Graveyard Uprisings

by Jason Paul Rice

  “Is there a point where the Sendals get too strong to go back into the box?” I took a sip of the Jameson.

  Jonathan unleashed his wild hair. “Not exactly. They do have another avenue of recourse. If they can completely split away from the spirit from the Dybbuk box, they will be free. However, the spirits mesh together so tightly that it is nearly impossible to accomplish that.”

  “When would you be able to perform these exercises?”

  “Should take me about a full day to gather all the required supplies. I hope you are ready for this. It’s pretty intense.” He kept staring at me, making me uncomfortable.

  “I think I can handle it.” I planned to do this with Jonathan and then kill the rest of the remaining spirits.

  The vampire stood up from his desk, and announced, “I’ll be right back. I forgot my presence is needed elsewhere for just a few minutes. Please excuse me.”

  Jonathan darted out of the room, leaving me alone to check out a forty-one-million-dollar painting. The utter destruction of Guernica, Spain. Most people feared demons and monsters, and rightly so, but this painting gave me a harsh reminder that humans can be the worst.

  The door popped open and I turned over my right shoulder to greet Jonathan again, but three vampires rushed through the door and surrounded my chair.

  The vampire standing in front of me said, “I’m Edgar, and this is Timson and Roydell.”

  I couldn’t vouch for Timson or Roydell because they were behind me, but Edgar appeared much older than Jonathan, gray, balding hair and a wrinkled forehead. His hair hung to his long, skinny neck and the vampire wore an expensive white suit. I said, “Strange greeting. Perhaps we could all face each other.”

  Edgar barked, “We know that you know where Carolyn is. Don’t play us for fools.”

  Believe the lie. Believe the lie. “I don’t know what you gentlemen are talking about, but I suggest you back away before someone gets hurt.”

  The men laughed, and Roydell (I’m guessing Roydell) spoke from behind me, “The only person that will get hurt is you, little boy.”

  Fewer words get me more fired up than being called boy. I set my drink underneath my chair. “Doubt it.” I pulled my magic to the surface and readied for battle.

  He leaned in closer, pale-faced and dull pink lips flapping. “You’re young so you might not know. Necromancy isn’t just raising bodies from the dead. We can talk to vampires who’ve died, you know. We’ve been hearing some juicy whispers from the spirits. And what do you know, your name keeps coming up.”

  These boys were about to get burned if they didn’t back the fuck up. “I suggest you get some better sources and might I recommend a stronger toothpaste. Much better than your current brand of dogshit flavored.”

  His lips pursed, wrinkling his cheeks and nose. “They’ve never lied to us before. You seem rather nervous.”

  It’s about to go down, Jonathan, you better get your ass back here. “You would be too if three dipshits were surrounding you.”

  Edgar took a step back and gave me a silent clap. “Hardy har. Lowbrow comedy at its finest. How would you like to die?”

  “Hmm, let me count the ways.” I started forming a vaporous pocket of fire in front of my chest. Time to feel the burn, bitches. I wondered where Jonathan was and got the suspicion that he might be setting me up. This all seemed way too convenient.

  “Put your magic away or we will kill you on the spot. Just tell us where she is, and you will walk out of here on two perfectly operable legs.” Edgar put his hands on the arms of my chair, his white hair almost touching me, trying to intimidate me.

  You got the wrong guy, Eddie Munster. Vampires were probably the quickest creatures that I’ve come in contact with. It was essential to take them by surprise.

  Coughing to make him lower his guard and back away, I kicked him in the balls and his hands reached for his crotch. With his defense down and ugly face leaning forward, I swung my forearm across his jaw and heard a crunching sound as he crashed into Jonathan’s desk and fell to the expensive Afghan rug.

  My momentum carried me out of the seat and I spun around carefully avoiding my vaporous fireball. I snatched it in my right hand, forming it into a more concentrated force, ready to hurl it at Roydell or Timson or whoever the fuck wanted to get in my way right now.

  I wound up as the door flew open and Jonathan raced in, arms in the air. “What is going on in here? All of you, get out of here.”

  My chest heaved in and out, full of anger, clouding my judgment. As the three vampires were leaving, I screamed at the elder vamp, rambling, “What the fuck was that Jonathan? You think I’m stupid? You think I’m fucking stupid? No one would just come into your office without knocking. They are too scared of you. You’re lucky you returned when you did, and I didn’t go ape shit on your goons or there’d be vampire guts and lips and asses all over your precious Guernica. We’d be making vampire hot dogs up in here right about now.”

  Jonathan lowered his head along with his eyebrows until I couldn’t see the sclerae of his eyes. My anger shrouded my mind, but I needed to be careful. I could wreck some shop and kill a bunch of vampires, but I would die before I got out of the mansion. The elder vamp was probably weighing this like a mob boss.

  He could whack me right now on principle alone to maintain his ruthless reputation. Or he could let me live and make money off me for the rest of my life. I guessed it came down to how valuable I was to him.

  My swashbuckling bravado faded to dust as I waited for the six-hundred-year-old vampire to say something. Anything.

  His lips finally started to move. Slowly. “I promise you I had no prior knowledge of their motives. They will be dealt with accordingly.”

  I picked up my Jameson and drained about half of it. “If you don’t trust me, just say so. I’ll take my boxes and we can go our separate ways.”

  He put his hands up in a very calm fashion. “I don’t want a few overzealous old men to ruin a great business relationship that could span decades for you. Again, I apologize for their indiscretion. This problem is causing great unrest in our clan as you can see. The vital importance can be lost on everyone else.”

  “I know the importance. You made it perfectly clear several times. I need to get home, it’s been a hell of a night. I’ll give you a call about the boxes.”

  “And I shall answer. Until another day.”

  I stormed out of there without letting Jonathan touch me. I walked past Edgar, who was hanging out with the receptionist. He had a big icepack on his jaw. Drama queen. The immortal’s jaw would probably be healed by the morning. My injuries would probably feel much worse tomorrow.

  I conjured up a shit-eating grin as I walked by, exited the front door, and got in my car. No tip tonight, valet dude. Get it from Jonathan. I drove home steaming mad. Just showed I needed to be careful with who I trusted. It wasn’t as if I was shocked that a vampire had tried to pull a fast one on me. Far from it.

  My body was in agony from the altercations tonight. I was still irritated with Jonathan, and wanted to kill the Men in Black who tried to end my life. It was only fair. I entertained the idea of going back to their shitty apartment so I didn’t have to keep looking over my shoulder.

  I’d already killed a vampire and wouldn’t back down from doing it again. Being the guardian of a city was a dirty job, and I started thinking I had been too nice up until this point. The killer instinct was coming to the surface, making my skin sizzle with the fire of life. I had to temper it with my father’s blood running through my veins. I didn’t want to turn into that monster.

  Jonathan wasn’t going to pull a fast one on me. Not happening. I needed to forget about the drama with the vampires and focus on the spirits and my father. Getting attacked by the Men in Black working for the Sendal Spirits and three vampires made me realize that I needed to go on the offensive.

  I still didn’t know where the spirits had taken residence. Not knowing how to defeat them made matters even wo
rse. I planned to go to the Celtic Gods and gain the answers. They had to know something, right?

  I woke up the next day to another report of murder and mayhem throughout the city and its surroundings from Gretchen. She’d told me that the police still hadn’t found my father or figured out how he busted out of jail. Obviously, that news hadn’t surprised me.

  I knew my father, the stone men, and the Men in Black were after me, but now I couldn’t trust Jonathan to keep his goons away from me while I tried to protect Carolyn.

  The pain from the fight on East Carson Street had come out to play in a major way. My body cursed at me as I stretched out.

  I went downstairs and had breakfast with Alayna and Colossus while Carolyn slept in my bed. Satoku still hadn’t called and I was convinced I was losing her to Felix. I tried to shove aside all the problems and get ready for my visit with the Celtic Gods today.

  22

  Alayna and I walked down to the river, and uncovered the secret entrance door to the Deep Burrow. We entered the dark tunnel and navigated to the steep drop. Alayna jumped over the edge, and I followed.

  The free fall caused me to close my eyes to avoid the dust circulating around. I kept falling and falling until I finally hit the portal. I opened my eyes to find I was standing in the little patch of woods in the Deep Burrow. We strolled out of the tree line and stared at the verdant landscape of the druidic underworld.

  The farms, houses and castles dotted the frosty, sweeping scenery. I noticed the closest farmers were making pickled vegetables in big Mason jars. One of the small druids poured the steaming vinegar into the jars with a shaky hand, spilling some over the sides.

  I looked up at the intersecting tree roots high above, flashing with blue electricity. The intertwined roots were loose enough to let in light for farming and heat. It appeared to be a dome-like structure and acted as an internet, delivering any necessary information to the druidic underworld.

  The trees saw everything. And they never forgot.

  Redridge and Alayna’s Pegasus came trotting over to us. The wingless faerie turned to me. “Ready to go to Clara Spiritus?”

  I responded, “Of course. We aren’t wasting any time today.”

  Alayna mounted the Pegasus and I sidled up next to Redridge. The peryton was a hybrid of a stag’s head and neck with the body of an eagle. An enormous eagle that stood up to my chest, mind you. The animal had bright, multicolored feathers that started with purple at the base, turned to red in the middle and to blue at the tips.

  The majestic animal leaned down and I gave him a kiss on top of the head before I got on. I grabbed the area right next to the base of his wings and held on for dear life. He shifted around to get my weight evenly distributed.

  The peryton started moving awkwardly and quickly sped up to a jog. The crisp wind blew through my hair, and the pain from my body was forgotten as Redridge reached sprinting speed. He leaped into the air, stretched out his enormous wings, and we took off from the ground.

  Several strong wing beats lifted us into the sky. We chased after Alayna and the Pegasus, streaking toward the flashing tree roots above. The peryton navigated through the maze of roots, missing the blue flashes by inches.

  We came out the other side, and our speed increased dramatically. I peeked over at Alayna and her Pegasus until the wind resistance caused me to close my eyes. I didn’t see the portal to take us to the home of the Gods this time, but I surely felt the constrictive hug from all sides.

  The portal felt like you were being swallowed by a snake, pulled inch by inch, down a dark tunnel. Just as I thought my body would explode, the pressure relented, leaving me with the soreness from last night’s fights.

  I came out in the Valley of the Gods and smiled at the floral surprise of free standing rose bushes. The only place I knew where roses bloomed in the winter. Alayna and I trekked through a few inches of snow and a light sprinkling fell from the sky.

  We walked for almost a half-hour until we came to the audience chamber. The cutout area in the base of the mountain was well lit as we entered. Mabon, Cernunnos and the Dahgdha were in the middle of the room and Cerridwen was working a cauldron in the corner of the room.

  I nodded to the silently stirring Cerridwen and headed for the other Gods. “Thanks for having me back.” I noticed swords hanging on the walls as competing scents vied for the attention of my nostrils. The cauldrons smelled like centuries worth of hot death, but a small fire in the corner of the room emitted a pleasing aroma of sage, rosemary and black pepper.

  Cerridwen seemed unaffected as she moved from cauldron to cauldron, using an oar-sized ebony stirrer to mix up the mystery contents. Mabon took a few steps forward and met me with a hug. The short, dainty God with shaggy blond hair whispered, “Thanks again for that bit with the Jersey Devil. I still owe you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” I shook hands with the other Gods and exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. Alayna went to the fire in the corner. She started moving some long metal objects around. They were the size of pokers for a fireplace, about two feet long. She adjusted them so the tips were in the fragrant fire.

  I looked around at the Gods. “With what’s going on right now, I think I’m going to need clearance to kill to complete this mission.”

  The Dahgdha said, “Asking now. You’ve recently killed without permission, haven’t you?”

  “I was tricked, but they turned out to be vampires who were going to kill me. I was only acting in self-defense. And what I’m asking for is not so I can act recklessly. The issue is that they are gaining so much power we must act quickly. A few might have to go for the greater good.” I lowered my head and felt awful for uttering those words.

  Cernunnos, the Lord of the Wild Things, said, “Granted. We’ve prepared a ceremony to ready you for the upcoming battle you are about to face.” The God had long antlers sprouting from his head, wild hair and a mess of facial hair to match, but his usual avian friends weren’t nestled in his beard today.

  Good, I’m glad they didn’t make me rehash all the details of the murder or give me a hard time over the matter.

  Time to get right down to business. “How are you going to do that?”

  The Dahgdha answered, “We are going to give you weaponry suited for your current foe.” The God of Power and Wisdom had corded muscle everywhere on his body. His build reminded me of a shorter version of Arnold Schwarzenegger in his weightlifting prime. The Dahgdha had close-cropped red hair peeking out from his black hooded cloak.

  Mabon, the Young Son, looked at me with childlike wonder in his lively blue eyes, “You’re like a gladiator, and we are going to try to give you every advantage you might need.”

  From the fire in the corner, Alayna called, “These will be ready in a few minutes.”

  Cerridwen clapped her hands and a large round object started to rise from the ground. The strong firelight exposed a perfectly round oak tree trunk, sanded and stained to stunning perfection. The table was a few feet wide in circumference and it came up about two feet from the ground.

  Cernunnos, The Dahgdha, and Mabon knelt around the small table and gestured for me to join them.

  We all joined hands as the smoke from the fire mysteriously filled the room, hindering visibility. Mabon said, “Inhale deeply, this smoke will help you deal with the pain.”

  Pain? The smoke made my body buzz and my brain felt like it was floating above my head. I couldn’t inhale too deeply because I kept gagging from the crosswinds coming from the kettles.

  I could barely see Cernunnos sitting two feet away from me as his booming voice exploded, echoing off the walls, “We have a warrior who needs protection from confused spirits. We ask the souls of the first families to die on earth to join us. Join us in blessing this noble soul and guide Micheal on the righteous path.”

  The Dahgdha’s soft voice spoke through the screen of smoke, “A warrior needs proper tools for success. We ask the souls of the first families to gather inside the weaponry w
ithin this room, enchant us with your presence. We honor you by observing the ancient ritual of tattooing a warrior forever with our runes.”

  A loud crack of thunder stunned me (scared me), and the excess smoke flooded out the opening and into the winter air. The swords on the wall that had silver blades when I entered were now glowing orange. They appeared as if they had just come out of a forge.

  Mabon spoke, “We ask the noble spirits to join us in the process of protecting a warrior against the evils that will inevitably be faced. A weapon can only be wielded by a physical body. We ask for help to bless this body, gain him wisdom and the ability to defeat darkness. Ancient spirits, we are calling on you to come out and bless these rune symbols.”

  The air got heavier and the room started to shake wildly, scaring me that we were about to be crushed by the mountain.

  After the mini-quake, Alayna approached with what appeared to be a branding iron. As she neared, I confirmed the suspicion. The Dahgdha turned to me, and said, “You don’t mind a little pain, do you?”

  I didn’t respond, and Cernunnos said, “Lay both hands flat on the table and hold still.”

  I followed his instructions except for the second part. My hands trembled as I could already feel the heat from Alayna’s brand, hovering over my right hand. The faerie said, “Take a few deep breaths.”

  Closing my eyes, I took one deep breath and as I inhaled for the second, a searing pain burnt the top of my hand. I looked down at my smoking flesh in the shape of a sharp-edged lowercase n. My heart fluttered, and the shock that always comes after intense pain spread through my system, tingling the tips of my ears.

  Alayna hit the other hand, and I squirmed under the fiery metal. She pulled the branding iron away to reveal the same symbol as the first. The Dahgdha spoke, “This warrior begs to share in the primal creative force. The symbol of uruz is in the honor of the ancient spirits. From the first person to practice magic to the most recent, we ask that you join him on this journey.”