Sai had been arguing with Jack, the street’s resident paladin and only gigantic sentient spider, for almost twenty minutes now and so far all they had succeeded in doing was getting quite exasperated.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE PERSON HAS TO HAVE BEEN MURDERED"

The spider tapped the tips of its legs against the tiles and glowered back at them.

"Yes MURDER! - There are rules, schemas which must be obeyed. This is precisely why necromancy is inherently unethical."

Sai cupped their face in their hands and groaned.

"Well maybe if you had told us that I wouldn’t need to ask! Why would you only tell me now!"

The spider looked genuinely surprised, and responded slowly, a quiet sadness leaking into his deep inhuman voice.

"Because, I and my family have spent the last thirty years putting an extraordinarily excessive volume of effort into keeping this evil knowledge out of people’s hands."

Sai grimaced, whilst in general they did not think of knowledge as inherently good or evil, they did understand the issue with letting people know that a certain type of magic was only viable by murdering someone. After a moment they decided that instead of arguing further it would be far more productive to focus on the semantics of the problem.

“Err, can you define murder?”

Jack focused his many eyes on Sai who hurriedly clarified.

“I mean, obviously I know what murder is, but I mean is there anything specific, like if I was dying already and someone slit my throat would that count?”

Sai stood locked in Jack’s silent stare for a moment as they watched the spider sway back and forth as he considered.

“That would not be sufficient. Necromancy is a brutal primal form of magic. In order to raise a person from the dead, body, mind, and spirit you need nothing short of ritually removing the person’s heart. Anything short of that such as your ‘slit throat’ example would result in only the body or spirt being animated. It is natural for body and soul separate at death; the ritual is required to bind them in perpetuity.”

Sai pinched the bridge of their nose and shuddered at the thought. They paused to check their phone and re-read Al’s extremely insane message, pushed their squeamishness aside and approached the situation like a problem to be solved.

“Oh-Kay… SO assuming the ethical concerns are not a factor, is there a way we could make it more comfortable for the subject? Can the person be asleep, or unconscious? Would anaesthesia work?”

Jack paused his swaying and glanced around the room furtively.

“Perhaps, this could be a possibility, assuming the ritual is followed, follow me. The answers are likely held within the inner sanctum.”

Shortly after Sai found themselves following Jack through the dank stone corridors of the fort, to a dark oakwood door they had never seen before. The wood was stained near black with age, its brass plaque so marred and warped they had to squint to read the words etched into it.

“The Library.”

The words felt heavy on their tongue, more like a title than a description and as Jack opened the door and scuttled inside Sai felt overwhelmed by a bubbling wrongness unlike anything the had ever experienced. Wary, but determined they followed Jack into The Library.

Inside, were rows of bookcases, each ancient wooden structure bending under the weight off hundreds of thick leatherbound volumes. It looked at a glance like an ordinary library, but Sai focused on keeping it no more than a glance, just in case. Instead, they kept their eyes on the familiar skittering form of Jack who at about the midway point, did something that Sai did not quite see but which caused a nearby bookcase to slide away with a grinding thud.

A chuckle escaped Sai’s lips at the living horror cliché but was cut short as Jack glared at them with his many eyes. After a moment he turned back and passed into the shadowy recess leaving Sai standing amongst the bookshelves listening to the sound of heavy objects being moved, a thud of a thick tomb being opened and the sound of tearing.

A moment later, Jack returned with a torn page and a black handled knife in a leather sheath.

“It will work if you use this and cut according to the ritual diagram.”

He pressed the items into Sai’s hands and ushered them out of his lair, muttering dark threats of vengeance should Sai misuse the borrowed tool.

As the heavy oaken door slammed shut behind them Sai considered the statement and examined the diagram. The giant spider had given instructions on how to cut out the heart of one of their mutual friends, what really could ever classify as misuse in that light?

Sai stood for a second and considered, there were actually quite a few ways to misuse a magic knife when they thought about it. After a moment of pondering, they pushed the much-appreciated distraction aside and checked their phone - no message from Al yet, so they had time to get some extra supplies.

They checked the sky, glared at its discordantly merry visage, and reviewed the position of tower bridge and made their way to the right, towards what passed for Stevie’s home.

The journey there was swift, the street sloping gently down towards the woven wooden door of Stevie’s impromptu post office and current residence. It was an odd sight, a selection of nets and branches grown and woven into a single woody, still living hut.

As Sai approached, Stevie stepped out, the cool glow of the post office portal backlighting her as she nodded solemnly towards the approaching figure.

“Hello Sai, I have a package for you, it was difficult with the portals the way they are, but we managed it.”

Sai nodded, unwilling to pull on the thread of what was wrong with the portals and instead reached a hand towards the dark wood dryad who handed it to them with reluctance.

“Thanks for keeping an eye out, I don’t know what we would have done if Red hadn’t found a site sketchy enough to post anaesthetic.”

The dryad nodded and tapped her leg with one hand, the near black of her nails rapping a sharp beat on her hard skin.

“So.. it’s happening then? Red did explain why you’d need it, but I have to be honest I hoped it would pick a different option.”

Sai shrugged and swayed nervously, their habitual grandiosity significantly dampened by the weight of the blade on their thigh, they instead idly checked their phone, still no message from Al. Concerned at the silence from Al they made their excuses, slipping the package into their breast pocket as they left the dryad postmaster to her business.

As they walked aimlessly, Sai found themselves repeatedly pulling their phone from their pocket, swiping it unlocked and checking for new messages before popping it back and starting the process all over again. Step, swipe, check. Step, swipe, check. Step, swipe, check. Step, swipe message from Al, the short sharp words immediately etching themselves into their brain.

“I decided we should meet at the infinite graveyard. No point you carrying my corpse there afterwards.”

They considered the message as they walked under the bright midday sums, the mottled blue and red light washed over them as they attempted to process Al’s calm nonchalance. Was that a good sign, an inherent confidence in Red’s plan or simply it’s acceptance that death was coming and there was nothing it could do to avoid it.

This line of thought was disrupted when the ground beneath Sai’s feet abruptly shifted from rough tarmac to smooth well-polished cobbles, and they found themselves falling as their stiletto heel slipped sideways along the new surface.

Thoroughly disarrayed, and suddenly sat upon the ground, a disgruntled Sai examined the offending shoe, bright red, scuffed and now ending in a splintered, loosely hanging heel. They glared at the broken shoe for a moment before tearing it off and jamming it into their coat pocket, considered for a second and then took off the second shoe pushing it haphazardly into their other pocket.

Frustrated, embarrassed and dishevelled, Sai took a deep breath, brushed down their skirt, put away their phone and began to walk, their bare feet taking them towards the distant silhouette of the infinite graveyard.

…

Al glanced up as Sai approached, their face a blank slate marked by distant eyes.

“I spoke to Li and Jack. They are confident they can bring me back.”

It paused and rubbed Bitey’s head nervously, taking great pains to not look Sai in the eyes.

“How long will I need to be… dead for?”

Sai fiddled nervously with the end of their brightly coloured tie.

“Red thinks... a few days, maybe a week? I’m sorry Al, if there was another way…”

Al just shrugged.

“I appreciate that, and well… thanks for being the one who does it… I always know I can count on you for help when things get complicated.”

The pair shared an awkward look for a moment and Al began pulling off its hoodie-shirt combo.

“Well, best get started. I’ll die for a bit and you lot can do the heroic stuff whilst I’m… away?”

Sai’s mouth curved into an almost smile as they took out the package and unwrapped it to reveal a syringe prefilled with pale liquid.

“A gift from Red, there is no need for you to be awake during this after all.”

They attempted a smile as they helped Al with the injection. “Don’t worry I checked.”

Al smiled and nodded, its movements becoming slurred and slowed as the drugs rapidly took effect. Sai watched unsurprised; it was after all technically an overdose. Hands shaking Sai steeled themselves and removed the enchanted blade from under their skirt. It was a detail they didn’t feel Al had needed to know, but the deceit still turned their stomach, the pale light of the distorted suns glinted off the blade as they held it aloft.

Sai took a deep breath, and careful not to think too much plunged the knife down into their friend’s chest as Bitey watched curiously. The dragonling sat still and calm as Sai worked, their calm eyes damp, but understanding as Sai finished their assigned task to the letter.

Soon it was finished. Al lay dead, and Sai was according to the ancient long forgotten laws of necromantic lore, a murderer.

Or at least. So, they hoped.