At the Behest of the Dead

by Long, Timothy W.

  I should have dove for it or ran until I reached tomorrow, but things were different now. I saw the glyph for what it was. I saw the thread that connected it to the cusp.

  So I snipped it.

  The ball of flame ran out of steam and faded to nothingness before it had rushed even half the distance.

  “No!” he howled and tried again.

  “Rend!” I said, because nothing else made sense.

  The power was there and it was real. It was all consuming, and I thought that I could obliterate this ward with it.

  “Careful!” the apparition of Salazar yelled as it dropped from somewhere high above. “Do not use too much.”

  “What is too much?” I laughed and cast a howling banshee of flame back at Balkir. The whirlwind rose from the black ground and tore chunks of stone as it moved. They swirled in a hazy miasma that ripped apart everything it touched. Demons large and small tried to get out of its path but couldn’t move fast enough.

  Balkir rose into the air encased in some kind of opaque ball and avoided the path of the whirlwind, so I simply told it to pursue. The force swept up and followed.

  He landed some ways to my right, so I walked toward him. I pulsed with power and let it bleed forth as I stalked him. Wisps of lambent energy surrounded my form, flickering in and out of existence. I wanted him to know fear. I wanted him to piss in his robe and beg for mercy. He would get none, but I wanted to hear the words anyway.

  A force of winged demons rose from the lava pool and intercepted my banshee. They went down screaming, but took the force out of my flaming tornado.

  “This changes nothing!” Balkir screamed and gestured. His hand, covered in a glyph of some sort, blurred. His form was close behind and became corporeal. Oh no, he wasn’t getting away that easily.

  I also gestured, a call to the pool nearest Balkir. Lava responded by rising into the air and coating the area where he’d stood. A new shape appeared where Balkir had been. The monstrous demon with the broken horn and missing ear. Balkir slid into him as if slipping behind a curtain. If that wasn’t the ultimate charlatan trick then I didn’t know what was.

  “Rend!” I howled again and cast another banshee at the shape. It was so effortless, like the simplest of spells made real. There was no struggling with components or words. I simply drew on whatever Salazar had let loose in my head and the power responded.

  I waited for the demon to be immolated, but it shrugged through the onslaught and strode for the pool.

  I gestured again, knowing the motion of my hand had no effect on the powers I was wielding, but like any warlock worth his salt I was also a showman. The pool rose at my command and became a wall of lava. I told it to solidify but quickly realized my mistake. I had no other elements to call upon. No water or ice to hasten its cooling. The air was there but the two weren’t generally friends. I could accelerate it to hasten cooling but it would take a long time.

  The demon stepped into the wall and sank. I howled in fury as its head turned to regard me. Eyes darker than the floor bore a calculating look into me as they joined the flame and slid below the surface.

  I ran to the edge of the pool, determined to somehow pursue.

  “Stop!” Salazar called. I turned to see where he was and found him kneeling, one hand on the floor, the other gesturing for me.

  “Salazar!” I yelled and rushed to his side only to learn that he wasn’t really there. I reached for him but his form had no substance.

  “How is this possible?” I asked.

  “My body is gone but I remain in a weakened state. We understand so little about this place and you must learn it or it will also consume you.”

  “But I’m so powerful here. I can help you come back.”

  “Do not! If you try I fear it will truly end me. I have only the barest of links to the world of men and would be nothing if dragged to the other side.”

  Even as I considered ways to return my teacher to the other side, I gasped as the pressure in my head popped. Power had been everywhere. I had been consumed with it, reveled in it, but now it was fading. I lashed out and grabbed at more but it was useless. Like trying to grasp a waterfall with only my hands.

  “Go!” he yelled. “You must return and do as I have asked. You are not ready for this, but it was either awaken you or watch you die. You have no inkling of the true nature of what it means to be a child of the cusp, so you must return and learn all you can. There are books in the room, but they will be of only moderate use.”

  “I can go after him!”

  “You cannot. That one has learned a very dangerous trick and there is little you can do to stop him. He has learned the art of possession, but not as we understand it. He can take over a demon and control it. That was how he killed me and how he plans to destroy the league. Return, gather an army, and then learn how to destroy him.”

  “I don’t even know how to get out of here.” I sat by Salazar’s form and watched the lava pools recede, as if pulled from far below. The air still blistered with their heat, but I was beyond such things. For now.

  “The cusp, go to it. You are born of it and can feel its calling. We are close now. You cannot go far in the ward, not in human form, and that is what makes Balkir so dangerous. He has reached the second ward but he may plan to go even farther. He must be stopped.”

  “Why, Salazar? Why has Balkir done this? He was always power hungry, always wanted to be in control of the league, but I find it hard to believe he would wish to usher in its destruction no good reason other than for the thrill of the kill.”

  “He has long lusted for control, but he was so quiet and secretive. I would tell you more but the league can do that. Ask them. Go now. Go!”

  “Will you be all right?”

  “Yes, now go before I drill another hole in your head.”

  More of the power bled away and my body become heavier.

  “One way. That’s how it works, right?” I said, gesturing in the direction of the cusp.

  “For most. Not for you. It will obey, but you must go before the lassitude sets in. Go, my friend.” He faded. “Return to the room. Visualize the portal and go to it. Visualize it with all your being!”

  Come back Obi-Wan, I wanted to howl, but the apparition was gone. If being a master necromancer meant I would be able to one day escape the confines of my body and drift, like a ghost, like so many of the dead I had hunted down through the years, I wanted to find a new following.

  I clenched my fists and let out a keening howl as Salazar faded from sight. His form was there one moment, the next he vanished and the obsidian he had knelt upon held no trace of my former teacher.

  “Please,” I begged, but I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for.

  I collapsed as energy continued to be leached out of my body by my environment.

  I sat and thought of Salazar’s room, focusing on its dimension and shape. I thought of the summoning stone and the runes that surrounded it. I focused on them and opened myself to the glyph that had unlocked my mind. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ancient rune manifested itself and I fell into it.

  Then I hit the stairs to the room I was supposed to guard, and once again tumbled down every single one.

  **

  I would like to say that the next day was roses and puppy dogs. That I was rescued, taken to a hospital, and given top-notch care.

  It was not.

  I was shivering in the dark, dressed in the remnants of my inquisitor robes, and wished I could simply die. I reached for the cusp and managed a trickle. That was enough to ask the air for a little bit of help, so it obliged by warming up around me. I dozed for a few hours then roused myself and staggered down the hallway.

  I managed to make it to the room I was to guard and pulled myself up into the chair that Salazar used to sit at. I gazed over the stacks of books and shifted a few around. My eye fell on one in particular and I picked up the slim tome.

  The title had long faded, but as I flipped through its pages I fou
nd that there was a great secret contained within. Something that I would be able to use. I slipped the tome inside my robe.

  The little fish man I’d seen earlier stared back at me and smiled again. I waved and he shimmered in the water and did a little back flip. They he raced around the vial like he was trying to tell me something. This time I slipped him into my robe next to the book.

  The next five minutes were agony as I dragged myself up the stairs and managed to open the gateway.

  I hid in Salazar’s old room for the day and mixed every curative I could think of and tossed them back with a grimace. I found a salve on a shelf and hoped it had been created in the last century. After moping around, feeling sorry for myself, and generally buzzed on the shit I’d swallowed, I mixed up a proper flight potion.

  Flying was much easier this time. Without my fork I had little hope of making it home, so when I was a few miles from the guild I dropped to the city and hailed a taxi. The driver looked me over but didn’t kick my sorry ass out.

  “You okay, man?”

  “My wife hates my cooking.” I mumbled, gave him my home address, and slept all the way home.

  When I finally opened my front door, it was to the sound of my phone ringing.

  “One beat warlock incorporated. I can’t help you today.”

  “Phineas?” It was Ashley.

  I stared at the phone for a few seconds and tried to organize my thoughts.

  “Uh hey ya.” I said. One of my wittier lines, if I do say so myself.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

  “Ashley,” I said. Brilliant.

  “If you’re trying to brush me off, that’s fine. I just wanted to apologize for acting so weird the other day. Okay then, I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Wait, Ash. I’ve had a rough couple of days. Really rough. I’m happy …” then the phone cut out.

  “Hello, Phineas. Do you know who this is?”

  “You are such a pain in the ass, Balkir. Didn’t I kick your ass enough last night?” His voice sounded hollow, like he was in a giant room yelling into a phone. How was he doing this?

  “A minor setback, I assure you. As to the woman you were speaking with, I think I will pay her a visit.”

  “Balkir, I think you’ve been smoking too much brimstone. We both know you are trapped in the wards and I’m the only key out. The problem is that I am free and on this side of the cusp. So listen, buddy. Why don’t you go find a nice tall demon named Sally and let him butt fu--”

  “This is not over. Not over by a long shot.”

  “You got that right because I’m about to do something you’d never expect.”

  “Die quickly?”

  “Does this sound like a phone hanging up?”

  I tried to *69 Ashley but got a bunch of clicks and buzzes and assumed it was the phone company actually trying to call back into the hells. If he’d called me he must have had some kind of agent on this side. It was the only thing that made sense.

  I dug through my things, looking for the number Ashley had given me a few nights ago. I found it in one of the robes I’d marked for incineration and gave a little hoot of joy.

  Curatives swirled around my gut and balms did their best to stitch me together, but I was a mess. I really needed to sleep for about thirty six hours then go finish kicking Balkir’s ass.

  I touched the cusp again and found a pool of power to draw on. I breathed it in and reveled in the flow.

  Then the doorbell rang. Not now. I needed to call my girl and apologize profusely then figure out how to get her some flower at the very least.

  I trudged to the front of the house.

  My feet felt like they were on fire and my legs were bruised from Balkir’s kicks. I was sure at least one rib was cracked and my breathing was shallow on the right side.

  I opened the door and held onto the door frame with every fiber of my being, hoping it wasn’t a demon come to fight.

  It wasn’t, but it was close.

  “Idiot warlock. Where in the hells have you been!”

  “Hi Glenda.”

  She was dressed in skin tight black leathers this time. I wanted to feel my pulse quicken, but it was too beat up to bother. She whipped out a cell phone and punched in a quick message then slid the tiny device into a pocket at her side.

  “How does that even fit in there?”

  “In. Get in there and let me look at you. Gods, Phin. You look like you were tossed down a flight of stairs and then soundly beaten to a pulp, and where have you been for the past few days? Not a word. Not a single word. The last I heard you were going to visit the necropolis and then bam, you are off the grid. If you think that it’s like the old days, when you could just come and go as you--”

  “Glenda, if you don’t hurry up and get to some kind of point I am going to collapse right here.”

  “You first. What happened?”

  “It’s pretty cliché. Blakir’s returned from the grave.”

  “You really are delusional, you idiotic charlatan of a warlock.”

  Glenda pushed me toward the couch until the back of my legs hit and I was forced to sit down with an ‘umph.’ She slung a bag around her shoulder and unzipped it. I caught a hand scrawled title ‘Death Box’ on the lid. The inside was filled with more vials than I had ever seen in my life. Each had a tiny symbol etched in the top that made little sense to me.

  “Why is it called ‘death bag.’”

  “Because it is. Now shut up.”

  “I’m not delusional about Balkir. He really did just call me, and yesterday he tried to beat me to death in the first ward.”

  The back door banged in its frame. I guessed that would be Frank, because why shouldn’t my home be a congregation center for all of my weird friends. I stared toward the door but it didn’t magically open.

  “Just change into a dodo bird and fly in, Frank,” I yelled.

  Glenda tsked, put a drop of something on my lips before I could protest, and left me to my own devices for a moment. Frank sounded concerned but he played it cool by Glenda, even though I saw him glance into the room a couple of times, worry clouding his features.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” I said and then my body grew very warm and the world swam out of focus. “What the hell did you give me? Glenda!”

  I swam for a while.

  **

  I didn’t sleep exactly. Whatever crap Glenda had put on my lips made me drift on a warm cloud. I was aware of my surroundings as well as the familiar faces that wafted across my line of sight. I’d love to get the recipe, but witches were notoriously secretive about their formulas, even more so than we warlocks.

  I was also irritated beyond belief. I had to snap out of this spell and call Ashley. I needed to make plans to take down Balkir. I had to warn the guild about his plans, and I had to clear up the matter of Salazar’s death, plus find out how to get his soul out of the wards, provided it was still intact. I ached to stomp my foot and scream at Glenda to let me go. Instead I floated in a half stoned, half lobotomized state.

  I’d like to say that I came out of it feeling refreshed, after I had drifted for what seemed like days.

  Something moved in the room with me.

  I flew out off the couch on a wave of pure sorcery. It ripped at the air and pulled at my skin, hair, eyes, and mouth. At least one throw pillow burst into flame and a lost soul screamed as it fled the room. It had been watching me, curious, and in a form I’d never experienced before. Clothed and humanoid, not a mist. I somehow regained control before the room immolated.

  “I’ve got the power!” was the only thing I could think to yell. The band ‘SNAP’ did not magically appear.

  “What is wrong with you?” Glenda exclaimed. Hands on hips, she regarded me from across the room like a mother scolding a child. I thought about setting her leathers on fire to teach her a lesson.

  “You can’t just drug me like that, Glenda. Do you understand half of what’s going on out there?”
r />   “I don’t, Phineas Cavanaugh, but I do understand half of what was going on with you. You had a broken blood vessel in one eye, you had a concussion, and I’m pretty sure one of your rib bones was in danger of puncturing your lungs. So before you go lecturing me, lecture yourself about taking better care. Got it? I didn’t want to explain to Doc how we lost Salazar and his protégé in one week, especially when you have the you-know-what to the you-know-where.” She fumed.

  I finally looked around and found Frank, Doc, and Collin all seated in my living room eating cheese, crackers, little cookies, and sipping tea like it was Sunday fucking afternoon on Downton Abbey.

  Peaches even had one eyes on me. She was curled up near Doc, with her rear legs scissored at a weird angle.

  They’d dragged my crappy television into the living room and adjusted the rabbit ears to pick up a baseball game. The Seattle Mariners were losing to the Yankees ten to two.

  “So you’ve all been sitting around while I was wasted on the couch?”

  “Not the first time,” Doc quipped.

  “You snore really loud, chief,” Frank said and popped a naked Oreo half into his mouth. He held his finger down and Peaches rolled over and licked white filling.

  “Phineas, can I ask you a favor?” Collin asked. He had one leg crossed over the other and looked relaxed, while also appearing as uptight as a priest at a strip club.

  “Sure, Collin, seeing as how I’m in my own house and your girlfriend just drugged me out of my mind.”

  “Whatever. Can you please go take a shower? You smell like demon spoor.”

  “I told her I was in the wards.” I shoved my thumb in Glenda’s direction. “I don’t think her elevator goes all the way to the top, if you know what I mean.”

  “I am going to drug you into next week,” Glenda threatened.

  “This is why nobody likes you, Glenda. Tell me one thing, friends,” I said. “Did a girl named Ashley call?”

  “She did, but she sounded angry when I answered,” Glenda said. “New squeeze?”

  “Probably not anymore.” I groaned.

  “Just call her back and tell her what you told us.”