Resurrection

by Ryan Attard

  Chapter 13

  We sat at the back of a Denny’s. Abi cradled her coffee mug and was getting stares when her voice raised beyond a whisper, but she couldn’t care less.

  She didn’t care that she had entered the diner with half her gear still on. More than a little blood was splattered on her front. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. But one look at the server quelled any questions. Abi made her way to the most isolated booth and made me sit opposite her.

  “Tell me everything,” she said, just as the server took her order and gave her a look you’d only reserve for crazy people.

  Then Abi nodded at the server and the server left, too quickly.

  I told Abi everything that had happened to me. Everything from waking up in Samael’s dimension to getting summoned by Gil. I told her what had happened with Jeremy and where I had gone when she had banished me. I told her about Sun Tzu’s gift and how I could now see magic through Limbo.

  All the while Abi sat quietly, sipping her coffee. It still struck me as weird, how she could be so disciplined. The old Abi would have pelted me with question after question by now, but the new Abi let me speak. I could see her watching me. Even as a ghost, I knew I still had the same facial tics, the same traits I had had when I had been alive. That was what she was searching for—a sign that all this was a trick.

  I let her. I knew she’d catch me lying if I tried hiding something, so I told her the truth about everything.

  Finally, she spoke.

  “I should slap you for what you did,” she said. “You were ready to give your life for me. Don’t ever do that again.”

  I shook my head. “My life, Abi. I’m not letting anyone else die. Period.”

  “You’re an idiot.” Her lip trembled but she held herself back. “I would slap you if you weren’t a ghost.”

  “Bring me back to life,” I said, “and you’re more than welcome to.”

  She cocked her head.

  “Tell me you have a plan,” she said. “Because I know your sister doesn’t.”

  “What happened between the two of you?” I asked.

  “She became obsessed,” she replied.

  I raised my eyebrow. “Pot, meet kettle.”

  “This is different,” Abi retorted. “I kept your mission going. I fought for what you stood for. Gil lost sight of the big picture. She wanted to bring you back, not for the mission or a higher cause, but for herself.” She lowered her eyes. “I never forgot the real mission.”

  “You’re talking as if you’re a soldier.”

  “That’s because I am,” she shot back. “I’m the only one that’s left.”

  I sighed. “Maybe I should kick your ass for being so damn foolish.”

  “Get back to life,” she said, grinning, “and you’re welcome to.”

  Abi caught the server’s eye, made a signal, and ordered a second stack of pancakes and bacon.

  “You’re smiling,” she said.

  “Am I?” I said. “Maybe that’s because some things never change. You can still put away so much food.”

  “Have you seen these muscles, ghost boy?” she said. “It’s called bulking.”

  I chuckled.

  “Go ahead, Erik,” she said. “I dare you to make a fat joke.”

  “Hey, I’m not gonna argue with the results,” I said. “You were impressive out there. Frighteningly so.”

  The food showed up, a small mountain of calories which the server laid out in front of Abi and muttered something about enjoying her meal.

  Abi responded by demanding more coffee.

  “I had to get good,” she said, as soon as the server left, and she picked up her fork. In between mouthfuls, she continued: “It’s like you said: fighting for real makes you get better fast.”

  “And you had Sun Tzu,” I said.

  She nodded. “True. But you’re better. You keep it real. Sun Tzu kept trying to instill his peaceful crap in me.”

  “Whereas you just wanted to break something.”

  Abi chewed and swallowed. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Breaking shit is easy.” Her eyes went cold and even though I was dead, I still felt her bloodlust coming at me. “I wanted to calmly and methodically find evildoers and end them.”

  “Like an executioner.”

  “That’s what Sun Tzu said as well,” she said. “But no one seems to get it. If we let even one monster live, then their next victim is on us.” She lowered her eyes. “You’re not the only one who’s resolved not to lose anyone else.”

  She stabbed her food.

  “Look, I know you disapprove,” she said.

  “No shit,” I muttered.

  “But you’re dead,” she went on. “You’re gone, and even if you are here now as a ghost, there’s jack shit you can do to fight. So until you come back, we do this my way. If you want me to stop or go back to the way things were, if you want to lecture me, reprimand me, punish me, or even bench me, then you’re gonna have to come back to life. Until then, it’s my way.”

  I nodded. She had a point. Besides, she had survived. Yeah, I didn’t like it, and frankly it was a small miracle she hadn’t been killed yet, but she was effective.

  Like I said, you can’t argue with the results.

  “You got a deal,” I told her.

  Abi nodded and ate her bacon. When she looked up, her expression was hard and cold. The soldier was back on duty.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “I don’t have one,” I admitted. “Gil’s spell can make me inhabit a doll made from my DNA but she doesn’t know how to merge my soul back to my body. The doll is one of Akasha’s.”

  Abi didn’t even flinch at her name. “I figured she’d use Grigori resources. Gil is practically the only one that’s even remotely combat-effective. Certainly the only one that didn’t go into hiding.” She snarled. “Cowards.”

  Again, I didn’t argue with her. I wasn’t their biggest fan, what with ordering my execution as part of a ploy to steal them the Necronomicon—which ended up in Greede’s hands either way…

  Hang on…

  “That’s it,” I said. “The Necronomicon.”

  “Greede has that,” Abi said. “You’re thinking we can steal it.”

  “Is there a window?” I asked.

  “Fuck no,” she replied. “I’ve been a thorn in the Black Ring Society’s side, but trust me, I haven’t even made a dent. Greede is airtight and that book is off-limits. Besides, it’s not worth the risk.” Then she grinned. “And you don’t need it.”

  I cocked my head. “How so?”

  “Well, the Necronomicon is mostly about summoning Outsiders, which will eat you alive,” she said. “And the reason Gil can’t put you back in your body is because of the residual Life magic in your body. You had mutated before you died, and all that magic is still hanging around. Not even Gil can bypass it.”

  I spread my hands. “And? I’m not hearing a plan, just bad news.”

  She chuckled. “Good news is you don’t need the Necronomicon, or your sister. You need a Specialist, a Necromancer, one that pulled a Lazarus act—with your help,” she said. She sipped her coffee, enjoying the tension she was building. “A Necromancer like the one in Grigori custody, which you delivered to them.”

  I remembered him. If ever there was a human version of the word “dickhole” it was this guy.

  Remember when I said the Grigori had sent me to get the Necronomicon? Well, this guy was after it too. And he had zombies. Lots of zombies. You know how I feel about those.

  I swore. “I don’t like that guy.”

  “No one likes that guy,” Abi said. “But he is a Necromancer, and he survived being devoured by the book. He’s strong, and he’s your only viable shot right now, seeing as those cowards are currently in the process of moving him to a different facility.”

  I blinked at her several times. “How the hell do you know that?”

  “I hacked them several months ago,” she replied simply. “Just like
I did your sister.”

  “You hacked them?”

  “Welcome to the twenty-first century,” she said, setting down her coffee mug. “So, what d’you say? Wanna go break out a Necromancer and bring you back to life?”

  Chapter 14

  After her quick meal, Abi made her way back to the office and spread out a printout of the building on my desk. She remembered the basics—every good mission needed a plan.

  Sure, it usually all went to hell within minutes, but that didn't mean one just walked up to the bad guys and started making demands.

  Unless that was the plan.

  “No,” I said. “We’re not just gonna walk up to the mother-freaking-Grigori and ask them to hand over a prisoner. One that we gave them in the first place.”

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on being nice about it,” she said.

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  “Look,” Abi said. “They will be at their weakest just as they are loading the prisoner into the transport. I say, maybe a few explosives here and here, and then I go in.”

  “Abi, they are not the bad guys.”

  She shrugged. “Those who remain passive in the face of injustice are equally as guilty.”

  “That may be,” I said. “But we’re not killing them for that. Cowardice does not warrant a capital punishment.”

  “It should,” she replied darkly. “Think of the lives they could have saved.”

  She shook her head and made a show of sighing loudly in my direction.

  “Fine,” she said exasperatedly. “But this is gonna make it more expensive and more annoying, and certainly less fun, but I guess we can go the sneaky route. Memory loss perhaps? I can do that now. Little psychic attack, nothing too serious-”

  “And risk leaving them in a coma?” I retorted.

  “Hey, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a war,” she snapped. “And this Necromancer is your only shot of coming back to life.”

  “I don’t want any more deaths on my conscience.”

  “Well, too fucking bad,” she said. “Because you dying is what made this world go to shit. So let me bring you back, and then you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

  There was little arguing with that. And I had cut her a deal that until I was back, she would run the show. All I could do now was try to nudge her in the right direction, lead her down the least dangerous path, both for herself and others.

  “How many people are in the facility?” I asked.

  She cocked her head and checked her laptop. “Very few. Two squads of Knights, and Evans,” she replied. “You remember him: Akasha’s assistant.”

  Yeah, I remembered the two seconds I had spent in Evans’ presence. Or at least, his golem’s presence. The real Evans had never made an appearance, just his Goliath of a golem, that served both as the eighth seat within the Grigori, as well as Akasha’s personal bodyguard.

  “That golem will be tricky,” I said. “Immune to psychic attacks.”

  She grinned. “Let me handle that thing,” she said.

  “And what about the soldiers?”

  She shrugged. “I've faced worse odds.”

  “Abi, please call Jack,” I said. “Or someone else. Just call for backup.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “Come on,” I pressed. “He deserves to know.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “He deserves to know. Just like we deserved better from him. So no, I’m not trusting anything in the hands of a known coward.” Before I could retort she added, “But you’re right. And I know exactly whom to call.”

  I sensed his presence through Limbo before he appeared in real life in front of my office. Nothing could have prepared me for that… that…

  Power.

  Twice the size of the largest skyscraper, a supernova of light and mist coalesced together into something that could only be described as the sky coming to life. As it came closer, I saw different shapes within the elements that composed it: a thunderstorm, a pack of wolves, a feathered serpent, a cluster of masked men.

  Instantly, I averted my gaze from the centre mass. Something that large, something that powerful—you do not want to stare at it for too long. Some monsters you don’t forget. Instead, you just become more and more ensorcelled by their majesty, their otherworldliness, and by the fact that their existence shatters everything you once thought made sense.

  Magic came off it like tendrils of misty, billowy white. Tendrils might be the wrong word here. Billows, clusters, waves. This creature emanated power the same way a tornado emanated gales that swept away anything in their path.

  Ghosts and spirits that were unfortunate enough to stand before it were blown away and sent hurtling through Limbo. Wraiths that were dumb or hungry enough to approach it turned to dust long before they made contact.

  Finally, the monstrosity stopped next to me, and shrunk into the white silhouette of a massive wild man with the head of a wolf. Three red eyes glared at me before I was wise enough to turn away.

  I cannot describe the fear that came over me, despite knowing exactly what I was looking at. Instead, I plucked what was left of my courage and focused steadily on the real world, on being back in my office with Abi.

  The doorbell rung and both of us looked towards the door. Abi strode over to answer it.

  “Good morning,” came a smooth silky voice.

  The man standing there was tall, wiry, and dressed in an immaculate butler suit. His skin was dull and powder-white, almost sickly, while his expression was nothing short of vulpine. His long ebony hair was tied back with a ribbon of midnight blue and in his gloved hands he held a briefcase of dark brown leather.

  Mephisto traded smiles with Abi, while his yellow feline eyes searched for me.

  “Master Erik,” he said, stepping through the threshold into my home. “I heard of your return.”

  “Mephisto,” I said. His name threatened to make my stomach roil.

  Mephistopheles was Gil’s familiar, much like Amaymon is—was—mine. Brothers, both were demons, and both were extremely dangerous even by supernatural standards. Mephisto and Amaymon were also two of the four elementals, each embodying one of the four classic elements. Amaymon was Earth; Mephisto, Air.

  As you can probably tell, I didn’t like this guy. Amaymon always said that Mephisto was the weakest out of all of them, that his talents lay in strategy and manipulation, not battle—but I had seen what he could do. Back when my sister and I were still kids, he was our magic instructor. As monstrous as his demon form was in Limbo, I knew he was held back, both by his contract to my sister, and the fact that he had to condense his powers to exist on the Earth plane.

  I turned to Abi.

  “Him? You wouldn’t call Jack, you fought with Sun Tzu, but you’re pals with him?”

  Mephisto chuckled. “Are you having what you humans refer to as a ‘hissy fit’, Master Erik? I’m afraid we do not have the time.”

  “Shut up,” I snapped. “Does your master know you’re here, dog?”

  He hated being called that but Mephisto had the poker face to unmake all poker faces.

  “No,” he admitted. “As a matter of fact she does not. Nor will she know.”

  “Erik,” Abi said, “calm down. It’s not what it looks like.”

  “Well, it looks like you’re buddy-buddy with a demon who's just admitted to disobeying his contract with his master,” I said.

  That was extra worrying. Demons were bound to humans, but they obviously didn’t like that. Most would wait until their summoners ran out of juice and then tear them apart. Mephisto had been my father’s contract before he was passed on to my sister—and the way he had betrayed my father wasn’t by waiting or by fighting.

  He had found a loophole.

  Amaymon had assured me that it had never been done until that point in time. Mephisto was the only demon in existence smart enough to reverse a contract on itself.

  And now you can see why it didn’t sit well that
he, out of all demons, was here without my sister’s explicit approval.

  “Okay, yeah,” said Abi. “Maybe it is what it looks like.”

  “I am pressed for time,” Mephisto said, “so allow me to be as blunt as possible.”

  He looked at me directly and I was suddenly in his clutches. The air around me held me like a vice, weak enough to not be painful, but strong enough to be a threat.

  “Master Gil has become obsessed with your revival, Master Erik,” he explained. “Her mental state has deteriorated to the point of making her ineffective in her duties. This will not stand, not when I have been bound to uphold the Ashendale name. It therefore occurred to me that while she may possess the means to summon you from the great beyond, you would not manifest for her, but rather for your… apprentice.”

  Now Abi was giving him dirty looks. “You played me,” she said.

  “That is what I do,” Mephisto said coolly. “It was vital that Master Erik returned for the sake of Master Gil’s sanity. And in order to do that, you, my dear, had to remain alive at all costs.”

  “What did you do, Mephisto?” I snarled.

  He laid the briefcase on the coffee table and snapped it open. “These are the passcodes to the Grigori facility,” he said, handing Abi an envelope. “Feel free to use Master Gil’s ID as well. I’m sure you still have the one you forged last June.”

  Abi said nothing but I saw the corner of her jaw twitch.

  Mephisto peeled a layer of velvet off the briefcase. Laid neatly inside were several vials of clear liquid with just a slight purple tinge to the contents inside. A single injector rested beneath the vials.

  Suddenly it all became clear.

  This was how Abi had managed to keep herself alive, by juicing up her magic.

  I’m pretty sure ghosts cannot have panic attacks, but I was having one regardless.

  “No,” I said. “No, Abi, please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

  Abi shot Mephisto a dirty look. “This was supposed to be our secret.”