by Terri Lane
She leaned in, covering his mouth with her own. As he kissed her, he moved his hand to her vagina, sliding his fingers inside of her, teasing her clit with his fingers. She moaned against his mouth. He slid two fingers in. The electricity coming off of his fingers felt amazing. She could feel images, coming from him, but she held them off with her own power. She wanted to stay there with him—present. He began to move them in and out, massaging her as he did so. Nessa gasped as he pumped with his fingers. She rolled her head back, arching her back.
He stopped suddenly. She returned her gaze to Charlie, who was studying her with slight worry. She placed a hand on the side of his neck.
“See?” she said. “I’m still here.” He smiled. She stood up, taking him by both of his hands. She pulled him so that he was standing. She pulled off his shirt, running her hands over his smooth skin. She paused, her hand over his sternum. She could feel his heart, pounding in his chest beneath the palm of her hand. She unzipped his pants, then tugged them and his boxers down. His penis bobbed free of the fabric, fully erect. She ran her finger over it lightly, looking him in the eyes as she did so.
Nessa took him by the hand, leading him over to the bed where Ra sat, waiting. Nessa straddled Ra’s lap. He grabbed her ass, slapping it with a hand. Nessa laughed. She kissed Ra, and he ran the tip of his tongue over her teeth. She felt as Charlie sat down on the bed beside them. She turned to him, kissing him. They might have looked similar; however, their demeanors were utterly different. They tasted differently, too. Ra was spicy and musky, while Charlie was all softness.
Slowly, Nessa moved over to Charlie, wrapping her legs around him. He placed his hands on her hips. She placed herself over the tip of his penis, sliding on to him. She could feel his visions coming on. They were strong, like a wave. She used her own powers to hold them back. She began to move her hips, slowly riding the length of his cock. He ran his hands over her body. He was looking at her in surprise.
“What?” She asked.
“You can hold them back,” he said.
“Yes.” She pushed him backward on the bed, leaning forward so that Ra could enter her from behind. As he pressed the tip of his penis into the bud of her asshole, she exhaled sharply. She had never been this full before. It was sensual, erotic. She felt the flood of images from Charlie, as she continued to move along his length, and Ra began to move in and out of her, she began to lose her tightly-held grip. As she came, the flood of visions from Charlie crashed through her, like a river, a barrier torn down. She yelled out. It was exquisite—the sun rising over the ocean, a brilliant flash of light. She could see plants growing, their leaves sprouting in green profusion, and the fire, always the fire, burning brightly against the night sky, where the stars burst open in pale light.
She returned, looked down at Charlie, who lay beneath her. He looked relieved to see her returning.
“That’s what you see?” She asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and he smiled. Ra pulled out of her. He wasn’t one to be ignored. He picked her up, throwing her on her back. “Jealous?” She asked. He grinned as he entered her hard and fast. He surged in and out of her. She cried out as she writhed beneath him in pleasure. Charlie slid in behind her, sitting her up in front of him. As Ra continued to rock back and forth, Charlie whispered soft incantations in her ear, running his fingers over her skin. Nessa felt like she was on fire—as she began to come, exploding around Ra, she leaned back against Charlie, feeling his lips curve upward in a smile against her hair.
*
Nessa awoke suddenly from a deep, dreamless sleep. It was the middle of the day, the warm afternoon sun shining through the windows. She stretched luxuriously. She was still wrapped within Ra’s embrace, his sinewy and muscular arm draped over her abdomen. He was on his side, the covers down around his waist to reveal his unclothed upper torso, and his face was tucked into the space between her neck and shoulder. His breathing was soft, warm on her skin. She smiled as she sat up slowly so as not to waken him.
She frowned. She looked to her right, where Charlie’s spot on the bed was empty, an indentation on the sheets where he had lain, and the blankets thrown back hastily. Where is Charlie? She thought. She got up, wrapping a soft blue throw blanket around her. She found Charlie standing by one of the windows, a shelf obscuring him.
“Charlie?” She called softly, still trying not to wake Ra. He didn’t respond. Nessa felt uneasy, a deep sense of dread filling her as she called his name again. “Charlie? Is something wrong, dear?” This time, he turned. Nessa gasped.
Charlie’s face was grim, his expression strange. His eyes were glowing white, like twin orbs of pale light. His movements were jerky, awkward, as if he wasn’t in control of his own body. He exhaled. It sounded like a death rattle.
“Charlie?” Nessa asked. His arm shot out, grasping Nessa tightly by the wrist. His grip was strong, painful. Immediately, Nessa was pulled into his vision, the tower room and its sunshine fading to black. She looked around her. She wasn’t unconscious—that had been her first thought. She could see the outline of Charlie’s body. His eyes began to glow in the sheer darkness. She heard a voice. Frowning, she turned.
Her parents stood behind her. They were spirits, their forms nothing more than pale wisps of ectoplasm. Her father, still tall and proud, even in death. Her mother, blonde-haired and delicate. Their eyes were nothing but dark sockets, and their legs disappeared below the knee, but they were smiling at her sadly.
“Mom? Dad?” Nessa asked breathlessly, unable to believe what she was seeing.
“Hi sweetheart,” her mother said. Her mother held out a pale hand. Nessa reached out to take it, but her hand slid through it.
“How are you here?” Nessa asked.
“We’ve always been here. This is the spirit plane,” her father said, his voice soft. “The Necromancer has trapped us here.”
“So, you’re not dead?” Hope welled within her. With her parents’ powers, they could possibly defeat the Necromancer.
“We are,” her mother replied. “She’s been feeding off of us so that she can maintain her physical form in the material plane.” Nessa’s hope died. “But we can help you from here.”
“We need a weapon,” Nessa said, hoping that they could help. “To defeat her. An incantation. Ra and I tried, but I don’t think it’s strong enough.”
“Charlie’s hand,” her father said. “He’s under the power of the demon right now, but he’s still got enough of himself that he’s telling you something.” Nessa frowned and looked at Charlie. His grip was painful on her wrist.
“What is he trying to tell me?” she asked.
“Check his hand when he lets go,” her father said to her urgently. “It’s all there.”
“We have to go now, darling,” her mother said. “She’s coming.” Nessa’s heart began to pound. She knew who they were talking about. “Be brave.” Her mother’s hand caressed Nessa’s cheek—a cold brush of air against her skin.
As they disappeared into the shadows of the spirit plane, the dark shadow of the Necromancer evanesced in front of her until the Necromancer stood before her, studying her with dark eyes that showed through the holes of the mask. She wore an elaborate black dress. It had long, structured sleeves, a tight bodice, and a grand collar that came up behind her ears. She wore the Death’s Head Mask. Nessa studied her, gazing at the pale bone of the naked skull. The woman spoke, her lips painted black beneath the skull’s morbid grin.
“Nessa Kant,” she said, her voice deep, yet soft and honeyed. “I have been waiting for you to come and find me. I have heard that they covered up your parents’ deaths. Such a shame. They died so valiantly and have suffered so horribly. Usually that’s front page news.”
“Let Charlie go,” she replied firmly. He was the only one whom she could save. The Necromancer laughed.
“I think not,” she said, refusing to be swayed by mere words.
“What do you wan
t?” Nessa asked her, guessing her endgame. The woman smiled.
“Excellent question,” she remarked. She brought a black-gloved hand up and caressed Nessa’s cheek. The gloves were made of thick, soft velvet. “Several years ago, your parents and the king were the most powerful people in the country. Now the most powerful people are you and the two princes. If I control you, then I control the country. If I control the country, then maybe I can make my way out of this pit.” She said the last word with deep disdain, almost spitting it out acidly.
“My parents?” Nessa asked. She was trying to get an angle. The Necromancer nodded.
“They thought that they were the most powerful practitioners of spirit magic,” she said. “I proved them wrong. They are my thralls now, you know.”
“So, you think I inherited it?” Nessa laughed. “I’m good, but with the other four elements. You know, the ones which aren’t illegal.” She opened and closed that hand that Charlie was holding in his death grip. It was beginning to lose blood flow, and she could feel the ghostly pins and needles forming. It hurt.
“Necromancy is always inherited, my dear,” the Necromancer said in her syrup-smooth voice. “When you use your powers, I will know.”
“Let Charlie go,” Nessa repeated firmly. The Necromancer laughed.
“No, I don’t think so,” she replied. “I have given him to the demon for his plaything. You have to make a sacrifice in order to get him back from the demon.”
“What kind of a sacrifice?” Nessa presumed blood.
“You have to choose—Charlie or Imrahil. The crown prince or the savant. You can’t have both,” the Necromancer said, tilting her head to the side. “You must choose wisely, Ms. Kant. If you choose Charlie, then the country will suffer. If the country suffers, then the people will suffer. If you choose Imrahil, then Charlie’s powers go to the demon. Who knows what destruction he will enact in that case?” Nessa froze. She hadn’t realized that so much hung in the balance. She recalled Ra’s words—that Charlie, if given the predilection, had the ability to destroy worlds.
The Necromancer began to walk away, her hips slinking from side-to-side as she walked, her black-clad body fading easily into the shadows as she left the plane. Nessa roiled inside. She looked at Charlie, who was still somewhere—she had no idea where. With the demon, she thought. His eyes were those pale orbs of glowing light. She thought of Ra. He had no idea—he would have no idea where they were.
She knew that she needed to employ her spirit magic. She shut her eyes, letting herself leave her body in the spirit plane. She opened her eyes and pictured Charlie’s room. As she did so, it came into focus. It was shockingly easy. She was there—everything seemed to be in shadow, just the fraction of a second removed, wrapped within a dark mist. She saw Ra—he had awoken to find her and Charlie—they were both unconscious on the floor. Ra was kneeling over them, yelling for help. She looked at Charlie—foam was around the corners of his mouth, as though he’d had a seizure. He looked as though he were in pain.
The queen came running in. She began to scream.
“Charlie! Is he dead?” she asked frantically. She fell to her knees beside Charlie, trying to look at him.
Nessa made to walk toward her body. The queen looked directly at her, her eyes catching Nessa’s shade. That’s strange. She can see me. The queen saying nothing, turned back to Charlie. Nessa wondered if the queen had seen her. Maybe she had imagined it. Nessa waved her hand in front of Ra’s face. She began to scream at Ra. But he didn’t hear her, he was still sobbing over their bodies. Nessa looked at herself and Charlie. She suddenly realized that her chest was rising and falling. She was alive. She was still alive.
She stepped forward, letting her spirit fall into her own body. Everything went dark. And then she sat up, inhaling sharply, her lungs filling with air. Ra looked at her in relief. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.
“Nessa! You’re okay,” he said. Nessa looked over his shoulder at the queen. Her face was twisted in anger.
“What have you two done?” the queen screamed. “What did you do to him?” Her perfect porcelain face was turning bright red.
“He went too far, mother,” Ra said, appearing every inch the crown prince. “We all knew that this would be dangerous. It was bound to happen to at least one of us.” The queen closed her mouth. She looked deflated.
“I’ll go get a healer,” she said softly. Beside her, Charlie began to cough. They both turned to him. He opened his eyes, but this time, they were two black orbs. The queen began to run, her shoes clacking on the wooden floorboards. She began to yell for help as she reached the stairs.
“Nessa,” Charlie said, his voice rasping.
“What, Charlie?” she asked. He looked at her, and it seemed as though he were looking through her.
“Save me,” he said. “Save me. She gave me to him… the demon.” He began to have a seizure, his body convulsing wildly.
“Quick, mother!” Ra yelled. “A healer!” Nessa looked Charlie over as Ra tried to hold his head still to protect it. Ra began an incantation to calm the rapid energy that was flashing through Charlie’s brain. He placed his lips next to his brother’s ear, whispering the incantation. Nessa took Charlie’s hand, the one that had grasped her wrist. She noticed smeared lettering across the palm. She opened it flat. It was an incantation. It was spirit magic, which was delineated by a series of triangles with lines marked along them. Nessa had learned them from a book that she had read several years before—it was an illegal book. It had been in with her parents’ belongings when she’d cleaned out their house after the “accident.” She hadn’t questioned it at the time—her parents had been academics themselves, and prone to having strange books. However, now she knew that they’d meant for her to have it, so that she could learn the hereditary craft. She had burned it. What a mistake that had been.
Her heart paused. She memorized the incantation, then licked her finger and wiped his palm clean.
***
Nessa and Ra stood outside of the palace healer’s rooms. It was silent in the hallway. Late afternoon sunshine slanted through the open windows. Various plants were set on the window sill to catch the light. Nessa stood, her arms crossed over her chest, absentmindedly identifying the plants. They were overflow from the healer’s chambers. Ra paced frantically in front of the door. His eyes were blazing golden in his agitation, his irises black slits. Smoke was curling out of the corners of his mouth.
“It’s the visions,” he said desperately. “They’re killing him. He’ll die soon if he keeps it up.”
“When I was in the spirit plane, the Necromancer told me that he was with the demon,” Nessa said softly. Ra paused, looking at her in shock.
“You spoke with her?” He gasped.
“And my parents,” she whispered. “Things have progressed farther than we’d thought.”
“Did you ask them about our incantation?” Ra asked.
“Actually, Charlie solved it,” she replied. “He had it written on the palm of his hand.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. On it, she had neatly written the incantation out. “I think this will work.” Ra took it from her and looked at it.
“Okay,” he said, handing it back to her. “We’ll have to go in as soon as possible.” The door to the healer’s chambers opened, and the healer peered out. He was an elderly man, with a long grey beard. He wore the white robes of a healer.
“He’s sleeping,” the healer said in a hushed voice. “But you can come and see him now.”
“Will he be alright?” Ra asked. The healer looked at him gravely, gesturing for them to come in.
“It looks like a coma,” he said in an undertone as Nessa and Ra closed the door behind them. “But he’s been possessed. I can’t get the spirit out. It’s something far more powerful than I am. Something old. It requires the work of a Necromancer to get it out of him. The process may kill him.” Ra nodded. He looked over at Nessa, who had sat down on the
bed beside Charlie. She was watching the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest.
“We have to act now,” Ra said. She nodded. He looked to the healer. “Can I speak with you for a moment?” The healer nodded and they exited, leaving Nessa alone with Charlie. She looked at him. His skin was pale and covered in a thin layer of sweat. His breathing was labored. She ran her hand over his forehead. He was frowning slightly.
“I’m coming, Charlie,” she promised. She opened the folded paper with incantation on it. She could feel the power emanating from it. She didn’t know where it would take her. She had known that it wasn’t a weapon, like Ra expected and assumed. It was a path, one that she could not take Ra on. She had realized what her choice needed to be. She needed Ra to stay here. His duty was to the country. She needed to save Charlie. Her duty was to the spirit plane. She needed to purge it of the evil. In doing so, she would free Charlie. Not for her sake, but for his, and his goodness. Her answer for the Necromancer: she would choose neither. She began the incantation, feeling the power well up in her—spirit magic manipulated for the first time. It was a rush through her own blood. Her skin tingled, as if electricity was running across it in a protective layer. It was as strong as Charlie’s magic. She had been right—they were equals in strength.
“Reveller. Iter. Lamiae. Scillae. Spiritus.” As she finished uttering the words, the room exploded with a bright white light. She looked at Charlie, and his eyes were open a crack, revealing the dark black orbs. He was grinning maniacally—completely unlike himself.
“You’ve freed me.” The voice came from Charlie’s mouth, but it was not his own. It was gleeful, triumphant. It wasn’t human—it sounded neither male nor female. It was the demon’s, she realized with a start. Just as Nessa felt herself being pulled away to the other plane, the door burst open, and Ra entered. She held out her hand and he took it, just as they were pulled away to the other plane. They heard the demon in Charlie laughing as they went.
