How To Raise The Dead: Second Breath Academy, #1

​Chapter One

​The Dark Clouds Are A Metaphor

This is as far as I go, the bus driver said in a broad Yorkshire accent, setting the rattling old bus on the side of the cobblestone lane.

Kati Wilson sighed.

Of course her first day at Second Breath Academy for Necromancers and Reapers would begin with an uphill hike.

What? a guy up the front of the bus demanded in a stuffy tone. "We’re meant to walk the rest of the way?"

The driver’s eyes narrowed. Got legs haven’t you?

Kati would have liked to see the stuck up guy’s face, imagining it screwed up in offense. He sounded like a right pompous twat.

Beside Kati, a perpetually friendly girl called Naia snickered, neatening the stack of books on her lap. For some reason, she’d decided she was Kati’s friend, not deterred by the dark rumours about Kati’s brother. Strange girl.

Naia pushed her aqua glasses up her straight nose and picked up what had to be the biggest duffle bag Kati had ever seen.

Kati grabbed her own bag off the floor, throwing it over her shoulder, not too bothered when it whacked into the window. There was nothing valuable in it, anyway; her most treasured possession was in her hand, a little cactus her brother Theo had left for her. He might have been on the run, but he hadn’t forgotten her first day at Second Breath Academy for Necromancers and Reapers.

Kati debated asking what the hell Naia had in her bag—it looked heavy enough to be used as a weapon—but that would involve talking and being friendly and Kati wasn’t in the mood.

She had what her parents described as a scowly look about her. Theo called it resting bitch face; Kati knew he was right and also didn’t care. Her face was her face—if she glared at people, she glared at people. Anyway, it stopped people from calling her things like cute and adorable because of her freckles, red hair, and turned-up nose. Or worse, pinching her cheeks when her traitorous porcelain skin flushed at the attention, as if she was just too cute. Which she’d been called enough times. Hence, resting bitch face.

But the RBF appeared to be malfunctioning today, and Naia stuck by her side, shooting her excited looks every few seconds. Anyone else’s excitement to start a new academy would be dimmed by the sister of a rumoured killer sitting beside them, but Naia was a very strange creature.

Resigned to her new friendship, Kati followed Naia into the aisle between seats, but she stopped dead when a sharp female voice whipped across the bus behind her. "Katriona Wilson?"

Kati turned at the venomous voice, the hatred dripping off it. Armour built itself around Kati’s heart, over her face, hiding any weakness from view. People were like sharks; any sense of blood and they’d rip her to shreds. She’d learned that pretty fucking quickly these past few months.

Yeah? Kati demanded, meeting the dark, glaring eyes of the one who’d spoken: a tall Asian girl, probably the same age as Kati—eighteen—with sleek, long black hair, dressed in a red gingham dress and an expensive-looking black coat. The bag draped over her arm was designer.

Kati raised an eyebrow; she hadn’t realised she was attending a stuck up, rich kids’ school. You got a problem?

The girl sneered. She might have been pretty, with her oval face, clear ivory skin, straight nose, and chocolate eyes, but the sneer ruined it for Kati. As did the scorn twisting her voice when she spat, I didn’t know they let psychopaths into SBA. Didn’t they learn their lesson with your dark lord of a brother?

It took a moment for the words to penetrate, whispers and muttering everywhere around her in response to her name, the accusation. Your dark lord of a brother. Kati was already wound up from expecting to be expelled; this was the last damn straw.

Fury boiled through Kati and she launched across the aisle, ready to claw the girl’s sneer from her face, but a hand tugged at her sleeve and held her back. With effort, Kati turned her glare on Naia, the black girl wincing as the full weight of all Kati’s anger landed on her. But still she dared a glance at Kati and whispered, She’s goading you. She’s trying to get a rise out of you.

Those words cleared Kati’s head enough for her to step back, giving Naia a tight nod. She faced the posh bitch again, narrowing her eyes but refusing to give her the reaction she wanted. I didn’t realise they let stuck up bitches attend either, but here you stand as proof.

The girl’s expression pinched, like she’d swallowed a lemon.

Kati gritted her teeth and turned her back, not giving the girl another second of her time.

The bus had fallen silent, but she acted like she hadn’t noticed. As if it didn’t affect her, the stares like knife wounds all over her skin, their judgement like poison eating away at her stomach lining.

* * *

All morning, the words of the prophecy had muddied Kati’s head as the ancient bus rattled its way toward the Academy.

She wasn’t supposed to know about the prophecy, but she’d found a scrap of paper in her brother’s bedroom, hidden under the mattress.

That was months ago, before all the accusations and interrogations began, when Kati’s life was still dull and blessedly ordinary. His room was empty of all his possessions now, a pleasant floral-print ‘spare’ bedroom, neatly erased of Theo’s existence by their mum and dad.

As if he were dead, and not just in hiding.

She almost missed the bottom step of the bus, and Kati panicked as the little cactus in her hand nearly went flying. She managed to rescue it through sheer determination, breathing a sigh of relief that it hadn’t splattered on the dirt-encrusted floor of the bus.

She’d found it waiting on top of her suitcase this morning, no note attached, but it was clearly from Theo. Her mum would have bought a spider plant for Kati’s new room, not a cactus, and her dad wouldn’t have even noticed she was leaving.

This spiky little plant was now her most prized possession, and she’d be damned if she was going to kill it before she had a chance to set it on a table in her new home.

Second Breath Academy, the school she’d been looking forward to attending ever since she was three years old and learned of its existence.

It was also the school that had wrecked her family, put a dark cloud over her own reputation, and sent her brother into hiding.

She’d been genuinely surprised to find an attendance invitation on her doormat four weeks ago, long assuming they wouldn’t want another Wilson in their hallowed halls after what happened last December.

Not that Kati was complaining—it was exactly what she needed to achieve her dream of becoming a practising necromancer. Without a good education, she’d be working out of back alleys and dingy offices. If any Eternals decided they’d rather do a runner than pay her for the reanimation she performed to make them immortal, she’d have no backup. With no repercussions from a necromancy agency, they could also decide to kill her.

But she had bigger problems right now, the biggest being that she’d arrive on SBA’s doorsteps only to have the teachers laugh in her face and send her home.

It could have been a mistake, even though SBA didn’t make mistakes, even though its headteacher was one of the most powerful death magicians on earth. And even she didn’t know exactly what had happened last December. Kati had spent these nine months desperate to know the truth, defending her brother without fully knowing what happened that night, because he couldn’t possibly have hurt anyone. It wasn’t in his nature.

And again, that damned Elizabethan prophecy echoed through the chambers of her mind, her pale fingers tightening on the cactus.

The Wilson childe will unveil the Thievede Tower, uncovere the Black Brooms, and stop evil spreading through Seconde Breath Academy once more.

Kati shuddered, happily shoving aside those words as she stepped onto a rough stone path. Her hackles were still up from the confrontation earlier, but she couldn’t stop her breath catching at the wide vista spread out around her and the other students.

The low valley sat between forest-covered mountains, with heavy rain clouds casting everything beneath them in shades of silver and grey, but rare sun rays managed to pick out highlights on a lake the colour of pewter cauldrons and the conical roof of a monument Kati knew was the legendary Fountain.

The whole scene was like something out of a travel magazine or a Windows 10 wallpaper.

Well, if you ignored the black, spiky castle towering over the pastoral valley, its long halls like dragon’s wings pulled back, preceding flight, and towers punching into the sky at three of the four corners.

It looked like the sort of place Dracula would rear his army of nightmare children. Fitting, for a school that taught death magic, reaping, and necromancy.

Kati smirked as the bus spat out the last of its passengers, and then let out a rattling groan as it puttered away from the valley, the academy, and the home that would shape Kati’s future, for better or worse.

***

The academy didn’t technically exist. It wasn’t on any map, in any travelogue or book, and a cloak of magic hid it from prying eyes. You could only see it—and get in—with a moonstone key like the one that dangled from a rose-gold chain around Kati’s neck, no longer than her finger and fine enough to resemble bird’s bones fashioned into a filigree skull at its head.

The valley itself was somewhere on the outskirts of York, and only the bus driver knew its exact location. The school was steeped in mystery and had been since the 1700s when it was established, with people disappearing for hours, others appearing without explanation across the other side of the academy, and a tower that had vanished ninety-nine years after it was built. But after what had happened ten years ago... Kati’s heart grew tight to think about it, the Black Brooms, the terror they’d spread, all the people they’d turned into blood puppets before slaughtering them when they’d outlived their use...

It’s exciting, isn’t it? a breathless voice asked, completely misreading Kati’s whole vibe.

Naia. Kati had almost hoped her RBF had started working again, and scared the frustratingly sunny girl away.

But no. Of course not.

Kati turned, an eyebrow raised, to face the girl hovering on the path beside her. Taller than Kati—though that didn’t take much, at five foot nothing—with deep brown skin, an oval face, hair in a thick French braid, and eyes so wide with excitement behind her blue glasses that they dwarfed her face.

Unlike Kati, who’d already put on her academy jumper, albeit with jeans, this girl wore a deep purple vest, smart trousers, and a long black coat with golden toggles. She looked stylish and sensible, and Kati wasn’t entirely sure why she was talking to her.

Aren’t you excited? she asked, bouncing on her toes and looking inclined to shoot into the air in elation. How her heavy bag didn’t function as an anchor to keep her on the ground, Kati didn’t know.

Kati could have answered her question any number of ways. I’m so excited, I’ve wanted to come here since I was three. I’m nervous to meet our teachers. I’m a bit scared, I’ve never been away from home before, let alone lived in a dorm for three whole years with strangers. But she didn’t say any of those things. What was the point in making friends when they were going to drop her the second they learned who she was?

Kati gave the friendly girl a flat look and reminded her, I’m Katriona Wilson.

The girl’s eyes flew wide at Kati’s tone, but after a second understanding crossed her pretty face and she held out her hand. I know. I’m Naia Clarke.

I know, Kati replied. They’d had this conversation already, and it should have sent Naia running. But here she stood, holding out a literal offer of friendship.

Baffled, Kati shook her hand as the bus rattled through the iron gates onto Second Breath Academy grounds. Making friends was not part of her plan, but what the souls? It wasn’t like it could get much worse.

***

It got worse.

As Kati and Naia followed the rest of the students down the snaking valley path towards the gothic academy, Kati’s shoulders crept up by her ears and her fingers locked around the strap of her bag. She waited for professors to rush at her, grab her arms, and drag her off school grounds.

Whispers followed her like a stalker through the verdant valley, shadowing her all the way to the circular driveway and the bronze statue of a distinguished looking gentleman at its center.

At least everyone in front of Kati had got off the bus too early to hear the drama the bitch on the bus had started. Not that it would take long for news to circulate. And not that Kati thought she could get through a whole academy year without anyone hearing her surname.

But she’d barely had an hour of anonymity. It was callously unfair.

Just ignore them, Naia said breathlessly, struggling with the handle of her duffle bag and her stack of books. Her turquoise glasses were askew on her face, her pupils blown wide with wonder the closer they got to the academy.

Why are you still talking to me? Kati muttered, sliding a narrow look at the girl.

Naia shrugged, her braid bouncing with the movement. "You don’t seem like a murderer to me. And anyway, just because your brother killed someone doesn’t mean you will. My brother’s a dentist but that doesn’t mean I’m going to perform a root canal."

Kati snorted before she could stop the sound escaping, and Naia grinned, the smile lighting up her amber eyes. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have a friend.

The whispers followed Kati all the way to the huge carved oak doors of Second Breath Academy, twin skulls looking down on her with what seemed like disapproval, and the SBA crest etched beneath each one: a shield containing a crossed wand, scythe, and athame—a necromancer’s knife. The giant knockers looked to be made of yellowed finger bones.

Kati told herself she couldn’t be sure the whispers were all about her, even if she heard her name thrown around not too far behind her. How long before the people in front started gossiping too? And then what about the rest of the academy when they arrived on Sunday?

Just keep your head down, she told herself. Pay attention in classes, get the work done, hide away in your room, and graduate without any danger, drama, or evil deeds.

The words of the prophecy rippled through her mind again but Kati shut them out. No. It would be a perfectly ordinary academy term. Three months and she could go home for a break.

Just three months.

It sounded like forever.

Attention! a whip-hard voice cut through the hushed talking, and Kati and Naia came to a stop behind the other students milling about around the statue. She craned her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who’d spoken over heads and shoulders much taller than her, to no avail.

This close, though, Kati could see more of the castle, the details in the jagged black bricks, the stained-glass windows casting rainbow light on the pale driveway and the wide stone steps. Above the great doors, and at periodic places on the floors above, crouched tiny gargoyles. They were nothing like the ones Kati had seen on holiday with her parents in Paris two years ago, which had looked small from afar but had been much bigger up close. These were tiny, no bigger than a house cat, and ... no they actually were cats. Little squashed, pissy-looking cat gargoyles.

Attention! the woman called again as the last stragglers caught up, joining the crowd amassed before the academy. Shortly, I’ll take a register; if you don’t respond when your name is called, don’t expect to attend the academy. I’ll tolerate no wandering minds, no inattention, and especially no messing around. If you give me a false name or respond to a name that isn’t your own, you’ll be expelled.

Kati exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Naia, who was looking more ashen with every word out of the teacher’s mouth. This woman wasn’t fucking about.

Kati made a mental note not to get on her bad side.

Of course, just having the surname Wilson could get her on everyone’s bad side these days.

For a split second, Kati cursed her brother for whatever he’d done, for all the fallout he’d run off and left them to deal with. But she couldn’t hate him; she had to believe in him. She was the only one who did. Everyone else, even their mum and dad, thought he’d done it. Killed that guy.

Is everyone listening? Speak now if you can’t hear me clearly, the professor spoke, her voice raised. A quiet rumble of confirmation went through the crowd, Kati nodding absently even though the professor couldn’t possibly see her over the heads of much taller students. Good. Now—Albright, Harley.

Harley Albright awkwardly lifted her hand, glanced around as if for help, and answered, Here?

Present, the professor corrected in a cool voice.

Damn. Kati’s stomach writhed harder, nervousness clutching her hard.

Present, Harley corrected awkwardly.

Hmm, was the teacher’s only response. Archer, Marigold

The register went smoothly after that, no student daring to step out of line. The snooty bitch responded to Chen, Alexandra, a name Kati filed away. Even when Kati heard her own name and responded, Present, no one moved a muscle. If the students in the rows before Kati were surprised, they daren’t show it.

Good, the professor said when the last student—Valentine, Georgia—confirmed her attendance. At this point, I am sure you’re all wondering at my identity. I am Mrs Balham. You’ll see me for your potions and poisons lessons on Wednesday evenings. I expect you to arrive prepared to learn, and to pay proper attention. Failure to do so will result in the poisoning of yourself or your fellow students and could cause a plethora of potion-related injuries, my least favourite being the inevitable face melting.

Kati gulped, picturing her own face sliding off her skull. No, thanks.

Now that you’re all present and accounted for, follow me into the assembly hall where Madam Hawkness, our esteemed headteacher, will formally welcome you to your first term of Second Breath Academy.

​Chapter Two

​A List of Teacher’s Names You’ll Forget in a Minute

She is not what I expected.

Kati blinked as she got her first glimpse of Mrs Balham. She had been expecting a tall, pinched-faced woman with a tight chignon and a long, dour dress. Instead Mrs Balham was a sturdy woman with a square jaw and cropped blonde hair tipped in red, dressed in biker leathers and big, heavy-looking boots.

Well. That’d teach Kati to jump to conclusions.

The teacher led them up the stairs and into the academy, then briskly ushered them into the entrance hall, muttering to keep up.

Naia gasped, grabbing Kati’s arm and earning her a slant of a look. Look, Naia breathed, gazing up at the ceiling, undeterred by the flat glare Kati had sent her way. The Diamond Rotunda! I’d heard the stories and read all the books about it, of course, but to see it...

Kati pried the girl’s fingers off her arm, throwing a casual glance above their heads—and inhaled a surprised breath. Above the entrance hall, and past two floors of staircases, was a glittering dome made of what appeared to be diamonds—white, red, champagne, green, cognac, and black varieties, all clustered into a stained-glass-like window. It threw multi-colour spotlights onto the double sweeping staircases in the lobby and the many mezzanine levels that hovered above their heads.

It was, Kati had to admit, pretty damn awe-inspiring. Would they take any lessons up on the top floor, just underneath it? Kati couldn’t imagine ever being stressed or angry up there; it must have had the same wonder and grandeur as a cathedral.

Keep up, Mrs Balham barked ahead, and Kati realised almost everyone had stopped to stare at their surroundings, from the marble busts of previous headteachers—Kati’s favourite was a severe looking woman with a knife between her teeth named Ingrid the Terrible—to the vaulted windows letting in pale light and setting dust motes spinning through the air, to the many corridors and rooms branching from the lobby, and that impressive staircase.

There were statues, busts, and paintings everywhere, and Kati even recognised a few of their subjects—an oil masterpiece of Mistress Halliwell, who’d established the academy and taught for over a hundred immortal years; a bust of Lord Montag-Mayhew, who’d first discovered that the underworld could be reached by portal sigils; and Gracious Campbell, the world’s first necromancer.

Into the assembly hall, Mrs Balham ordered. That’s it, this way, chop chop.

Kati followed the stream of new students through the