The Labyrinth of the Dead Read Online Free Page A

alternative."
    "So how many places are beyond this?"
Portia followed her into the storefront.
    "Lots. Some are
even pleasant, or so I hear. But the road is harsh and treacherous and many of
us prefer to remain here. Most of us still have loved ones left among the
living, and we like to stay close. And it doesn’t get any closer than this.
Well, so far as I know, anyway."
    "Do you have relatives in Penemue? I
can certainly carry a message back to them when I leave here."
    "You are ever so
optimistic, Portia. Thank you for your kind offer, but no. What needs to be
said to them I can just as well say myself."
    "How does this work, then? How did you
come to be here?"
    Kanika clucked her tongue and dragged
out a crate from the cobwebbed shadows. She sat on it, reclining back on her
arms and stretching her legs out before her. "First of all, it is terribly rude
to ask someone here how they died. Especially since you have not had the
privilege of that experience."
    "My apologies."
    "Second, if you are taking one soul
back over with you, I think you should consider taking me along as well."
    Portia leaned against the dust-cloaked
counter. "Oh? You do, do you? I am afraid it is a bit more complicated than
that. To begin with, the lady in question that I am here to retrieve still has
a body that is very much alive, ready and waiting for her. I somehow doubt that
you have the same luxury. And I would need some sort of object that was
precious to you to help guide you back to the mortal realm; that is, if you
have not been dead so long you don’t remember it at all. Which brings me back
to my original question: How did you come to be here?"
    "There was a fire. I don’t recall much
other than that."
    Portia shivered to recall her own near
miss in the convent fire. "I see. Well, sadly, that hardly helps us. I am sure your
body is long gone, I’m afraid."
    "What if I could get another?"
    "Another body ?"
    "Sure thing! The necromancers come all
the time. They take the souls belonging to the bodies they have, and sometimes,
if they can’t find the right soul to go with the right body, they just pick any
ghost they like and take it instead. Seems to work; we never see any of those
taken show up here again."
    "I can’t say that is necessarily a
positive thing, Kanika. You said there were other places than this, worse
places."
    "Certainly, but when you’re freshly
dead, you always end up here. Unless you’re one of you. And then you usually
don’t."
    But what if you’ve already been dead
once…or twice, then what? "I cannot make you any promises, Kanika dear, but I will do my best to help you."
    "You will? Do you promise?"
    Portia paused,
carefully considering her words. "No, I cannot promise that to you. But I will
try to help you however I can without jeopardizing my own task here. You must
understand, Imogen comes first."
    "Sure thing." Her coquettish smile
returned. "Imogen. That’s a nice name. Sort of chimes, doesn’t it? Imogen!
Imogen!" Kanika called the name lightly and appeared utterly charmed by it.
"Does she persist in her own name here?"
    "I don’t know, honestly. I hope she
has, or at least she will know it when she hears it."
    "I hope so, too. Imogen. Such a nice
name. I’d hate to see it go to waste."
    Portia nodded and silence descended
between them. It felt terribly awkward to her, but Kanika showed no uneasiness;
she simply sat back and gazed at Portia with frank appreciation.
    "Well, then." The girl stood up,
seemingly finished with her staring, and brushed the cobwebs from the backs of
her thighs, twisting over in a vain attempt to bring attention to her backside.
"We had best get to bed. It isn’t safe to be out at night."
    "Night?" Portia craned her neck to see
out of the dingy front windows. "How can you tell? It doesn’t look any darker
than it was before."
    But the wind had picked up, and it
whistled around the edges of the doors and between the window panes.
    "At night, the storms come. Storms