The spell took everything.
Lucien felt it the moment the magic left his wand. The pulling sensation began in his chest and spread outward, as if someone had hooked their fingers into his ribs and yanked. It wasn't exactly painful. It felt like the air was being torn from his lungs, even though it wasn't air at all.
The truth followed a heartbeat later. It was him. The part of him that made magic work.
His vision blurred. The rooftop tilted sideways.
Merle's wrist was changing. Torn flesh began to knit itself back together. The bleeding slowed, then stopped. Skin crept over the exposed muscle. The wound still looked awful, but it would not kill him, rot from infection, or bleed him dry in the night.
The spell released its hold and Lucien's knees buckled.
He grabbed for the wall, fingers scrabbling against concrete, and barely caught himself before he face-planted. His legs felt like water. His chest was tight, breath coming in shallow gasps that didn't seem to bring enough air.
"Bloody hell," he whispered.
His face was cold and clammy. He could feel sweat running down his temples.
He'd known Episkey would cost him. But this...
This was worse than he'd expected. It felt like someone had reached inside and scooped him out, leaving nothing but a hollow shell that happened to still be breathing. His magic was just gone.
He was empty. And they weren't safe yet.
Lucien forced himself to straighten, using the wall for support. The rooftop swam in and out of focus. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, and looked at Merle, who was still unconscious. He was breathing, at least. That was good. But he was lying out in the open on the rooftop, exposed to the sun and the wind.
"Right," he muttered. His voice sounded distant, like it was coming from underwater. "Can't... can't leave him here."
His gaze drifted to the fire escape. There was shade there, and some cover. It wasn't much, but it was better than leaving Merle lying in the open, baking in the afternoon heat.
Lucien stumbled over and grabbed Merle under the arms. The man was dead weight and heavier than he looked. His first attempt to lift him went nowhere. His arms trembled, muscles refusing to cooperate, and Merle didn't budge.
"Come on. Move, you git."
He tried again, this time putting his legs into it, and managed to drag Merle maybe half a foot before his strength gave out and he had to let go. Merle's head lolled to the side, still blissfully unaware of the world.
This wasn't working.
He sat back on his heels, breathing hard, and tried to think through the exhaustion clouding his brain. He couldn't lift Merle. And carrying him was out of the question. But shoving him might work.
He got behind Merle and pushed.
It took forever. Every few feet, he had to stop and rest, muscles screaming and vision darkening at the edges. Still, he kept going, inch by inch, until Merle was at last in the relative shelter of the fire escape overhang.
Lucien collapsed next to him, chest heaving.
Then he heard moaning drift up from below, accompanied by shuffling footsteps and the occasional thump of bodies striking the walls.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he whispered.
He pushed himself up and had to use the wall again, his legs completely shot, before looking over the edge of the fire escape.
In the stairwell below, he counted a dozen walkers at least, shambling through the corridors. They kept drifting back to this part of the building. They hadn't found the roof yet. But they would. It was only a matter of time.
His hand went to his belt, fingers brushing the Invisibility Cloak where it was tucked away. He could put it on. But the cloak was not big enough for two people. And even if it were, even if he could somehow drape it over both himself and Merle, it would not last.
Merle would wake up eventually. He would feel the fabric. He might pull it off and see what it was. Then Lucien would have to deal with a violent, unstable man who had just discovered an artifact that could make him invisible to the dead, while Lucien himself was magically depleted and unable to defend himself if Merle decided to take it.
No. That was suicide.
But leaving him unprotected was just as bad. All this effort would be wasted if walkers found him while Lucien was hiding under the cloak.
He needed to think.
He fumbled in his backpack and pulled out a chocolate bar. The wrapper crinkled loudly in the quiet. He tore it open and took a bite, forcing himself to chew and swallow even though his stomach was rebelling. He drank from his water bottle, and waited for the sugar to hit his bloodstream. It helped. Not much, but enough that the world stopped trying to tilt sideways.
Two minutes. That's all he allowed himself. Two minutes of rest, and then he had to move.
His gaze drifted to the walker corpses piled near the door. They were fresh, or as fresh as the dead could be, still reeking of rot.
An idea took shape.
He got to his feet and walked over to the corpses on legs. He grabbed the first one by its tattered shirt and dragged it toward Merle.
The smell was incredible.
He gagged but kept going.
He piled the corpses on top of Merle, covering everything but the man's face. The smell was overwhelming now, strong enough to mask any scent of living flesh.
Lucien stepped back and pulled the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders. Reality bent as the enchantment took hold, his body fading from view.
Now for the walkers downstairs.
He could not fight them or use magic, and he could barely stay on his feet. But he could lure them away and give both Merle and himself time to recover.
The question was how.
---
The answer presented itself on the floor below the rooftop.
Lucien had been searching for options, something he could use to create a distraction, when he spotted the window. It had once been floor-to-ceiling glass. Now the bottom half was shattered, leaving a hole that opened onto a three-story drop.
He dug out the electronic alarm clock he had been carrying with him. Then he tore down a thick curtain and twisted it into a makeshift rope, tying one end to a metal pipe he'd scavenged from a storage room.
The pipe became a fishing rod. The curtain became the line. And the alarm clock became the bait.
He carried the contraption to the floor directly above the broken window. After finding a room with a clear view below, he extended the pipe out through the window and lowered the alarm clock until it hung about half a meter above the ground outside the shattered window beneath it.
He secured the pipe with duct tape and fire extinguishers, making sure it would not slip.
Then he went back downstairs.
The walkers were spread throughout the building, shambling aimlessly through corridors and rooms. Lucien counted at least twenty. More than he'd expected. The thunder must've drawn them in from blocks away.
He picked up a chunk of concrete and threw it at a metal filing cabinet.
Clang.
Every walker in the building turned toward the sound.
They moved slowly, shambling toward the noise.
The alarm clock went off right on cue.
Beep beep beep beep beep.
The walkers converged on it like sharks to blood. They pressed against the window frame, clawing toward the sound, and one by one stumbled through the gap.
Gravity did the rest.
Bodies hit the ground three stories below. None of them got back up.
He watched from his hiding spot as the walkers threw themselves out the window one after another. The sight was disturbing in its own way, like watching lemmings hurl themselves off a cliff, except these lemmings were already dead and didn't know any better.
When the last walker had fallen and the alarm clock was still beeping into empty air, Lucien managed a tired smile.
It had worked. Crude and makeshift, and probably not something that would have occurred to him if he hadn't been half delirious with exhaustion, but it had worked.
He tucked the Invisibility Cloak back into his shirt and started the long climb back to the roof. His vision kept blurring, and twice he had to stop and lean against the wall until the dizziness passed. But he made it. Merle was still there, unconscious beneath his blanket of corpses.
Lucien slid down beside him, back against the wall, and let out a breath.
They were as safe as they were going to get. The walkers were gone. Merle was hidden. All he had to do now was rest and wait for his magic to come back.
He closed his eyes.
The exhaustion felt like a living thing pressing down on him. He had spent days running, living in fear and adrenaline, and forcing himself past every reasonable limit. All of it caught up with him at once. His head felt heavy and his thoughts were getting fuzzy.
Just a minute, he told himself. I just need to rest for a minute.
The world began to tilt again, slowly and gently, like a ship rolling on calm seas. His eyes drifted closed. And this time, they didn't open again.
Darkness swept in like a tide, and he slipped into it without resistance. His body finally gave in to demands he had ignored for too long. He lost consciousness before he fully hit the ground, slumping against the wall beside Merle.