by J A Campbell
Elise grinned slightly at that.
As she continued to read, she began to get the idea that necromancy wasn’t a well-understood subject, at least by outsiders. She hoped that her instructors knew more about how to teach her, or she might actually have to go to the House Macrow school. Maybe they could send a tutor?
Skimming the thin volume actually didn’t tell her much more than she already knew. Disappointed, she picked up another book.
This one seemed more fearful. The author had obviously had a bad experience with a necromancer, because she went on and on about how evil they all were and how dangerous the skill was. Purportedly, House Macrow was full of dark and dangerous sociopaths who’d stop at nothing to gain ultimate control of the magical community.
Elise didn’t feel evil.
Putting that one back, she took the, next one down. This one carried on in the same manner as the last. Perhaps the necromancers liked it that way.
The rest of the books in the section were about identifying ghosts, haunts, and other dead things. Maybe some of them would have more information.
Elise spent the next few hours reading about various dead things, completely entranced. She thought the subject should probably horrify her, but it resonated within her and she didn’t find any disgust or horror.
A wave of exhaustion settled over her as she put the last book back.
“It’s probably time to go back to the dorm, Callie.”
The glowing dog dimmed slightly and Elise took that as agreement.
“It’s a good thing I don’t have any morning classes tomorrow.” Standing, she stretched out stiff muscles. Considering the way her body felt, what she thought initially was tomorrow might well be today.
A faint bit of pressure built behind her eyes. She wondered if this was a signal that ghosts were around, or if it was her power needing to be used.
If she just let off a little magic, perhaps that would make the pressure go away. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about the build-up releasing all at once and getting out of control. That was a good idea.
Squinting her eyes shut, she tried to let just a little bit trickle out of her fingers. A faint wisp, so minute that nothing bad would happen. There, the pressure lessened.
Grinning, she opened her eyes and, happiness turning to terror, screamed.
A pale face grinned back at her before seeming to back away rapidly, trailing ghostly light behind him.
Laughter echoed around her and then the metal stacks nearby rattled. Papers, laid out on tables for sorting, started a susurrus as the resultant breeze stirred up glowing motes of dust, which reminded her of lightning bugs.
“Oh no,” she gasped and ran for the stairs. The last type of ghost she’d read about was a poltergeist. This one certainly acted like one.
Elise hit the stairwell running and bolted up, taking the steps two at a time. Callie followed.
She burst out onto the main level and headed straight for the door as the stacks quaked around her. Books launched themselves from the shelves as she threw herself out the main door and raced back to her dorm. Barely even registering that it was almost dawn, she shoved open the door to her dorms and raced up the narrow staircase.
By the time she reached the top, her lungs burned and her legs trembled, but she wasn’t stopping until she was safe in her own room.
Elise dashed down the hallway, jerked her door open and slammed it shut behind her. Childish though it might be, she dove into her bed and pulled the covers up over her head.
As the adrenalin faded from her system, she shook. What had she done?
“Elise?”
Groaning, Elise shoved the covers off of her head to find Mrs. Mathers staring down at her with a concerned expression on her face.
“Yes?”
“We have a situation we were hoping you might help us with. Are you wearing your clothes?”
Elise looked at herself. “I must have been tired when I went to bed last night.” Last night came rushing back. She managed to keep her expression even, however. “What do you need?” She was almost afraid to ask.
“There’s a, hm, situation, in the library. We thought you might take a look.”
“Sure, give me a minute to brush my teeth?”
“Of course. I’ll wait downstairs. Please hurry.” Mrs. Mathers shot a concerned glance at Harmony’s empty bed before leaving the room.
Elise was certain her roommate was fine, but she understood Mrs. Mathers’ concern. More upsetting at the moment was what exactly was Elise going to do about the ghost in the library? That was the only thing she could think they might have called her for. She had no talent in anything magical yet, but with Harmony gone, she was the only necromancer on campus.
Hurrying through her morning routine, Elise scampered down the stairs and discovered it was far from morning. The lunch bell tolled and as her stomach growled, Elise wondered if they’d waited to wake her, or perhaps the damage wasn’t that bad.
Twisting her hands together, she followed Mrs. Mathers across the lawn and into the library.
Stopping just inside the doorway, she stared in shock, a hand going to cover her mouth. Not a book sat on a shelf. Thousands of tomes littered the floor, the desks, and every available surface. Some even stuck to the walls, though she had no idea how they stayed.
Random sheets of paper fluttered on invisible air currents and anytime someone tried to pick up a book, it leapt from their hands and smacked into someone else. The air was redolent with the smell of old things: dust, leather, and even ink. Motes sparkled in the fluorescent lighting. Even more restless than the books, they flocked around the room, lighting, then taking off at the slightest disturbance.
A small army of red-eyed students wearing cotton gloves and impromptu dust masks continued to try both by hand and with magic, to pick up the books, but all had the same results.
A younger boy tried to walk further into the mess and a tornado of books built from nothing and went straight for him. He yelled and ran to the edge of the carnage.
“It seems our resident poltergeist has woken. Perhaps we should have expected this with two necromancers on campus. Perhaps not. Regardless, if you would please send him back to rest, we’d all like to get on with our day.” Mrs. Mathers didn’t sound nearly as upset about it as Elise would have been.
“This has happened before?”
“Well, not this.” Mrs. Mathers gestured at the piles of books everywhere. “But now and again, books do randomly fly off of shelves and attack people. It’s usually little more than an annoyance.”
One of the librarians raised her hands in disgust and stormed out the front door. Elise thought she saw tears on the woman’s face.
Feeling horrible, Elise nodded. “I’ll do my best. What do I do?”
“I haven’t a clue, child. I’m not a necromancer.”
Elise sighed. “Okay.” She wondered if Harmony’s ability to wish things to happen would work for her, too.
Fervently, she wished for the ghost to go away.
A student once again picked up a book. It pelted a teacher in the back of the head.
Or not.
Shutting her eyes, she tried to gather her power to her.
The ghost laughed as she did, perhaps sensing her. The book tornado re-appeared, flinging books and desks and chairs until everyone but Elise dove for cover. Elise, somehow, used her power to shield herself before the detritus crashed into her. She stood alone, gathering her power as the chaos reigned around her.
Wishing she knew what she did, Elise threw her power at the book tornado. “Begone!” She shouted and threw her hands and her power outward.
The tornado collapsed and for a moment, Elise thought she’d done it, but then laughter echoed around her and a wall of books lifted from the floor, almost in slow motion, before they crashed into her.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” she heard a voice hiss as the books overwhelmed her shields and buried her.
El
ise screamed as an avalanche of leather and paper crushed her.
Distantly she heard a dog barking. The ghost’s laughter abruptly turned to a yell of anger and then vanished.
Callie barked again, but this time she sounded triumphant.
Elise shifted slightly under the weight of the books and wished she could sink into the floor. This mess was her fault. Maybe the books would bury her forever.
Shifting books and concerned voices dashed that hope as people flung books off of her.
“Elise! Are you okay?” Mrs. Mathers led the book-flinging party.
“Yes.”
“Well, that wasn’t quite how I had expected you to banish the ghost, but I suppose if you had to use another ghost to do it, that’s better than nothing at all.”
“I don’t think he’s gone.” Elise climbed out of the pile of books.
“No. Probably not. Like I said, he’s not normally that powerful. Something must have given him a boost.”
Elise stepped free of the books and reached down to pet the ghostly dog. “Thanks, Callie.”
Callie wagged her tail. It tickled where it passed through Elise’s calf.
Mrs. Mathers didn’t suspect it was Elise’s fault. No one did. She could get away with not saying anything. She really could, but her conscience wouldn’t let her.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mathers. It’s probably my fault.” She hesitated. “No, it is my fault. I was reading last night and I felt the pressure build up. I hoped I could get rid of a little bit and then not have some sort of explosion later. I guess I gave the ghost the boost.” Elise hung her head.
After a moment of silence Mrs. Mathers took a deep breath. “I see. Well, start by helping to clean this mess up. We’ll discuss after hours library use once you finish.”
Elise looked around at the thousands of books that lay everywhere. All of them?
Enough people had overheard her confession that most who stood close glared at her before bending down to start the process of putting a library back together.
One of the younger librarians arrived with numerous photocopies of a chart, which showed what books belonged in what areas of the library. She briefly explained how to read the spines of the books for the information they needed to re-locate the volumes to their assigned areas. The library staff and student aides would be there to assist with any questions students had about order, which was necessary if they were to ever find any books again. With two floors of books gone astray, excluding the papers in the basement, this was going to be an all-hands task.
“You can’t do it with magic?”
The elder librarian, who’d fled, took one look at Elise and just shook her gray head. The younger hurried her off to a side office. The words “happy hour” echoed in the room before the door shut on the senior librarian.
“Elise, this school doesn’t normally have major talents,” Mrs. Mathers explained. “The House schools certainly could. None of the students here are that powerful and while the professors have a lot of experience, and some might even be able to assist...their time is better spent elsewhere.”
She pointed at the books and Elise obediently picked one up and looked at the spine. This book wasn’t even from this floor.
The impossibility of the task overwhelmed her, but, at least she wouldn’t be laboring alone.
She picked up another book and winced at the bent cover. What a mess.
Sneaking out at midnight was much easier than sneaking in. Dorm doors had to be set for fire safety and while there might have been an alarm, Harmony was pretty sure the ancient matron could sleep through anything. Either that, or she was turning a blind eye to her departure believing she was just headed for another midnight study foray in the library.
She’d managed to get a red-eye flight out of Seattle straight to Austin. If she kept the pedal to the metal she’d get there on time. She’d packed light. There wasn’t much point in staying past the services. Okay, Grandmother Dearest had made it plain there wasn’t any point in attending the services at all, but she had to say goodbye and thank you to her mom for her own sanity’s sake.
Whether she’d done the job for love or money hadn’t mattered. In Harmony’s mind, her mom was her mom and that was the end of it. She’d never be the kind of person to send packages of cookies and tea like Elise’s mom. But Harmony could go out on her own and get whatever she needed. She didn’t feel quite as lost and alone as her roomie did in the JM school and that, no doubt, was due to her mom teaching her resilience. Even if the lessons had been, in no small part, the hard way.
Who else would understand dancing with the demons who tried to make you crazy?
She drove out of the school with the Beetle’s lights off. She hoped Elise would not be considered complicit in her escape. Her roomie wasn’t in bed and her little ghost dog was nowhere in sight, either. It wasn’t like Elise to be out at night, but Harmony was sure the dog would keep watch over her. She wished the two of them safety—just in case.
Pacific Northwest fog rolled along with her all the way to SeaTac. She parked the Beetle in the mostly-empty short-term garage, gathered her things, and raced for the terminal.
She kept looking at the airline staff and wishing with every bit of magic she had that none of them would ask if she had permission to be there. Her red-rimmed eyes and the tale of her mom’s funeral got everyone moving on her behalf. She arrived at the gate just as the final boarding call came in. Seeing her situation, the flight attendant upgraded her to an empty seat at the back of First Class.
She opened The Masterharper of Pern, which she’d purchased and hadn’t had time to read, but her eyes closed and it was the flight attendant’s touch on her shoulder which woke her up in Austin.
Home. It was the first thought she had when she looked out the window. The weather was hell, the sea of redneck barbarians surrounding the city worse. Yet, where else was the eclectic and weird enjoyed and embraced?
More wishes for the rental car company to overlook her age. No upgrade, but she had a compact car full of gas and time enough to make it to her destination. Passing through downtown, she even caught sight of Leslie, 6’5” in a neon micro mini from the Sixties with a few inches added to her already impressive height courtesy of ridiculously high-heeled platform boots and a teased-up hairdo that, according to Texas legend, would get her even closer to God. She towered over the suits-and-ties, who were trying to avoid the drag queen and sometimes mayoral candidate like whatever she had was contagious.
She pulled into the upscale funeral home her grandparents had chosen for the service, with minutes to spare. The receptionist directed her to the restrooms where she changed from the jeans and t-shirt she’d worn on the plane to more suitable attire.
Harmony didn’t dare wear her Gunne Sax to a funeral again. Instead, she had packed a forties style suit her mom had picked up for her at an estate sale. It was so tailored, she almost felt like she wore a military uniform, but it was charcoal gray and dressy enough for a funeral. Paired with a pair of t-strap patent leather heels and a veiled hat she’d cooked up, she was in period parlance, “the cat’s meow.” She put on rouge red lipstick and cheeks at the end and she thought she’d do.
A grin spread on her face as she stepped out into the crowd of friends who’d assembled for the services. Hippies, musicians, metaphysicians, street performers, freaks—and there in the midst of them, looking badly out of place, were Grandmother and Grandfather Dearest. She exchanged tearful embraces with many of her mom’s friends, but reluctantly started toward family.
Melissa, her mom’s lawyer and her wife who she’d married overseas, Lori, stood next to them. They were an interesting contrast, Melissa was a redhead with blue eyes and soft curls. Lori was a tall Black woman with a tiny short-cut Afro and erect, proud carriage marked from prior military service. Clearly, they were trying to be good hostesses and not succeeding too well. The elderly couple they were attempting to make comfortable looked like they’d sucked on dill pickles as th
ey surveyed the motley crowd with distaste. Doctors Sylvia and Ronald Hendricks were both clad in Ralph Lauren with discreet gold Rolexes on their left wrists.
Might as well get it over with, Harmony thought as she made her way through the crowd, forcing a smile on her face, and extending her hand first to her mother’s parents, vainly hoping they might accept her in person.
“Hello,” she said in her most careful tones. “I’m your granddaughter, Harmony Hendricks.”
Grandmother paled enough that her makeup stood out like mud on her lightly tanned face. Harmony let her hand drop, noting peripherally Melissa’s sympathetic look.
Grandfather was a bit better mannered and offered a firm handshake without even trying to shake the dust from his hand afterward. His eyes were kind. Whatever resentment his wife bore was not on his shoulders, but she wasn’t sure he’d be an ally, either. He’d have to live with his tight-lipped wife after and that didn’t look like it’d be any more pleasure than a funeral.
“Harmony, thank you for coming, though it really wasn’t necessary.” He said, kindly. “It’s good to meet you.” That much, she believed he felt.
From Melissa’s look, she could tell it was a good idea she was there. Lori nodded, her dark eyes grave. Harmony marked tension in the air, more so than she’d expect from just a funeral. People eyed each other with suspicion and fear. Her mom’s friends were not that kind of uptight people. Harmony swallowed. She was pretty sure that the wiccans and metaphysicians in the room were twigging on the bad mojo. She didn’t know whether it was her mom’s death—or the appearance of long-lost family that stirred things up. She just wanted her mom’s send-off to be a lot more peaceful than Johnny Carver’s. The funeral home was redolent with spirits from the past. She fervently wished them peace and good rest and begged them not to disturb her mom’s ceremony.
“Let’s be seated,” Grandmother’s voice was remote, not the assured tones she remembered from her two phone conversations.
Harmony accepted Melissa’s and Lori’s outstretched hands and went to sit between them on the far side of the front “family” pew where her Grandparents had the best seats. They were two of her mom’s closest friends; Melissa had represented Mom through the highs and the lows, from helping set up the charities she’d started, to bailing her out of jail on whatever charges she’d faced, from possession to protesting at the Capitol.