by Jonah Hewitt
The Necromancer looked a bit surprised. He surveyed the three boys again and examined Miles especially hard. Lucy remembered what he had said to Miles back at the farmhouse. He was shocked that Miles had survived such a close encounter with Amanda, or Amarantha or whatever she was. Did Hokharty know Amanda was coming for them? If so, how? Lucy guessed Moríro was probably pondering the same question at this very moment.
“Why bring her here then?” Moríro asked seeming genuinely confused. “Why not bring her to me?”
“Again, Necromancer, I was being cautious. I needed a secure place to protect her.”
“But here?!” Moríro spat indignantly, “Amongst Wallach’s den of thieves?”
“Wallach is dead,” Hokharty said plainly, “He was…uncooperative.” The vampires all tittered at this. Moríro looked annoyed. He didn’t seem to care a fig about Wallach, but the killing was clearly not authorized in advance.
“I specifically instructed you to harm no one.”
“Actually, Necromancer, you instructed me not to harm any living soul, and I have not; as Wallach died more than two hundred years ago, I violated no vow to you.”
There was more tittering from the bloodsuckers. The vampires really were awful, like a clique of snotty, popular kids in high school except better looking and with superpowers. Vampires in high school – what a horror that would be! Home schooling didn’t seem so awful anymore. Lucy could tell Moríro hated being corrected like this, especially in front of so many dead things. It was like he was on the witness stand at a trial being hammered by a very talented prosecutor and he was being goaded into losing his temper.
“Your minions nearly let her be killed.”
“Regrettable, but that was not their intention,” Hokharty said, seemingly sincerely, “And I am grateful she is undamaged.”
Lucy snorted at this. She wouldn’t exactly call the last twenty-four hours undamaging. Hokharty went on, “I would have, of course, delivered her immediately to you, had she arrived.” The vampire shot a look back at the boys. “But more important matters required my attention elsewhere.”
“More important matters?!”
“Gathering the minions, as per your instructions…”
“As per my instructions! I instructed you to find the girl! Why on earth would you need so many minions to do that?!”
“Necromancer, with all due respect, you instructed me to help you restore the balance, and I am in the process of doing so.”
“Restoring the balance?!!” Moríro was furious. “You have overstepped your bounds, Hokharty. Calling so many together in one place. It will cause the mortals to become aware of their presence. You have needlessly risked the safety of the girl and all of them!”
Several of the non-vampire dead shifted nervously and whispered amongst themselves, but the vampires just smiled rather smugly. What did they know that the others did not?
Moríro wasn’t finished yet though, “Finding the girl was the key to restoring the balance, and now that she has been found…” he turned to address the crowd, “This conversation is over,” he said emphatically. “You will all return to your lairs and haunts, carefully and in small groups so as not to draw attention to yourselves, and you!” Moríro turned to gaze at Hokharty. “You will clean up this mess here and return to report to me by morning. I have serious matters to discuss with you regarding the Chamberlain.” Moríro put particular emphasis on this word. Lucy remembered that Nephys had said the same thing when he saw Hokharty. Who was this Chamberlain and what did he have to do with this? Moríro gripped Lucy tightly and turned as if about to leave, but no one else moved. Not the wax-faced mummies or the skeletons or anyone. Lucy could tell Moríro wasn’t used to being disobeyed. Lucy had been anxious and scared before, but now, she was positively terrified. Nephys gripped her arm tighter and even the imp withdrew a step or two.
“Necromancer,” Hokharty called him back. Moríro turned slowly, eyes fixed on the old vampire. “The girl is the key to restoring balance, but not in the way you believe. The situation is far more dire than even you realize. Please allow me to explain.”
Hokharty brought the tips of his fingers together close to his face and looked away for a moment. He looked as if he were trying to think of a way to explain something to a small child.
“Forgive the impertinence, Necromancer, but how long have you been THE Necromancer.”
Moríro bristled at this sudden inquiry. He clearly wasn’t used to taking questions from inferiors.
“I have been the Necromancer for nearly three hundred and forty years,” he stated this proudly and defiantly, but there was a trace of tiredness in his voice, tinged with fatigue and deep sorrow. Lucy looked up at Moríro. It was amazing to think he was that old, older than the telephone and the light bulb. Heck! Older than the Declaration of Independence! Her friends’ grandparents back in Texas could hardly manage e-mail. How had Moríro managed cars and modern life? What did being that old do to a person? How did it change you to watch the seasons pass like days, to watch everything you knew, everything you loved, die and pass away. She looked back up at the others on the dais. How old were all of them? Miles had a similar look. How old was he? Then she wondered how old grandma Holveda really was. Then she thought about herself. How long could she live?! Would she still be driving around in a battered car like Moríro’s when everyone else had jumped to teleporters?! Her head was swimming.
“More than twice as long as any previous Necromancer,” Hokharty stated flatly.
Hokharty said this in an offhand matter as if reading stats on voter registration by county, but Lucy could tell it was a personal dig at Moríro.
“A lot has changed in those three centuries. How many people, Necromancer, were living on the earth when you first became Necromancer? 500 million perhaps?”
Moríro didn’t answer. Hokharty wasn’t really asking questions anymore. He was gaining steam and moving into a whole monologue. He was walking around them like a panther stalking its prey.
“How many are there alive today? Nearly seven billion? That’s quite a dramatic change during your tenure wouldn’t you say?”
Moríro said nothing. Hokharty wasn’t finished yet.
“Antibiotics, heart transplants, sanitation: the list just keeps growing, and so do the numbers.”
Moríro looked terribly angry with Hokharty. “What arrogance! It was not my place to meddle! The hand of fate cannot be stayed. I did not interfere with the Great Master’s design!”
“Exactly, Necromancer. Unlike your predecessors, you took a decidedly hands-off approach to your duties. You didn’t interfere, and by not interfering there is now more death than ever. Ironic, isn’t it?” Hokharty said simply. Another person couldn’t have said this without sounding smug, but Hokharty made it sound like instructions for installing software on your personal computer.
Moríro didn’t answer. What was Hokharty getting at?!
“Scribe,” Hokharty suddenly said looking at Nephys. Nephys jumped and nearly yanked Lucy’s arm off.
“Y-y-yes…Chamberlain?” Nephys said nervously. Both Lucy and Moríro looked at Nephys suspiciously. Was Hokharty this mysterious Chamberlain figure she kept hearing about?
“You are truly far-sighted, Nefer,” Hokharty replied, “But though I command many in your world, here I am only a servant. You may call me Hokharty.” Lucy thought that was impenetrable, but Nephys seemed to understand it right away and nodded vigorously.
“Scribe, I know you have a marvelous mind for facts. How many people die each second and cross the causeway from the Gates of Erebus to Limbo?”
“About 1.8…um…Hokharty, sir.” Nephys answered nervously.
“And how many is that a minute?”
“108”
“And each hour?”
“About 6,480”
“And each day?”
“Um…155,520…I think.” Nephys replied uncertainly. Lucy was impressed with Nephys’ math skills, but what was Hokharty up to
with all these math problems?! Hokharty just paused and gave a slight smile.
“And you have seen these numbers personally haven’t you? You have seen them flooding through to the other side?”
“Yes…sir…I have.” Nephys gripped Lucy’s arm a little tighter.
“You have also been to the chamber of the Great Master, haven’t you scribe?” Hokharty remarked, as if this were a casual everyday topic of conversation.
“Yes…I have,” Nephys replied timidly.
Even Moríro looked shocked at this, and a new round of tittering went around the room.
“And how would you describe the Great Master’s health?” Hokharty asked ominously.
The whole room went silent. Nephys looked around desperately at Lucy, Moríro, even the imp who was droning and wheezing in an almost melancholy way, but there was no one who could help him. Lucy felt horribly sorry for him. It was unfair for him to be put on the spot like this, but Lucy had to admit, she was as eager to hear the answer as anyone else.
After several hard swallows, Nephys looked down at his sandals and said in a voice so soft it was barely audible.
“Not well,” he said.
The room gasped collectively. A slight flurry of cold air blew through the room and several of the blue-white candle flames guttered and went out.
Hokharty looked at Nephys in an almost pitying way then he stepped towards Moríro and looked him directly in the face.
“You see, Necromancer, the two worlds are out of balance, but the imbalance is found exclusively on this side.”
Moríro stood frozen and so did the rest of the congregation. Something horrible had just been revealed but Lucy still didn’t quite understand. She felt so stupid! In the long, hushed silence that followed, Lucy tried to wrap her mind around what Hokharty was saying. What did he mean that the imbalance was all on this side?! And what was all this playing around with numbers?! In the long pause that followed Hokharty’s pronouncement, Lucy tried to think.
She thought of the word “balance,” and instantly imagined one of those old fashioned scales with shallow plates suspended by chains on either side of a balance arm. She imagined weights piled up on the one side, weighing it down to the ground while lifting the other pan high into the air. Mentally, she tried to think how to make the pans even, and in her mind she imagined reaching out and transferring the weights from the heavy pan over to the lighter pan until slowly, one pan was raised, and the other lowered until they were even. She repeated this over and over in her head trying to understand, moving weights from one side, to the other. What were the weights? One side to the other. They weren’t weights at all, they were what? People? Moving weights from one side to the other, moving people from one side to the other…moving people from one side to the other!
As it dawned on her she cried out “OH, MY…” but she clapped her hands in horror over her mouth before the final word got out. People! He was talking about people! He was going to kill off billions and billions of people! Moríro gripped her shoulder a little more tightly, lest she panic or run off. He had obviously understood right away what Hokharty was up to.
Hokharty continued his monologue. “There are too many men and only one Great Master who must account for them all, Necromancer. Mankind has dammed the river of mortality and increased their numbers beyond all reason, but the dam is breaking. The earth is groaning under the weight of so many souls, and even Death suffers. And if Death suffers too much, all of us will suffer the more for it. You’re a doctor, Necromancer, surely you must understand how a limb must be severed to save the whole body? It will no doubt be hard, The Great Master will suffer greatly, and the pain will be felt both here and below, but when we are finished, the flow will be manageable and the balance will be restored, if not permanently then for a very long time.”
Lucy blanched and had to grab her head in shock. Kill six and half billion people! Was he serious?!!
“I’m sorry it has come to this point. An earlier intervention would have been preferable, but then, it wasn’t my decision.” He looked venomously at Moríro, but quickly regained his calm. He was talking about it like they were talking about assembly line production figures and not human beings. She looked to Miles and Tim. Did they understand what Hokharty was saying?! Schuyler was just twirling his lollipop thoughtfully.
“And how are you going to do this?! With this sorry band of corpses?!” Moríro spat at him.
The crowd muttered as if offended, but Hokharty kept his impassive stare.
Hokharty looked to Nephys and smiled. “The Gates of Erebus have been unlocked, Moríro. The one who opened it is standing right there beside you, and the key is in your pocket. We need only unlock the door from this side.”
Nephys blanched. Lucy looked at him and he looked at her. His eyes were darting about frantically. He was putting the puzzle pieces together himself. Lucy’s stomach fell. Had they all just been pawns in Hokharty’s game all along? It certainly looked that way.
Moríro was stunned but defiant. “There is no way to force the hand of the Great Master. You cannot force the Gates of Erebus from this side.”
“I believe I know of one way.” Hokharty turned and stepped aside revealing the body of Maggie Miller.
Lucy was stunned. What did her mother’s body have to do with this?!
“Imposible!” Moríro fumed.
“It’s not impossible, Necromancer,” Hokharty replied, and with this, he looked to Nephys who looked like he wished he could disappear.
“How did you come here, Scribe?” Hokharty said abruptly. Nephys didn’t answer at first but then nervously replied, “I…I came through the Gates of Erebus.”
“And how did you manage that?” The Chamberlain asked nonchalantly.
Nephys looked up and pulled a face. Why was the Chamberlain asking him things he already knew?!
“I…I had a stone.”
The crowd exchanged hushed whispers and furtive conversation.
Hokharty smiled a vague but satisfied smile. “The stone protected him through the gates, forced them open, just a little. With the stone and the talents of a necromancer, one could restore the life of another and open the gates from this side. If you will not do it, then perhaps your heir will.”
Lucy blanched. He wanted her to open the gates! She let go of Nephys’ hand and pulled her hair hard back from her forehead. Bringing her mother back would open the gates – she would have her mother, but then billions could die! This was unbelievable.
“For what purpose?!” Moríro demanded, “Even if you could do it, which I doubt, the Great Master would never allow it!”
“Exactly!” Hokharty exclaimed, almost pleased with his own cleverness, “If the Great Master does not want the gate opened, he will have to leave his temple and come here to stop it, himself.”
The crowd went silent.
“What are they talking about?!” Lucy asked Nephys in a hoarse whisper, “What happens if Death leaves his temple?”
Nephys gripped her hand a little tighter. It was too hard to explain. He thought over all the red-letter words he had copied in his time as a scribe and just decided to recite them out loud, “Atlantis, Krakatoa, Hiroshima, The Black Plague,” he whispered in blank-eyed fear.
Lucy looked back at him in horror.
Moríro pulled his coat a little tighter around him, as if to keep the stone safe.
“Madness!” Moríro turned in a circle like an angry dog. “MADNESS!!”
“Necromancer, please,” Hokharty pleaded, “I had hoped you, of all people, would understand. If the Great Master is to be saved we must act quickly.”
“What you are doing could be the end of the Great Master and the ruin of everything!”
“I am willing to take that risk for the sake of the continuation of the world for as long as possible. The world must continue, but it cannot continue as it is. Death has survived past cataclysms. He will survive this one, but if we do nothing, the world will be thrown into chaos. Will yo
u help me?”
Lucy and Nephys looked up at Moríro. What was he going to do?! Moríro looked scared and uncertain himself, and deeply, deeply troubled. Then he steeled himself and spoke.
“Hokharty,” he began solemnly, “I cannot express what a grave disappointment this day has been, or how much your words have troubled me.” Moríro was nearly choking up from rage. “You have been a loyal servant and friend these many years and I had come to trust your judgment and skills time and time again, but this time, you have gone too far. I fear you have lost your mind. You wish to force the hand of the Great Master and take his role on for yourself.” Moríro’s voice became like burning metal with his next words, “IT. SHALL. NOT. STAND. I regret what must be done, but it must be done.” Moríro took a breath and pronounced his judgment of Hokharty and his plans.
“You will be banished from the Halls of Death and sent to the wastes or the pits of punishment or wherever the Great Master shall see fit to send you, but you shall never again be summoned back to the land of the living.”
Moríro let go of Lucy and bit his knuckle hard. Then he stepped in front of Lucy and walked the few short steps towards Hokharty. Hokharty folded his hands behind his back and didn’t move. He bowed slightly from the neck and stood perfectly still as if awaiting his punishment like an obedient child. The whole crowd waited to see what would happen. Moríro stepped up to him and put the bloody knuckle against Hokharty’s chest. He called out Hokharty’s full name in a commanding voice, and then uttered some other words in a language Lucy didn’t know, but nothing happened.
Hokharty looked down at the bloody knuckle and then slowly looked back up at Moríro. Moríro’s face was blanch white but otherwise expressionless. What had just happened? Lucy wondered. Was there supposed to be a crack, a pop or a bang? A wisp of smoke or something? Lucy was feeling very nervous. Moríro took a step back.
