Nothing But Necromancy (Macrow Necromancers Book 1)

by J A Campbell

  “Aah, there you two are.” Cousin Macrow approached looking relieved. “Stay with me. It’s not safe.”

  With that command, he turned and headed toward the library.

  Sharing a glance with Harmony, they both shrugged and then followed.

  At some point before Cousin Macrow showed up, Callie had vanished.

  Elise shivered, but knew she had to seriously rethink her opinion of ghosts in general. That was for another time. Right now, they still had to survive the night.

  A veil of smoke befogged the hilltop, making it difficult to breathe anywhere near the girls’ dorm. House fires smelled different than a fireplace. Sure, there was the scent of wood, but also fabric and dreams gone up in flames.

  Harmony and Elise had lain down on makeshift pallets on the floor of the library’s restricted area. Cousin Macrow sat in a chair nearby, guarding them. No one slept and no one spoke until Mrs. Mathers came to tell them that showers were available.

  “Cousin,” Harmony said when Elise went to take the first shower. She was surprised her kinswoman could breathe, she was so smoky-smelling. “We need to talk.”

  One thing about Cousin Macrow, he barely even flinched when he heard the words Harmony was told most men dreaded to hear. He was scary calm and steady.

  “I need an honest answer from you.”

  He nodded.

  Harmony paused, considering his unruffled expression. She took three long breaths, both to steady herself and hopefully to rattle him—if that was even possible.

  “I need to know if you were the one who killed my mother and my grandparents.”

  “No,” he answered without hesitation, looking her in the eyes.

  “Do you know who did?”

  “If I did, I couldn’t answer,” he said.

  “My grandparents.... she began carefully. “That was to protect me. I’ve already gotten the papers.” It shocked her to know how much the Hendricks family was worth. Her grandparents had not intended her to get her mom’s portion of the estate let alone theirs, but she was her mom’s sole heir and thus the whole thing passed to her without contest. She’d be set for life. She’d read enough in the papers about the “accident” to realize it wasn’t accidental at all. Someone in an eighteen-wheeler ran the car off the road at the perfect spot for the two of them to drown.

  “More to protect the House, I would presume…they were making enough threats and innuendoes to expose your relationship.” Cousin said.

  Harmony met his eyes. He might be telling a bald-faced lie, but she doubted it.

  “Where were you the night they were killed? You weren’t here.”

  He didn’t even blink at the question. “On an errand for Lord Macrow which was not related to you.”

  She opened her mouth and he shook his head. “You want to know more, ask him.”

  A challenge. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to face the man without a whole lot more information about what was going on. Alistair Macrow’s name was spoken in reverence around the school, even by people like Professor Thompson who claimed to not venerate the magical Houses. He’d reigned over House Macrow for centuries, if the records were correct, and more of his enemies had died or disappeared than most of the other Houses combined. If mentions of him were couched with fear and respect from those much higher up than she, Harmony didn’t see any point in facing him down. The longer it took for that no doubt inevitable encounter to occur, the better chance she might have of surviving.

  “Can you tell me anything at all that would help me?” Harmony hated the desperate rise in her voice she hadn’t been able to control. Fear knotted in her throat. Mom was murdered. Her “grandparents” run off the road. Now, someone burned down the dorm.

  “Learn as much as you can,” he said. “Hone your skills. Keep your mouth shut about what you do know. Make alliances with people who can help you.”

  They exchanged a glance. He didn’t say any more and she didn’t have the strength to ask. This had been more than they’d spoken since they first met. Admittedly, she hadn’t wanted to talk to him. They didn’t get off to a good start and she was still angry about being caught and sent back like a child. At the minimum, he was a resource. Potentially, he was an ally. He deserved better than the anger she’d shown him so far.

  “I’m sorry,” she began.

  He nodded.

  “Your turn for a shower,” he said quietly when Elise returned with her long raven hair tied up in a towel wearing clothing that had to have been donated from a matron about two sizes larger than she wore. She’d been lucky to have her shoes on when she fled. She looked questioningly between the two of them, but didn’t ask.

  Harmony was grateful for the shower, more so for the boy’s jeans and sweatshirt donated to her. She seriously doubted she could rock the frock like Elise could. Her kinswoman could probably make paper towels look good. The sneakers smelled manky and didn’t really fit, but a clean pair of socks added enough padding to keep them from rubbing on her feet. She’d make a trip to Portland soon and get some decent boots. She didn’t want to think about all the vintage clothing she’d lost. It was just stuff and that’s how she had to think about it. She was okay. Elise was okay. The handful of girls she could call friends were okay. That’s all that mattered.

  Elise wanted to remain in the library. She’d be safe enough with the poltergeist watching over her. The poltergeist and Callie had already made friends and seemed to have a pact to keep their mistress safe.

  Harmony wanted fresh air, if there was such a thing—and space to move around, even if there wasn’t. The walls were closing in. Cousin Macrow followed a few steps behind her. While he was good at the art of stillness, she knew he probably preferred moving around to inaction and was no doubt as curious about the fire as she.

  Harmony found an oak with low branches and climbed up to watch the building being cleared. Her guardian remained on the ground, no doubt to make sure no one had any Washingtonian leanings toward the ancient oak. She had loved climbing trees since she was a child. The third story of her mom’s Victorian home in Austin was just the right height to be up among the branches. Harmony could open a window and sit on the ledge and climb out into the older trees.

  The old building had become a pile of blackened ruins, with the stone chimney the only portion standing, still hot enough to smoke and ignite should the conditions be right. Firefighters remained with their hoses, dousing areas that sparked up, likely hoping the breeze did not kick up and re-ignite some hot portion of the structure.

  Random items floated around on what little breeze there was. Harmony caught sight of papers, bits of cloth. Nothing she’d recognize, remains of people’s lives.

  The local Fire Marshal had arrived and went over the site to determine the cause. He carried a clipboard and a camera. Another firefighter gathered evidence.

  She’d told the firefighters that the dorm doors had been locked, which was against fire code. She and her party had only managed to escape by breaking out a window. Elise had added that the fire suppression system was not functional. Combined, those were highly suspicious circumstances.

  The only girl from their dorm who’d seemingly escaped unscathed was Sylvia. She’d somehow been in the administration building laundering the best part of her own wardrobe when the conflagration struck. Professor Thompson’s favorite had managed to come out of the whole mess relatively unscathed.

  “Arson,” she read the word on the man’s lips and looked down to see Cousin’s mouth firm up. He wasn’t surprised, precisely, more like the diagnosis confirmed his suspicions. He pulled out his phone, typed out a few words in a text she could not read from that distance and sent it.

  “No…dear God….” she heard the words before the firemen came out with the stretcher bearing a body which took up only half the length. Her hands gripped the rough bark of the tree trunk, nails digging in for dear life, as a sensation of dizziness came over her.

  The body was small, charred to the point
it was unrecognizable, but Harmony knew without being told it was one of the littlest girls, the equivalent of Head Start kids in the mortal world. Their rooms were on the first floor, just so they could get out easily, but that didn’t mean they would.

  Harmony closed her eyes, feeling the wave of fear. The little one had hidden in a closet, couldn’t bring herself to open the door or cry out. The smoke had taken her long before the flames would have caused tremendous pain. It was almost like anesthetic.

  Tears blinded her. She felt Cousin’s hand on her leg. Without thinking, she allowed him to place his hands around her waist and set her down on the ground. Her knees buckled and she leaned against him, taking deep steadying breaths. His arm wrapped around her, keeping her standing, keeping her from flying apart.

  “There’s more,” the Fire Marshal said to the headmaster who stood by, his expression grim.

  “Block,” Cousin said the one word in undertones next to her ear. They’d practiced shielding from the trauma of death almost from the first. That type of blow had felled many necromancers more practiced than she and Elise—and the more power they had, the more intensely they would sense the feelings.

  Necromancy was such a fearsome sounding term, few realized it also went hand-in-hand with empathy. When they called the dead, they opened themselves to their feelings and experiences, for good or ill. That required distance and perspective.

  This time, the corpse came out melted to a wheelchair. Harmony sank against the bedrock of her cousin’s side, soaking his shirt with tears. He patted her back gently and said nothing when she straightened up and did her best to restore her own brave face. She looked around, grateful to note no one appeared to be looking in her direction. She hadn’t precisely attempted to cultivate the rep of a badass necromancer, but she suspected she was going to need to do so pronto.

  The final one was near Harmony’s height. One of the girls on the top floor with them, no doubt. Unrecognizable. Elise would feel terrible knowing someone else had been there that she could have helped if she’d known. The ghosts hadn’t told her—and had not chosen to help the other mage.

  “Belladonna,” Cousin mouthed the word.

  Harmony swallowed. Valerian and Belladonna were common in the greenhouse and the staff did not mind if they were used with care and medicinally. In fact, they encouraged the students to learn herb lore and use it instead of commercial medicine. The girl had taken the herb to sleep like so many of her classmates did; enough that she didn’t hear the fire alarm and was overcome by the smoke long before the flames reached her.

  Cold comfort. Harmony tucked her hands in the sleeves of her borrowed sweatshirt for warmth. A thought occurred, where was the girl’s roommate and why hadn’t she said something about her not being there? Most of the upper-class should have been abed by the hour the fire struck, it was planned that way.

  The answer came in the form of Mrs. Mathers, white-faced and looking shocked.

  “Sir,” she said to the headmaster. “Could you come with me, please? I think we’ll need the police.”

  Harmony followed Cousin Macrow back toward the buildings, not so much out of a sense of curiosity but the need for safety and having someone who was “family” close. She just couldn’t stand the sight of the place destroyed and didn’t particularly want to be alone. They entered the girls’ portion of the gym, which had been opened last night for dormitory space. The girls gym coach guarded an equipment room door, her expression grim.

  “Stay out,” Cousin Macrow mouthed. For once, Harmony was more than willing to follow orders. She’d seen enough to give her nightmares for a few months—if Professor Thompson’s abuse hadn’t done that already. She hung back, close enough to help should the need arise, and far enough to run.

  Still, she caught a glimpse of Joy hanging from one of the overhead beams. She moved close enough to hear Coach, Cousin and the headmaster discussing her suicide note. The girl was taking blame for setting the dormitory ablaze. She hadn’t given a reason, which confounded Mrs. Mathers and even Coach, who was far more physical than cerebral.

  “Don’t!” Cousin Macrow stopped them from taking her down. He didn’t touch the body, but Harmony saw him looking at her fingernails and the rope around her neck.

  “Call the police,” Cousin Macrow said. “Notify her family if anyone is available to claim her.” He stepped outside and gestured for Harmony to follow. She swallowed. Most of the kids didn’t have families. Their behavior was often so freaky their parents gave them willingly to the school to keep their sanity and their property from being destroyed. Elise was one of the lucky ones, her adoptive family still made contact and genuinely cared.

  “I liked her,” Harmony said. “She wouldn’t have set the fire.” She explained a basic theory class she and Elise had attended with Joy. The girl was terrified when fire was part of her original test. Though she’d vowed to learn counterspells against the element, she’d panicked when a fire spell was conjured in one of her classes. So much so she’d paled and Harmony smelled the unmistakable odor of urine.

  Cousin nodded.

  When they were far enough away for no one else to hear, Harmony got up the nerve to ask.

  “Did she even kill herself?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “There are bruises on her wrists, some of her nails are broken.”

  “Is there any way we can ask her?”

  He raised a brow, his eyes lighting with green fire. “You’re catching on, Ms. Macrow.”

  “Going to be your favorite student,” Harmony said out of habit, with no heart to put any sass behind the statement, though she tensed at the use of the Macrow name as her own. She wasn’t sure if she should cling to her identity as Harmony Hendricks, or accept that she was a Macrow and own it.

  Cousin wasn’t by profession or preference a teacher, she knew that. He’d come onboard as an enforcer and gotten recruited as a magical defense instructor. He really wasn’t bad at the job, but she suspected he’d rather be out on the front lines protecting the Lord and the reputation of House Macrow.

  “So, how do we do it?”

  For a moment, he considered. Harmony suppressed the urge to grin at the thought of conning him into something. If he protested, she had the backup argument planned that it would be “educational.”

  “We find out where they took her and interview her postmortem. It will have to be before the autopsy, though.”

  Harmony remembered. That winged incision did more than open a window for forensic study. “I’m getting Elise.”

  For a minute, she thought he would tell her no. Instead, he nodded. They found Elise studying in the library and liberated her. Harmony quickly explained.

  “One of you will have to provide a distraction.”

  “That would be me,” Elise said readily. “We know Harmony can reach the dead. I may be able to find her later.”

  Yup, Elise was admitting to Cousin she could talk to ghosts now. Harmony agreed with the decision. He was about the only person at the school she believed was in their corner. At least he was teaching them how to shield and attack if need be. If he hadn’t already figured out what they could do, it wasn’t a bad idea to let him know, so he could aid them in finding out more—and protecting themselves better.

  Despite her matronly attire, Elise managed to convince the local coroner that she was interested in a career in science. The elderly physician stood outside his office chatting with her while Harmony and Cousin Macrow stole up the back stairs and into the autopsy room. From what Harmony could hear, Elise was doing a pretty good job asking questions—if she wasn’t such a girl about “icky stuff,” she had a fine mind and a potential for a career in science.

  Joy lay on the table with a sheet covering her body. Her head lay askew despite what appeared to be efforts to settle her in a more normal position. She’d probably broken her neck hanging—or someone had done it for her beforehand just to make sure she truly died. Harmony’s nostrils flared with what she took to b
e the stench of fear and violence. In life, she was a quiet girl, the one who sat in the middle of the class and hoped for a B. She didn’t make trouble and she didn’t call attention to herself. She studied magic so she could control her gifts and return to her family in the normal world and have a regular life. She’d probably open up a magic shop or grow herbs. Nothing way out there, but something to connect her to her gifts. If Harmony was going to peg someone as an arsonist, it would have been one of the kids in the back row. Or maybe even a front row kid like her disgruntled over a bad grade or in a generally anti-establishmentarian mood.

  “Joy.” Harmony didn’t even have to lay a hand on her to stir up the afterlife, the soul, some religious folks would call it. “Did you set the fire in the dorms?”

  “No!” the girl’s voice was loud enough, Harmony feared the doctor would rush in.

  “Shhhhh…” she said. “Why did you hang yourself?”

  “Can’t remember.”

  Harmony glanced down at the girls’ wrists and shuddered at the bruises. She didn’t have to look at her own arms to recall what had been done. Her manicure was messed up and a couple of nails were broken. She’d fought and lost.

  “Did you speak with Professor Thompson just before you died?” Cousin Macrow carefully probed.

  “Can’t remember….” Her voice rose with agitation.

  “Is there anything you can tell us?” Cousin asked, gently. “Were you there when the fire started?”

  “No,” Joy said. “I saw it burn from….”

  “Where, Joy?” he asked.

  “I can’t remember.” Her voice sounded like wind stirring autumn leaves.

  “Rest,” he said, lightly gesturing for the spirit to leave her. Harmony could feel it floating above, passing like a cool wind in the airless room, and then popping like a bubble as it exited.

  “We could have broken the spell on her if she were living,” he surprised her with the disclosure. “It may well have done damage to her mind if the break wasn’t done carefully.” Cousin gave her a significant look. He could have recovered her memories – the ones Professor Thompson had done his best to excise if she hadn’t forced recall herself. Harmony reached up to touch the ametrine Professor Harkenrider had given her. The stone of vision, memory, and positive energy had done more to save her than anything. She needed to thank the man.