by c a king
“Thank you,” the man cackled wildly. “That’s exactly what I hoped you would do. Remind me to give you top marks in my class, if we both make it back to the academy, that is.”
Makayla’s lips turned down, brow furrowed. “Professor Woolly, is that you? What are you doing here?”
“Oh dear, you’ve found out my secret. Whatever will I do?” The potions teacher walked the perimeter of the circle she’d poured out, making sure not to break any lines or cross the magical barrier.
Makayla reached for her head, feeling her consciousness wavering. Her lips were poised to yell one word: run. There was no need for it; Frankie was already gone. “I’m not playing along.” One foot lifted, stopping mid-step before a bolt of energy seared through her, sending her flying in the opposite direction. “Back on the ground again,” she mumbled.
“You can’t leave,” Woolly announced. The absence of a maniacal laugh left her shivering. “I switched the potions. The one you scattered was a creation of my own, you see.” He leaned toward the ring. “It keeps you in one place.”
“Why?” Makayla cried out. “How could you have known I’d be here? None of this makes any sense.”
“Pull yourself together,” Woolly chuckled. “You are a seventh born child, after all. The power is there for your taking. There is no need for foolish questions. Awaken your mind and accept the answers that simply are.”
Makayla’s eyes darted back and forth. “The mark on your hand.”
“Very good,” Woolly praised, holding out his arm. The oval shape in the middle of a triangle of skulls opened. An eye blinked at her several times. “My strength lies in sight, both of this world and the next. That means I pretty much know all. Every move you make. Every...”
“Don’t say it,” Makayla pleaded, shaking her head. “This isn’t a rock concert.”
Woolly ignored her... “Breath you take.”
“I get it already,” Makayla complained. “You’ll be watching me. Perhaps we can move on to the next topic... like why you are following me.”
“I’ve already told you, my dear,” Woolly announced. “You really should pay better attention. You are one of us. I want you to take your rightful place... join your brothers and sisters.”
“No,” Makayla answered, a scowl forming over her normally wrinkle-free complexion. “Necromancy has been outlawed. It is illegal.”
Woolly chuckled. “One cannot simply destroy an entire branch of magic, especially one which has been around since the beginning of time.” An unnerving grin twitched in the corners of his mouth. “Oh yes,” he cooed. “I think you are beginning to see.”
“It’s a dead branch of magic,” Makayla replied.
Woolly howled a laugh. “Bringing things back from the dead is what we do.” His hood fell off his head, exposing his burning gaze. An amber glow warmed her soul, but the orange and red dancing flames within it threatened to burn any flesh it came too close to.
“Grave diggers will stop you!” Makayla snapped; her hands latched on to the stone marker behind her.
“Now who is looking to a dead branch of magic for a miracle?” Woolly snickered. “There aren’t enough grave diggers left to oppose us. Join me.” He held out one hand, far from the circle’s edge.
“I can’t leave the circle, remember?” Makayla mused.
“If our hands connect, our combined abilities will make any damage to either of us negligible,” Woolly explained, inching slightly closer. “Trust me.”
“You can’t come inside the circle anymore than I can leave it,” Makayla mused. “I’m completely safe from you in here.”
“You won’t think that in a minute,” Woolly yelled. “Take my hand, you foolish girl. Your power is not one to be wasted.” A stream of fire exploded from over her shoulder, flames engulfing his arm. “Damn!”
“Puffer!” Makayla exclaimed.
“The dragon,” Woolly scoffed, “I have to admit it is an unusual and impressive helper, but a baby is hardly a match for me.”
“You are a grave digger instructor,” Makayla said. “You must have a helper of your own. Where is it? Did it leave you because of what you are?”
“Silly child,” the professor cackled. “Of course I had one. It made a nice sacrifice, too, as will yours. That’s all it takes you see: a blood offering to seal the deal and embrace your destiny.”
“That’s why you didn’t say anything about my ingredient list,” Makayla shrieked. “You wanted me to use real bat blood. It would have changed me and I’d never have known.”
“Indeed,” Woolly replied. “Drawing the amount you needed would have killed poor little Boris in the long run. Oh, not at first. Bats are odd like that. He would have survived several days before kicking the bucket. It probably would have been quite painful, too. If Mary Meet hadn’t stuck her nose in at the last minute, you’d already be by my side.” He paused. “What do you say we get on with it? The dragon...”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Makayla cried. “What purpose could you possibly have?”
“Can you think of none?” Woolly scoffed. “Your mind is brilliant, after all. You bear the mark to prove it.”
Makayla grabbed at her side, the unsightly birthmark burning. The crystal ball pendant swung freely, red mist still swirling inside. The longer she gazed into it, the clearer the answers became. “You’re looking for something—desperately seeking an object of power.” Her head tilted up, their gazes meeting. “It’s Ageis’ stones you want. But why?”
A flash of grey flew by, knocking the professor off his feet. “Two helpers,” he snapped. “And a gargoyle at that. How resourceful. It won’t matter in the end.” His lip curled upward, forming a nasty scowl. “They’ll both be dead in the long run.”
“Gargle!” Makayla screamed. “Take Puffer and go. Get as far away from here as you can.” Her life was in danger. That didn’t mean all three of them needed to endure the same fate. “Hurry.”
The gargoyle glanced between necromancer and grave digger, nodding his understanding. With Puffer safely scooped in his arms, he swooshed off, disappearing into the fog.
“You’ve stopped nothing,” Woolly bellowed.
“They are both safe,” Makayla argued. “That’s all that matters. Not to mention the fact you don’t have a sacrifice to turn me with.”
“Turn you?” Woolly howled a laugh that brought her to her knees, hands covering her ears. “This is no vampire trick. You were born into greatness. It’s in your blood. There is no escaping your destiny.”
“I won’t,” Makayla blurted out.
“Then die!” Woolly yelled, tossing off his cloak.
The ground beneath her began to rumble. Something was rising.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The door creaked open, the twins stammering in, after being given a helping push on the back. “I found these two sleeping in their room,” Ms. Moth exclaimed. “They both claim they were there all day.”
“Thank you,” the headmistress answered, unimpressed by the sight and state the two students were in. “Iggie. Sven. Have you been outside today?”
“No,” the two replied in unison.
“Have you seen any of your other classmates?” Headmistress Meet continued. “Any at all? Perhaps wandering a corridor?”
“None,” Sven answered, being the more talkative of the pair. “As we both already said, we were sleeping.”
“That’s not true,” Thomas blurted out. “We saw them out by the grave digger shovels. They were there with Frankie.”
“Lies,” Sven said, his tone as emotionless as his expression. “We do not follow Frankie around as a puppy the way this one does with his girl.”
“I’m no puppy!” Thomas exclaimed, exchanging glances with the others in the room. “Okay, maybe I am, but that doesn’t change the fact we both saw you.” He gulped back, seeing the accused square their broad shoulders to him.
“Your word against ours,” Sven announced. “What do you call that in your l
anguage? Ah, yes... a standoff.”
Mary Meet’s fist came down on her desk. “Enough bickering,” she declared. “We’ll wait for others to be gathered and then put the pieces together.”
“This room will be a wee bit crowded if we bring everyone here,” Ms. Moth suggested.
“It will,” the headmistress agreed with a sigh. “Concentrate on finding Frankie and Makayla. They seem to be at the centre of everything.”
“They aren’t inside,” Ms. Moth replied. “I’d have found them by now if they were. I have another group in the library.” A sheet of paper floated through the air, landing on the desk. “That’s the list of names. There are a few noticeably missing.”
“So there are,” the headmistress agreed, scowling at the paper. “It seems there may be more to this story than I was willing to admit.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Tallen said, peering around the open door. “I wasn’t able to find any students outside.”
“What about Leo?” Thomas blurted out. “We left him by the shovels. He was quite beside himself that he couldn’t get one to work. He must still be there.”
“There was no one in any of the hallowed patches,” Tallen ascertained. “I checked them quite thoroughly. Nor is there any indication they have been used recently.”
The list of names crumpled in Mary Meet’s hands, turning to dust. “No footprints?” She moved to the window, glaring down. “Are you quite sure?”
“Not one,” Tallen replied.
“Ms. Moth, please escort these students to the library to rejoin their class,” the headmistress requested.
“But we were there...”
The headmistress held up one hand, instantly silencing Cali. “I believe you. Someone has gone to an awful lot of trouble to cover things up. In doing so they erased what should have been present. A number of students used the patches today. I even witnessed one such group myself. For there to be no footprints is impossible.” She turned from the window. “Ms. Moth, remain with the first-years to see to their safety. I’ll send for you when I have some answers.”
“What should I do with them?” Ms. Moth asked.
“Perhaps a lesson on school rules would be in order,” the headmistress scoffed. “It seems our latest acquisitions didn’t get the memo on that particular subject.”
“It would be my pleasure.” The instructor bowed before ushering the students out of the office.
“What do you think is going on?” Tallen asked.
“I don’t know,” the headmistress admitted, turning back to the window. “I don’t think this is all about a mere a bet over who could reach town first, though. Send a message to the Crones.”
“The Crones,” Tallen echoed. “Are we sure this is serious enough to involve them? They are first-years...”
“Exactly the dilemma!” the headmistress exclaimed. “They never should have been able to leave the grounds and certainly not by grave digger shovels. No... there is something bigger happening, and I’m afraid it’s at least partially an inside job.”
“You don’t suspect one of the staff, do you?” Tallen questioned. “We’ve all been here for years.”
“Staff, student, an imposter... it doesn’t make a difference,” the headmistress said. “Someone erased those footprints. Whoever is to blame is inside these walls right now. That much we know. I expect, in the coming hours, things will become clearer. Off with you. Send the message, asking officials to search the cemetery on the outskirts of town. Hopefully they arrive in time.”
“In time for what?” Tallen asked.
“To save the day,” Mary Meet answered. “To save the day.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Balance! It wasn’t the easiest thing to master. Makayla glanced down at the moving ground, mounds pushing up then falling back down. A part of her wished she’d taken those surfing lessons a few family trips ago. Her arms extended out from her sides as she rode each wave as it came and went. That was the easy part. Eventually something was going to break free from the grave—then she’d be in real trouble.
A hand was the first to appear, tissue rotting and falling off bone. The overwhelming scent of decay hit her head-on, watering eyes blurring her vision. Makayla wasn’t by any means squeamish—a true horror fan through and through. This, however, brought things to a whole new level. No one woke up with the expectations that, by the end of the day, they’d be trading blows with a zombie, even if they were a grave digger.
No weapons! That was a mistake. At least one or two should have been stuffed in her backpack. She glanced around, desperately seeking a stick or other object. Her luck held true; she found none. The only thing in the circle with her was the person who was buried some time ago, and their grave marker. Her head snapped back, staring at the heavy stone.
She planted one foot squarely in the reverse side of the marker continuously until it began to wobble. Makayla threw all of her force into one final kick. The stone fell forward just as a skull, with the stingy remains of what once was hair, emerged from the earth, landing squarely on top of the corpse. She peeked over the rubble. Only a hand clenched tightly around a dirt-encrusted stone was left moving.
A stone! Makayla plucked it from the icy grip of the dead, brushing off the dirt. Red. With only a light brushing, the colour of the rock shone through. Her gaze alternated between the stone and Woolly. “This is what you really want, isn’t it?” Her hand raised high in the air, a smirk forming on her face. “You can’t get it.”
“Leave no stone unturned,” Woolly mused. “It would appear you have the... upper hand.” He chuckled at his own puns.
“From where I stand, I’m the only one who should be laughing,” Makayla snickered. “I have all the cards.”
“Not so fast,” Woolly said, pacing. “You’ll soon see that little rolling stone trick won’t last. You can’t kill the dead, at least not with brute force. Even if you could, look around. There is an army of corpses at my disposal. They have no boundaries on hallowed ground, at least not that can be blocked with the potion you spread about.”
Black glitter showered down on the circle. “Boris!” Makayla exclaimed, glancing up at the sky.
“Looks like I’ll be taking that stone sooner than anticipated. Remind me to thank the headmistress for having her bat erase the magic for me,” Woolly snapped, lunging forward. Boris blocked his way, fluttering wings batting at his eyes.
Makayla ran, but not before calling Boris to join her. The bat followed, latching on to her sweater. Making a break for it was the only option, but that didn’t make it logical. She had no idea where she was or which way led out of the cemetery. The only bearing to go by was the old Necromancer’s Academy. She needed to be anywhere but there.
The lights she’d seen earlier made sense now. Woolly must have been using the closed campus as a base, maybe even recruiting others there to join in whatever sinister plans he had hatching. A glance down at the red crystal sent shivers racing faster than her heart. In her hand she held the power behind his maniacal plot. There was no way she was letting it fall into evil’s grasp.
“Which way?” Makayla muttered, not expecting an answer.
One of Boris’s wings extended, directing her to turn. Footsteps were closing in on her heels. There was no time to lose. Then she saw it: the fence. Beyond the wrought iron posts was the road she was looking for. There the fog had lifted, if it ever existed at all. She grabbed a hold of two black bars, shaking with all her might.
The breath of the enemy formed an icy cold chill on her neck. He was close. She turned; her back pressed tightly against the fence. There was no way out and nowhere to go. Boris took flight, leaving her to her own defences. No one could blame the bat for that. She was a lost cause.
“End of the line,” Woolly chuckled, his breath laboured from the chase. “Why don’t you hand over that rock?” He inched closer, hand outstretched. “It’s in your best interest. I can see your struggle. You know I offer you the path you are destined to f
ollow. It’s in your blood.”
“No,” Makayla disagreed, shaking her head. “I might be a seventh born, but I am nothing like you.”
“Who are you trying to convince?” Woolly asked. “You can feel the draw. It’s natural. Your great-grandmother was a superb necromancer.”
“You are lying,” Makayla blurted out.
“I’m not,” Woolly said. “Her pendant seems at home around your neck. Why do you think that is?”
Makayla weighed her options, glancing from side to side. She couldn’t run without direction forever. He had her pinned. A shadow drifted behind the professor. She hadn’t put two and two together before, but now it was obvious. Spirit and its necromancer had formed a united front. They were coming for her.
“You didn’t actually think a first-year student, a bat, a young gargoyle, and a baby dragon could defeat us, did you?” Woolly mused.
Flames rained down, blasting straight through the shadow. It dissipated on contact, leaving man to do its bidding. Flesh was no more a match for fire. “What is this trickery?” Woolly bellowed, tossing his cloak to the ground. Several heavy stomps were unable to douse the blaze.
“In your synopsis you forgot one very important detail,” Makayla snickered.
“And what would that be?” the professor scoffed. “Do enlighten me.”
“That where there is a baby, usually the parents aren’t far behind,” Makayla’s pointed upward. “Mama dragon is pissed.”
“This isn’t over,” Woolly snarled, turning to exit in a puff of his own smoke.
The breath she was holding came out in one large huff. Makayla keeled over at the midsection, her heart racing. She’d dodged a bullet this time. The gun was still loaded, though. When it would fire again was anyone’s guess.
Her helpers fluttered down, one landing on each shoulder. “Do you know the way back?” Makayla asked. “I’ve had enough of cemeteries for a while.” She shoved the rock into a pocket, fastening it closed with a zipper. It was safe for now.
Puffer flapped his wings, motioning upward. A grave digger shovel fell from the sky, landing at her feet.
