At the Behest of the Dead

by Long, Timothy W.

  I picked up the old ash staff and felt it thump in my hand. The wood felt like it pulsed as I studied it. It was old and it looked almost petrified. The heft was much greater than I had anticipated, and I wondered how it had come to be in such a state. If I had wiki loaded on a little smartphone, I would have been able to look up the petrification process in a heartbeat. Too bad my cell phone was older than my fashion sense.

  The staff, Salazar had said to look to the staff, but now that I had it in hand I wasn’t all that impressed. Was I supposed to do something with it? Unleash some mythical energy that would grant me the powers of a grand master? I scoffed at the thought. If I had that much energy at my command I would surely use it for ill, like changing into a giant condor so I could scare the shit out of Frank. Literally.

  I ran my hands over the warm surface but didn’t detect anything. I took a seat on the old bench and appraised the length of wood, intent on coming up with something. But I didn’t have a lot to go on. Fact number one: staffs are dumb. Warlocks hate them because they become a crutch for handling the power from the cusp. No self-respecting member of the guild would be caught wielding one.

  So why had Salazar possessed it?

  Fact number two: this wasn’t even wood. It was like a long chunk of stone that had been carved to look like ash, which was a special wood to warlocks. We used it in spells, extracted its essence for potions, and even imbued it from time to time as a power reserve. Warlock battery running dry? Grab your stash of ash and get right back in the game.

  Fact number three: the staff wasn’t really long enough to be a staff. If I tried to use it while walking, I would have to hunch over like an old man. It also wasn’t a wand because it was far too thick and heavy.

  This couldn’t be what Salazar had been talking about.

  I looked around the room, though I didn’t see any more staffs. I did, however, find an interesting space on a bookshelf. It was up high and bare of anything. The space was surrounded by tools, fetishes, books, and at least one small crystal ball with a claw gripping it from below.

  I studied the blank space and touched it. Now why had he left this area empty and the rest filled with relics from another age? I tapped the wood experimentally and was greeted with a hollow thump.

  I ran my hands over the space, but didn’t find an indent or a trigger. What I did find was the slightest of whorls that formed a tight little glyph. I traced it, muttered words. I tested the wood from underneath and even called it a few bad names, but nothing worked.

  Finally I took the short staff and laid it on the space. This was going to be it. The big reveal. A little genie was about to pop out of the wood and grant me three wishes.

  Nothing happened.

  Shit!

  I hit the shelf, which caused the things around it to shift around. A voodoo doll that was obviously a joke fell off its seat and hit the ground, causing me to gasp. Not at the doll but at the perch it had left behind.

  I slid the seat over to the space and then pawed through the other things. The crystal ball I’d eyed earlier turned out to be the second one. When I removed the useless sphere and dropped it near the voodoo doll, I knew I had the second part.

  I turned it over and found a familiar pattern. Sliding it around the wood surface, it finally clicked into place where I’d found the whorl.

  It took a bit of fiddling to figure out what the first part had been for. Nothing. When I balanced the staff on the wood, it held firm, like magic Velcro. I jumped off the steps and moved as far from the location as I could without leaving the room.

  I raised my arm to shield my eyes and waited for the detonation, or for swans to fly out of the wood. After a few moments, I lowered my arm and peered at the device. Had I somehow missed a trigger?

  I went back up the couple of stairs and studied the staff. One section sat lower than the other. I flipped the staff over, lined it up, and was already scrambling off the step when I dropped it in place.

  I was across the room with my hand raised again. This time I even hunkered down behind, if I wasn’t mistaken, the same desk I had hid behind the other night, when the demon was let loose. I was on my haunches for a couple of minutes before I gave up, stood, and walked back across the room.

  The staff was level and it was clearly meant for the space, but it was anything but volatile. I had expected chunks to fly in every direction, or for it to levitate and point the way. Maybe blast through the door and lead me to a hidden location. Perhaps it was a new element, for use in a hot rod pitchfork.

  But it just sat there and ignored me.

  Stupid staff.

  I took it down and immediately picked up on the pulsing once again. As I stepped down, my robe caught the upright hand and I yanked the stand off the top shelf. Already off balance, I peddled my legs but ended up on my ass anyway. Some inquisitor I was turning out to be.

  Slivers had broken off the false piece in the fall. Not just small pieces either but chunks.

  I picked it up, along with my pride, and limped to the workbench in Salazar’s office. There were tools, but I didn’t need them. In the corner of the room was a small anvil I’d used many times over the years. Warlocking wasn’t all spells and potions; sometimes we had to assemble items or components. This was not one of those times.

  I lifted the staff over my head and brought it down, full force, on the anvil. In the back of my mind I was concerned that the staff would rebound and nothing would really happen, except that I would have stinging palms and possibly a concussion when that pain in the ass, physics, made the force of my blow reverse, thereby (rightly) smacking me in the face.

  Now that I knew the stick was just a cover, I wasn’t all that worried about an explosion.

  Pieces flew in every direction as it broke apart. I got my arm up in time to prevent a fresh set of scars and possibly a lost eye. A few tiny chunks got in my mouth, but that was the only reward for my wanton destruction of a fake staff.

  At least I felt better now that I’d smashed the stupid thing. Nothing to see here folks. Time to call it a night and go home.

  Or was there?

  Under the desk, a small object glimmered. I dropped to my knees and picked it up with the sleeve of my robe in case it had cooties.

  “What in the world?” I wondered out loud.

  I’d seen some crazy things in my many years. A dozen warlocks trying to summon a demigod. That didn’t end well for anyone, especially the demigod who was brought shrieking into the world. The force of being ripped out of his reality was so strong that it shredded his being like he’d been drawn across a cheese grater. I’d seen an emerald the size of a fist that was once used as a focus to level a city. I’d seen Balkir take a vial of water, supposedly purchased from Ponce DeLeon, and pour the liquid down the drain rather than mess with something like immortality.

  As far as mythical objects went, this was kind of a let down.

  The object was a sheer prism about the size of the end of my pinky finger, and it glowed in the center.

  The door opened behind me. I spun around, palming the object, and sought a pocket that didn’t exist. Note to the inquisitors, you need pockets. Where do you carry your potions, accruements, and sack lunch?

  I was relieved to see Glenda.

  “Find anything?”

  “Yeah, a big neon sign that said ‘clue’ over in the corner. How did you guys miss it?”

  “Smart ass.”

  “Everyone likes a little ass,” I replied.

  She looked like she wanted to turn me into a frog, but I withstood the glare and tried not to shuffle my feet. Ah, what the hell, the chance of Glenda being on the wrong side was pretty silly. She was one of the few women I’d ever kissed and felt like it meant something special. If there was one person I could trust, besides Frank, it was her.

  “So nothing,” she deadpanned, and went to inspect the plywood over the hole in the side of the building. She ran her hands over it and I ran my eyes over the tight leather that covere
d her butt and molded to her legs. Thank you, leather.

  “I may have found something.”

  “Do you always make a mess like this during investigations?” She eyed the shards on the ground.

  I moved them around with my foot, shifting the pieces like I was making a weird puzzle. One of the larger chunks had an indent where the odd device had been sealed away.

  “Come take a look at this,” I said.

  “You’ve used that line on me before and I wasn’t impressed.”

  “That’s not what you said back then.”

  “I’ve had Lasik.”

  I extended my hand and held out the device. It pulsed ever so lightly to the beat of my heart. I didn’t catch on before but there was something about Glenda that always seemed to increase my pulse, and pretty much every other male’s whenever she entered a room.

  She took it and the light dimmed considerably.

  I picked up the largest of the chunks and inspected it. As I ran my finger over an edge, it flaked and crumbled. What happened to the nearly indestructible staff I had held a moment ago? Then I noticed the shape carved into the space. It was a glyph that explained a lot. The shape was an old and powerful one. I could spend a day perfecting the shape and it still might not work. The glyph was designed to change the properties of a shape. In this case, the inscriber, which had to be Salazar, had imbued the glyph and shaded the true nature of the rod.

  “It’s a key.” Glenda handed it back to me. “And unless I miss my guess, it opens something meant for you and only you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it flashes when it’s near you. When I took it the device went cold.”

  “Maybe you should get into the investigation game.”

  She smirked but didn’t answer.

  It was starting to make sense. If Balkir had killed my mentor to get a hold of this key, he would have needed me to open whatever it was meant for.

  “But he wanted the demon to kill me.”

  “Did he?”

  “Kill him!” I tried to sound angry and menacing, like Salazar did when the demon was in the room. “That’s what the man said.”

  “He probably just wanted your body.”

  “Kinky.”

  “Idiot.” She shook her head. “That demon was low caste. He could have possessed you and excreted your blood to claim the key without batting a flaming eyelid.”

  “It still doesn’t make any sense. I don’t even know what it’s for. The last time Salazar and I talked I was doing my walk of shame out of the school. The only times I’ve heard from him since were a few letters, but they were the ‘how are ya, give me a call sometime’ variety. Nothing about secret keys and another master wanting to kill him.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t leave some kind of hint? Anything in here look different, like a new painting or tapestry?”

  I looked around the sparsely covered walls. With the exception of a few non-descript paintings and one old tapestry, all of which had been in his possession for centuries, there was nothing new.

  “Nope. The only weird thing is the summoning station. It’s old but it’s had a make over and makes me feel funny when I get next to it.”

  Glenda moved to the tiled area and dropped to one knee with a creak of leather.

  “Look right here.” She pointed at a triangular impression.

  I moved closer but didn’t touch anything out of fear. The next time I hallucinated my way into hell, I hoped it was due to some really great pot. The whole falling into a pit of despair thing was overrated, based my experience a few minutes ago.

  “It looks like part of a rune,” I said.

  “Give me the key,” she said.

  I put it in her hand and waited, half fearful that when she figured out what it did a portal would open, unleashing armies of demons to devour us, the guild, and then the city. Or at least devour me. Both seemed very counter–productive to the state I enjoyed.

  Being alive.

  “I don’t think that’s it. It’s just a rune.”

  “You’re just a rune,” she muttered.

  I waited while she fiddled with the device. She pressed each end to the shapes, slid it along the edge, pressed, tapped, and finally she tried to slam it into the ground.

  “Let me try,” I said.

  Once the key was back in hand, it pulsed again. I studied it, turning it over and over, trying to figure out the power source. There was no glyph I could see, no etchings, and I didn’t feel the emanations of spells.

  It pulled at me, but gently, like a breeze. I let it guide me until my hand hovered over the triangle.

  I was jerked down and the key slid in. Not really slid. It was like the prism became liquid that could soak into stone.

  I shivered as something passed through me. A feeling of dread and then anger. I felt like I was falling. But this time I didn’t find myself descending toward a lake of fire. Nope, this time I actually fell down a set of stairs.

  When I reached the bottom, I felt like every limb had impacted with every single stair. Twice.

  I turned to curse them with a few choice words.

  Glenda made her way down the stairs like a fashion model. When she reached the bottom on both feet, she offered me a hand.

  A weird light suffused the area, but it glowed like it should be emanating from a set of fluorescents.

  “This isn’t here,” she said.

  “You’re not here.” Hah, take that.

  “Funny. No. This room. It’s not in the building. I’ve been in the labs below Salazar’s room and this is most definitely not here.” She looked around.

  “So this is a magic portal?” I scoffed.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Oh.”

  “Lets do some exploring.”

  We didn’t have to go far.

  The hallway was dry, which was unexpected. If you found a dark dungeon, you normally found water on the walls or running along the floor, pooling up and getting the hem of any long robes soaking wet before you’d gone more than a few feet.

  This was nothing like that.

  “This is so strange,” Glenda said as she ran her hands along the walls.

  “Yeah. What self-respecting dungeoneer allows a place to be this clean? There aren’t even any cobwebs.”

  I touched one too and found it warm, almost hot to the touch, but the hallway itself was cold. If I didn’t have the massive inquisitor robe on, I would probably be freezing.

  There was a single room straight ahead. When we reached the source of the brighter light, I could only stand in the entryway with my mouth gaping.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Glenda said as I preceded her into the room.

  “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “By putting your hands on stuff. Don’t do that.”

  “You didn’t use to complain about where I put my hands.”

  “Smart ass.”

  “Everyone likes a little …”

  “You already used that line once today. I swear you have brain damage after the transference.”

  “I hope you didn’t leave any of me behind!” I protested.

  “I didn’t have time to be that selective.”

  The room was a treasure trove of things I had wanted to see for most of my life. I stood in the doorway and stared at the artifacts in complete awe.

  “There’s so much here.”

  “We should go,” I said, but didn’t mean it.

  Glenda turned to regard me, and her upturned nose looked cute when she raised an eyebrow. All of a sudden all I could think about was her with Collin.

  “You look hot. If you are decent under that robe you could always take it off.”

  “Define decent,” I said, and took a bold step into the room. “I rock this robe commando-warlock style.”

  There was no way I was taking off the robe. If I had any sense, and luck, I would soon be departing the school with it.

  She didn’t answer bu
t followed me in.

  “Seeing anyone?”

  “How could anyone live up to you?” I asked.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” She smirked. Again. I hated that smirk and had always found a way to kiss it away.

  “Okay, I did meet someone, but she probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

  “Do you like her?”

  That was a good question. I had thought of Ashley more than a few times over the last couple of days. She was different than most of the non-arts dabbling women I had dated. She was smart, mature, had an easy sense of humor. It didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous.

  We moved around the room, not daring to touch anything.

  “I guess,” I said.

  “You sound absolutely thrilled about this girl. Send me a wedding announcement.”

  “Okay. She’s very pretty and she laughs at my jokes.”

  “Sounds like you’ve won half of the battle.”

  “But I don’t think she’ll see me again.”

  “Come on, Phin. Have a little confidence. Just chase her down, cast a glamour, and then wait until she really falls for you.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Don’t give up so easily. Girls like to be chased,” she said with the hint of a smile. The image of her and Collin once again came to mind and I had to look away for a few seconds.

  “It’s not that simple. I doubt she will see me again because I destroyed the place where she works.”

  “Interesting. In our day, you just gave me flowers and asked if I wanted to go to the lake. Remember that? You were terribly handsome back then. Now look at you. Dressed like an inquisitor and you need a haircut. Are you trying out for a goth band?”

  I ground my teeth together.

  Beakers, jewels, figurines, crystals, chests, small and large cups, goblets, and books lay everywhere. Some items were organized by size, but others made no sense. There was a statuette of a man next to a woman, like they should be holding hands, but the woman was far too tall, almost towering over the little guy so that her hand was on the same level as his head.

  A box of gems lay on a shelf, and when I looked right at them I got a splitting headache until I looked away. A golden cup lay among the mess, but I didn’t want to go near that thing. A vial hung from the wall with clear liquid in it. A splash of red, like blood, moved, almost languidly, around the confines of the container.