Things couldn’t have been more embarrassing. I’d scared this guy out of his wits, my spell failed, and now my mother was checking in on me.

If the spell had worked, he’d have crossed over and he’d be at peace, but now, there he was, ogling my mother.

I didn’t know what I was doing. I was a noob necromancer at best, despite my natural ability. I’d always known who I was, and that I was different, but with necromancy being illegal in the United States and in every province in Canada, my mother had hidden me here and kept my training minimal.

While the Great Awakening had brought fairy and magickal beasts back into this world, the rest of us had already been here—including some of the gods. Before there were laws against certain types of magick, I would have passed under the radar, but now? Now there were prisons designed to contain people like me.

I was embarrassed and I let my emotions get the best of me when I snapped at my mom.

“You see. This is what happens when you don’t train me properly. Now he’s stuck here. I could even be the reason he’s here in the first place, just like Cheetoh.”

My mother tilted her head and smiled mischievously. “So, the mummy is still here, is she? I would have thought you’d have kicked her out by now.”

It wasn’t easy having a goddess for a mother. She found everything “interesting” or “amusing,” she rarely got mad, but she didn’t understand what it was like to struggle or feel powerless. Growing up, everything that happened to me was a “lesson.” I would have given anything to have her hold me when I scraped a knee or mourn with me when I lost a pet.

“Ar—are you the Raven? Are you taking me to the other side?” Darren asked.

I had to admit, Darren had put up with a lot of shit from me since he died, and despite how scared he was, he was holding his own in front of my mother.

The rats had all disappeared at the sight of my mom, except for Tanner. He’d hidden himself in the white rat patch sewn into the back of my jacket, but I knew he was there. Good ol’ Tanner, my best friend.

My mother shook her head, her movements always slow and dreamlike, just like her voice. When I was young, I had wanted her ruby eyes. I loved them. But in this world they were dangerous and I had to cover my black-and-grey eyes with brown contacts, less they raise suspicion.

“No, not really. Like a vulture in some religions perhaps, but my daughter did not call me here to ferry you,” my mother answered him.

“Oh, okay. So just Cecile’s mom then. That’s cool,” Darren said, nodding to me like he understood.

I folded my arms and looked at my mom. “I had this. The spell didn’t work, but I’ll figure it out. I wasn’t trying anything advanced, just a standard summoning for his safe passage.”

She floated toward us, the fabric of her dress moving like it was in water. “There was nothing wrong with the spell. None of the dead are able to leave Silverbrook. That is why I am here, my love.”

“Oh, huh,” I replied scratching my head. “I mean, was it something I did? Was I saying incantations in my sleep again?”

My mother laughed softly, the power of it stirring up all the energy in the room. Darren’s soul wavered, and he looked around, probably unsure of what he was feeling or what had caused it.

It wasn’t often the goddess of death laughed, so when she did, it affected the energies around her, strengthening them. He didn’t need to know that. She laughed a lot around me, so I guess she thought I was funny.

“I’m not sure, and that is why I came here—before another death god sticks its nose in. The rifters are already circling. I had to deal with them before I came,” my mother said with a hint of irritation.

“Uck, yeah. That sucks. Are you staying for a while then? If so, I’ll get this place cleaned up and we can grab some lunch. I’m starving,” I told her as I walked over to the podium. If the dead weren’t able to leave Silverbrook then this was going to be a long conversation and I might as well eat while I had to endure it.

Did I want to talk to ghosts, accidentally resurrect mummies, and be surrounded by darkness and dead things? No, but that’s what happens when you are born a natural necromancer, and especially when you are the daughter of death.