She appeared and guided him to Blood Street. The Taxidermist didn’t chase, nor did he send his minions to collect Valen. It might be construed as a blessing, but Valen knew the Taxidermist was playing with him. He allowed the escape. There would be payment for Valen’s folly later.

  Valen collapsed on the sidewalk and hung his head in defeat. After today, Valen refused to return to Blood Street. The Taxidermist would be watching him, and it was not good to be his target.

  Shoving onto his feet, Valen wove his way to Divination Street. The cresting dawn steeped the city in newfangled possibilities, but the frigid hand of terror chilled him to the bone. Valen made a terrible mistake propositioning the Taxidermist. He prayed to Khaos that it did not later bite him in the ass.

  The Taxidermist threaded a line of grass-green aura through the seam of a cured hide. He was in his lab working on a revenant after his encounter with the divination witch. He did not receive the information he desired, but he could have the witch trailed. He was unconcerned. People were easy to watch when they were constantly looking over their shoulders. The more they worried, the more obvious their movements and mistakes were made. The Taxidermist had eyes everywhere in the city, ears poised for any whisper of information. Patience and planning made better bedfellows than a hurried and emotional pursuit.

  He angled his head to better regard the stitches he sewed. His fingers were deft and mesmerizing as he wove the geometrical pattern for healing into the flesh. A handmade heart peeked through the fleshy casing as he hemmed in his intentions. Each heart was designed using ground bone and porcelain, mixed into a plaster, molded, and heated in a kiln. The Taxidermist glazed the finished heart and sewed the enchantments into the flesh surrounding it.

  The revenant resting on his worktable was impotent of vitality. A patient corpse stuffed with cotton and bones. She would not reanimate until the heart was connected and the soul was stitched in place.

  He hummed a tune in his native tongue. There were several dialects in the Han Empire, but he was from a small countryside on the southwest border. His mother had sung the folksong religiously every night before her unexpected death. He must never forget the hand he was dealt by fate. Jae Eun mumbled the harmony, her voice not quite resonate, more airy and scratchy but beautiful to his ears. Her soul was a constant reminder of what he lost and what he hoped to gain.

  The Taxidermist was a monster of monsters.

  He was a master of all except his own destiny. He envied Khaos. To have unbridled power with no consequences was a dream. To have absolute control would be ecstasy.

  The Taxidermist pinched his fingers and gave the aura threaded through the needle a hearty yank. It bunched the flesh in his frustration. He loosened his grip and smoothed the skin before resuming his next enchantment. He wasn’t emblazoned with anger at the divination witch’s refusal to cooperate. He was pensive. Everyone had a weakness and a price. The Taxidermist had to discover what the divination witch would give up, and then all the secrets of the heart song would be his for the reaping.

  The Taxidermist had mastered all the auras. He wielded them with precision. No other witch in Libra had influence over the fabric of the universe. He was more god than a witch. The Taxidermist may have control over auras, but he did not have command over his own fate. The irony of his limitations was the driving force that sought him to research the heart song.

  It combined auras and fused souls. He required these elements for his personal use and would stop at nothing to gain access to the heart song’s components. Once he had ultimate power, he could continue his work. He came close to finding solutions with the revenants, but even they were imperfect.

  Jae Eun had ceased her singing, preferring to chatter and click her sticks. He let his voice fade, joining her in the haunting hush of his workroom. He caressed the cheek of the revenant on his table, and fondness overtook his expression. The revenants were his greatest creations, but they had not solved his problems.

  He began working on the revenants as a way to discover how to bring the dead back to life, but he had not been successful. He animated the revenants and gave them a soul, but they were not truly alive. No force on the world egg could recreate life. At least not yet. The Taxidermist was persistent, and with the heart song secrets, he’d have infinite time to discover a way to resurrect a ghost.

  He inspected the beauty of the revenant on the table. In his quest for resurrecting the dead, he found purpose. People would do anything to thwart death and live forever, even becoming an entirely new entity. They’d rather live as a revived corpse than not at all.

  Next, he would sew the soul into the hide. The payment for becoming a revenant was binding the soul to the auras the Taxidermist harvested from the etheric field. Each time the hide needed to be changed, the auras would have to be restitched. The Taxidermist was always sewing. His fingers were callused from the dedication he had to his craft. The puppets did not house a soul. They were an extension of his mind and auras, but not autonomous like his other creations. The revenants. They were works of art.

  After the last stitch was knotted, the magic of the green aura flared, and the flesh surrounding the heart pumped with vitality. He hummed in satisfaction and prepared to summon the revenant’s soul from the spirit realm. He set the heart inside the cavity he crafted behind the ribs. Taking the loose ends of the aura strings strung through the hide, he sewed them into the beating heart.

  Souls were tricky. In order to receive the soul, the Taxidermist had to attach one of his auras at the point of death and create a tether. When he yanked on the aura, it would signal the soul to return to the physical plane. The rest of the soul’s journey was guided by magic.

  The Taxidermist tugged on his light blue aura, and a zing of magic spasmed along the line. The soul resonated with his intentions, and he closed his eyes to begin the incantation. The Taxidermist chanted for the soul to travel from its resting place. A flash of white light announced the soul had passed through the etheric field.

  When he opened his eyes, he saw the soul hovering over the revenant. He took a pair of enchanted scissors and cut the line of his aura from the soul. He placed the shears on the table and waited for the blue line of his aura to blend in with the others attached to his body.

  The Taxidermist directed the soul with his magic. He lifted the needle and threaded it with a white aura he’d previously harvested from the etheric field. Long, elegant strokes of his hand wove magic into the body and bound the soul to the hide. The process was lengthy, and one wrong stitch would undo the entire matrix of auras woven into the revenant. Sweat trickled down his temple, and Jae Eun patted his forehead with a cotton rag. He bent toward her, and she hugged his jaw. His cheek pressed to her porcelain body in reverence. The Taxidermist would tear the world egg apart for Jae Eun and smite all those upon it.

  With the last stitch, the revenant was ready to rise. He clasped the hand of the revenant and whispered the last incantation.

  A gust of wind blew across the room as the revenant’s eyes shot open. She sat up like a board flipped on its edge. The revenants maintained their bones, but without muscles and tendons, their bodies were not as sturdy. The intricacies of the auras acted as the nervous system and gave awareness. They conducted magic through the hide, and the soul managed the rest.

  “You are part of my family now,” The Taxidermist welcomed the revenant. “Your name will be Go Seng.”

  As soon as he named her, the revenant glowed a gloomy gray. Pain and sorrow, suffering and misery, and enduring the hardships of life. That was the name she would carry in her heart and soul. It was fitting, for her soul had been filled with agony and grief.

  The Taxidermist crossed to the sink and washed his hands. He let his ebony hair down from its tie and shook the strands over his shoulders. His task was completed, but more work was yet to be done.

  Work like studying the heart song bond.

  He would fuse his auras if it was the last thing he did on the world egg. In order to do that, he needed the incantations of the heart song. The divination witch had not been as easy to coerce as he anticipated. Desperate people were willing to trust anyone, even the Taxidermist. Being bound to the dead should have been all the motivation the divination witch needed.

  The Taxidermist straightened, and an insidious smile curled his lips. Inspiration ignited his mind. If one side of the heart song equation did not budge, then he would put pressure on the other.

  He signaled for Jae Eun to climb up to his shoulder and the revenant to follow. He would send his minions of Blood Street to discover which soul belonged to the divination witch. Once he had a name, the Taxidermist could summon the witch from the spirit realm.

  The dead were as desperate as the living.

  Perhaps even more so.

  Valen swigged down his fourth cup of coffee. He was an idiot to solicit the Taxidermist.

  “Oh, god. What did you do?” Cimmeria’s voice blasted as soon as she appeared.

  Damn, he wasn’t going to be able to conceal this major muck-up. “Hi, Cimmeria.”

  “Khaos, it’s really bad, isn’t it? I don’t know if I want to hear about whatever it is you did while I was gone.”

  Valen set the mug down and crossed the room. He tried to lure a smile into being but failed with abominable ineptitude. Cimmeria was going to light him on fire and dance on his ashes when she found out he sought the Taxidermist.

  “It’s like this, Cim,” He attempted a causal tone, but he faltered after the first sentence.

  “Out with it,” She bent a knee and tapped her toe so fast the action vibrated across the floorboards.

  Valen let the incident rush out like a rampaging carriage on a collision course. “I went to the Taxidermist to try and find a way to give you permanence. I figured if you had a body, then all the magic between us would have a place to go, and the etheric field would be safe. Obviously, there’d be parts of the heart song we couldn’t complete, but at least we’d have a starting point. It seemed like a great idea at the time.” It all ran together in a jumble that expressed an apology and a plea as one.

  Cimmeria dropped her arms, and she appeared stunned. It was eerie the way she froze and stared at him as if he had disappeared. He shifted closer, afraid he’d shocked her into a weird, comatose soul state.

  “I can’t be sure,” She mused with her red and blue auras alternating in their pulsations. “I believe my ears picked up on a confession that you went to the Taxidermist to fashion me a body. Or,” She paused here after shouting the last word, “You were going to dig up my bones and then stitch someone else’s skin onto me?”

  Valen went for innocence as he explained, “I thought it might help.”

  Cimmeria shimmered and closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You cared enough to try an option way outside the box. Was it weird? Yes. Are you insane for contacting the Taxidermist? Also, yes. I’m shocked, but I know your heart was in the right place. Your mind, not so much.”

  He raised his hands to her hips and pressed her close. “I want things that defy reason. I want it all with you.”

  “I know.”

  Valen tried to imagine the rest of his life as they were right now. “I can’t think straight anymore. I want you, and I don’t care what I have to do to fully claim you.”

  Cimmeria murmured her words into the crook of his neck. “We’re on this path, whether it’s easy or wrought with obstacles. I want to join with you too, but not at the cost of my soul.”

  Valen leaned his cheek on the top of her head. He felt her in all the ways that counted but wanted more. “Let’s go to my mother tomorrow. I can introduce you, and she can try to contact Khaos through her magic.”

  She eased away so their gazes connected. “That sounds like a great plan. Much better than the Taxidermist. Valen, I know you aren’t going to change overnight but try not to do things unilaterally anymore. It’s going to get us into a heap of trouble.”

  His expression was ripe with ruefulness. “I’ll try.”

  She slipped her hands down to rest on his chest. “That’s all I ask.”

  He leaned over and pressed his mouth to hers, and she reacted as if electrified. Her teeth nibbled his bottom lip, and he groaned as he gave in to the kiss. Valen’s magic poured into her, and he felt her form become more real with every brush-like kiss. Cimmeria hummed in bliss as she swiped her tongue over his, and they seemed to devour each other. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and he tightened his hold.

  He walked them across the room, but Cimmeria sensed his intentions. She wasn’t ready to throw caution to the wind. They had the pall of their differences hanging above their heads. The rise of passion fell suddenly, and she broke off the kiss.

  Cimmeria combed her fingers through her hair. “It’s getting late. You are forgiven, but no more independent decisions.”

  “Thanks, Cim. I won’t go to Blood Street for answers anymore. I’ll come to you when I get inspired.” He watched as the sun faded from the sky. “I have to prepare for work.”

  She stood on her tip-toes and kissed his lips once more, though the sensation would have been better if she were real. With a resigned sigh, she said, “Call me when you are finished. I’d like to go to the Bleeding Heart Café.”

  Valen watched her fade into the mystery of the world, and he wondered if the universe would throw them a sprig of luck. Cracking his neck, Valen set out his tarot deck and runes. He lit the candles. Same story, different day, but this time it felt mournful.

  Chapter 10

  Cimmeria leaned on the star at the northern point of her ship constellation and sipped moonbeams. Asteron sat across from her, waiting for her to reveal her newest bout of troubles. It might appear to an outsider that he was the perfect mate. That she was abandoning him for Valen. The truth was not so simple. She cared for Asteron, but his calming nature was often bothersome. She wanted to shake him until he got angry, cursed, or did anything except sit there with a dopey look on his face.

  “You are glaring at me,” He snickered, and his azure eyes gleamed with the reflection of the star’s luminosity.

  Cimmeria grumbled, “Valen propositioned the Taxidermist for me.”

  Asteron scooped a handful of stardust and let it sift through his fingers. “That’s indeed a strong course of action.”

  “Is it weird that I’m attracted to his recklessness? His nose isn’t even healed from being smashed, and he’s already courting more trouble. Yet I can’t refrain from wanting to touch him.”

  Asteron shot out a laugh. “No, it is not strange that you are enamored with your soul mate. I’d be worried if you were not.”

  “This is weird, though.” She wagged a finger back and forth to indicate their personages. “We were created to populate the world egg. Here we are chatting as if this topic is about what we had for breakfast.” She tipped more moonbeams down her throat, and a delectable tingle permeated her soul.

  Asteron’s features were neutral, as usual. “What do you want me to say? That I’m jealous? I’m not, and I won’t ever be.”

  Cimmeria tossed the cup into space. “Valen envies you.”

  “Why?” Asteron was genuinely baffled, and his face proved it.

  Cimmeria dangled an arm over the side of the star as she reclined. “I suspect it is because you and I get along so well, and you are able to interact with me in a way he cannot.”

  Asteron’s brows slanted as he digested her words. “We talk. I hardly think that’s cause for alarm.”

  Cimmeria tipped her lips into a soft smile. Asteron was oblivious when it came to expressions of love or affection. He needed things spelled out and drawn with diagrams when they were alive. He was wise, but he did not comprehend how innocuous gestures could feel like grand affairs. When she wanted a brush of his lips to ease the tension of the day, he had regarded her as if such an action could not change the past or affect her future. She had to explain that the here and now is what she wanted to experience. That one kiss would evaporate all the stress and make her smile. She’d felt lonely, even when she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t Asteron’s fault. They weren’t soul mates, but they had cared for each other in their own way.

  “Never mind.” Cimmeria conjured a file and groomed her nails. “There must be a way we can bridge the physical gaps between us without triggering a catastrophic reaction.”

  “Being liberated from a body can be cumbersome in this situation,” He mused and tossed a handful of stardust into the air.

  “We went to a bone witch, but we had no luck. My soul can fuse with my remains, but I’d be nothing more than an animated skeleton. I don’t think I’d mind living like that. No hair to brush. No bad morning breath. I wouldn’t get hot or cold. Heck, I wouldn’t even need to eat.” She paused her amusing rant and let out a frustrated sigh, “We are going to visit his mother tomorrow. Perhaps her prophetic magic will lead us to better answers.”

  Asteron nodded once. Listening with diligence and politeness.

  Cimmeria tapped the file against her palm. “We’ve exhausted all our options except the witch council.”

 

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