“Hello,” Shae says faintly. His stomach churns. He’s never going to be used to this. “Sorry to bother you, I just need to get you back to… you.” He bites his lip, yanks off his left glove, and presses his palm to the dead woman’s forehead. He calls on his necromancy and whispers in his birth tongue, “Come home, friend. It’s time to rest.”
