by Brea Essex
I shook my vehemently. “Not that I know of. And believe me, if one of them was, I’d know. Trust me when I say it’s completely at odds with either of their personalities.”
“Hmmm… Well, it must have been one of your grandparents, then. Sometimes the abilities skip a generation.”
“I didn’t know any of my grandparents. My dad’s parents died before I was born. My mom avoided her parents. She said her mom was too weird, and she kept my sister and I away from them. I don’t think I ever met them.”
Hecate nodded. “That must be it, then. Your mother’s mother was likely the necromancer in the family. Perhaps your mother knew, or at least suspected. If she didn’t like that fact, it explains why she considered your grandmother ‘weird.’ Often, the children or other family members of necromancers who don’t have abilities consider their relative odd, or are even scared of them. It’s really too bad you weren’t able to spend any time with your grandmother. She likely could have taught you quite a bit. You might not have even had to come to me. By any chance, is she still alive?”
“Uh, I don’t know. My mom hasn’t spoken to her in years. She might be, she might not be.”
“If I were you, I’d look her up when you return home. If she is still alive, she would prove to be an invaluable resource. After all, it’s not as if you can return here to me every time you have a question, or need help with something.”
I nodded, agreeing. “All right. I’ll do that.”
“This is all well and good,” Zac interrupted. “And I really hope that Rhiannon’s grandmother is still alive, but shouldn’t we get to the training now?”
Hecate eyed him with a narrow gaze. “One of the fatal flaws of the Zayin—impatience.”
“Fatal? He’s going to die? As in, actually die, not the state he’s in now?” I asked.
“Oh, no, no. That’s not what I meant. Of course he will die one day. All mortals are fated to pass from this world at one time. I simply meant that the impatience and impetuousness that are inherent in the Zayin race sometimes lead to cockiness. Sometimes they don’t pay as much attention in battle because they are overconfident in their abilities. This can lead to their demise, sadly. Yet, he is correct. We don’t have much time. We really should begin your training. We’ll start with the elements.”
“The elements?”
“Yes. Earth, air, water, fire; though not necessarily in that order. Some include wood and/or metal in their list. I prefer to begin with water. It’s more flexible than some of the others. Come along, Rhiannon.” She glanced at Zac. “You may join us if you wish, or remain here. The choice is yours.”
Zac chose to join us. He wouldn’t get much out of observing my training, as he didn’t have abilities himself. “It’s better than standing around, doing nothing,” he said.
We trudged through the forest for quite some time, heading in the general direction that Zac and I had come in. Hecate led us to a river I hadn’t noticed before, although I was sure we had passed it on our journey. As it had in Olympus, the water entranced me. I watched the slight current bubble along happily, and gazed at the way the bright sunlight played across the reflective surface.
“Water is a conduit,” Hecate explained, interrupting my study of the river.
Reluctantly, I pulled my gaze away and turned to her. “I’m sorry?”
“A conduit,” she repeated. “Water is one of the most powerful forces on earth. I think it’s the strongest of the elements, although most will claim they are balanced. Water erodes and shapes. You can do so much with water. From it, you can get both heat and cold. You could increase the heat to the point where it could flay off someone’s skin. Also, you could plunge the temperature and encase someone in ice—although, I don’t recommend either.
“The elements should be used peacefully. If you make the temperature just right, you could create fog to cloak yourself, or you could separate the heat to make a fire to warm yourself or cook your food. If you’re really talented, you could even harness the light that reflects off the surface of the water. You could form a sphere and use it to light your path—maybe even an entire room. Now, concentrate and try it.”
“Try what?” I asked, feeling overwhelmed about all the information that she had just dumped on me.
“Something. Anything. Try any of the things I just said: heat it, cool it, or attempt to pull the light from the surface. But please try not to set me or anything else on fire.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply you would do it on purpose. The elements can be hard to control at first. They do what they will. It’s almost as though they have minds of their own, but of course, they’re not sentient beings. I only meant to warn you to be cautious.”
“I see.” I tried to focus on the water, not entirely sure about what I was doing. After a few minutes, I asked, “Why isn’t anything happening?”
“What were you trying to do?” Hecate asked.
“Anything, just like you said.”
She shook her head. “You’re going about it wrong. You need to think about what you want to do. Just focusing on it won’t do anything. You have to tell it what you want—almost manipulate it, in a sense. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I told her doubtfully.
“If you’re not confident, it will not work. Don’t doubt your abilities. You were born to do this; trust me. It’s like a muscle: the more you exercise it, the stronger your abilities will become, and the easier it will be to do what you want. Now, I want you to try again, but this time, decide first what you want to do.”
“Um, I guess I’ll try freezing it. That seems easier than heating it.”
She looked satisfied. “Both are equally easy, or hard, depending upon how you look at it. They are equal and opposite reactions. But if that is what you wish to try first, then by all means, go ahead. Just remember to believe in yourself.”
I didn’t acknowledge her words. I concentrated once more. Staring at the surface of the water, I tried to block out all other sounds and sensations. It was difficult to ignore the soft breeze that had picked up. It wove through my hair, lifting strands and sending them dancing around my face. At last, I was able to tune it out, as well as the birds chirping and cawing, calling to each other from the trees. The last thing I heard was Zac’s breathing. It matched mine, inhale for inhale, exhale for exhale. I wasn’t sure how I could hear it at the distance that he was standing from me, but it was comforting. Finally, that too faded away, and all that remained was the cool splashing of the water. I imagined the temperature dropping and dropping, sending it below the freezing point. I thought of ice molecules creeping across the surface, solidifying the liquid into solid. I daydreamed of ice-skating, skiing, and snow cones.
Closing my eyes, I held those images in mind. I exhaled slowly, and the world went silent. Power thrummed through me, causing my entire body to tingle. It was a wonderful, exhilarating sensation. Taking one more slow, deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked to the stream.
It had worked! The entire river had turned to ice. Carefully, as if not to disturb it, I stepped forward. I touched the toes of one foot on the ice gingerly. Solid ice met my probing. I risked placing my entire foot down on the surface. It held. Shifting my weight, I brought the other foot out, standing completely on the ice.
I looked up at Zac and Hecate in triumph. “I did it!” I exclaimed excitedly.
Before I could say anything else, the ice shifted and cracked. I glanced down in horror, and lunged for the shore. I was too late, though: the ice splintered completely, plunging me into the river.
The water closed over my head, but my feet quickly reached the bottom. I planted my feet as securely as I could in the unstable mud, and launched myself to the surface. When I broke through, I sputtered, gasping for air. The slight current had carried me a little way downstream. I pulled myself to the shore with a powerful stroke, and clambered up on the bank. Sprawling out on my back, I stared a
t the sky. A shadow crossed my vision, and Hecate came into view, standing over me.
“Good thing you can swim,” she told me.
Flipping over onto my stomach, I used my arms to push myself to my feet. “Good thing I can swim? Is that all you have to say?”
“No,” she said with a small smile. “You became too confident.”
“But you told me to be confident in myself,” I protested, confused.
“Yes, I did. But I didn’t mean for you to get so confident that you would lose your focus. That is what happened. You were cocky, just like your young Zayin here.” She gestured to Zac, who was leaning against a tree, watching our exchange. He looked concerned, but not overly so. “When you grew too confident in your abilities, the spell splintered apart. There is a fine line, Rhiannon. You must learn that line, otherwise you will fail.”
I sighed heavily. This was not what I had signed up for. The training was turning out to be harder than I thought. The magick had come easily, however, retaining that magick was more difficult than I had imagined. “All right, I get it.”
“Try again,” she ordered.
“Seriously? But I’m soaked. How the hell am I supposed to concentrate when I’m sopping wet?” I shivered as the breeze cut through my thin, wet clothing. “Not to mention freezing!”
“Then dry yourself off,” she answered flippantly.
“What? How?”
“The same way you froze the river. Concentrate. Heat your clothing enough to dry them, but not enough to catch yourself on fire. Fine line, remember?”
I rolled my eyes behind her back as she turned toward the river once more.
“I saw that,” she called.
Wow, she was like a mom. A really, really strict mom. This might not be as fun as I had hoped.
Zac looked at me with worry. “Are you all right?” he mouthed quietly.
I nodded. He relaxed and didn’t say anything more.
Closing my eyes, I tried to steady my breathing. Once it was under control, I started to concentrate on attempting to dry myself off. I was still shivering from the wind, but I had to ignore it.
A heat spread through my body, and expanded outward to my clothes. This time, I wouldn’t allow myself to become distracted. No way did I want to set myself on fire.
After I had succeeded in drying my clothes, I released the energy. Once I sensed that the power had gone from me, I opened my eyes again. I rubbed the sleeve of my shirt between my thumb and two fingers, and it felt dry. Then I passed my hands over the rest of my shirt, and felt along my pants. I looked at Hecate expectantly, trying not to get too excited this time.
“Well done,” she said, a hint of a smile playing across her face. “Now, what would you like to learn next?”
“Anything you have to teach me,” I told her.
Her smile grew wider. White teeth flashed beyond her lips. “Then let’s continue.”
Twelve
“Now concentrate, but not too hard,” Hecate told me. “You don’t want to pull them back into their corpses.”
We were in a small graveyard, and I was making my first attempt in speaking to an actual ghost. Neither of us counted Zac, as he wasn’t truly dead. I was feeling a little terrified. “Are they going to look like they did when they died?” I asked her, my voice low, in case the ghosts were already here and could hear me. “Will they look—normal? Or will they look like corpses, all decayed?”
“It depends upon the personality of the ghost, and also partly whether they realize they are dead or not. The majority of them will be considerate and appear normally, looking just as they did when they were alive. If they died violently, however, or if they just want to try and scare you, they might show up, bearing their wounds. It is best to be prepared either way. Those types of ghosts can feed off fear. If you show them that you are afraid, they will continue to try to make you more afraid. I know it is difficult, but attempt not to show any emotion.”
“That’s easier said than done,” I muttered.
“Yes, but you still must try. Now, let’s attempt to contact someone again.”
I closed my eyes tightly, and tried the summoning once more. This time, I could sense a presence.
“Almost…” Hecate whispered.
I pictured a veil between this world and the world beyond. It shimmered in my mind’s eye, and I tried to imagine someone standing just on the other side. “Come and speak with me,” I murmured.
“Be polite,” Hecate reminded me. “Ghosts prefer polite necromancers.”
“Please come and speak with me,” I corrected.
I felt the presence again, stronger this time.
“Finally,” Hecate breathed.
I opened my eyes, still trying to keep the level of concentration required to maintain the connection to the spiritual realm. A transparent woman stood before me, her form wavering in and out of focus. To my immense relief, she looked completely normal. The only thing that indicated to me that she wasn’t actually alive was the fact that I could see straight through her, to the gravestones and grass beyond where she stood.
“Why did you call me here?” she asked in a quiet, but strong, voice.
I looked to Hecate for help. She nudged me gently in the side. “Speak with her.”
I gave her a pained expression and turned once more to the ghost. “I am sorry for disturbing your rest.”
The ghost smiled. “That is quite all right, young necromancer. Eternity is a long time to go with no one to talk to. Your ‘disturbance’ is actually very welcome.”
“Do you mind if I ask how you died? You look pretty young.”
“Rhiannon,” Hecate said, a note of warning in her voice. “That is an incredibly rude question to ask. Most ghosts don’t like to talk about it, especially if they’re not consciously aware of the fact that they’re dead.”
“It’s all right, goddess,” the ghost said. “I do not mind. I’m quite aware of the fact that I’m no longer in the world of the living, and am more than willing to talk about it. I’ve never been able to tell anyone about it, actually. It may be a relief to talk about it.”
I felt immensely tired from summoning the spirit. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to sit down while she talked. Unfortunately, for me, my proper mother had drilled Aislinn and me on manners, practically since our birth. It would have been disrespectful for me to sit while the spirit stood, especially since I was the one who had called her.
Actually, I thought to myself as I observed the ghost lady, she hovers more than stands. She’s kind of floating above the ground. Still, I wouldn’t try to sit, no matter how exhausted I was. If she sat too, I would be fine, but I didn’t think ghosts could sit down. The phrase “I can rest when I’m dead” floated through my mind, causing me to nearly choke on a laugh. I needed to contain my amusement, though. This was a serious situation. “So,” I said, finally turning my attention back to the ghost I had called. “How did you die?”
“It was irresponsible, really,” she informed me. “I should have taken better care of myself. A heart attack took me from my family when I was so young—and so were they. I abandoned my children.”
“I’m sure they understand that you never meant to leave them,” I reassured her.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. My death was so sudden; none of us had a chance to make peace with it. I was never able to say goodbye. My family wasn’t home when I passed,” she said quietly.
“I’m so sorry.” The platitude sounded hollow to me. “Do you know if they’re still alive?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no. I died quite some time ago. They’re all gone now—every last one of them. I had three children and seven grandchildren. I never met my grandchildren, unfortunately. My children were still fairly young when I died. I’m a great-grandmother several times over, now. But I’m not even sure how many generations have passed.”
She paused, lowering her head. Her hair was twisted up into a neat bun on top of her head, but several strands had wor
ked their way out and now hung in her face. “You know, I visited them after I was gone,” she continued. “They never knew, of course. I couldn’t find anyone who could do what you can do. No one heard my calls.” She looked back up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time since she had appeared. “It feels so good to get all of that off my chest. I’ve never told anyone that before. There was no one to tell.”
“Thank you for sharing with me.”
“Oh, of course. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to return. I’ve spent far too long wandering this world, when I should have been focusing on the next.”
“I’m sorry. Go right ahead.”
“Good luck, my dear. With whatever you’re doing.” At that, she began to shimmer. Her form wavered and faded until she disappeared from view.
After she had vanished, I collapsed to my knees on the ground, completely spent. I looked up at Hecate. “Does it ever get easier?”
“The exhaustion from the summoning, or the emotional toll from hearing their tragic stories?”
“Both.”
“The tiredness does improve with time and practice. The emotional toll, however, does not. To not be affected by the tales the ghosts will tell you—you would have to have a heart of stone. But if you did, you wouldn’t be able to do what you do. To be a necromancer, you must have empathy. Ghosts don’t want to speak with people who don’t care—they dealt with that enough when they were alive. The world we live in is a cold, callous place. They don’t want to exist in their afterlife in such a way. They would never answer the summons of a necromancer who didn’t truly care about them. Thus, a necromancer without empathy would be no necromancer at all. He or she would never be able to summon a ghost, and all their efforts would be futile.”
I thought about the implications of that for a moment. “So, what you’re saying is that I need to keep my focus on what I’m trying to do? That I should be more concerned for the ghosts than for myself?”
“Not necessarily more concerned for them than for yourself. You’re correct about the focus, though. You need to think of them as people still, even though they’re no longer alive. Some of them have very real problems. They might need your help, and there also might come a time when you will need their help. Just remember to not become so caught up in helping the ghosts that you lose sight of what you need to do for the living, particularly yourself.”