by Amy B. Nixon
“Doran Dustrikke, I’m calling for you! Answer me!”
There was a tight pull from behind my navel, as if something was dragging me forward, similar to the sensation I got as a kid whenever I went higher and higher on a swing.
An ashy fog rose from the paper, swirling towards the ceiling, spreading in length and width, until it formed the shape of an elderly man. Translucent and eerily frowning, the apparition wasn’t happy.
“Why have you summoned me?”
It had a deep voice, like it wasn’t a spirit, but a real life human. I wasn’t sure how to answer him, so I stared into his transparent eyes and tried to pick my words carefully.
“I’m Learyn Dustrikke, your relative.”
“Why have you summoned me?”
Apparently, it wasn’t the correct answer.
“Because I need to practice my summoning. You’re recently deceased, on top of that you’re my relative, and as a necromancer, disturbing the dead is something I do.”
He didn’t reply, but the fact that he didn’t ask me again meant my sarcastic answer was explanatory enough. Unsure of what more to tell him, I silently watched the transparent outlines of his body, and wondered if I was going to have to go through the same conversation during my upcoming test, or whether summoning Edor was the better choice.
Remembering his brother reminded me of something else.
“How did you die?” I blurted out before the thought even fully formed in my head.
“I took my own life.”
“Yeah, I know that. You and your brother took your lives. But why? How did you make the decision to commit suicide?”
Silence.
“What were you running from so badly, that you chose death?”
“The matters of my death are not something you should concern yourself with.”
“They are, if you thought it was better to die than fight whatever threat you wanted to avoid. Did my aunt die because of the same thing?”
More silence.
“Answer me!”
He didn’t. I gritted my teeth, suddenly sensing familiar irritation coursing through my veins.
“Edor Dustrikke! I summon you!”
I had no idea if it was because I was more powerful than most necromancers, or if summoning simply got easier after the first success. Regardless of the reason, Doran’s older brother manifested next to him, a mere second after I called his name. Turning my head to the new ghost, I shot him a stern look.
“Why did you take your life?”
Edor glanced at Doran, then fixed his eyes on me. “Do not meddle in manners far beyond a young girl’s comprehension.”
The guy was born in the late nineteenth century, so he had the right to call me a young girl. But seeing how both of them kept the reason for their deaths a secret, only fueled my irritation. My annoyance became so brutal, my New Year’s resolution about not letting emotions get the best of me headed straight for hell.
“I’ve fucking had it with people telling me I should keep my head low and not meddle in things I don’t understand until I’m old enough! The Council told me my aunt was dead, and they believe her death was caused by the thing that ended your lives. What were you running from?”
Neither of them replied.
“How many times do I have to ask you? I’m the last fucking Dustrikke in existence! If someone or something is after our line, I need to know what it is, otherwise I can’t fight it! The two of you obviously thought the easy way out was death, but I want to live! And if that means fighting–”
“You cannot fight it,” Edor interrupted me. “None of us can.”
“What is it?”
“A power stronger than any necromancer or Midgardian.”
“Why is it after my family?”
“It’s not,” Edor corrected me, “it’s after Asgard.”
The realm? That didn’t make sense at all.
“What is it?” I demanded again.
This time Doran opened his translucent mouth. “Don’t meddle in these matters. Stay where you are, and you’ll be safe.”
Neither of them made any sense. What did the Dustrikkes have to do with Asgard apart from being… Created by a Vanir goddess who resided in Asgard!
“Is this thing after Freya?”
“In a way, it is.”
Edor responded in the vaguest way possible, prompting me to ask myself what sort of thing would want to reach Asgard. If this unnamed power wasn’t after our world, then it was the gods’ fight, not ours. Why were Dustrikkes taking part in it, when the consequences were nothing other than death?
“Did this thing kill my aunt?”
“Stay where you are, and you’ll be safe,” Doran repeated bluntly.
“Don’t tell me what to do! Tell me what I’m asking you!”
Silence. At least now I knew why I was always so stubborn and hell-bent on keeping my thoughts to myself. The traits simply ran in the family.
“Screw it. If you don’t want to talk now, I’ll keep trying every day until you change your mind and tell me truth I deserve to know. No, the hell with that! I won’t even bother summoning you day after day. I’ll just keep you inside this stupid pentagram until you decide to give me a proper answer.”
“You’re not ready,” Doran’s ghost bent forward, leaning towards me. “This island is a safe haven. Stay here. You’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, and what happens when the Council finally allows me to leave this hellhole?”
“Then we will talk about another safe haven.”
“Well, in that case you’ll spend the next fifty-fucking-years bound to the pentagram!”
I stormed out of my room with the idea a walk would help me calm down. I would get back to my ancestors later, when I wasn’t irritated, so I could act like a calm grown-up.
But my legs barely made it two floors down before I remembered something my mind had kept obstructing from me since the last time I’d seen Brühl – my rendezvous with the Nøkk.
I ran back to my room, shut the door, and faced the two spirits.
“It’s Amyria, isn’t it?” I asked, crossing arms over my chest. “That force is Amyria.”
The two brothers exchanged glances, but neither of them bothered confirming or rebuffing my theory.
“Why am I marked by her if she’s after Asgard? What does Amyria want with me? Why is my aunt dead? How did Amyria kill her? Why do I need to be protected from Amyria?”
More questions and a lack of answers. Typical.
***
Over the course of the next few days I built a routine – wake up, ask the two brothers the same things, watch them keep quiet, then get back to reading about spells and magical creatures.
Living in a haunted place was supposed to be scary, right? Having some stupid ghost knock things over? Or wake you in the middle of the night with screeching sounds? Or wail in a creepy voice whenever you were trying to do something serious? My room was haunted, but apart from the sight of the translucent apparitions, there was nothing strange about it.
The pentagram kept them within its bounds and prevented them from wreaking havoc in the room, but the refusal to speak was their own doing.
Fortunately, summoning and keeping them here didn’t take its toll on me. It would have had severe energy-draining and possibly eitr-straining consequences if I had tried to control the spirits. But since I wasn’t the bloodthirsty, soul-stealing necromancer from that Judas Priest song, I made no attempts to use magic for controlling Doran and Edor in any way. I simply let the Spirit Trap pentagram do all the work.
If it hadn’t been for my ghostly routine, I probably would have felt anxious about the two tests Brühl mentioned, but the only thing on my mind was Amyria. The only ones who were willing to utter her name, while everyone else pretended I hadn’t asked anything, were those murderous Nøkk. Unfortunately, my chances of asking them were nonexistent. I had no freaking idea how to get off the island, let alone how to ask them in such a way, they wouldn�
�t eat me for dinner.
All of that changed on the first Saturday of January.
The Dining Hall had started filling with people returning from their holiday trips. To my utter disgust, I saw Monika’s telltale purple head at dinner. I tried my best to keep as far away from her table as possible, while making my way towards another one.
“Learyn!”
Pretending, I hadn’t heard her yell, I kept walking.
“Learyn!”
Before I could take another step, she materialized in front of me.
“Go away!” I hissed and went around her.
“Please,” she begged, grabbing my arm, “talk to me!”
“Relieve me of your presence,” I growled out the words without bothering to look at her.
“I know you’re still angry, but I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
I yanked my arm free and finally looked into her eyes. They were watery, pouring atonement. She was obviously still carrying the guilt of what happened. I would have felt sorry for her if she hadn’t chosen the Council’s side last time we talked – a choice which only made my decision easier.
“Leave me alone. I don’t give a shit about your feelings, the way you didn’t give a shit about me as a friend.”
“That’s not true,” she protested and caught me again just as I was about to walk past her. “I’ve always been your friend, and I do care about you. Please hear me out!”
“I’m done listening to other people’s bullshit, Monika! Get the hell out of my way, and stay gone! Because if you don’t, I fucking swear next time you decide to grab me like that, I’ll use magic offensively!”
Drawing back from her, I took an empty chair and focused on more important things than yet another liar whom I’d believed blindly. Things like the Nøkk and Amyria.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to think about new ways of getting answers for long. One such new way was staring at me with her signature glare.
Aurora fucking Nordstrøm.
She had just walked through the doors, followed by a bunch of minions. According to my mentor, my two tests would be next week. If I enraged Aurora and she killed me, I had exactly one day to come back to life if I wanted to not fail Monday’s test in evocation simply for not being present. Piece of cake, right?
Oh, and on top of that, I actually had to think of something worthy enough for Aurora’s help. She wasn’t going to help me out of the goodness of her heart.
But what could I have, compared to Aurora? I couldn’t use anything as a bargaining chip. She was beautiful, everyone was in awe of her, her family owned the island and were probably zillionaires. They paid for everything – heat, electricity, water, food, the guards, the house spirits…
The only thing I had was my Eitrhals, but it belonged to the Council. So, what could I use to my advantage against the bitchiest bitch around here?
“Aurora!” I called out her name, following her and her minions as soon as they finished their dinner and walked out of the Dining Hall.
Her group turned, all facing me.
“Are you looking for trouble, Swallow?” Aurora asked, tilting her head to the side. “Do you want to join Mommy and Daddy in the afterlife?”
“Don’t call me that!”
I had spent two seconds talking to her, and I already regretted it. I had no idea why she hated me, but she definitely made me hating her easy.
“Hmm, I wonder how the Council will punish if you don’t show up for your mandatory evocation test on Monday.”
“I don’t know,” I said, mirroring her head motion. “Why don’t you go ask your uncle what happens if you try to kill the last Dustrikke in existence?”
Aurora burst into laughter, but everyone around her remained quiet.
“You’re joking,” she scoffed.
“I’m not. And by the way, I saved your life, so you owe me a favor.”
Shit! I’d said it. I hadn’t meant to go there, but she drove my irritation meter all the way up to the insanity bar. I regretted using it as a bargaining chip, despite it being the truth. Now there was no way to ignore the humongous elephant in the room and start this conversation from the top, pretending I hadn’t dropped the life-saving bomb.
“I’m returning that favor by not murdering you again,” Aurora smiled wryly, “so get the hell out of my sight.”
“Not before I talk to you in private.”
Everyone remained silent for a while. Just as I was about to press my luck, the Queen Bitch nodded to her group. Her minions took off without hesitation, like humanoid robots.
Aurora pushed my shoulder towards one of the smaller corridors that branched out from the main one leading to the Dining Hall, and stayed behind me. She was either going to kill me soon enough, or she had indeed agreed to talk. The latter option was absurd, but I clung to it because my life depended on it. Literally.
“Speak,” she hissed the word, swerving around me, and came to a stop when we were deeper down the isolated corridor.
She was a head taller than me even as I wore stilettos. Her height, combined with her angry look, was just as menacing as the thrills I had experienced while she had been walking behind me.
“Who is Amyria?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your uncle knows.”
“He says it’s nonsense.”
“Do you believe him?”
She put her hands on her lower waist with obvious annoyance. “Why would he lie to me, when we lost a Zolotov student over it?”
Now it was my turn to scoff. “You cared about her?”
“Of course, idiot! She was my friend! And her death strained our relations with Zolotov. Even if he lied to you, my uncle wouldn’t lie to me about it.”
“Okay, what if he said it because he doesn’t know what it means, but there is indeed someone called Amyria, and the Nøkk were right? Don’t you want to know why they attacked us?”
“Where are you going with this?”
“I want to ask the Nøkk. The Council isn’t letting me leave the island because I’m the last Dustrikke alive, so I need your help.”
“Doing what exactly? Getting a free pass for a suicidal trip? Sure, I’d gladly help. Let’s go ask my uncle right now.”
Sarcastic Aurora was just as infuriating as Murderous Aurora. I wanted to curl my hands into fists and hit her right in that pretty face. I wanted to hit her so badly, she’d be scarred for life. Then maybe someone would cheat on her or talk behind her back, too, and then she’d get off her fucking high horse.
My last attempt at bringing her down hadn’t gone as well as planned, so I clutched my fists, restraining myself from using them on her face.
“You must know a way to sneak me out unnoticed,” I whispered, struggling to steady my heavy breathing. Fuck! I’d never, ever met someone who made me want to get so violent. Then again, I had never met someone who not only wished me dead, but had actually gone through the trouble of actually killing me. “I also need your help talking to the Nøkk in a safe and non-fatal way, unlike last time.”
“You can’t even see–”
She paused mid-sentence, her jaw dropped with the tiniest hint, and her eyebrows curved up. She had probably remembered that, for whatever reason, I could see the Nøkk, unlike her and most necromancers. And it just gave me the bargaining chip I needed.
“Aurora, please! I promise I’ll substitute Monika whenever you want to go spy on the Nøkk. Broad day, midnight, whatever, no questions asked. Unlike her, I’ll go whenever you call.”
“The Council tightened our anti-Aperture wards. Now no one can overpower them, not even me, so your proposal is useless.”
The spark of hope died as suddenly as it had appeared.
“However…” Aurora knit her eyebrows, scanning the empty air above my head. “There is another way to get you out.”
“Anything!” I nearly jumped from the rush of excitement.
She dropped her hands with a sigh.
“I’ll do it, b
ut only because I have to go near the Norwegian Sea’s seawater away from this island and only because Monika is on lockdown. No one can know about this, do you understand me? No one! I can’t end your bloodline, but I can find more ways to make your life living hell than your tiny head can count!”
“I won’t tell anyone and I won’t ask any questions! I promise!”
She studied me in silence while I tried my best not to shiver from the adrenaline galloping through my body.
“Get rid of Monika tomorrow morning around nine. I’ll come and get you from your room.”
“Wait! I changed rooms. I’m in four-one-two on the fourth floor, no roommates this time.”
“Fine, wait for me there. And don’t tell anyone!”
Before I could assure her I’d keep my mouth shut, she spun around and disappeared into thin air. I stared at the empty, torch-lit corridor, then closed my eyes, trying to teleport like her. When I opened my eyes, I was still standing in that very same spot.
Good thing no one would be testing me in Aperture.
“Who’s Amyria?” I asked Doran and Edor, entering my bedroom.
Like always before, they didn’t answer.
I didn’t regret torturing their spirits by keeping them in here. I only regretted the fact that ghosts didn’t have a need to pee and do other stuff, because then it would have been torture. And maybe, just maybe, they would have been more cooperative.
“You’re free to go,” I muttered, unsure of how to release them, because I hadn’t advanced enough with Svensson for her to teach me how to banish a ghost.
Both of them vanished.
I thought the act of banishing spirits from the Spirit Trap would make me feel something. Maybe it did, but my system was overtaken by stings of excitement, worry and slight irritation, so I couldn’t fully understand it.
On the bright side, I wasn’t going to fail my evocation test.
On the much brighter side, I was finally getting some answers tomorrow, even if it meant disregarding my aunt’s pleas to not leave the island – again – so I could visit bloodthirsty monsters who’d taken another necromancer’s life – again.
At this point the borders between insanity, stupidity and thirst for answers were so blurred, they basically didn’t exist.