Hold Me Closer, Necromancer

by Lish McBride

  While I did my best to go back to my kindergarten days and produce a decent circle, Douglas lectured.

  “There are many levels of necromancy, ranging from weak to strong. At the weak end, the end you are probably at, you are more of an antenna. You draw whatever spirit or ghost is around toward you, but you have no real control. The next level up has that as well as the ability to broadcast. Essentially, you can communicate with various smaller entities as well as summon. After that, things become interesting.”

  He reached into a box and threw a rag at me. “Not big enough,” he said. “Do it again.”

  I wiped away most of the circle and started over. Brid came to the edge of the cage to watch.

  “A necromancer with sufficient power and proper training can act as an ambassador between this world and the next. He can summon larger creatures, read living human souls, and potentially influence them. He can raise the dead.” Douglas examined my circle and nodded grudgingly. “Passable.”

  “You mean like that panda?” I stood up and stretched. I stepped outside my circle and examined it. Not bad. My kindergarten teacher would have been so proud.

  “Yes,” he said, “like the panda. However, depending on your needs, you can bring it to varying stages of reanimation.”

  “Like the difference between the zombies in the Thriller video and the ones in Resident Evil?”

  Douglas considered this. “Yes and no. The Thriller example isn’t bad, given your limited realm of experience, but the other end of the spectrum is much more lifelike. Ling Tsu looked like the rest of the pandas, did he not?”

  “I guess.”

  “What are the differences, then, between Ling Tsu and the creatures in Resident Evil?”

  “He didn’t look like he was covered in barbecue sauce?” Douglas casually backhanded me. He hadn’t even looked in my direction. The effect on my bruised face was phenomenal. I cradled my jaw with one hand and tried again. “Differences, right. Well, he wasn’t trying to escape the enclosure and eat everyone; I guess that is a difference. And I didn’t see any hanging flesh or blood. You know, evidence of his un dead state. Of course, that might have to do with the way he died.”

  Douglas nodded as if he hadn’t reached out and backhanded me a second ago. “Better. Yes. Although Ling Tsu has the ability to function and make decisions on his own, I control his primary will. That is one of the main skills you need to cultivate as a necromancer. Each time you raise or summon something, you are betting that your will is stronger than its own. If yours isn’t, at best it will go back from whence it came; at worst, it will tear you into bite-sized pieces. Depending on the creature, naturally.”

  He took a small case out of the box and opened it slowly. “Incidentally, even if Ling Tsu had suffered from external wounds, I could have smoothed them out.” He pulled what appeared to be a small silver dagger out of the case. “That’s what one is able to do with both talent and education.” He put a small stress on the last word, somehow making it threatening.

  It was everything I could do to not take a few steps back. I wondered if I could run past Douglas, dodge his knife, and make it to the top of the stairs. But that would leave Brid in a cage she couldn’t get out of. Plus, Douglas wasn’t stupid. Something would be at the top of the stairs to greet me, even if I could get that far. The situation was definitely not in my favor.

  Douglas swept his arm out, slicing the air with the knife. “Another basic skill is the protective circle.” He gestured toward the floor with the blade. “You can draw it out of anything: chalk, salt, blood. In the dirt, if need be. The choice depends on what you are summoning, the materials at hand, and the urgency of the situation.” He looked at me. “Bottom line is, the stronger the circle, the better. Especially if you are trying to raise one of those nasty things that might eat you, like I mentioned earlier.”

  “Bite-sized pieces?”

  “Exactly. The circle can be modified for the practitioner to include important symbols or what have you. A simple one like this is fine, as long as you activate it correctly.” He made a small slice in his arm and stepped into the circle. The blood dropped, hitting the concrete. The air rippled out until it hit the edges of the chalk, and then the circle lit up in a blue flash. Douglas pulled a piece of gauze out of his pocket and tied it around the cut in his arm without setting down the dagger. He’d had some practice.

  “Does it always flash like that?” This time I did take a small step back.

  “Yes, though this circle was a trifle enthusiastic. A lot of old blood can do that sometimes. That’s why most practitioners have a permanent circle. Enough power in one place can leave a memory.” He straightened his shoulders. “Now that I’m in the circle, and it’s been invoked with blood and my will, I’m protected.” Douglas closed his eyes, mumbling softly to himself.

  The temperature in the room dropped some more, and I had to wrap my arms around myself. I couldn’t help but wonder, if he was protected inside the circle, shouldn’t I be in it, too? Would it actually be safer to be closer to Douglas? I moved toward it, but Douglas waved me off without even opening his eyes. I frowned. My understanding had been that the inside of the circle was good and the outside bad. I kept thinking of the phrase “bite-sized” and hoping that Douglas was summoning something that wouldn’t want to eat my face.

  Douglas stopped mumbling, and his eyes snapped back open. They had become a solid icy blue. He looked creepy as hell. He shouted a final word. I tried to hear what it was, but I couldn’t make it out.

  Ghostly forms began to crawl out of the floor and float through the walls. I could see faces, clothes. People of various ages, various shapes. The single unifier seemed to be a violent death. Their throats were slashed, or they were sliced open like gutted fish. Some of them had what appeared to be burn marks; others had cuts all over their bodies. Most of the wounds could have been made with Douglas’s knife.

  I counted ten people in all. And they were headed my way, all of them moving to avoid the circle. I couldn’t tell if they were afraid of it or of Douglas. I backed up until I smacked into the cage and couldn’t go any farther. Douglas watched, eyes still that eerie blue, his face otherwise expressionless. He made no move to help me. I felt a small hand touch mine. I grabbed on to Brid’s hand without looking back at her. It made me feel a little bit better.

  The spirits converged, then crowded onto me in one solid mass. Some people say that ghosts aren’t real, that they can’t hurt you. Those people are wrong.

  The spirits poured into me, hands grabbing, slicing, hurting. The pain drove me screaming to my knees. I dropped Brid’s hand on the way down. I shut my eyes and tried to curl up into a ball. I don’t know how long I screamed or huddled there on the floor. All I know is that when Douglas finally called them off and the pain stopped, I couldn’t get up. I could only lie there, gasping, my face wet with sweat and tears, my whole body a constant tremor. I watched helplessly as Douglas walked through the circle, breaking it. He took his time getting over to me. His black dress shoes held a beatific shine, even after all he’d just done. I could see a small spot of blood on them.

  “You have blood on your shoe,” I said through chattering teeth.

  Douglas absently wiped his shoe on my jeans. He leaned down so I could see his face. His eyes were back to a chilly brown. “I think you’ve learned enough for tonight.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  He straightened. “Get up.”

  At that moment, I would have loved nothing more than to stay curled up on that floor forever. Instead, I pulled myself up slowly and got back into the cage. Odd how earlier all I wanted was to get out of that cage, and now I couldn’t wait to climb back in. Any Douglas-free place looked good to me. I crawled to the other side of it and collapsed. Brid came over and put my head in her lap.

  Douglas left without a word.

  “Why didn’t they come after me?” she asked. She sounded mildly curious, but the tightness in her muscles told me she was ang
ry.

  “Because it was my lesson,” I said with a chatter. “He had complete control, and he sent them after me.”

  Brid ran a hand absently through my hair. “No,” she said, “the lesson was for both of us. And I think we learned it well.”

  “My mom will be so happy to see my report card.”

  Brid laughed softly, relaxing, and I felt better. If we could both laugh at it, then maybe we’d be okay after all.

  “Maybe June will send me that help soon.”

  Brid slid another hand through my hair. “June?”

  “She’s another dead-wrangler.”

  “I think we have enough of those, don’t you?”

  A minute later, a big guy brought down a blanket. I couldn’t see who it was, but I felt Brid stiffen at the sight of him. When he left, Brid tucked the blanket in around me and curled against my back, protective. I stayed in a ball. The blanket smelled of lavender, something I wouldn’t have expected of Douglas’s linens. I didn’t find it particularly relaxing. It made me homesick. My mom used lavender laundry detergent. Was she okay? Was she worried? Did my family even know I’d been taken? My need to be rescued was outweighed by my desire to keep them safe, though. If they came after me, they might get hurt. I wanted out of here, but not at the expense of my loved ones.

  Brid shifted, moving the blanket up right under my eyes. She slipped an arm around me. Then, over the lavender smell, I could smell the outdoors—sun on the earth, wind through the trees, green things growing, the smell of life. Brid. I relaxed and let sleep take me.

  20

  C’mon, Baby, Don’t Fear the Reaper

  We were woken up a few hours later. A big lug of a guy escorted us up to a bathroom. My whole body ached, I was groggy, and it hurt my eyes when I stumbled into the light. It took me a minute to register that the brightness was because we were in sunlight. Morning, then.

  We were led down several hallways, and cut through the kitchen on the way to the bathroom. The kitchen was bright, airy, and extremely spartan, much like the rest of the rooms I walked by. Douglas, apparently, didn’t care for clutter. The cheeriness of the kitchen surprised me, though. Bright yellow walls and white curtains. Strange.

  The guy let Brid go first. I leaned against a wall and stared out the window while I waited. Apparently, Douglas didn’t carry the spartan look over into his landscaping. Statues dotted the lawn, a random assortment representing different bits of Greek mythology. I looked over at the hedges and smiled. Douglas had lawn gnomes. I didn’t figure him for that kind of guy. I frowned. One of the lawn gnomes was flipping me off. I closed my eyes and opened them again. The gnome stood normally, holding a tiny shovel over his shoulder, no middle finger in sight. Maybe they were drugging me when I wasn’t looking.

  I glanced over at the guy watching me. He looked familiar. After a full minute of peeking, I realized I’d seen him before. Tuesday night, he’d wiped the floor with me. “Oh, goody,” I said. “It’s you.”

  The guy actually grinned at me, baring a lot of very large, very white teeth. “How’s the back?”

  “Fantastic,” I said. “Much better than the rest of me.”

  His grin faltered. The guy looked surprised. He shouldn’t have been. Sure, he could kill me, but it would be fast: a quick snap of the neck, a blow to the head. Douglas would kill me slowly, one excruciating slice at a time. If this guy hadn’t picked that up by now, he had a head full of sawdust. He needed a reminder, if only on the chance that it might drive a wedge between Douglas and his lackey.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not the king of the wild things around here.”

  He came at me then, only to halt in his tracks when a cat sauntered into the hallway. The cat was mostly white, with big black spots on his head, chest, and tail. He had huge silver eyes that he trained on the man. The cat parked itself in the middle of the hall, tail flicking. The man relaxed and resumed his original position, leaning on the wall across from me. Weird.

  I slid down the wall and reached out to pet the feline. Both the cat and the man seemed startled by this. When the cat didn’t bolt, I scratched his ears. He took it with quiet dignity, like a king letting his subject kiss his hand. Cats always look like that to me. After everything else, I expected something strange. I’m not sure what: a man-eating cat, a cat that shoots lava from its eyes, something. It was nice to encounter something normal. I scratched under his chin.

  After Brid came out, I took my turn in the bathroom. Surprisingly, the guy let Brid come in after a few minutes to help me wash up. She ran a small washcloth under warm water before using it to wipe all the dried blood off me from yesterday’s new cuts. “You’re starting to look a bit battered,” she said.

  I looked past her into the mirror. The bruises on my face had yellowed, and the scabs on my scratches were coming off. I had a few small fresh cuts on my forehead, arms, and chest. I couldn’t see my back, but I’m sure it was yellow and scabby too. The man let Brid put a little Neosporin she found in the medicine cabinet onto the claw marks and some of the bigger scratches. I guess they were happy to kick the crap out of me, but they were worried I’d get infected.

  After that, we were escorted back into the cage. The big guy brought me a paper plate with a few slices of cheese, some brown bread, and a chunk of ham. Brid got a hot bowl of what looked like stew. It was a pretty big bowl. We each got a plastic cup filled with water. Glass, apparently, was too dangerous.

  After he left, I started to eat, putting the cheese on the bread and ignoring the ham. “I’m kind of surprised they aren’t starving us.”

  Brid swallowed a large spoonful of the stew. I don’t think she even chewed.

  “They want you healthy enough to endure Douglas’s lessons, or to at least not die until he wants you to. And I guess they don’t want me to eat you.”

  I looked at her. “I’m kidding,” she said. “Well, kind of. I don’t normally eat people.”

  I ate slowly, watching Brid devour her stew. “Not that I want your food, but what gives?” My plate was tiny compared with what they gave Brid.

  “Faster metabolism,” she said. “I need more food and much higher levels of protein. Besides, it’s easier to hide drugs in stew.”

  I paused midchew. “You know they’re drugging you, and you’re still going to eat it?”

  Brid shrugged. “They aren’t trying to kill me. It’s a sedative. Keeps me docile. And I don’t have much of a choice. If I don’t eat, I grow weak and then I die. I’d rather be drugged and strong.”

  I tossed my ham onto her stew. “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t eat meat,” I said.

  She snatched the ham and gobbled it up in three bites. The girl was a machine. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “They locked me in here with a vegetarian.”

  “I know,” I said, finishing off my cheese. “A lamb among wolves.”

  Brid snorted and kept eating.

  After a while, the big guy came and took our plates, surprisingly without incident. I waited until he left to talk.

  “What’s the deal with Happy, there?”

  “Happy’s name is Michael Jacobs,” she said.

  “And I take it Mr. Jacobs has nothing to do with your pack.”

  “He is dead to us.” Her tone was flat. No love lost there.

  “Charming,” I said. “And what, exactly, does that mean?”

  “It means that he is rogue. We no longer acknowledge him as one of our own. If he needs help or protection, we don’t give it. If he asks to join another pack, we don’t recommend him. In our eyes, he is dead.”

  “His choice or yours?”

  “Both.”

  “He was the one who did my back.”

  She grunted. “Figures.” Brid glanced up at the top of the stairs. “Remember the coup I told you about?” I nodded.

  “Michael was in on it.” She looked like she might say something else, but then she decided against it.

&nb
sp; Brid didn’t seem too keen on talking about it, so I let it be. I still felt tired, so I grabbed the blanket and leaned against the bars to rest. After a few minutes, I felt the blanket lift and Brid slide in next to me. Without opening my eyes, I held my arm up so she could get comfortable, and then crooked it around her shoulders. She felt hot against my side. It was nice, like having a heater under the blanket with me. For the first time since I got there, I actually felt warm. I hadn’t slept next to a girl in a while. I’d missed it. But as good as it felt, I didn’t push it. I wouldn’t, however tempting it was, take advantage of my situation. After we got out, if we got out, she’d better at least give me her number.

  Some time after another bathroom break and what might have been lunch, my lessons continued. If yesterday had taught me anything, it was to keep the lip to a minimum and to pay attention. Oh, and if he made me draw a circle, to get into it as soon as possible.

  Douglas let me in the circle, but I think that was only because he wasn’t summoning anything. At least, I didn’t think he was going to. But the knife never left his grip, and he made me draw the circle, of course. Several times. Then I spent the next hour learning how to close a circle.

  The blood part was easy. Douglas cut my arm. I bled. Easy. The will part, well, I had will in spades. But the rest of it? Not so good. I couldn’t get my power to cooperate. I assumed this was because of the bindings. I didn’t tell Douglas that. If he couldn’t figure it out, I wasn’t going to enlighten him. The downside was that he thought I was being stubborn. After a couple more stinging slaps to the mouth, I got my power chugging enough to close the circle. I’d never consciously used my gift before. It felt like that first big breath after being underwater for a long time. When I shut my eyes, I could see the circle in my head. If I stretched out my fingers, I thought I would have been able to touch it. Elation surged through me at my success.

  Douglas was less impressed. As soon as he decreed it good enough, he made me release it. After that, I went back to the spectator role. As long as I got to stay in the freaking circle, I didn’t care.