“Stand back,” the Necromancer commanded, pushing himself up to his feet.
All three shuffled back a few steps, watching as their master spread his fleshy hands out above the tabletop and began chanting, calling the table’s magic to life. The anguished eyes floated slowly to the surface, each one glowing brighter with every passing second. The Necromancer continued his rhythmic chanting, now uttering incantations none of the others had ever heard before. A faint, dark purplish glow began to envelop the table, dancing upon the black surface like tiny purple flames and making the table’s edges seem to shimmer. A low hum not unlike the buzzing of a machine arose from within the table as he continued his sing-song chant.
Suddenly, to the utter amazement of the two black waziri and their apprentice, the table began to shrink. They watched wide-eyed as it grew smaller and smaller, until it was no more than four or five inches in diameter and perhaps half that in height. Finally, the Necromancer ceased his chant and turned to Jordan.
“Pick that up,” he ordered the young novitiate, nodding toward the shrunken table, which now looked more like a dark amulet with legs.
Jordan bent and carefully lifted the table, straining under the unexpected weight of so small a thing. When Jordan straightened up, the Necromancer was holding a small black velvet pouch out in front of his bulging belly.
“Put it in here—very carefully, if you value your present existence.”
A shiver of cold fear ran through Jordan. He knew exactly what his master meant by that. He gingerly placed the table into the sack, glad to have the thing out of his hands. He had no desire to end up inside the table.
The Necromancer drew the top closed with a gold-colored drawstring and deposited the pouch into a pocket inside his cloak. He looked at his three followers, pleased by the expressions of awe he saw etched on their faces. It was useful to surprise them with a new trick every now and then, to demonstrate the breadth of his powers. In order to insure instant obedience, they needed to fear as well as respect him.
“You did not think I was going to travel without my table, did you?” he asked. He paused for a moment to accentuate his words. His followers knew no response was wanted, and so none was given.
“Now go gather your things. I have a jet chartered for five o’clock. We are going to America.”
17. CALLING CARD
AFTER BRIEF STOPOVERS in England and then Newfoundland to refuel, the jet carrying the Necromancer, Viktor, Andre and Jordan landed an hour or so after sunset at a small, out of the way airport some miles north of Bangor, Maine. Also aboard the aircraft were three servants from the castle. Awaiting the Necromancer and his followers on the edge of the tarmac was a custom-made, oversized brown and white Winnebago RV. Behind the RV sat an empty black SUV.
The jet taxied as near to the RV as possible before the passengers silently disembarked. The Necromancer came out last, his huge bulk threatening to bend the portable metal stairway before he lumbered safely onto the ground. The secluded airport combined with the cover of darkness to insure that no one witnessed the evil mage and his followers climb aboard the RV, while Jordan slipped behind the wheel of the SUV. A powerful spell cast by Andre caused the two pilots and three nightshift airport workers to remember the flight as just another flight and the arrival as just another private arrival. No details about the passengers or the RV would be remembered.
The RV came equipped with a driver, a capable man accustomed to working outside the bounds of the law who had been thoroughly vetted by contacts in the United States. The addition of the driver made a total of eight people in the company. The Necromancer had a large curtained area in the rear of the RV all to himself, equipped with a sturdy king-sized bed and a specially reinforced swivel chair. The two black waziri and Jordan would share another comfortable space, while the servants and the driver had to make do with a much smaller sleeping area. There was also a small kitchen and a table that folded down from the wall where four people could eat a time. A section in the middle of the RV could be extended outward from the side of the vehicle, leaving enough space for the Necromancer to restore his magical table to normal size whenever he chose. For now, he kept the shrunken table close at hand in the pocket of his dark cloak.
The two vehicles drove slowly out of the airport and headed to a nearby campground where two adjacent spaces had been reserved to accommodate the oversized RV. The spaces were on the very edge of the wooded campground, shielded from the rest of the park’s occupants by leafy trees. While the servants connected the power and water hookups, the Necromancer summoned Viktor and Jordan to his quarters at the back of the RV.
They found their master seated comfortably in his special chair, his hands resting on his ample stomach. There were no other chairs back here, and since neither dared sit on the Necromancer’s bed, the black waziri and his apprentice remained standing.
“I need a bit of time to gather my magic and acclimate it to this continent,” the Necromancer said, directing his words at Viktor. “In the meantime, I want you to create a little calling card for your old friend Dominic, to let him know we have not forgotten him.”
The chance to cause trouble for Dominic brought a thin smile to Viktor’s lips. He had more than one score to settle with his former comrade.
“What would you have me do, My Lord?”
“Dominic is almost certainly aware of how close we are to breaking the seal. For right now, I want to let him know that at least one of the black waziri has returned to America and is working on the complete destruction of the barrier.” The Necromancer closed his eyes for a moment in thought. “Nothing too big or flashy to start, I think,” he said when he opened his eyes. “Just a hint of what is to come—something that will catch his attention without drawing undue notice otherwise.” What passed for a smile twisted his thick lips. “This is what I want you to do.”
Viktor and Jordan listened closely as the Necromancer outlined his plan. When he was finished, they hopped into the SUV and headed for the nearest town before it became too late for them to find what they needed.
18. A BAD DREAM
SLEEP DID NOT COME EASILY to Leesa tonight. This was the first time in more than ten days that she had gone to bed without Rave by her side, or at least knowing he would be there as soon as everyone else went to bed.
She tossed and turned for awhile, trying to get comfortable enough to drift off. Several times she opened her eyes to glance at the clock, whose digits seemed to be counting off the minutes with unusual slowness. The last time that she noticed before finally falling asleep was eight minutes past midnight, more than an hour after she had climbed beneath the sheets.
How long she slept before the dream began, she had no idea. This was not one of the dreams where she knew immediately that she was dreaming. It wasn’t until she woke up in darkness with her heart pounding in her chest that she realized she might have just experienced another of her magical dreams.
The night was dark, with a myriad of stars pinpricking the black sky above. Two teenage couples occupied a silver Ford pickup, doing what teenagers everywhere enjoyed doing on hot summer nights like this one. One couple, a dark-haired boy and a girl with short, dark blond hair that fell seductively across one eye, sat inside the cab with the windows open, making out passionately. The other two kids frolicked in the truck’s bed, alternating intervals of kissing with laughing and drinking beer stored in a plastic cooler. The girl’s long red hair cascaded in thick waves down her back, while her partner had buzzed his black hair down to a short crew cut.
The truck was parked near a rotting wooden barricade at the end of a dead-end road. The deserted spot was a popular place for partying and making out, awarded by general consent among the teens in town on a first-come, first-served basis to insure privacy for their nocturnal play.
The boy in back suddenly froze, a can of beer halfway to his mouth. His eyes and mouth opened wide in a mask of horror.
The girl punched him lightly on the shoulder. “St
op it, Vincent,” she said. “I’m not falling for any of your stupid tricks tonight.”
Vincent tried to speak, but no words came out. The look of horror on his face remained unchanged.
With an exasperated sigh, the girl twisted her neck around to look behind her. She screamed as a pair of rotting hands yanked her from the back of the truck.
Vincent scrabbled backward across the metal truck bed, away from the gruesome monster that had grabbed his girlfriend. The thing’s face was a mass of sores and scabs, and its eyes bulged unnaturally out of an emaciated skull. One word formed in Vince’s brain as the creature’s teeth tore into the girl’s shoulder—zombie!
Before he could process anything more, strong hands pulled him over the other side of the truck. An equally horrid face pressed close to his as sharp teeth ripped into his cheek. He screamed in pain.
Inside the cab, the couple broke their embrace at the girl’s scream. They watched in shocked horror as a pair of what could only be zombies pulled their friends from the truck and began biting into their flesh. The girl inside screamed, but the terrible creatures paid no heed as they fed hungrily upon the flesh of their victims.
Suddenly, impenetrable shrouds of blackness enveloped each of the zombies. When the blackness disappeared, the creatures were gone as well. The only sign they had ever existed at all were the two bleeding teenagers writhing on the ground on either side of the truck.
Leesa bolted up in bed, her heart hammering in her chest. The dream had been so vivid, so real, that she was certain it must have been one of her special dreams. Whether it had showed her something that had already happened or was about to happen, she had no way to know.
She glanced at the clock and saw that she had been asleep for a little more than three hours.
For several moments she sat in the dimness, fixing the details of the dream in her mind before they evaporated, as dreams so often did. Everything remained pretty clear to her except the very end—she had no idea what to make of the strange blackness that had caused the zombies to vanish.
When she was certain she could recall all the details from her vision, she switched on the light beside her bed and crossed to her desk, where she fired up her computer. As soon as she logged on, she saw the alert she had set for any new zombie stories flashing on the screen.
There were links to four new stories. The headline for one was “Wounded Maine Teens Claim Attack by Zombies.” That sounded closest to her dream, so she clicked the link. Sure enough, the story, dated just two hours earlier, was virtually identical to what she had seen in her dream. She skimmed down the description of the event until she came to the follow-up.
“Police have not released the names of the victims or the witnesses, because all are under legal age. All four have been described as being in various stages of shock and are being treated at Mercy Hospital. A police source reports that while the stories told by the four youths were virtually identical—that they were attacked by a pair of zombies—authorities have been unable to find a single trace of evidence of any attackers, human or non-human. Police are trying to determine what role alcohol or drugs may have played in the incident. The fact remains, though, that something ripped several bites out of each of the two victims.”
Leesa had read enough. She grabbed her cell and called Dominic.
The wizard answered on the second ring.
“What is it?” he asked, without even saying hello.
Leesa was not surprised. She was the only one with the number to his phone, and a call from her in the middle of the night obviously meant something important had occurred.
“There’s been a zombie attack, I think,” she told him. “Somewhere up in Maine. I dreamed it, and as soon as I woke up, I checked the internet.”
She recounted the details of her dream and then read him the story from her computer. When she finished, she heard nothing but silence on the other end. With anyone else, she would have been worried about a dropped call, but she could picture Dominic sitting in the car and stroking his pointed beard while he digested what he had heard.
“It seems that at least one of my former comrades has returned to our shores,” he said finally.
“So this was real, for certain?” Leesa asked.
“Oh, yes. Without much doubt. The blackness that both you and the kids described making the zombies vanish can only have been black magic.”
“Why bring them back to life only to destroy them so quickly? Was it some kind of test, do you think?”
“Perhaps, but I do not believe so.” Dominic paused for a moment. “The black waziri had to know that destroying the creatures in such a manner would claim my attention. I think perhaps that was the purpose behind the attack. They wanted me to notice, without making too much of a public spectacle.”
None of this was making much sense to Leesa. “But why?” she asked.
“I can only guess. Perhaps they hope to goad me into making a mistake, and thus revealing myself to them.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Exactly what we have been doing. We continue to be careful with your practice. And we remain vigilant in watching for the next incident.”
Leesa was glad the new attack was not going to affect her practice, but she didn’t like the idea that the black waziri were here in New England again, even if they were all the way up in Maine.
“So you think there will be another attack, then?”
“Oh, yes,” Dominic replied, his voice heavy with certainty. “Where and when, I cannot guess. But there will be another—and before too long, I would surmise.”
That was definitely not what Leesa wanted to hear.
19. FIREWORKS
THE SUN WAS BRUSHING the tops of the trees on the western horizon when Leesa saw Cali threading her way through the crowd that filled the park above the river. Families and groups of friends sat on folding chairs and blankets spread out on the grass, waiting for the fireworks display that would be shot from a pair of large, flat barges anchored out in the water.
A sizzling hot day had given way to a warm, muggy evening. Thankfully, a soft breeze now blew in off the river, providing at least a little bit of cooling. Near the edge of the water, a band from the local high school entertained the crowd with patriotic songs. At the moment, they were performing a rousing rendition of “This Land Is Your Land.”
Leesa sat in a canvas chair, with Rave on one side of her and Dominic on the other. Her mom hadn’t been feeling well today and had decided to stay home. Bradley had chosen to remain at home with her. For some reason, he had never been much of a fan of fireworks, even when he was younger. An empty chair next to Rave waited for Cali.
As usual, Cali had costumed herself for the occasion. She was wearing a pair of white short shorts and a blue T-shirt that looked as if it had been slashed across the front by an angry tiger. The half-inch wide gashes ran diagonally from her left shoulder almost to her waist. Beneath the shirt, visible though the rips, she sported a bright red bra. Her hair was dyed blue on one side and red and blonde on the other. A plastic headband adorned with silver stars circled her head. Blue canvas Converse sneakers with white stars completed her ensemble.
Leesa, who had dressed patriotically in blue shorts and a simple red and white striped sleeveless top, thought all Cali needed was a lit sparkler in each hand to put her completely over the top.
“What, no sparklers?” she asked.
Cali grinned and reached into her small red bag, pulling out a handful of sparklers. She gave two to Leesa and kept a pair for herself.
“What’s the Fourth of July without sparklers?” she said.
She plopped down onto the empty chair.
“Did you bring a lighter?” Leesa asked.
“I was going to buy one,” Cali replied, “but then I thought, why bother? I knew Rave would be here, so why waste the money?”
She held one of her sparklers out to Rave. He glanced at Leesa, who shrugged.
“Go ahead,” she said.<
br />
Rave took the sparkler from Cali and held it close to his body. After looking around to be sure no one was watching, he touched the tip of his finger to the end of the sparkler. The stick immediately ignited with a flash of golden sparks. He quickly repeated the procedure with Cali’s second sparkler.
As soon as the second one ignited, Cali stood up and held the two sparklers up above her shoulders, waving them back and forth. Leesa was about to hand hers to Rave when Dominic laid his hand on her forearm, stopping her.
“Wait,” he said. “Focus your concentration on Cali’s sparklers. Get a good image of them.”
Leesa wasn’t quite sure where Dominic was going with this, but she did as he bid, concentrating on a visual of the golden sparks dancing from the end of Cali’s sparklers.
“Okay,” she said when she had the image firm in her mind. “Now what?”
Dominic looked up at Cali. “Cali, would you sit down, please. We do not want to be drawing any extra attention this way right now.”
Cali lowered herself into her chair and watched expectantly.
As soon as Cali was seated, Dominic leaned close to Leesa and spoke in a quiet voice. “Use your illumination spell on the tip of your sparkler. Whisper the words to yourself. It will not ignite the sparkler, but if you are successful, it will look like it is lit.”
Leesa stared at the wizard, surprised he wanted her to do magic in a public place like this. She knew if she did it right no one would notice, but what if she made a mistake? How would they explain that to anyone who saw? Maybe the added pressure was a test of some kind, or perhaps a way to try to prepare her for the dangers that lay ahead.
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