Necromantia: Vol. 1-3 (Three Book Set)

by Matthew Buza

  “Jesus, they killed him,” Lazarus said.

  “He's dead?”

  “I think so.”

  “What does that mean for us?”

  “It means we need to move. Now!”

  Isaac saw the urgency in Lazarus's face and he wasted no time following the necromancer up the mountainside.

  Below on the beach, Buer spoke to Aamon. The demon bowed and pulled on Jalon's legs dragging him towards the fire pit. Buer turned and stared up at the mountain, and his eyes closed in on Isaac and Lazarus running up the cliff. He raised his arm and pointed his razor-sharp claw.

  Isaac looked back to the beach to see Buer speeding along the white sand towards the base of the mountain, his legs flipping and pounding the ground. A small dust cloud appeared behind him like a horse making distance across a desert.

  Isaac turned back to see Lazarus thirty feet ahead of him. “Buer is coming!”

  Lazarus didn't break stride. “Move your ass! I'm not going to wait for you,” he screamed.

  “I hope you know what you are doing!” cried Isaac.

  They reached the staircase and began to climb up the mountain ridge to the peak above. Down either side of the stairs were sharp cliffs with deep valleys cut into the face.

  Lazarus slowed, fighting to breathe. “The air…it feels thinner.”

  Isaac leaned on the railing. “It does feel thin. My chest has been hurting for the last hundred steps.”

  They looked up the slope and saw the ridge flatten to the summit. The clouds that once looked so far away now danced and rolled, folding in on themselves and revealing nothing of the world above.

  “Just a little higher,” Lazarus panted.

  Isaac rested his hands on his hips and looked down the mountain. “He’s still coming.”

  “How far is he?” asked Lazarus.

  “He's coming, but not as fast as before. I think the fight took something out of him. What’s at the top?”

  “According to my book our way out.”

  “What another cave or something?”

  “Something like that.”

  The two men stormed up the stairs. They struggled to climb pressing down on their knees with every step. The stairway leveled off and the steps spaced apart allowing the men to sprint between the gaps. Lazarus crested the summit first and found a large narrow clearing one hundred yards ahead of them. In the center of the clearing stood a series of large boulders that formed a circle around a large stake that was pressed into the ground.

  The men slowed as they entered the clearing, the gravel base crunching under their feet. Their eyes were wide looking for any traps that might be set.

  “So, what do we do?” Isaac said struggling to catch his breath.

  “This here is our way out.”

  “The spear?”

  “Yeah, we pull it out and the clouds above will clear. The spear flies true in the direction it’s thrown.”

  Isaac approached the shaft, which was wooden and stained with a fine tar. The grain of the wood spiraled in unnatural patterns and looked like screaming faces melted down to the iron tip pressed deep into the black earth below.

  Isaac’s hand closed around the shaft and the wood turned a bright red. Searing pain flooded his arm. He cried out and pulled away shoving his hand into his shirt and hunting for relief.

  “Are you alright?” Lazarus said.

  “God that hurt,” Isaac said still wincing in pain. He examined his hand; a streak of red was printed across his palm. The thin skin lifted forming a narrow blister. “I can't grab that. What the fuck are we going to do?”

  The gravel began to rumble. Isaac and Lazarus stepped behind a large boulder and peered over the cliff edge. The rumbling stopped and they could see Buer’s brown mane flowing in the light breeze. His large legs crested the edge and stepped firmly into the gravel base of the mountaintop.

  Black and white stained blood painted his mane and bits of flesh clung to the matted tangles under his jaw. One arm hung limp below his chest and dangled like a suspended rope. They could see fractures protruding through the skin. His many hooves moved rhythmically as he glided slowly to the summit center.

  His voice could not hide his anger nor his pain. “Your friends are dead. I can only handle so much betrayal.” He paused gathering himself. It was obvious that any movement was painful. “And your seraphim, well, I can tell you he tastes like…well…how do you say up there? A fine wine? It is not often we see his like down here. We have to treat it like the special occasion it is. And Aamon? Well, he got what he wanted. I do have to hand it to him, he had a thing for Jalon. I could see it in his eyes before I killed him. He looked at peace.”

  Buer moved slowly towards the center.

  “I see you came to my home. Do you like it? I don’t think mortals like yourself have ever seen this place. Consider yourself lucky. Now I know your name Isaac, but your friend? Could I be graced by the presence of a…”

  Before Buer could finish Lazarus stepped forward, “…Necromancer.”

  “This is a day to remember.” There was a chuckle in his voice.

  Isaac whispered, “What are you doing?”

  Buer approached slowly, his body rolling like a smooth pinwheel. Each leg tucked, flipped and dropped to the ground in a demonic rhythm.

  “Well…Necromancer, what is your name?”

  “Does it matter?” Lazarus said confidently.

  “Oh, it is good manners to introduce yourself in someone else's house. Don’t you think?”

  “Lazarus.”

  Buer winced as if he had been stabbed. “That name…”

  “It has been a while for you. Huh?”

  “About two thousand years to be exact.” Buer’s lips spread wide and he bared his teeth. “I don’t forget what your boss did here.”

  “He’s not my boss.”

  “Oh, a rebellious one. You fancy yourself like that fraud? You think you can come in here and take from me and skip out?”

  Lazarus shifted his stance and squared himself to Buer.

  “You think you can handle me?” Buer said as a smile spread across his face. “A seraphim and a necromancer in one day.”

  Lazarus stepped behind a boulder. Buer swung with his free arm striking the rock and sending it crashing down the mountainside. Buer stepped closer and in a flash broke towards Isaac. The foul stench fell out of his tattered face, gassing Isaac. Buer’s razor-sharp claw dug into Isaac’s neck drawing a slow bead of blood. He held his breath, afraid any movement would send the claw deeper into his throat.

  “I will gut your apprentice and you will watch him bleed out on this mountain.”

  “My faith runs deeper than that. I don’t need him,” Lazarus shot back.

  Buer twisted his finger and blood dribbled over Isaac's collar. “I’ve heard this story before.” Buer looked down at Isaac. “You hear that boy, your necromancer doesn’t care about you. Pretty lamb ready to be sacrificed. Can’t say I’m surprised. They are a not a bunch you should trust with your life and unfortunately, you tied yourself to a bad horse. But rest assured you both will die!”

  Lazarus reached into his pocket and wrapped the remaining clump of Buer’s hair around his hand. It felt like a small fire in his palm. He reached back and grabbed the spear, pulling it from the ground in a shower of sparks. Lazarus screamed out as he lunged and threw the spear at Isaac’s face. The tip flexed and soared through the air. Isaac shifted only an inch as it grazed his ear and embedded itself in Buer's face just above the bridge of the nose. Buer's claw and arm fell limp and Isaac tumbled to the ground.

  A thin line of blood poured out of Buer's eyes and dripped down the shaft of the spear. He fell to his knees and his head dipped back as the spear struck the ground. A slow whine of air let out as the full weight of the Demon King pressed down and drove the spear through his skull. Blood, matter, and hair clumped to the shaft leaving a trail of gore along the wood.

  Isaac looked up at Lazarus. “I don’t know if I
should hug you, or throw you off this cliff.”

  Lazarus’s face softened and his shoulders rolled back as if a pressure had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked like a new man. Someone who finished a long marathon and was ready for a nap. The old necromancer walked over and helped Isaac up. “Just one more thing and we can get out of here.”

  “What would that be?”

  “It involves that spear.”

  “It didn't work out for me last time.”

  “I don't think that's a problem anymore.” Lazarus lifted up on the shaft, thin trails of blood dripping off into the growing pool below. He pulled up and freed it from Buer’s skull. A thick plop could be heard as the demon’s skull fell slack onto the ground.

  Lazarus ran his fingers over the shaft and filled his hand with a thick layer of blood. He reached up and marked a cross into Isaac’s forehead.

  “Open your hands.” Lazarus slid his wet palms over Isaac’s and painted them red. “I suddenly realized that the spear only knew Buer. It will fly true now. You just have to focus on the target.”

  He shifted the spear to Isaac. There was more weight to it than he had guessed.

  “Why me?”

  “We need someone of pure heart to open a door to the moral world. I'm a dirtied soul.”

  “What do I do with it?”

  Isaac pointed to the clouds above. The grey-black swirling mass began to part to reveal a solid black dome above. The thin mesh curtain hung like a spider’s web suspended in the air ready to catch any pest that flew by. The mesh slowly pulled back like a fisherman retrieving his empty net from the sea.

  “Throw it into the dome. Think of the church, think of the body, Luke, and James. The spear will provide a path home.”

  “But it’s too far, I won’t make it.”

  “The spear will make it. Just imagine it striking the dome.”

  Isaac shifted the spear to his throwing hand. He closed its eyes and saw the church, he imagined Luke and James sleeping in the pews waiting for something or someone to emerge from the corpse on the floor. Off the back end of the spear, a bright red light grew and a trail of fire slowly fell out onto the ground. Lazarus placed his arm on Isaac's shoulder as the fire rope wound around Isaac and Lazarus’s ankles.

  The wooden shaft flipped and spun in Isaac’s hands. He cradled it nervously on his shoulder. He looked up and saw the smooth ceiling arch over the horizon. The clouds were now pressing back over the island revealing the hidden world above.

  He loaded the shaft in his hands and took two steps forward and heaved it through the air. The shaft flexed as it flew up towards the dome. The trail of fire spooled out. The shaft struck the dome sending black glass-like shards falling down to the mountainside.

  Isaac looked back at Lazarus who was focused on the dome above. His fingers thumbed the locket of Buer’s hair around his neck. There was a peace in his eyes that Isaac had never seen. It was a man who seemed free of any pain and burden, like an old sinner who was born again.

  The crack in the dome widened revealing a white light that shone down like the sun peeking through a rainstorm. The fire trail danced in the air like a loose rope caught in a strong breeze. It folded in on itself and the slack pulled out.

  “Hold on,” Lazarus said. They grabbed the burning line with their blood-soaked hands and lifted into the air towards the opening in the dome. They could feel the rush and acceleration as their world went white.

  Isaac exited first, his face broke the opening in the cadaver’s body and he fell out onto the ground like a newborn foal. He curled up on the ground, the freezing air striking his skin like a shower of needles. The voices were only mumbles as Luke and James helped him to a pew. James rushed away and fetched a warm cup of tea and pressed it to Isaac’s face.

  The voices came up slowly.

  “Isaac, Isaac are you alright? Drink something,” James urged.

  “Oh god, I am so happy to be back,” Isaac let out.

  Luke wrapped a blanket around Isaac. “Is it complete?”

  Isaac looked into Luke’s eyes and he turned to the cadaver. There was no movement, the body was still and Isaac waited for Lazarus to emerge. He expected fingertips to burst through any moment.

  “Isaac, it is resolved?”

  Isaac turned to Luke. “Yes.”

  “Jalon?” Luke pressed.

  “Gone.”

  A shock fell over Luke’s face as he slumped into a pew. He lifted his head. “The demon?”

  “Gone.”

  “And Buer?” Luke pressed.

  Isaac paused and Luke knew the answer.

  “He’s not coming back is he?” asked Isaac.

  A small smile came across his face. “He is in a good place now. Somewhere where he can live quietly and have that life he always wanted.”

  “In Heaven?”

  “No, no. Here on Earth. He will walk free, undetected and live a normal life. As long as he carries it around his neck.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” James asked.

  “Lazarus, he’s not going to be around anymore,” Isaac said sipping the tea.

  Luke stood up and dusted off his robe. “I don’t think that is the last time we’ll see him. He has some catching up to do.”

  “What happens to me? Do I fall into the same fate?” Isaac asked.

  Luke stood. “Isaac, you are not Lazarus. Everything that transpired was part of his world. His fate is not yours. You will differ in that respect. But you need to step back and think how you will move forward. How will you proceed? Will you follow in the path that Jesus walked? Or continue to reject the truth? That's your choice. For my sake and this city's, I want to see you succeed. I want you to become the man you are destined to be. But that requires you to accept it. You have seen the evil in this world and the one below. Don't let Lazarus cloud your view of this profession. This is a noble profession. One that you can find meaning in. It won't be easy, but good things never are.”

  Luke's shoes echoed in the stone room. He walked over to the flayed body. Small pools of liquid collected at the ends of the skin folds. His hands rested on his hips and he turned back to Isaac and James. “We need to clean this up. I have mass in a few hours and you two are going to attend.”

  Tiger Mountain

  East of Seattle

  1979

  Isaac and James sped through the smooth trails, their legs pumping as they moved through the lines of Alders and Pines.

  “Just ahead, keep moving,” Isaac called out behind him.

  “I hear you, I’m moving as fast as I can. You’ve got longer legs that I do!” James spat back.

  Isaac smiled as he began to slowly pull away adding distance between him and James.

  “Oh, I see you have been bagging it this whole time!” James called out.

  Isaac smiled as he rounded the corner and came to an open field. Isaac jumped a small wooden fence and pushed through the waves of reed grass that had grown up through the spring and early summer.

  The mountain cast a heavy shadow in the early afternoon and the field was dark. He jumped a small creek, his feet sucked into the mud on the embankment and pushed up over his ankles. Behind he could hear James struggling through the grass which was nearly head height. Isaac pulled his feet out and shook off the mud.

  He called out, “Creek!”

  James burst through the grass and stumbled into the water and fell into a large tuft of grass. He fell backs and slid into the mud.

  James was panting. “Oh that was a nice warning there.”

  Isaac tipped his head and sprinted out across the field and to a small dirt road. He hurdled the wooden fence and slid across the fine gravel road, stopping feet from the back of his old truck.

  Luke sat in the truck reading a pocket bible. The satin ribbon hung off the edge and gently blew in the summer breeze.

  James fell over the wooden fence and finished in the center of the parking area.

  Luke looked down at his watch. “No
t bad, you guys are getting better.”

  James fought to catch his breath. “I’ve got short legs, I’m not as fast as that guy.”

  “We all have our challenges,” Luke responded. “I think we are done today. Tomorrow we work on salt mixtures and spells. I also want you two to do your reading tonight. I will be checking on that tomorrow.”

  Both men nodded, still struggling to calm their racing hearts.

  “Isaac something came in the mail for you this morning.” He handed a small package wrapped in brown packing paper.

  “Who is it from?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Luke stood up from the truck bed and walked over to his small sedan. He turned back to the men. “Make sure you clean yourself up, you look like bums.”

  James walked around the truck and pulled a small jug of water from the cab and slid down to the gravel to rest.

  Isaac walked over to the edge of the field and leaned against the fence. He rolled the package and the return address was Berlin. He opened the package to reveal a worn leather book. He opened to the first page and a slip of paper fell out.

  It read:

  Isaac, this book helped me. I hope it helps you as you move forward. Luke said that James has joined you and that you two are making good progress. I am happy to hear that. I know how uncertain the world can be, but Luke is a good person and will be more helpful to you than I would have. I know things didn't begin or end the way you thought, but I appreciate that you are willing to continue on. I’ll see you around. -L

  The soft puffy clouds moved over the mountaintop and reflected a mixture of reds and yellows out across the open field. Isaac tapped the note with his hands and thumbed through the pages. It was a bible that contained heavy annotations in the margins. It was Lazarus’s handwriting. He closed the book and slipped it into his pant pocket and walked back to the truck. He rounded the front door and kicked James who was half asleep.

  “Get moving, we need to study tonight.”

  “I don’t get this, we have to do both jobs?”

  “That’s what Luke says, that is what we do.”