“You have been kind to me, Mistress,” Tilly said as she laid a gentle, wash-wrinkled hand on Magda’s shoulder. “More kind than most folk, even when you had no need to be. Most ignore me as I go about my work. Even though I’ve worked here most of my life, many don’t even know my name. Only you have ever asked after me, or offered me a smile, or a bite to eat on occasion when I was looking haggard. You, of all people.”

Magda patted the warm, comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re a good woman, Tilly. Most people don’t see the simple truth in front of them. I have offered you nothing more than common decency.”

Tilly nodded. “Common decency is what most of your standing would offer only a woman born noble.”

Magda smiled distantly. “We are all noble, Tilly. Every life is . . .”

Magda had to swallow, fearing that another word would put her over the edge.

“Precious,” Tilly finished for her.

Magda managed a smile for the woman. “Precious,” she agreed at last. “Maybe I see things differently because I wasn’t born noble.” She cleared her throat. “But when a life is over, it is over. That is the way of life. We all are born, we live, we die. There is no coming back from beyond the veil.”

Magda considered her own words and realized that they weren’t entirely accurate.

It occurred to her for the first time that it might have been that he had brought death back with him, that even though he had succeeded in returning from his perilous journey to the world of the dead, perhaps he had never really escaped its grasp. Perhaps he couldn’t.

Tilly fussed with the end of her apron strings as she mulled something over for a moment.

“I don’t wish to upset you, Mistress,” she said at last. “It is only because you have been kind to me and always treated me with respect, that I would tell you that which I would dare not speak of to another. But only if you wish to hear it. If you don’t, you have but to say the word and I will never again speak of the matter.”

Magda let out a deep breath. “Tell me then.”

Tilly ran the side of a finger along her lower lip as she took a final glance around the somber room before speaking.

“Down in the burial vaults, Mistress, down in the tunnels running far underground near where some of the departed are placed and most visitors aren’t allowed, my friend says that the wizards working for the war effort have found a way to bring the dead back to life. Though I admit that I have not seen such things with my own eyes, she swears on her soul that it be true.