Octavia sat on a stone slab that used to be a part of the inn, back-dropped by a pile of rubble higher than the buildings. Sicero stood before her, hands in pockets as he waited for her to collect her thoughts.

And when she finally found words, they came out in a frantic rush. "It was him. This village was just one big experiment. He wants humanity destroyed so necromancers can rule. He didn't care about Arietta. All that crying and pleading yesterday. It was all a show."

She wrapped her arms around herself, squeezing her biceps as anger set her chest ablaze. "How could I have been so stupid? He used Arietta as a pawn, and I fell for it. I never should've gotten so attached to the children."

"Don't say that. Those children love you. Arietta loved you. You brought them so much joy in such a bleak time." He laid a hand on her shoulder, the warmth of his palm seeping into her skin. "And thanks to you, they'll know a life free from fear of the scourge. You did in two months what I couldn't manage in ten years."

"To what end. Arietta is dead. Tallis' parents are dead, the village is half destroyed and—"

"And none of it was your fault." He sat beside her, his hand lingering on her shoulder. "All things considered, I'd say this is as favourable an end as we'll get. It's hard to accept, but some things are beyond our power."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. That was just a nicer way of saying she couldn't save everyone. Still a bitter pill to swallow.

Quintus joined them by the pile of rubble, dragging an unconscious Eli by one foot behind him.

"Is he alive?" Sicero asked.

"Unfortunately, and he may have a bit of a headache when he wakes up." He hoisted Eli up by his foot and shook him before letting him drop. "Priest can you take him back to the Cathedral and keep him confined?"

The High Priest nodded. "I should also inform Beatrix and Levi of these developments." He took Eli off the ground before laying him over the back of his horse. Then he tossed a smile at Octavia over his shoulder and pounded off.

Quintus rocked back on his heels, arching a bushy black brow. "Not going with your beaux?"

"No, Quintus." She walked past him and climbed the stoop into the shop. Her mind registered the chime of the bell subconsciously, and she stood there in the cold quiet, eyes roaming over the candles, scented waters and oils.

An impressive front for sinister research, Octavia decided. How charming it had been the first time she visited. Now the sight of it made bile pool in her mouth.

Quintus brushed past her and disappeared in the back of the shop. A moment later, a muted "damn it" sounded through the shop.

Octavia ran to the workroom and skidded to a halt at the door, a hand clamping over her mouth. Pauletta laid half across the bench, chisel in one hand while the other hung limp. She stared at the wall with the same abysmal eyes as her daughter. A wooden box sat in splintered pieces on the floor by her feet.

"By sin and symphony." Quintus closed her eyes and tossed his overcoat over her. "She's fresher than the girl. Three months old at most. Why would he turn her too?"

"Because he's sick. He's evil." Octavia's chest heaved, her breath coming in heated puffs as anger mixed with her disgust. "I should've snapped his neck."

He picked up Pauletta. "You'll certainly have the opportunity later. For now, we should return to the Cathedral. I'm sure your friends will have questions."

They left the shop as they met it and made the journey back to the Cathedral. While Quintus rode, she flew, her eyes on the horizon instead of the village below. The steady beat of her wings displacing the air didn't provide the calming comfort it used to and the green hues in her vision sharpened and blurred. She took her emotions and crumpled them together like useless paper, tucking them away in a forgotten part of her brain. It left her body cold and heavy, but numbness was far better than the cocktail or rage, sadness and regret.

A quiet trip through the Cathedral's halls followed her flight. They meandered their way to the infirmary—tucked away in the northwestern corner of the building.

Octavia held the door open for Quintus, and he squeezed through with Pauletta's unmoving body in his arms. The scents of bitter medicine and pungent poultices slammed into her, making her eyes water. The waiting area was empty, save for a lone medic who directed them to a room in the back.

Sicero and Beatrix stood with Levi in a corner while the medics hovered around the centerpiece of the room—Arietta, laid out on a bed three times her size.

As Quintus laid Pauletta next to her daughter, a solemn silence fell over the room, as grim and chilling as death's touch. A few of the medics bowed their heads or removed their caps. Beatrix scrubbed her face with her hands, displacing her eye patch and revealing the scars beneath it, while Levi averted his eyes and developed a sudden interest for whatever lied beyond the window.

Octavia pulled a stool from near the long table of medical supplies and sat hunched with her elbows on her knees.

"Where's Eli?" Quintus asked.

"He's holed up in a chamber on the top floor," Sicero said. "Pilar is watching him, so he won't be going anywhere."

"Good. We'll take care of him later. We'll also need a more thorough search of his shop and home." He stood in front of Arietta and her mother and heaved a sigh. "Our immediate problem is figuring out what to do with them."

"Put them in the ground," the head medic said. "They're dead."

"Not quite. What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, are cadavers. Souls trapped inside a rotting corpse."

"But how can that be? I thought soul and body couldn't be brought back together once separated." Sicero looked back and forth between Octavia and Quintus.

Quintus shook his head. "They can't. That's not what we're dealing with here. When a person dies, there's a small window where the soul lingers in the body. During that time, it's possible to trap the soul within the body with necromancy. And this..." He gestured at the cadavers on the bed. "...is the result."

"Then what are the red spots on Arietta's body?" the head medic asked. "Is it not the blight?"

"It's rot. Trapping the soul in the body doesn't hinder natural decay. The blight is essentially an infliction that causes the body to rot rapidly." He paced as much as space would allow. "Cadavers, like corpses will deteriorate over time. They exhibit human traits despite that—a heartbeat, cognitive function, and so on. But they're just meat puppets and necromancy is the string that makes them dance."

Annabelle medic leaned over the bed, getting close to the cadavers. "So, their strings have been clipped, so to speak?"

"Exactly so. You can tell by the eyes. And this is the only known way of uncovering a cadaver since most are discarded once the rot sets in. The necromancer who made them can choose how much control to exert over them. I wasn't here long, so I can't give any insight on this. Octavia?"

She clasped her hand together, lips quirking into a frown. "Based on the little I know, it seemed Arietta was given little instruction and allowed to act autonomously for the most part. I'm not sure about Pauletta, but since I hardly saw her around, perhaps he was stricter with her."

"Are you able to free their souls?" Beatrix asked, gesturing to the cadavers. "You can't leave them like this."

"We can't." Octavia kept her focus on her clasped hands. If she looked at Arietta, all those emotions she'd caged would break free. "Necromancy cannot pull a soul from its vessel. Once it's trapped in a corpse, it's there for good, even after the body becomes naught but trees and flowers. They'll never know eternity." She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on her clasped hands. "We have a crypt at the archives with thousands upon thousands of these, collected since the advent of necromancy."

She thought back when Arietta had asked her what happened after death. In that time she'd thought it was because the girl was dying, but perhaps Arietta knew she wasn't supposed to be here. All those sprawling meadows and beautiful beaches; she'd never see them. All she and her mother would know was an eternity of darkness.

Quintus picked up Arietta's arm and examined the red splotches marring her pale skin. "I have to say, they're in impeccable condition. Even the girl. It seems Eli figured out a way to slow down the rot, or at least contain it. I'm thoroughly disgusted by all of this, but it's impressive. Top-notch necromancy."

"Will... will Lyra be able to do these things?" Levi had turned away from the window but kept his eyes away from the bodies.

Octavia exchanged a glance with Quintus. "I can't tell you what kind of necromancer your daughter will grow in to. It's entirely her choice. Just because she's a necromancer, doesn't mean she has to be a necromancer. She could choose to disregard sin and symphony altogether. But if she chooses to embrace it, I'd recommend taking her to the archives. There she can learn why this kind of necromancy is so sick and dangerous."

"To add," Quintus said. "Most necromancers never get to this level. Nevermind Octavia and I, as we're veterans; necromancy is exceedingly difficult. Making a cadaver is nigh the apex of the art. I've been doing this for a long time and I highly doubt I could manage it. Not that I'd try."

Beatrix shook her head. "I'll need a strong drink after all of this. What do we tell the villagers, the children?"

"Tell the children Arietta died of her sickness. It's the truth. Tell the adults Eli was a sick murderer. It's the truth. Quintus and I will take care of the rest." Octavia stood. Perhaps she'd borrow a page from Beatrix's book and have herself a strong drink. Or ten. Then go out and drunkenly harass some netherborne to sate her anger.

"By the rest, you mean Eli?" Levi asked. "What will you do to him?"

"Same song and dance, we kill him and burn the body. After I have some fun with him of course. Would you like to do the honours Octavia?"

She shook her head. "You can make him suffer. But I want to light the match."