by Jonah Hewitt
Then Lucy grabbed a shovel, took a breath and poured the first shovel of earth into the grave herself.
Tim picked up the other shovel and started to help. Soon, the body was covered and Lucy had to quit for a moment and sit down and hold her hands over her eyes, as if to keep the tears from escaping. Miles and Nephys joined in and before long, the hole was filled.
When the last shovel of earth was dropped on the fresh grave, Lucy sat down on top of it, tucked her knees in under herself and just sat quietly. The remaining onlookers slowly filed away and left for their haunts before the dawn arrived. Tim, Miles and Nephys watched longer than the others, but eventually they left Lucy alone. Hiero was the very last one to leave.
Hokharty stood and watched Lucy from the garden doors of the old manor. Lucy sat by her mother’s grave in the clearing. She wasn’t weeping, but she was silent. Dawn was fast approaching; the sky was already growing light. Graber was marshalling the other vampires around the manor, securing the doors and windows, making Rivenden ready for the day and overseeing the departure of the last of the remaining undead, skeletons and mummies, who had left in small groups in different directions, according to Hokharty’s instructions.
Tim was standing near the Father of All Vampires, equally numb. Schuyler was just inside, gingerly laying down on the hood of the Impala, still high centered on the dais, the five now-tattered kittens lovingly tending their patient. He had even found a lollipop somewhere. This one was lime green. Miles and Nephys were hovering nearby as well. Finally, Tim cleared his throat and took a step closer to the old vampire.
As Tim approached, Hokharty spoke absent-mindedly in an airy voice, never turning to face Tim, as if speaking more to himself as much as to anyone else.
“I have brought great harm to this world. I have disobeyed the Necromancer and the Great Master. I have risked the whole world and worked for the destruction of all mankind. I have much to answer for, Timothy.”
Tim shrugged. There wasn’t much he could argue with that. As far as he was concerned, Hokharty had pretty much screwed up as much as anybody could, then turned the whole thing inside out and screwed it up again, but he didn’t feel the need to rub that in just now.
“But I feel most for this little girl,” Hokharty continued, “I believe I have done her irreparable harm.”
Tim snorted. “That’s an understatement,” he said sarcastically under his breath.
Hokharty turned to face Tim and looked at him directly. “Do not worry. I will be called to make account of my stewardship very shortly, Timothy, but in the time I have left, I must make amends where I can. I shall start with you, Mr. Riggle,” he said simply. Tim tightened a little. He still wasn’t used to Hokharty addressing him like he was an equal. “I promised you that I could either make you the most famous doctor in human history or I could return you to your ordinary life. I stand now by that promise. What is your choice?”
Tim didn’t have to think very long. After the last few days, fame had very little appeal.
“I’d like my old life back if you don’t mind, sir,” Tim said exhausted, “But I don’t know how that’s even possible.”
“How do you mean?” Hokharty asked simply.
Tim sighed. Where to begin? Tim listed the offences off on his fingers. “I’ve been caught on video stealing bodies, my car was implicated in a hit and run in Harrisburg – I’m pretty sure they got the plates – not to mention that I’m a suspect in the kidnapping of a little girl, or the trashing of a roadside diner.” Tim stuck his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie and sighed. “Forgive me sir, but I just don’t see how it’s possible to get my old life back, let alone my job.”
“I see,” said Hokharty. He rolled his fingers together close to his face for a moment and then turned to face Tim again. “Do you think your vehicle can be made operational?”
Tim looked at the high-centered Impala with Schuyler and the kittens sprawled on it and just shook his head. “Maybe…I dunno…why?” he asked cautiously.
“I believe I have a solution. I believe that the body I currently occupy, as well as the body Graber occupies, belonged to criminals before we took possession of them. We can take you and your vehicle into the city and attract the attention of the authorities. I believe we can convince them that you were our hostage and under duress and blameless for those activities associated with you and your vehicle.” Sensing Tim’s nervousness, Hokharty reassured him, “Trust me Timothy, I can be very persuasive.” Tim knew that was true at least. Hokharty went on. “After an appropriate show of force, we can allow ourselves to be killed and you will be rescued. When they examine the bodies they will discover exactly what they expect to find, corpses, and none will be the wiser.”
Tim let a breath out between his lips and scratched his head. “I dunno. They already had you two as dead in the morgue already. Do you think they will buy it?”
Hokharty smiled. “What do you think is more likely, that they will believe that they accidentally misdiagnosed two known criminals as deceased and that they escaped? Or that those bodies were possessed by a five-thousand-year-old vampire and a one-thousand-year-old zombie master involved in a conspiracy to destroy the earth?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Tim snorted.
“Good,” Hokharty said, satisfied, “Then it’s decided, but before I go I must say, Tim, I have seen you bear up under substantial difficulty where other men would have failed. This, I believe, demonstrates that you have the makings of an excellent physician, should you choose it, of course.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to my mother.”
If Hokharty picked up on Tim’s sarcasm at all, he didn’t show it. “Perhaps I will, but before then, we must see to the others.”
Hokharty approached Lucy carefully and Tim followed not far behind.
“Necromancer,” Hokharty said to Lucy as gently as he could, “My apologies for the interruption. May I approach you?” He bowed low and waited for her to reply.
Lucy looked up, distracted. She wasn’t used to that title just yet. She stood up cautiously and faced him, looking him over uncertainly, as if she didn’t know if she could trust him.
“What do you want?” she said a little testily.
He remained bowed. “I realize I have caused you great harm that I cannot possibly make right, but before you send me away, I hope that I may be of some service to you.”
Lucy stood silently for a long while. Then she pulled her hair behind her ears and bit her lip as if thinking it over.
“All right,” she said at last, “What did you have in mind?” She tried to put her hands in her back pockets before she remembered she was still wearing those stupid pajamas and the bathrobe, so she settled for folding her arms across her chest instead.
The vampire stood up slowly and took a few steps closer to her.
“My actions have cost you both a guardian and a mentor. Without someone to teach you, and protect you, I fear you may fall into even greater danger.”
Lucy raised her eyebrows. “Are you offering to be my mentor?” Lucy asked incredulously.
Hokharty smiled a nervous smile. “No, Necromancer, I believe I have proven I would be a very poor mentor indeed.”
Lucy “hmmphed” at him. “You can say that again,” she muttered under her breath.
“But I believe I know someone who would be an excellent one.”
Lucy bit her lip again and looked down. “OK.” She fidgeted a while longer before saying, “Who?”
A few minutes later Lucy was inside kneeling beside the body of Lazlo Moríro. Graber had fetched it and laid it out neatly on the floor of the dais. Nephys, Tim and even Hiero crowded for a closer look. Hokharty stood encouragingly at Lucy’s shoulder.
Lucy sighed, “Let me get this straight. I can summon any past necromancer, like my great uncle, into any available unoccupied body?”
Hokharty smiled. “Yes, and on rare occasion, occupied bodies as well, though it is not recommended. It is ve
ry unusual to summon a necromancer so soon after death, and to his own body even, but I believe it is the best solution available to you.”
Lucy wrinkled her nose. “But I can’t summon my own mother?”
“That is the rule, Necromancer,” Hokharty said solemnly, “Only past necromancers may be summoned and your mother, while she had the gift, was never a necromancer.”
“That hardly seems fair,” Lucy griped.
“Normally, I would agree with you, Necromancer,” Hokharty said plainly, “but this night has taught me a new appreciation for the rules, especially the ones I don’t understand.”
Lucy just had to nod in silent agreement.
“So how do I start this?” Lucy said annoyed.
“It is the same as before, Necromancer,” Hokharty said with the greatest deference, “An offering of blood must be made, and then you must call them forth by name.”
“So what words do I use? And in what language?”
“As this is the first time Moríro has ever been summoned, you may choose the words yourself. The construction can be very simple, such as ‘Come forth, Lazlo Moríro’ but it is customary to use the native language of the person being summoned.”
Lucy smirked. Knowing Moríro, he probably wouldn’t come for anything less than proper Spanish.
“May I suggest ‘Moríro, Ven,’ Necromancer?” Hokharty offered, “It is simple and easy to remember and would probably be acceptable to Lazlo.”
Lucy sighed. She bit her knuckle again and had to close her eyes to do it. She hated doing that. No matter what Moríro said, she wasn’t going to make a habit of that. She pressed the blood against Moríro’s black doublet and spoke the words.
“Moríro, Ven!”
Unlike before when her blood turned into a writhing snake when she summoned Hokharty, the blood crackled and sparked like coals on a fire. It turned into a bright orange flame that slowly floated over the body before coming to rest on Moríro’s forehead like a tongue of fire. Lucy thought it strange that every person summoned was different. The flame descended into his head silently. There was a pause, and then slowly, Moríro blinked his eyes. They were clouded. Even though his spirit or essence or whatever it was, had returned, his body was still dead.
Moríro sat up. He looked angry as usual. He exchanged a very tense look with Hokharty before turning to face Lucy.
He bowed from the neck simply and said, “Necromancer,” though it looked as though it pained him to do so.
Moríro stood up and looked around awkwardly as if he didn’t know how to conduct himself when he wasn’t in charge. Lucy felt awkward as well, and had no idea what to say. Fortunately, Tim broke the ice better than anyone.
“Dude, that’s gotta be weird being on the other side of this thing, isn’t it?”
“Quite,” Moríro said, somewhat embarrassed. He was twitching and fidgeting, pulling on his clothes as if he was still getting used to his body being dead all around him. Lucy wondered how much weirder it must be to be summoned into someone else’s body. Then she thought about her future and how someday she might be summoned into someone else’s corpse. She shuddered and tried not to think about it, and for once, she was glad she couldn’t summon her mother back like this. It was just too disturbing to think about.
Hokharty smiled an officious smile. “The Necromancer has summoned you here to be her mentor and tutor in all the arts of the order. I can think of no one else more qualified. Will you accept?”
Moríro replied in an equally overbearing manner. “It is not my place to accept or not to accept. I serve at the Necromancer’s request.” Moríro said that last part with particular contempt. He was obviously not over Hokharty’s recent disloyalty. “If that is her wish, I will gladly accept.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. She hoped it wasn’t always this formal. His tone betrayed the sincerity of the words. Lucy could tell he was only begrudgingly accepting because he felt he had no choice in the matter.
Hokharty turned to Moríro. “And may I just say to the former Necromancer…” he paused and looked as if he was searching for the right words, but he finally settled on something simple, “I’m sorry… sorry I did not follow your counsel.”
Moríro rolled his eyes and said nothing. It was not easy to forgive someone for nearly destroying the world after all.
“Now, Necromancer, if I may beg an indulgence,” Hokharty asked turning to Lucy.
“Yes?” Lucy and Moríro said together. Moríro looked embarrassed, he was obviously having a hard time with this, but he forced himself to step aside and bowed once to Lucy for good measure.
“What is it?” Lucy asked Hokharty once Moríro had stepped aside.
“My children, Necromancer,” Hokharty spoke almost choking up, “The vampires. I hope you will hold them blameless for my actions.”
Lucy widened her eyes at him, but he wasn’t finished.
“They are not now what they were meant to be. I have left them alone for too long. I would ask the Necromancer’s assistance in helping them.”
“How?” Lucy asked puzzled.
“May I?” Hokharty asked reaching for her hand with the bloody knuckle.
Lucy cautiously held out her hand. Hokharty took it and walked her over to where Schuyler was draped over the broken Impala. The kittens parted as the Father of All Vampires and the new Necromancer came forward. Schuyler tensed and groaned as he sat up. The last time she had touched him with a bloody finger he had been flung across the road.
“A vampire can heal in time, but there is no need to prolong their suffering. Your blood can heal as well as harm,” Hokharty said, recognizing Schuyler’s apprehension.
As Lucy saw him, she realized what a wreck he was. His back was one large, bloody laceration. His throat was swollen and broken. His hand was wrecked with several twisted fingers, and one ankle was bent out at an odd angle. Graber had put him through the wringer, and Lucy was suddenly a bit embarrassed by how much pain she had put him through, all of them really.
Hokharty led her up to Schuyler and held her knuckle out towards his chest, but he let go of her hand when her knuckle was still just a few inches away and stepped back. She felt awkward just standing there, holding out her knuckle to Schuyler like it was gun.
“What do I do now?” she whispered back at Hokharty. She looked up at Schuyler, but he just gave her a wily smirk.
“Your blood can harm, but it can also heal. Think of what you wish to do and touch your finger to him.”
Lucy looked up at Schuyler. Hurt or heal? First she thought about the gift shop and the drive in the Impala and how he had lied to her. Schuyler looked a little nervous. She must have been scowling at him. At least he didn’t take her actions for granted anymore. Then she thought of his wounds and cleared her head. She didn’t want anyone to suffer anymore, even a vampire, even as big a liar as Schuyler. She pressed her knuckle against his naked chest. There was no loud crack or sudden noise like before. Instead, it felt cold at first, but then the warmth spread through her hand and into his chest. She could feel the life energy of her blood entering him. As it passed through him, she saw his ankle straighten and the fingers gradually bend back to their normal positions. The scratches and scrapes on his back disappeared.
Sky looked in wonder at the fixed hand and moved the fingers back and forth repeatedly like a child with a new toy. It was like their lives were joining, her lifeblood mingling with his. Their eyes met and it was like all the hard feelings melted away with his wounds. It was magical. For a moment, he looked just like that boy she had first met in the gift shop, and not the stuck-up prick she knew him to be. Only then did she realize she was no longer touching him with just her knuckle, but that both her hands had somehow found their way onto his naked chest where they were spread out across his pectoral muscles.
She pulled back suddenly and looked away pulling her hair behind her ears repeatedly. Sky laughed and then hopped down from the car hood somewhat triumphantly.
“That. Was.
Something. Else,” he said at last, “I wonder. What do you taste like, freckles?! Better than strawberries, I bet,” he said twirling the lollipop.
Lucy just huffed. What an impossible prick. She turned to go, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. She reacted violently and pulled away, but he held up his hands to show he meant her no harm.
“Thanks,” he said simply. She just nodded and left. No sooner had she retreated than the five kittens came back in to claim their territory like jealous lovers. She even heard Schuyler say “Ouch,” as one of them nipped him a little too affectionately.
Hokharty asked Lucy to heal all the vampires. She did so in turn, healing cuts and scrapes and all of them seemed to not only appreciate it, but to regard it with wonder and amazement. They had never seen the effects of a necromancer before. They were changed somehow. It was more than just a healing. It was a bonding. Their smug faces softened. They were less pretty, but more earnest.
Graber just turned and walked off when she came forward. Wounds didn’t seem to hamper him at all. Last of all, she came to Miles. Miles quickly hid his hands behind his back and just shrugged.
“It’s fine, I’m good,” he said, trying to shrug it off.
“Oh, don’t be such a big baby,” she said, grabbing at one of his hands. They were like hamburger. He had dug all that time on her mother’s grave with hands like that and never complained. She was only beginning to realize how much pain she had caused by her actions. If she had only said “no” to Amanda from the beginning, none of this would have happened. Miles reluctantly let her take his hands. She held the bloody finger to him, his hands started to heal, but it didn’t feel warm like with Sky, it felt cold and odd and awkward. Something powerful was pushing back towards her. It was not like with the others. Instead of her life mixing with him, his life force was mixing with hers – only his was dark and terrifying. She pulled back and let go, but the healing didn’t stop. It was as if she only needed to awaken what was inside of him and now it was doing it all on its own. The healing continued until he was nearly restored. He looked down at his perfectly cured hands and smiled.
