by J M Thomas
Without a ready retort, I turned and ventured into the hospital’s ambulance bay.
The air had a chemical bite and a slight chill that drove me to zip my sweater up a little farther. I asked for directions to where the paramedics who weren’t out on calls took their breaks. A nurse with dark circles under her eyes gave helpful guidance to the breakroom. Soon I found the signs leading me the last few turns in the hospital’s maze of corridors.
Sian Arcsburg greeted me with a wide grin, rising from his uncomfortable-looking bench to offer a strong handshake. He stood a little over six foot two, smoothing the wrinkles from his paramedic uniform and quickly straightening his hair.
“How can I help you out?” he asked as he led us toward a vending machine full of snacks.
“Hi! I’m Celeste Grantham, I'm the project manager of HarmonE’s meet-up app. I’d love to interview you about the dating service we had a few years back. Your name was on the list of people who tried out the beta run for us.” I couldn’t believe my luck that I’d connected with two of the original users. “I’m planning to update the interfaces and get it up and running.”
Sian nodded that he was listening while putting in a dollar and punching in the code on the machine. I realized, looking at the apple he’d just dispensed for himself, that I was still hungry. I hoped my stomach wouldn’t growl, regretting taco Tuesday’s crappy cafeteria food more than ever.
He grabbed the apple and turned toward me. His eyes widened a bit. “I’m so sorry. How rude of me!” He quickly put in another dollar. “What would you like?”
I wavered for a moment, feeling the awkwardness, but wanting to put him at ease. I smiled and picked a large oatmeal cookie. I followed him to the breakroom where a beaten-up table and a mismatched pair of folding chairs awaited us.
Sian extended his hand toward an empty chair, then took his own across from mine. He picked up a napkin and held the apple with it as he ate, letting any juice fall onto the paper rather than his hands.
Around bites of his apple, he answered my first few questions about life as an EMT: how often he went on calls each day, what that flashing light near the ceiling was for, some of the things he’d seen while on the job. “But I don’t suppose that’s why you’re here. How can I help you?”
“Well, I’m definitely interested in what you do, both on the regular side and the necromancy side.” I didn’t like how my voice still cracked a little when I said that word. He straightened in his seat for a second, then cocked his head and relaxed his elbows on the table.
“Paramedic isn’t exactly an unusual job.” Sian’s gaze flicked around the room, as if ensuring it was still empty before continuing. “Besides the day-to-day, I’m leading a development project. It’s a non-critical dedicated transport for things like elderly falls.”
He grinned and fingered the snake and wing necklace he was wearing. “As for the magic… I’m a licensed soul trapper. It’s not something I get to use every day. I did more of it when I got my on-the-job training overseas. Here, if I’m gonna use it, it’s to potentially save a life.”
What? That’s an actual thing? A licensed trapper of souls? Now I caught why Ethan had warned me to do some research before conducting more interviews. “I’ve never heard of that before.” I half-smiled as I put my pencil down and scooted forward. “Please don’t be offended by my interest here, but I really am fascinated by this. Do you mind telling me how all that works?”
“Sure! Well, I do my thing, and if the body can be revived within the timeframe, we can return the escaping soul. If not, I often let a reaper join me for the release, just to be efficient. Of course, we have to make sure oxygen keeps getting to all the organs in the process, but it’s usually a matter of blood loss in the cases I can help.”
He spread his hands. “There’s a whole checklist, but I won’t bore you with it. The point is, I’m very careful that everything is done correctly and with precision so people can see their loved ones again.” Sian gave his head a grave, slow shake. “If you don’t do it right, then you shouldn’t do it at all.”
I blinked twice. “So you… resurrect the dead?”
Sian gave a single, serious laugh. “Oh no, not resurrect. That requires God himself to intervene. We can’t mess with that. The best even a maiorem necromancer could do is reanimate a body, but that only works until rigor mortis sets in. The rest is soul binding and summoning magic.”
“Why not resurrection? You’re already bringing the dead to life.” I pursed my lips in confusion.
“Not really, not like that. Dead bodies decompose. Quickly, too. Magic might be able to move souls around a bit, but life…” His eyes took on a far-away yet pointed look. “Life itself is a powerful force. Until we can keep death from ripping it away, there are things even the most talented among us cannot do.”
Sian gave a resigned shrug. “The best I can do, personally, is keep myself from saying ‘so sorry, we could’ve saved him if only…’ to some sobbing widow or parent. Doesn’t always happen like that, but when I get to give that loved one back, it makes all the rest worth it.”
Unlike with the last interview, where I hadn’t wanted to know a thing about how Ethan did his work, I was immensely intrigued by Sian. I wanted to ask him how it worked, what kind of jar held souls, and how he could tell when someone could still be saved.
How far gone is too far gone? I stopped myself short, swallowing the question down again. I’d been warned about pressing into guild secrets, and I didn’t want my eagerness to mean another interview cut short.
Instead, I backtracked a little. “May… mayorim, you said?”
He let out a soft laugh. “Oh, yes, I suppose that’s industry talk. My apologies.” Sian steepled his fingers. “Magis luminare and maior magis are classifications. They simply mean ‘lesser mages’ and ‘greater mages.’ You’ll probably never meet a greater necromancer—it takes a combination of latent talent, a lifetime of training, and powerful attunement to achieve it. Even then, it paints a target on your back, so few of us even aspire to do it. Have to settle for lesser mages, I’m afraid.” He punctuated his words with a grin and a wink.
“Well, that’s still a lot of power.” I glanced at my notes. “Overseas—were you military, then?”
He nodded, leaning more heavily on his folded arms across the table. “This is back before the new Magus Corps was formed, so I was enlisted with the regular folks. Plenty of chances to trap a soul and try to save the body on the front line. Very few where it did much good.”
I wondered, looking over the lines in his forehead, the slight crinkles next to his eyes, how many of those were from nights he’d spent awake over all the things he could and couldn’t change. I wondered what kind of person the server would pair with a man like this—someone so assertive and orderly, but realistically accepting of his limitations and extraordinary ability.
I snapped my mind back to attention, straightening in my seat. “So, to take this back a little ways, what would you like the necROMANCE server to do for you that it hasn’t so far?”
Sian laughed, flashing his left hand and wiggling his fingers. “Nothing at this point.”
“Ooh!” I clapped a little, dropping my pencil at the sight of the simple, white gold band. “Who’s the lucky one?”
“Her name’s Trice, like Beatrice in Shakespeare. We had breaks at the same time for a shift, then I couldn’t help but work my break around hers when her rotation changed.” He gave another shrug, genuine happiness twinkling in his eyes and tugging at his grin. “We’ve been married about six months. Thinking about adding a little one to the mix, if my income is enough to let her stay home.”
“Well, I hope all your children are kind-hearted and caring like their parents.” I nodded, smiling back.
Sian took his apple core and deposited it into the correct bin before seeing me to the door. “I wish you the best of luck on your dating service. If you need some help looking over the user interface options, I have a knack for o
rganizing that kind of thing.”
I broke into a grin. “Thanks! I’m sure I’ll get there eventually. Right now, I just need to know what this thing needs to be to serve you guys, ya know?
“Sounds good.” Sian gave a little wave, then fished around his uniform pocket for a card. “Gimme a call if you need something.”
I accepted it gladly and offered him one of mine. “Will do. Take care!” As I headed out, I got the feeling he would. Sian would take care, just like he’d had the presence of mind to eat an apple with a napkin and separate the recycling. He’d discern where souls belonged and help them settle in their proper places. He was a good man with a good heart.
I’d been truly blind to how many kinds of people lived and worked around me, using talents I’d never dreamed were real to help people. For once, I felt comforted knowing there was a necromancer nearby. Heck, I might need him to have my back when I went outside and confronted the barrel of a man waiting to show me around.
I took a left in the hallway, nearly colliding with a man wearing a janitorial uniform. His stare seemed to follow me, so I glanced back and waved. “Sorry!”
His eyes widened, then he shook his head and headed back the way he’d come, disappearing around a corner.
Weird. I wondered if I’d caught him taking a break when he wasn’t supposed to. I wished I could’ve made that less awkward.
As I pushed the bar to open the door to the outside, the hairs on the back of my neck raised. I spun quickly, only for the man’s shaved head to disappear back around the corner. With a shove, I opened the door and strode quickly toward Aeron’s bike and my car.
The shaved man made like he intended to follow me out, then stopped when the open door revealed Aeron’s towering bulk. The man following me retreated the second it became clear wouldn’t be alone in the parking garage.
The shadows reclaimed him, and I escaped.
Chapter 6 – Who Cannot See
“How did you meet all these people?” I eyed Aeron incredulously, still trying to calm myself from the weird, stalkerish moment on the way out. He looked like he’d played statue the entire time I’d been gone, still leaning the same shoulder on the concrete wall. He stood with at-ease intensity, probably the closest thing he got to casual.
Aeron ignored the question, instead marching off in the direction of the main entrance without so much as a glance over his shoulder as he shoved his phone in his pocket. “Now, this next one, she don’t talk about ‘er magic in the workplace. So don’t go striking up a conversation until we’re alone, you got it?”
“Yeah.” I fell into step beside him, having to hoof it to keep up with his longer strides. “Are you a necromancer, too?”
He laughed bitterly. “Oh, no, Lessie. I don’t do black magic.” He stopped long enough to point a finger in my face. “And neivver should you.”
“Of course not.” I started following him and then stopped mid-step. “What did you just call me?”
“You ‘eard.” Aeron looped his thumbs in his jeans pockets, resuming long steps I had to scurry to keep up with.
Try as I might, I couldn’t decide whether he was provoking me or trying to be playful. “My name is Celeste.”
“You’re called Celeste, to be sure. You’re also called Lessie now.” With a brief pause, Aeron keyed in a code to unlock the door in front of us, probably halfway across the building from where I’d talked to Sian near the ambulance bay.
Whatever. It was a long walk to the other end of the hospital, so I tried my hand at some small talk. “Ya know, I went to a magic show once. It was boring. My friend said the magician was throwing lightning everywhere, but it was just an illusion.”
Aeron fixed me with a squint without breaking his stride. “And why’s ‘at?”
“Because all I saw was scorched wood, the lit bulbs, those kinds of things. I think I was at the wrong angle to see the lightning effect.” I looked over at my bear of a companion, who’d knit his brows together. He maintained his stony silence until we’d navigated the maze of doors, corridors, elevators, and stairwells leading us to our destination.
It was the part of the hospital patients and guests never saw. The upper wings weren’t just filled with life and bustle, they were filled with care. Below the stations of nurses bringing medicines, changing bedding, and checking vitals, lay the empty halls. These were conference rooms and equipment closets, the sad structural bones of the place.
If this building was an organism, I found Aeron leading us into the aching legs and tired feet that suffered from supporting the constantly-shifting movement of the institutions above it. He looked strange knocking on the curtained glass pane of an office door, right up until someone opened the door and greeted us as if it was an apartment.
A noise down the hall caught their attention. The door shut again.
Aeron nonchalantly turned and leaned against the wall. A passing guard gave us a long sideways glance, eyeing Aeron up and down before moving along. After a couple minutes, the door opened from within again, and a nurse let us in.
The overhead fluorescent bulbs gave off an irritating hum, and one flickered a little. That little quiver of light set the atmosphere on edge, though we were literally hanging out in what might’ve once been an office, but was now a large closet half full of boxes and broken gurneys.
Aeron gave me a funny look, and I couldn’t quite figure out why. It was as if he expected me to notice something he saw plainly. Try as I might, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to be seen.
The nurse looked to be in her early forties, with dyed hair grown out and greying at the roots. I bet she’d only taken last-resort care of herself in occasional spurts. She seemed tired, but bustled about the little room, straightening things. She struck me as someone who didn’t like to be without something to do or someone to take care of.
“I’m Marla Ormsby,” she said, welcoming us in with a confident, yet weary grin. “Aeron called earlier, said you’d be coming by.” She offered me a strong, yet distracted handshake. “How can I help you guys?”
We’re meeting in a closet. What possible normal question could I have? Finally, I landed on the small talk that’d worked well for me with Sian and Ethan. “I’d love to hear what you do at the hospital, for starters!”
“I’m a NICU nurse by day. I care for the little ones as they grow until they’re well enough to send home to their families.” She gave a sweet smile. “One of my long-term babies just accepted an increased feed. We threw her a little party to celebrate. We celebrate every time a tube comes out and party when a little one gets to go home.”
My heart felt like it’d been hugged. “That’s amazing! And how does your magic work with that?”
In the corner, Aeron cleared his throat and looked off to the side, putting one foot up on a black mini-fridge. I got the distinct impression I’d committed a horrendous blunder.
Marla pretended not to wince. She looked like she was obviously trying to see how she could dance around the question. “I would give anything to have another way to help the babies besides what I do as a nurse. But I’m only a speaker, so all I can do is commune with departed souls.”
She shook her head. “I’m the only one here who does what I do, and we lose so many babies. It’s all on me to help them. But I never complain! What I do is probably the most important thing any necromancer can do: keep caring for the innocent little souls when no one else can.”
Wow. I jotted furious notes. I knew so little of these people—and this lady seemed to be doing the work of four people. No wonder she’s exhausted! Equal parts fascinated and afraid of opening my big mouth out of turn again, I nodded for her to continue.
She flashed a sad smile as she sat heavily on the broken gurney. “But with babies, they don’t need me to be powerful or rare. They need someone who will sing to them, who will calm them and gently let them know it’s okay on the other side. Us nurses work crazy hours monitoring them more than their own parents while they ar
e alive, and then…” She bowed her head.
I leaned in, wishing there were some way I could lighten her burden a little. “You talk to the souls of the little ones who… don’t make it?”
She seemed to want to shake her head and nod at the same time. “Sing, mostly, and play. They’re generally terribly confused, poor dears.” Suddenly, she brightened, reaching for something in a drawer.
“I bought a wonderful little enchanted flute so they could hear the music, and I learned some lullabies just for them. Their souls follow me to this room where I care for them, reassure them, and remind them that they’re loved. Then, when the time is right, they’ll decide to move along into the other world.”
Marla gave a maternal smile. “That’s really most of what any baby needs, really—just to know they’re loved.” Her eyes hardened into a pointed look now, as if she was ready to fight anyone who dared say otherwise.
This nurse could almost be the kindest person I’d ever met. That said, I didn’t know what to make of her spending her breaks in this tiny room. I glanced at Aeron for some kind of help for another question. But his expression was as impassive as ever. He leaned against the only wall without boxes stacked shoulder-high.
What to believe? Should I accept that this room was somehow filled with the invisible souls of this hospital’s unfortunates? With this nurse believing she’d led a bunch of baby souls down here, and hung out in a closet playing the flute for them?
Either way, there wasn’t a great segue into the next question on my list, so I just asked it outright. “What features would you love for a dating service to have, to better serve your needs?” I felt silly asking, with how weighty the conversation was.
Marla considered this, idly tapping a rhythm on the flute in her hand. “I don’t think there’s anything I’d need.” A heavy sigh leaked from her like she was deflating. “With all these babies clamoring for my attention, there really is no time to add someone else to care for right now. But it would be so darling to have someone to just sit and talk to me.”
