Revenant

by Catrina Burgess

  I turned my back on the scene and tried to focus on the bath I was about to have—a bath would finally wash the stench of it all away. I had been around the dead before as a healer, but once someone passed on, the family took the body away. Until now, I had been blissfully ignorant of what happens to a body when left out in the elements.

  The smell was an indescribable acrid odor, like rotten meat left in the sun. It clung to my clothes, my skin, in my nose. I worried that even after I bathed it would still be there. But the smell wasn’t the worst part. It was the memories of their faces and bodies that haunted my dreams.

  The dead I was dealing with didn’t have the peaceful look of bodies prepared and placed into satin-lined coffins for viewing. These gruesome corpses had eyes that bulged out of their sockets, tongues swollen and protruding out of their mouths. Their stomachs were bloated, and the bodies themselves had changed color—some were green, some were yellow, a few had even turned black. Their skin had blistered and rotted in the sun—often when I grabbed an arm or a hand, the skin would peel away at my touch.

  And then there were the bugs. I knew insects burrowed into corpses and laid their eggs—it was just a natural process of life. But the thought of laying my hands on the dead when they were crawling with maggots and flies turned my stomach.

  I cannot wait to get clean.

  I hurried inside and quickly closed the door, blocking out the stink and the line of zombies. If Dean saw them, then Luke would know what I had been doing. He would know that I’d been helping Gage raise an army of the dead. He would realize that he’d been used as a hostage to make me do it. He would either hate himself, or me, and I couldn’t allow either. I loved Luke too much to let that happen.

  I dropped the wood by the stove and looked down at the tub of steaming water. Luckily we had enough water at the moment that we didn’t need to go back to the well. Please let the zombies be gone by the time Dean heads out to get more wood or water. I’d drained out the previous dirty water and painstakingly refilled it. It took forever to boil, and the tub was only half full, but it was clean, and hot, and the smell of soap was a welcome change from the scent that clung to me. I peeled off my mud-stained clothes and climbed into the old-fashioned porcelain tub. The water turned murky as soon as my skin made contact. I slid down until most of my body was submerged.

  Sonja had supplied us with soap and shampoo. I washed my hair twice and soaped down my body three times. When I finally got out of the tub, I felt clean for the first time in a long time.

  I grabbed a towel from a pile left on the table. Gage said there would be new clothes for us to wear, but I hadn’t seen any. I stepped over my dirty clothes and wrapped the towel securely around me before heading back into the main room.

  Wendy was back on the piano stool, a towel wrapped around her as well. She looked uncomfortable. She kept nervously adjusting the towel around her legs and pulling at the top of it as though she was worried it was going to fall off any minute.

  Dean didn’t look uncomfortable—in fact, he looked confident and handsome standing at the window with his towel wrapped around his waist.

  When Dean saw me, he froze and looked surprised. Then his eyes slowly looked me up and down. I felt embarrassed by the sudden attention.

  He seemed to sense that he was making me feel awkward and gave me a sheepish grin. “Do you think this is how they want us to dress for dinner?”

  I tried not to act as self-conscious as I felt, standing dressed in nothing but a towel. I forced a smile onto my face. “With Gage, who knows?”

  Dean laughed, and I was happy to hear the sound again. He’d been quiet ever since our talk in the kitchen. He gave me an appreciative look, and I couldn’t help but admire him. Though Dean was tall with broad shoulders, he was still a bit thin from being wheelchair-bound in the asylum, and now from being kept in captivity here. He needed to put on some more weight, a tad more muscle. But despite that, he looked pretty good wearing only a towel. I remembered running my hands down his frame when I’d been at the asylum. When I was alone with Luke.

  I turned away before Dean could see me blush.

  Sonja walked into the room. The smug look on her face was gone. In its place was a black eye. Jacob walked in behind her carrying three garment bags.

  Sonja looked at us and tried for a smile, but it never reached her eyes. “Here are some things for you to wear.” She waved her arm around the room. “I’ll have the place cleaned up before you get back from dinner.”

  As she moved closer, I could make out bruises on her upper arm. On closer inspection, I saw that they were in the shape of fingers. She ignored my inquisitive looks and addressed all three of us. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the place in better shape. I’ll have some food brought into the kitchen in case you get hungry during the night. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to explore, but there are bedrooms in the back. I’ll have the beds made with fresh linens and the whole place swept up and dusted.” She swallowed hard and turned to face me. “I’m sorry I didn’t do all this earlier.”

  She doesn’t look sorry, I thought. Instead, she looked sullen. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Before I even had a chance to say anything, Jacob dropped the bags and the two of them left.

  Wendy got up off the bench and grabbed the closest bag. “She wasn’t sorry. He made her sorry.”

  “Gage?” I asked, coming to her side.

  “Gage is the reason she’s sporting that black eye and bruises.” She paused a moment and then gave me an odd look. “Sonja doesn’t like you, you know—she’s jealous.”

  “Of me?”

  “He has plans for you,” she said under her breath.

  “What kind of plans?”

  “In his vision of the future, you’re by his side.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.” But by the look on her face, she wasn’t.

  “Colina, be careful.” She turned back to the bag she had grabbed, unzipped it, and pulled out a dress. There was a white piece of paper with my name written on it attached to the hanger. “This one is for you,” she said, handing it over.

  The top of the dress had a jeweled bodice shimmering with red and silver stones. I’d never worn a dress with the front cut so low. It looked like it would be snug down to the waist and from there it flared out like a pool of red. There were no other clothes around. My only choices? Keep wearing the towel, or put on the dress. I doubted I really had a choice.

  Sonja also decided my makeup and hairstyle for me. She reappeared a few minutes later with bags of her own. I sat in the kitchen as she worked on my hair. She pulled out a small iron rod with a wooden handle and proceeded to put it on the stove to heat. It was the equivalent of a modern-day curling iron. She curled my shoulder-length hair into soft waves around my face, then carefully applied bold red lipstick to my lips and dark gray eye shadow to my lids. She finished with two coats of mascara.

  She held up a hand mirror, and I stared at my reflection. I no longer looked seventeen. My brown hair was in spiraled curls around my face, and the eye shadow made my hazel eyes look almost green. I looked much, much older and more sophisticated. She handed me a pair of blood-red teardrop earrings and a matching necklace. They looked like real rubies. They felt ice cold against my skin. A pair of jeweled red shoes completed my outfit.

  I walked into the living room. Dean stood in the corner in an expensive-looking coal gray suit and a silver tie. The gray accentuated his blue eyes and his black slicked-back hair. He looked like a hero from one of those old black-and-white movies.

  His eyes widened in surprise when he saw me. “You look—”

  “Silly?” I said, running my hands self-consciously down the skirt of my dress.

  “Stunning,” he answered, his eyes roving over my body. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

  He was moving slowly toward me, his expression just a bit predatory, when Wendy walked into the room. Dean stopped when he saw her, his face filled with obvious frustration, but then hi
s expression changed and an appreciative gleam came into his eyes, this time aimed at Wendy.

  Her dress was bright yellow and cut high in the front, but when she turned I saw the dress plunged way down low in the back. A slight slit ran up one side, and I could see a pair of sparkling gray shoes underneath. Her ink black hair was swept up with a few long tendrils pulled down to hang gently around her face. Her brown eyes looked bigger with purple eye shadow and mascara. Pink blush gave color to her normally pale complexion, and her lips were a deep, dark purple. Makeup covered up the bruises on her face, and the slashes on her arms were no longer visible. Long, dark gray silk gloves covered her skin up to her elbows.

  “I feel like an idiot,” she said. She looked as if she wanted to retreat back to the bedroom.

  Dean gave her a wide smile. “You look gorgeous.”

  Wendy blushed.

  “Gage wants all of you in attendance tonight.” Sonja had changed into a long black dress with a slit on one side that went all the way up to the top of her thigh. She wore heels so high I wondered how she could walk in them. Her red hair was smooth and glossy and fell down to the middle of her back. She looked tall and sleek, like a runway model.

  The bruises on her eye and her arms were barely noticeable. I’d watched her cover them in makeup after she did my hair. She did it with an ease and speed that made me certain it wasn’t the first time she’d done such a thing.

  “We’d better get going—Gage doesn’t like it when anyone’s late.” Sonja tried for another smile but didn’t pull it off. She turned to the door, speaking over her shoulder as she went. “The staff will be cleaning while we’re at dinner. By the time you come back, this place will have all the comforts of home.”

  I looked over at Dean. He rolled his eyes in a comical way, and I couldn’t help but grin.

  * * *

  We headed down into the basement and back into the tunnels. Wendy said it was an old mining town, which meant the tunnels were actually mine shafts. I ran my hand along the dirt wall as I walked. I could feel grooves in the wall—places where tools had cut out the rock, or maybe worked away trying to find gold or silver. We passed an intersection and to the left was a tunnel with metal tracks running through it. A large, square, rusted metal container with wheels sat on the tracks. An ore car to carry rock to the surface? I wondered, If I follow the tracks, will they eventually lead me outside?

  We walked until we pushed through thick red drapes and entered an immense cavern. White material draped across the ceiling, and stalactites hung down between gaps in the material. A small stream cut across the center of the space, emerging from a waist-high tunnel on one side of the room and disappearing into the wall on the far side.

  Candelabras burning white candles were scattered around the space. The water caught the light and shone off the cavern walls. Patches of purple and white sparkled in the light from within the rock. I took a closer look. Amethyst. They weren’t mining for silver or gold. The glittering purple stone was woven in amongst the quartz.

  I knew about amethyst and quartz. Mages often used amethyst for its healing and protection properties. Even medieval European soldiers had worn the stone into battle. Quartz was called the “ice of the gods” by some cultures and could be used to focus psychic powers. I remembered that Wendy had used a quartz stone hanging from a necklace as a divination tool in the asylum to find Mildred.

  Had Gage picked this mine because it had amethyst and quartz? What did he need protection from?

  I looked out into the vast space of the room. No way was it man-made—it looked like miners had broken into a natural cavern. It was the perfect place for Gage’s twisted get-together, but it didn’t look like a den of iniquity. Instead, it had the air of a high-society party. The light gave the space a festive feel, and the sound of moving water echoed lightly off the walls. Two dozen large round tables surrounded by high-backed white chairs were set up throughout the area. A white tablecloth covered each table, and plates piled high with food and crystal bottles full of colorful liquids graced each surface. The uneven floor set some tables at an odd angle. It was all extremely tasteful, and considering where we were, it was all extremely out of place.

  At least a hundred people—all dressed like us in gowns and suits—milled around the room. I realized in shock that everyone in the room was young and beautiful. The scent of flowers floated in the air, and a half-dozen people dressed all in black carried silver platters back and forth across the room. Fluted glasses filled with what I guessed was champagne and plates of hors d'oeuvres filled the platters.

  Gage kept me in a cage, forced me to sleep on the dirt, and barely fed and clothed me—all while he and his followers lived a life of luxury.

  I heard a gasp of surprise loud enough to be to be heard across the crowded space and looked over into Dean’s dark-gray eyes—wait, Dean doesn’t have gray eyes…Luke!

  The sun must have set. It was nighttime, and Luke had surfaced. “Luke.” I mouthed his name and started toward him.

  Strong fingers reached out and stopped me. Caleb had dressed in a black suit with no tie and had his hair pulled back. His eyes slowly wandered up and down my body. “I have to admit, you sure do clean up well. That outfit will put a gleam in the big man’s eye for sure.” As he spoke, I could see the ever-present anger glittering just below the surface.

  I started to pull away from Caleb when a smooth hand slid across my arm, and I realized, with a jolt of surprise, that Gage was now at my side. He had his arm wrapped around mine.

  “My dear, you look divine. Shall we?” he asked.

  I was so shocked at his proximity that I just nodded in response.

  Luke moved forward as if to come to my aid, but before he could, Jacob was beside him. I watched Jacob place and secure chains around Luke’s wrists.

  Gage followed my glance. “I’m sorry, my dear—it has to be done. He just can’t be trusted when it comes to you. I fear he’s too much of an emotional creature when you’re around—Caleb has told me quite a lot. I do applaud Luke’s efforts, however. Who doesn’t love a hero?” He gave a loud sigh. “The boy just doesn’t realize when it’s time to surrender.”

  “He’ll never surrender,” I spat out.

  “I hope you’re wrong. I would dearly love it if Mr. Luke Cross came into the fold. Like I said before, the boy has considerable talents. He is a powerful mage.” He paused, considering his words. “Well…maybe not in this current body, but we may soon have a solution to that problem.” He gave my arm a squeeze. “That precious spell you were looking so hard for in the asylum? The one you hoped would allow Luke to transfer to another body? I think I’ve found it.”

  His words stunned me. Was he telling the truth? I cautioned myself from being too optimistic. There was a catch. There had to be a catch. If Gage helped me with Luke, what would he want in return?

  Gage put his arm around me so I had no choice but to move forward with him. We slowly crossed the room, and as we moved, people glided out of our way. Everyone was watching us with open curiosity. Gage’s suit was expensive, all black and shiny, and a blood-red tie hung from his neck. The candlelight hit the scar that marred his face. His black hair was slicked back, which somehow made the streak of white hair just above his scar more dramatic. On the outside he was handsome—even with the scar—but on the inside he was a sadistic monster. Apparently that little fact wasn’t a problem for the women in the room. Female heads turned as he approached, and their eyes watched his every movement. Sonja has more to worry about than me, I thought, watching the hungry look in an attractive brunette’s eyes as she gave Gage a sly smile.

  If he noticed all the attention, he hid it well—his entire focus was on me. He patted my arm again before continuing on about Luke. “I know, I know. You don’t want to get your hopes up. But I’ve been poring over all the books I can find, trying to come up with a solution for our little zombie problem—and since you won’t ask, no, I haven’t found anything yet to completely fix that
problem—but I have found a spell I think might do the trick with your boyfriend. We’ll need an empty vessel, but it’s not like there aren’t plenty of bodies around we could use. However, I don’t think you want your precious boy jumping into a rotting corpse. Am I right?” He gave a bit of a laugh. “No, for him I think we have to find something…fresh. Maybe someone of your choosing? I mean, you might want to have a say in whose face you’ll be mooning over.”

  Too late, I realized in horror that I was blushing at his words.

  He noticed and gave me a smile. “Though, according to Mildred, you don’t mind the body he’s currently in. Too bad Dean has that one little problem. He’s gone through two rituals and has no magic to show for it, except for his little ‘roid rage’ episodes. I must admit, I’m still not clear on how this ‘berserker’ thing works. Mildred has been telling me all about it, but I’m having a hard time finding anything about it in my library. I’m relying on Mildred and what she can remember, but you know the old dear is getting on in age. Her memory isn’t what it used to be.”

  “Where is Mildred?” I hadn’t seen her since she’d turned us over to Gage. She claimed to be my friend, but she betrayed me. All of us. I felt angry at her betrayal, but also something else—a deep sadness. I had considered her a friend. I trusted her, counted on her to help me in the asylum, and the whole time she had been playing me.

  “Why, she’s over there.” Gage pointed across the room.

  Mildred wore a flowing silver dress, and her white hair was arranged into braids woven around her head. She swayed back and forth as if dancing, but there wasn’t any music playing. I had seen her do that exact thing many times before, and she’d seemed unbalanced. Was it all an act? That wild gleam of insanity that often glittered behind her eyes—was that something she could fake?