Nothing But Necromancy (Macrow Necromancers Book 1)

by J A Campbell

  Joy offered a final smile and moved along. She was a good person, one of the first friends they’d both made, and Elise was grateful for her kindness.

  Gulping, Elise glanced at the clock. “Maybe we should get going.”

  “We have an hour.” Harmony crunched on a piece of bacon.

  “We don’t want to be late.” Elise desperately gulped her cooled tea, hoping it would calm her stomach.

  “Elise, everything will be okay.”

  “But we haven’t been able to study.” She downed the last of her tea and clenched her hands together.

  “I don’t think this is the kind of test you can study for.” Harmony considered, then decided. “Come on, let’s go. Maybe they’ll take us early.”

  Harmony took both trays, and returned quickly. Elise got to her feet and thumped outside after her roommate.

  The walk across the lawn seemed to take forever, especially on her crutches. She went as fast as she could, but they seemed extra cumbersome today.

  Finally, they reached the admin building where the test would take place. The same unassuming red brick building that they’d gone to for orientation held the test that would determine their futures. Elise’s stomach heaved. She wavered on her feet, but managed to keep her breakfast down. She could do this.

  “You okay?” Harmony paused at the door.

  “Nervous.” Elise swallowed and nodded before smiling broadly.

  “Relax, it’ll be just fine. It’s not like they can kick us out or anything.”

  Taking a deep breath, Elise tried to calm herself. Harmony was right. They wouldn’t be forced to leave the school regardless of the results.

  Harmony held the door to the air-conditioned office open and they went inside.

  Professor Harkenrider stepped out of a nearby office as soon as the door shut, as if expecting them.

  “Aah, Harmony, hello. Elise, good to see you. I thought the two of you would be early. Most students are. As it happens, we’re prepared for you. Please, follow me.”

  Professor Richards joined them. She was Elise’s magical theory professor and a stern, distinguished older woman with a tight silver bun. Professor Richards intimidated Elise a bit though she tried not to show it.

  “Elise, you will come with me. Harmony, please go with Professor Harkenrider.” She turned and strode down the hallway. Elise glanced at Harmony and mouthed ‘good luck’ before following. Her heart pounded and her limbs felt weak, but she refused to be sick in front of Professor Richards.

  They turned a few corners before Professor Richards spoke. “The test has two parts. In one part you will be alone in a room. In the next, I will give you objects. Your reactions to them will tell us much.”

  “Wait. That’s it? I react to things after I am alone in a room?”

  “Something like that.” Professor Richards stopped in front of a door that looked like every other office door in the admin building. “In here. You will not be able to get out until we are ready to let you out.”

  Though her words were ominous, Elise entered the small room when Professor Richards opened it for her.

  “Just relax, Elise. It won’t take long.” She smiled thinly and shut Elise into the small room. The walls were black as was the floor and ceiling. The only thing that broke the matte black was the fluorescent lights above.

  Well, this isn’t so bad. Elise thought. At least I can see the boring walls.

  Almost as if that thought had caused it, the lights blinked off and she was left in utter darkness.

  The last time she’d been in darkness, she’d broken her ankle. As if to remind her, it twinged in pain. Elise clenched her hands on the crutches and stood in the room. Determined to do her best, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. She hadn’t seen the ghosts or felt the pressure since she’d arrived at school.

  Thinking about it seemed to summon the specters. Mist swirled around her feet, the pressure built behind her eyes.

  “No,” she whispered. She wanted to back up, to run, to get away, but there was nowhere to go.

  Dropping her crutches, Elise knelt on the floor. Callie appeared before her and Elise wrapped her arms around the ghostly dog.

  Growing more distinct and numerous, the ghosts swirled in the air around her. Whimpering, Elise crushed Callie to her chest.

  Callie squirmed, but Elise held on. She didn’t think the dog wanted to be released.

  The first ghost dove at her. Callie snarled, a deep guttural sound she’d never heard her dog make before. The ghost backed off and Elise looked down to see her border collie had morphed into a full-fledged wolf. Elise cried out, but Callie still protected her as another ghost dove, so she held on, ducking, trying to block out the specters by burying her eyes in Callie’s fur.

  After a moment, the ghosts, including Callie, vanished with a suddenness that made Elise fall over. She’d been leaning on the dog.

  Reaching her hands out, she tried to find the crutches in the pitch black. Though the room was small, she couldn’t touch them. She couldn’t touch anything. Even the ground beneath her was gone. Elise almost wanted the ghosts to return. That was better than this nothing.

  Desperate for something to hold onto, she called to Callie. Obediently the collie appeared and Elise clutched her. The dog whined and it was almost like Elise could feel something trying to banish the dog. She wrapped her will around Callie and held her close. The force trying to steal her beloved companion away vanished. Instead Callie twisted in her arms and morphed into a giant rat.

  Elise screamed, but she could feel through some sense that it was still her dog, just disguised. Determined, she fought against the illusion and soon had her dog back in her arms.

  Light flashed on, blinding Elise. Gasping, she tried to get her eyes to adjust faster. When she finally opened her eyes, the black walls had turned to silver mirrors. She could see herself reflected over and over again on the perfect surfaces. After everything else, she wasn’t even disturbed to find she did actually float in the air several feet above the ground.

  This time Callie stayed the same, but something tugged at her features. She could feel her body melting, molding, and it hurt. Staring in the mirror, her long black hair shortened and turned brown.

  “No!” She had black hair. It was hers. The brown had been a baby thing. Fighting, she slowly returned her hair to the normal length and color. Her eyes bled to brown and she gritted her teeth and made them green again.

  This went on for a while. Something trying to change her appearance, Elise fighting to maintain who she was. Callie couldn’t help with this, and she let the ghostly dog go, though the apparition didn’t leave her side.

  Finally, the force quit pulling at her body, the lights flashed off again, and she felt the ground beneath her knees.

  Putting out her hands, she finally found her crutches and staggered to her feet.

  Once she was standing, a door snapped open and, as soon as her eyes adjusted, she staggered out into a brightly lit room containing Professor Richards and a few objects.

  Too shaken to ask the teacher how she’d done, she merely hobbled forward on an ankle that no longer hurt.

  Her teacher offered no encouragement, simply handed her a pink stone. It glowed briefly in Professor Richards’ hand but the light went out right away as soon as Elise touched it.

  Not reacting, the teacher took the stone and placed another object, a heavy iron sphere, into her hand. For a moment nothing happened, then the sphere warmed in her hand and Elise felt power surge through her. She gasped.

  Professor Richards took the sphere and handed her the last object. An empty bowl.

  Elise took it and stared inside. After a moment, clear water rushed out from the sides of the bowl until it was full.

  “Drink, you must be thirsty.”

  Not quite trusting Professor Richards, but conditioned to obey teachers, Elise took a long drink of the refreshing, cool liquid.

  “Very interesting, Elise. You ar
e, near as we can tell, a full necromancer.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Like, someone who controls the dead?”

  “Yes. Exactly like that.” Professor Richards smiled thinly. “Necromancy is an extremely rare skill. Only one magical House, the Macrows, is known to possess the genes necessary to produce a necromancer. Elise, are you adopted?”

  She didn’t want to admit to it, but it wouldn’t be hard to find out. They’d only have to ask her parents to know for sure, and to know she’d lied. Mutely, she nodded.

  “Very interesting.” Professor Richards arched her eyebrows. “Well, we must discuss. Why don’t you go to the doctor and have your cast removed? It appears you healed yourself when you altered your appearance. That is also a rare skill. Glamours are common, but actual chameleon abilities are not. Once you are done with the doctor, return here and we will discuss your options.” She gestured to a door at the back of the classroom.

  Feeling refreshed from the bowl of water, Elise pushed worry aside. While Professor Richards hadn’t exactly been encouraging, she wasn’t upset either. Or Elise didn’t think she was, anyway. Gathering her crutches for one last hike, she left the room and headed to the infirmary. The news that she could get her cast off was such a relief that she could almost not think about the implications of being a necromancer. If she understood...the ghosts would never be gone.

  Harkenrider, oh crap, why do I have to get Ichabod? Harmony had been calm about the test until the moment Elise got lovely Professor Richards and she got the scary and skeletal Harkenrider to follow. She almost heard the “mwaa haa haa” when he smiled at her, then turned his back knowing she'd follow.

  The man had already messed with her mind with the pendant, what else did he have up his sleeve?

  Okay, it was probably better she got Ichabod than Elise. She hated to use the word “mundane,” because it was weirdist, but Elise’s picture could probably be right next to the definition. Suburban, upper middle class, and straight-laced as they come.

  Except Harkenrider’s stone had showed the girl could change her face like a chameleon. What was she in for in this place? Unlike Elise, she didn’t have parents who were willing to come across country and rescue her if need be.

  Calm down. She told herself. She’d been cool in front of Elise, and she’d halfway believed it until she had to follow Harkenrider.

  The test wasn't anything which counted toward their GPA, it was merely an idea of where their powers fit on the magical spectrum. She'd hit the library on one of her midnight forays and already had a pretty good idea of that, though it wasn't common for someone outside of a House to be what she suspected.

  So, Mom hooked up with someone with major mojo. No wonder she didn’t talk about her father—if she even remembered. It all kind of fit in the theme of Keep Austin Weird, though she’d been secretly hoping all these years her dad was a rock star.

  Kind of fit that a person who loved Poe and Lovecraft would have mordant powers. Harmony tried to remind herself that Sir Terry Pratchett also said that magic had no color. Whatever gifts she had, she didn’t have to use them for black purposes. Though she better not ever quote Pratchett, or any of her other favorite authors, on Magical Theory exams, even if she suspected they were onto something important.

  She’d already done some accidental testing with well-wishing the amulets she’d sold. People who bought them came back asking for different wishes or wishes for their loved ones. Of course, a few wanted darker stuff, she’d opted out considering how disastrous just wanting Johnny Carver to shut up had been.

  There was also the issue of karma. She doubted she’d ever overcome the karma of killing Johnny. Bad juju was going to follow her all her days.

  Crap again, she hadn’t been listening to Ichabod explaining the test. He opened the door to a room and indicated she was to enter. She took two steps in, and the door shut her into pitch black.

  Harmony swore, then forced herself to center, turn carefully, and search for a light switch. She carefully measured each step and when her questing fingers encountered solid wall, she felt for a light switch, door molding. Nothing.

  Not funny, Ichabod!

  She’d been shoved in her locker far too many times as a kid. Anger suffused her, but she kept it down. In space, nobody could hear you scream, and she wasn’t going to give her sadistic instructor the pleasure. Cold sweat streamed down her side. She bit her lip and tried to think.

  She took a long breath and deliberately turned with her back to the wall. Time to start using all those relaxation exercises she’d learned from Mom’s yoga circle.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Shadows swirled around her, faceless nameless forms dancing to a tune she couldn’t hear. That bad juju she’d referenced…. It was a whole lot closer than she’d imagined. Paybacks were hell and it just might be time for hers.

  Wait. Another thought occurred. This was a test. Most of the time there was more than one answer. If they were like the spirits which seemed to follow Elise, she could banish them and be done. But that felt like the equivalent of tearing up her test paper before she ever wrote anything upon it.

  Harmony—she wasn’t sure why her own name came to her. She could choose the meaning of her name or the chaotic images she was experiencing.

  What would Stevie Nicks do?

  Probably think she was having a flashback and sign up for Betty Ford.

  Cold arms wrapped around her from behind. Heart hammering, she took a deep breath and turned into the ghostly embrace of a shadowy presence and invited her companion to dance.

  The hum grew louder, but the presence refused to budge. Chill, worse than a midnight wind off the river, enveloped her. Blind, alone, and lost in noise…. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she knew if she fell, she might fall and descend past the boundaries of this room into some morbid mental oubliette it would take forever to climb out of. Again, she invited the presence to dance in harmony with her…. A second time, it refused her.

  Be that way. I’ll name my own tunes then. Harmony laughed over the hum and started the mental recording of Gypsy in her head. She danced through the song, coaxing the shadows to join with her.

  Stevie Ray’s Superstition vibrated in her bones.

  Arms grew tentacles and tried to stop her from moving. If they were going to stick her with an imaginary friend, they could at least have given her someone amiable like Elise’s dog.

  Cthulhu, seriously? Take that!

  No multi-legged Elder God was going to pull her down. She imagined how delicious the calamari tasted at her favorite Italian restaurant on Lake Travis. With horseradish sauce!

  Harmony broke away from the shadow’s embrace, twirling faster in the endless darkness. She called the tune and moved to the rhythm, raising her voice in song above the hellacious hum starting again in her head.

  Vibrations from the noise felt like they’d shatter her brain, spewing the gelatinous parts of her out on the dark empty floor. The urge to bang her head against the wall, succumb to unconsciousness and the dark turned her to raise her hands to the smooth surface and rear back as far as she could go for that fatal, hopefully pain-relieving blow.

  “You. Are. Not!”

  Harmony bellowed hard enough to make her feel like she’d swallowed a bucket of Scotch Bonnets. She turned away from the wall, her whole body shaking. Nervous perspiration soaked her clothing, threatening to weigh her down. She swirled her skirt and kept her feet moving despite her Doc Martens feeling like someone had cast them in lead instead of leather. She staggered, regretting her choice of footwear and the stifling school jumper that felt like a straitjacket in the heat of her emotions. She pulled the jumper off over her head, dancing in her shirt, tights, and shoes…

  Voodoo Child, the ear-splitting Hendrix-on-acid version, poured out of her mind. She cranked up the volume and moved like a thing possessed, guitar and drums in her head chasing the darkness. Her heart pumped with the rhythm, her body moved like the legendar
y guitarist plucked her strings, her soul soared with the intensity and sheer power.

  She affirmed the power and independence of the lyrics, claimed her magic, and forced through the mire that still held her in a place she didn’t want to be. The shadows moved and coursed around her, joining at last in the dance.

  A crescendo of cymbals rushed in like high tide. She rode the wave, blowing away the darkness before her.

  I. Choose. My. Own. Path!!!!!

  Lights flashed on, Harmony imagined steel-toed cowboy boots, and kicked the backside of the darkness out and away from her.

  The door opened and Ichabod stood staring open-mouthed at her. She had to turn down the music in her head to hear what he had to say.

  “Singular,” was the one word he uttered.

  Harmony bowed, somewhat frenetic laughter bubbling out of her. Sweat made her hair frizz and curl like she’d stuck it in a light socket and her remaining clothes clung to her body in the cold air conditioned room.

  She picked up the jumper and pulled it back on over her head.

  “Stevie, Stevie Ray, and Jimi, they’ll kick any demon’s butt.”

  He raised a tattered gray brow and gestured her into an adjacent white-walled room, which reminded her of a sanitized version of an Austin-based metaphysical shop her mom and friends often visited downtown. Various stones sat on glass shelves arrayed about the room with key lights illuminating them. She suppressed the urge to pet the pretties and waited for him to instruct her on what would happen next.

  “These look like common stones to you,” he began in a sonorous tone. “But they are actually artifacts which are tuned to resonate with mages’ particular powers.”

  Harmony thought about the ametrine he’d given her the day before. She wasn’t quite sure whether she wanted to thank the professor or bring the thing down and throw it in his face. It certainly would come in handy particularly dealing with people whose intentions were uncertain, but she wished to God she hadn’t worn it the night before the test and freaked out her poor roomie.