Eleven

"That cannot be what Sextus reduced it to," Harrow says with no small amount of horror. A series of expressions from the disgusted to the murderous cross her face, before she lets out a sigh and closes her eyes. "Yes," she says stiffly. "I can make skeletons walk around. And I am adept at far more things than just that. I am the greatest necromancer of my generation."

One corner of her mouth quirks up; even if none of the others from home are there to hear her say it--and given their likely reactions, Harrow's glad they're not--it still satisfies her on a deep and abiding level.