The Invoker: A Lawson Vampire Novel 2 (The Lawson Vampire Series)

by Jon F. Merz

  But it vanished quickly. Jack’s whole body began to vibrate and the blue glow intensified. At once, his whole body blurred and a column of blue flame shot out, engulfing Arvella.

  She screamed.

  My god, how she screamed.

  The blue flames danced over her skin, melting it down to sheer white bone that then charred quickly in the hot flames as they devoured her. Her cries faded to sobbing moans while the room filled with the stench of crisping flesh.

  At last her cries faded. As they did, so did the blue flames. Then there was a sudden rush of more blue energy, an explosion on the stage where she’d been standing – and then when the smoke cleared at last…

  Arvella was gone.

  Jack’s head slumped low on his chest. The chamber fell silent and the room instantly began to cool as the spirit energy finally waned.

  Again, I made my way toward him, but this time there was nothing keeping me back.

  He looked up as I crested the stairs. I walked toward him, wincing from the pain, and finally dropped to one knee.

  "You okay?"

  He almost grinned. "Yeah." Briefly, his face clouded. "I know what happened, Lawson. I know you were lied to."

  I said nothing.

  "My father…he came back. He explained it to me."

  I nodded. The blue energy must have been Henry Watterson back for his revenge. "Yeah."

  "I don’t blame you, Lawson. My father told me. He told me you’d honor your word. That you’d protect me."

  "I always will, Jack. I promise."

  He glanced over his shoulder. A single singed slice of black char marked the ground where Arvella stood only a minute earlier. "She’s gone now. She finally got what she wanted after all. Just not how she figured it."

  I held my side. Broken ribs are a real bitch. "Most people never figure that their deepest wish can turn out to be something so unexpected."

  A single tear found its way out of Jack’s right eye and meandered down his cheek. "Lawson?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Did my dad…did he suffer?"

  I swallowed, feeling the knot in my throat grow a bit bigger. "No. He died honorably. His only concern was always for the safety of his son. For you, Jack.."

  He nodded. "I’m…glad."

  I put an arm around him. "You ready to go home now?"

  "Yeah."

  We walked to the edge of the stage and found Wirek coming back to consciousness. His arm looked broken, judging by the odd angle it hung at. "This is gonna hurt like hell tomorrow morning." He glanced around. "Where’s Tiny?"

  I whirled, looking for him. No one moved among the dead bodies.

  "Tiny!"

  And then Jack pointed to a feebly raised hand. "There!"

  We hustled over.

  As we drew closer, I could see the unfortunate truth.

  Tiny was dying.

  Blood streamed out of the poor guy, his kukri lay by his side.

  Tiny looked up at us slowly and coughed once. "Damned…wooden knife. Cut me just below my armpit. I got some of the…splinters…not many…but…enough."

  Wirek checked him over but the glance he shot me confirmed what I suspected. In addition to the wood killing him slowly, he’d suffered a cut across his neck.

  I laid a hand on his shoulder. "You fought honorably, Tiny. We can’t begin to thank you enough for everything."

  He coughed again. "You can thank me…by making sure I get home. Bury me in the mountains…where my home is…"

  Wirek bowed his head.

  Jack stooped by Tiny and hugged him. "Thank you, sir. You saved my life."

  Tiny grabbed Jack’s hand and held it for a long moment, searching his eyes in silence. Then, his grip faded and his hand slumped back to his lap. He coughed once more and muttered, "Lawson."

  I leaned closer. "I’m here."

  His words were a tiny whisper. "Thank you."

  "For what?"

  He coughed. Pink frothy bubbles popped on his lips. "…for letting…me…live…again…"

  Then he sighed once more -

  and died.

  We all stayed with him in that now cold desolate chamber for a long time. Drips of water echoed as they hit the blood puddles covering the stone floor.

  None of us wanted to say good-bye.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  In the aftermath of the battle, we nearly slumped over from exhaustion. Sweat ran down every bit of my body and I felt like I’d just gone another twelve rounds against Jack Dempsey.

  It was Wirek who brought Petrov up.

  "He’s vanished, Lawson."

  In the confusion of battling Arvella and her spirits, Petrov had disappeared. I don’t like loose ends. Petrov was a big one.

  "You think he’s still around?"

  Wirek shook his head. "He’s outnumbered now. He’s no fool. Between you and Jack’s now apparent invocation skills, he’d be a fool to try anything."

  "What about later?"

  He shrugged. "If he’s smart, he’s gone to ground. Probably crawled back under whatever rock he crawled out from. He’s safer there."

  "I hope you’re right."

  "I wouldn’t worry about it."

  By the time we finally left the school and began the hard task of carrying Tiny’s body down the mountain, my arms felt like lead weights.

  At the valley floor, Siben met us with a band of his monks who fanned out as we came down, as if they expected trouble.

  Siben looked first at Tiny. "I would not have expected this one to die. He must have fought well."

  "He did."

  "We can take him from you if you wish."

  I shook my head. "That’s okay."

  "You’re injured."

  The pain must have been etched on my face. Truth was, I hurt like hell. "I made him a promise up there on the mountain. I’ve got to see it through."

  Siben smiled a little. "You are a man of many promises, aren’t you, Lawson?"

  "Sure seems so lately." I sighed. "It’s not intentional."

  "True honor never is," said Siben. He turned his attention to Jack. "I see you achieved your goal, nevertheless."

  I nudged Jack forward. "This is Jack."

  Siben bowed. "I am honored to meet you, young sir."

  Jack grinned. "Hi."

  Siben looked at Wirek. "He has much power about him, this one."

  "More than you can know," said Wirek. "Almost got him killed, too. He needs training to learn how to control it."

  "I take it you have a place for such training?"

  Wirek nodded. "A school not entirely unlike the one we just left. But better. And run by someone who will not fill his heart with evil."

  Siben’s eyes twinkled in the predawn gray. "I think that evil will never have a home in this one. There is too much good within his soul."

  I smiled. Thank god someone still represented the goodness in the world. I’d seen so much evil sometimes it made me wonder who the hell was left that believed in the light. And if that was Jack alone, it was enough for me.

  Siben touched my arm. "The woman…the evil one…she is dead?"

  "Consumed by her own desire for power," I said. "But there was another with her. A second-in-command, so to speak."

  "Yes?"

  I frowned. "He escaped."

  Siben nodded. "No one has come down the mountain since you went up. Perhaps he is still up there. Are you sure he did not take refuge within the mountain?"

  "We searched. We didn’t find him. Wirek believes he’s running. Trying to get away from here as fast as he can. He knows we’ll hunt him down. He’s got to be punished for his crimes."

  "It is possible," said Siben, "that he has been punished already."

  "What are you saying?"

  "Just that his failure to achieve what he sought may be punishment enough. Sometimes the universe works in mysterious way where justice is concerned."

  I glanced at the litter where Tiny’s body lay. In the moonlight, he looked peacefu
l. "That might work for your monastery." I looked back at Siben. "It doesn’t work for me. We lost a good man…a friend up there. Petrov is responsible for his death. He’s got to pay."

  Siben nodded slowly. "You carry a lot of weight on your shoulders, Lawson."

  I took a deep breath of the cool pre-dawn air. "I don’t have any other choice."

  *** *** ***

  We made better time heading back to Jomsom thanks to a wagon and horses Siben provided for us. We found our way back to Tiny’s bar and asked around, finally finding out where he lived.

  His home lay two miles further east, shrouded by the mountainside and green mosses that covered the slopes before trailing away into rich green fields.

  Bright sunlight spilled over Tiny’s mud brick house with its thatched roof and tufts of grass poking out of the sides. A few chickens scattered, clucking and flapping their wings as we rode up.

  We dismounted and walked to the door.

  It opened as we came up to it.

  I found myself staring into the face of an old woman who looked truly ancient. Her eyes were moist but she smiled through her evident sadness.

  Wirek spoke to her softly in Nepali, explaining how Tiny had died valiantly. She nodded and said something back to him that caused his eyebrows to jump up a bit.

  I looked at him. "What is it?"

  "She knew he was dead. Said he came to her in a dream. Explained the whole thing. She’s been waiting here for us to show up."

  I didn’t have much to say. Truth was, I didn’t feel like it.

  "She’s got a burial site behind the house ready." Wirek sighed. "Let’s do this properly."

  We carried Tiny’s body behind the house. His mother laid out a plain white sheet of soft cotton. We folded his arms across his chest and prepared to wrap him when I remembered something.

  "Hang on a minute."

  I ran back to the horse and fished out Tiny’s kukri. The dark blood stains on the blade had crusted over during our journey back. I considered washing it first, but thought better of it. The blood was evidence of his heroism.

  I gripped the handle tightly, feeling his strength one last time before heading back around the back of the house.

  Wirek nodded when he saw the kukri. "Proper."

  I placed the bloody blade in Tiny’s right hand, the same way he’d carried it when he’d been alive. Finally, we wrapped him in the sheet and set him down in the grave.

  Tiny’s mother scooped up handfuls of dirt and tossed them onto her son. Fresh tears streamed down her face but she smiled at us again and spoke to Wirek who then turned to me.

  "She says we have honored her son’s final request. She’s very thankful."

  "Tell her we are forever in his debt. We never would have made it if it hadn’t been for his help."

  Wirek spoke to her again and she smiled weakly, speaking again.

  "She says if he died in battle, he died happy and that’s all she could ever ask for."

  We took turns scooping more dirt into the grave, filling it quicker than I expected. Finally, dirty and sweat-stained, we finished.

  Tiny’s mother placed a single rose on top of the grave.

  Where she’d found a rose I didn’t know, but it made the pile of dirt look a lot more respectful.

  Wirek bowed his head and was silent for a while.

  I did the same.

  I’m not always sure who it is I pray to. I’m a pretty spiritual guy, but organized religion doesn’t have a home with me. I know of thousands of deities, all of whom I pay respect to. Mostly, it comes out in the form of gratitude for getting through scrapes in one piece.

  This time I simply prayed for Tiny to enjoy his afterlife.

  Jack stood close to me. We waited for Tiny’s mother to pray for a few minutes. She finished, wiped her tears and then stood up.

  She ushered us inside for a long meal where she told us stories about Tiny’s exploits while in the army.

  I guess it was her way of working through the pain. She didn’t have any other children. Over blood bread and yak meat, she told Wirek that the greatest shame in life is for a parent to outlive their kids.

  I happened to agree.

  We stayed with her that night while cool breezes caressed the tiny house on the mountainside. A couple of times I thought I sensed a presence there with us. Jack only nodded when I asked him if Tiny was looking out for his mother.

  We set out the next morning back to Jomsom and the rinkydink airport for the flight back to Kathmandu. We left the wagon and horses with Tiny’s mother. A bunch of Siben’s warrior monks would swing by over the next week to pick them up.

  Tiny’s mother waved at us as we headed back down the mountain toward Jomsom. We watched her wave until her house, and Tiny’s final resting place, slid out of sight.

  Jack tugged on my arm.

  I looked at him. "Yeah?"

  "That man….Tiny…did he know about me?"

  "He knew you were in trouble."

  "And he came to help…just because of that?"

  "Yes." I watched his face shrivel up in concentration for a moment. I stopped walking and looked at him. "One of the most important things you can do in your life is be of service to someone else. There are very few in our world who act without regard for themselves, without hope of any reward. True virtue, courage and honor come from helping others. That’s what Tiny did for you."

  "It’s what you did for me, too, Lawson."

  I sighed. "Maybe." I knelt down on the damp grass. "I wish I could bring your father back for you, Jack. I wish more than anything I could." I looked away. "But I can’t."

  "I know it."

  Neither of us said anything for a minute and finally I stood back up. "We’d better catch up to Wirek. I don’t think he’s noticed that we’ve stopped walking yet."

  Jack grinned. "Think he’d keep walking if we didn’t say anything?"

  I smiled. "Definitely. He’d probably keep walking straight to Kathmandu."

  "He looks pretty tired," said Jack. "We’d better stop him."

  "Yeah."

  We ran after Wirek, skidding down the loose gravel trail toward him. He turned around as we came up.

  "You guys ready to go home?"

  Jack nodded. "Yeah."

  Wirek smiled. "I don’t know about you but if I don’t get a real decent hamburger soon, I’m gonna go out of my mind."

  "What’s the matter, Wirek – don’t you like yak meat?"

  Wirek sighed. "You know, Lawson, sometimes you aren’t nearly as funny as you think you are."

  I clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, but it sure is fun trying to be."

  Jack ran ahead, sun beams bouncing off of him in the green meadows. And for the first time since I’d met him, he actually looked happy again.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  We caught the same bumpy-butt twin prop Otterman plane out of Jomsom and then settled in for the twenty-four hour blisteringly boring trip back to the states. Still, after living for the last week in the rough, there was some obvious comfort about catching up on sleep in the cramped confines of a jumbo jet.

  But only just.

  Jack’s spirits continued to rise.

  He was much more talkative, asked more about my work, Wirek’s background and past, and then questions about his own future.

  "You need schooling," said Wirek when the showing of the latest teen comedy finished on the overhead screen. "To properly develop your skills."

  "But I’m already in school," said Jack. "In Boston."

  Wirek nodded. "True enough, but that school won’t help you understand the full aspects of what you can do. You need depth of training. Despite what Arvella claimed, there are not many like you at all."

  "Did she ever tell the truth?" asked Jack with a grin.

  I smiled. "She didn’t lie when she told you how important you were. She made that clear by dragging you across the globe to some remote stretch of earth. That should be proof enough, huh?"

  "
I guess." He looked at Wirek. "What would I learn at the school?"

  "The usual things we all learn. You’ll get a standard education. But you’d also get special training on things you can do. Stuff you can use your skill for. You’ve got the potential to be a great help to others in our society. It’s not something you can just sort of let happen on its own. Not now. You’re growing into a young man and need to meet others of your kind."

  "Of my kind? But I thought you said there weren’t many more like me."

  "There aren’t," said Wirek. "But there are some. And more than enough to fill a small school full of new friends waiting to meet a cool fellah like yourself." Wirek grinned. "After all, you’ve just returned from a fairly amazing adventure."

  Jack nodded. "Where’s the school? In Boston?" He sounded hopeful.

  Wirek looked away. "It’s not in Boston."

  Jack looked at me suddenly worried. "Not in Boston?" He looked at Wirek. "Where is it?"

  "In the mountains of Canada. The Canadian Rockies. It’s got to be remote, obviously, so humans won’t find out about it. But it’s still a lot closer than Nepal."

  "But-" Jack sighed. "I was looking forward to going home again. I’ve got stuff to do. My friends…"

  I patted his shoulder. "Listen slick, going to school is the best place for you right now. I know it doesn’t seem like that at all. Probably the last thing you want to do is go off and have to make new friends. But it’s for the best. And it’s also not really our decision to make. The Council will decide what’s best now that your folks have both passed on."

  He nodded, but looked close to tears again.

  "For what it’s worth," I continued. "You’re welcome to visit me any time you want. Holidays, vacations, even a quick weekend here and there. Any time you need to get away from the grind or just want to hang out, you give me a call, okay?"

  "You really mean that?"

  I grinned. "You bet. I can use a good friend in my life, believe me. After all," I pointed at Wirek. "this dude’s getting too old to stay up very late."

  Jack giggled. Wirek frowned at me. "You’re an ungrateful…" He caught himself. "..jerk."

  I laughed. "That is probably true."

  "It’s definitely true," said Wirek with a grumble. He looked at Jack. "You can hang out with me, too, if you want."