Blog Story #22

Sorry for the delay. There isn’t a lot going on this section but its needed to build the story.

Despite all his mother’s books on the fae, necromancers were barely touched upon. A footnote in his favorite book ‘All About Fae’ only held a small mention of their existence. They were considered political ambassadors because death doesn’t pick sides.

“I’m never going to get my job back,” Finn moaned.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Criss waved away Finn’s concerns with a languid hand. “What better detective is there than one who can ask the dead who murdered them.”

“Or it will make me a target for every murderer. A smart killer wouldn’t leave behind a person who could talk to their victims.” Finn couldn’t help pointing out the flaw in Criss’s statement.

Amon wrapped an arm around Finn in a side hug. “Everything will be fine. Necromancers are an essential part of fae culture. You’ll be able to help the king communicate with his ancestors to guide him. In the past a necromancer was essential to every royal court.”

Finn raked a hand through his hair, tugging at the locks in frustration. “And how many necromancers do you know?”

“The last fae necromancer died two hundred years ago,” Krane offered. “But there are other races that have their own death talkers.”

“Death talker? Is that what you call necromancers here?”

“Only Krane,” Criss said, his expression neutral. “We’ve been without a representative on the necromantic board long enough that there has been talk of death having abandoned the fae.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad one?” Finn shrugged at their expressions. “What? It’s a valid question.”
Amon groaned. “I forget that you didn’t grow up fae. You never want to be abandoned by a god, Death or not. Every deity is essential to a healthy society. If Death no longer answers our call we lose our connection to our ancestors. No ancestors. No history. All that knowledge is lost if we can’t talk to the ones who came before us.”

“Huh. I never thought of it that way.” The idea of being a bridge between the living and dead appealed to Finn. He’d become a cop because he wanted to help people. He’d always loved history. If he could get over the creep factor, talking to the dead could be amazing.

Criss spoke again, breaking into Finn’s thoughts. “We’ll have to get you trained.”


“Unless you know how to spontaneously call the dead to your side we’ll have to send you to another necromancer to teach you their ways. From what I remember fae necromancers access their magic differently but another necromancer can give you a solid foundation,”Krane interjected.

“And where will we find this mystic mentor?” Finn fiddled with the sheet on his bed. Things were changing too fast for him to plan ahead.

Krane slid a finger across one of Finn’s feathers. A pulse of pleasure ran down his spine. “We’ll talk to the king. He’ll be able to get you set up. Go take a shower. I’ve put some clothes in the bathroom for you.”

He couldn’t put to words his lack of excitement over seeing the king again. While he didn’t have a preference of light over dark when it came to the fae, the dark king scared the crap out of him. Not seeing a way out of this situation, Finn went to take a quick shower and get dressed.

Finn had barely glanced at the clothing before plunging into a hot shower to wake up. His muscles pulled as he washed his hair, unused to the weight of wings, wispy or not. He rolled his shoulders trying to settle them back into his skin. It took more time than he liked, but eventually they sunk back beneath his flesh. “I hope I get the hang of that soon.”

It wasn’t until after he’d bathed that he got a good look at the clothes Krane had left behind. The pants were black leather made from something that definitely wasn’t a cow and the shirt, also black, flowed across his body in strips. Confused about the construction, Finn slid his head through the hole in the top. The front was a solid rectangle with a strange emblem on the front of some flower he didn’t recognize. It wasn’t until he released his wings again that he the shirt’s construction made sense. He was in the land of fae, of course they would have clothing to accommodate wings.

“Idiot,” Finn chided his reflection. “I look like something out of someone’s winged porn book.”

“I’d buy that book,” Krane offered.


“No problem. Krane stepped up to join Finn in front of the mirror. “We make a cute couple.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “We aren’t a couple. I’m going to help the royals find the killer and then I’m going back to my job.”

Amon took that moment to join them. “As cozy as this is we need to join the king for breakfast.”

Finn sighed and followed them out of the apartment. The trio surrounded him as they traversed the palace like his own sexy bodyguards. It really was unfair how attractive the fae were and his group in particular.

Criss wrapped his arm around Finn’s as they walked. Finn tentatively tried to take it back only for Krane to capture the other. He cast a helpless look at Amon over his shoulder and received a smirk in return.

Three turns later they were in the dining hall.

As they entered all eyes fell upon them. Only the fae holding his arms held him from fleeing. Which was probably why they were clutching him like barnacles.

“Welcome necromancer,” the king declared into the silence.

Finn bowed his head. “Thank you, my king.”

The trio offered their own greetings before the four of them found places to eat.

4 thoughts on “Blog Story #22

  1. I’m waiting to read the whole story at once. I read the first bunch and then had to wait so long that I forgot so this time I’m waiting for the end. I miss your stories so much

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