by Tobias Wade
The students filed uneasily into the room. “You could have at least put a sheet over them,” Dolly Miller said, averting her eyes from the naked bodies.
“Or some underwear,” Elizabeth Washent mumbled, crinkling her rabbit nose.
“Why?” Professor Wilst asked. “You are not your organic body, and need feel no shame. You are not bound by death, and need feel no fear. One student per body, spread out.”
Noah chose the body of a very fat man with a long drooping mustache to stand beside. He seemed comical enough to rob some of the unpleasantness from the situation. Jamie took an old woman nearby with skin that sagged so much it looked like it might drip right off the table, and Walter stood by what once might have been an attractive woman, if you could get by the bullet hole in the side of her head. Mrs. Robinson never showed up at all.
All the students kept a healthy distance from their bodies except for the blonde boy, Sandy, who found it enormously entertaining trying to open and close the mouth of his corpse as if it were speaking. He quickly gave up though when his hands kept passing through the body as if it was just an illusion.
“These are corporal bodies, and you have no physical force with which to move them,” the Professor said. Then in a commanding voice, he added, “Excieo.”
Bright yellow light ran up his metal staff, running through his hand and radiating out through his body before bursting into the air. Radiant yellow sparks rained down softly like rain throughout the whole classroom. Students either dove to get out of the way or actively reached out to try and grab them. As the sparks settled amongst the bodies, they all opened their eyes simultaneously to stare vacantly at the ceiling. There was a loud scuffle as curious students quickly backpedaled away from their tables, bumping into one another as they did.
“Consurgo,” the Professor commanded. The bodies all sat fluidly upright, their arms hanging limply at their sides. “By the end of the semester, I’ll expect all of you to be able to awaken and command your own zombie. Incapable of independent thoughts or feelings, these spiritual puppets grant us a corporal servant to influence the living world. While a living person is a single spirit within a single body, the animation of objects or corpses is the process of dividing the necromancer’s spirit amongst the things he wishes to control. This can leave the necromancer weak and vulnerable. When you are ready to return your spirit, you must put the objects under your control to sleep with the spell: Somnus.”
At this command the bodies uniformly collapsed back to the table, their eyes closed once more.
“Notebooks out,” the Professor commanded in the same authoritative tone he used to animate the bodies. The bones of his toes clattered with each step as he paced between the dormant corpses. “Zombies are the simplest form of undead. Some, such as myself, have chosen to escape the endless cycle of rebirth by choosing to permanently inhabit a corpse. My own corpse, in fact. This is known as a lich. All spirits can focus their power using a bit of their corporal remains, which is what you will be using your stuffed animals for.
“Other notable undead you will become familiar with include the poltergeist, spirits which can interact with the corporal world, vampires, whose corporal bodies use living blood to strengthen their connection to the other side, and the dwellers, which overpower the spirit of living beings to control them. The process of becoming a dweller will not be taught in this class, and they are not welcome in polite society.”
“Why does it feel like we’re getting career counseling?” Walter whispered.
“Is that what this is?” Noah whispered back. “I thought it sounded more like a retirement plan.”
“Textbooks out,” barked Professor Wilst. “You should all have a copy of Understanding Undead: The Spirit’s Guide to the Other Side by Salvadore Frann. Please open to Chapter 1: You’re Only As Dead As You Act.”
Noah was surprised to find himself disappointed that they did not get to use the bodies for anything yet, but he still quite enjoyed the rest of the lesson which elaborated on the four types of undead creatures. He felt somehow uncomfortable reading the definition of life though, which read only, ‘Life: The short duration in which a spirit borrows a biological body and fights everybody and everything to avoid returning it to the biological system it was taken from.’
“I don’t think necromancy is for me,” Jamie said as they were leaving the class. “I’d much rather be a rabbit or a bird than any of those grizzly things.”
“I would have thought you’d want to be a cat again,” Noah said.
“Maybe,” Jamie replied in contemplation, “but oh, there are so many more things to try. And what if I can’t keep finding my way back to life? We can’t all be Chainers.”
“We could though, couldn’t we?” Noah asked as they ascended the stairs. “Didn’t the book on Transhumanism say that souls were only created every few millennia? So the rest of you must have been doing something this whole time.”
“I wish we could find out what,” Jamie said. “I’d rather be learning about that than all these supernatural encounters we have to read. What do I care whether it was a vampire or a ghoul that bit her? She’s just as dead either way, isn’t she?”
There was a hub of activity on the ground floor of The Mortuary. An energetic fiddle was accompanied by a lively drumbeat. Colorful pamphlets were exchanging hands, and students were chatting with excitement as they rushed to exit the front doors. A line of large tree stumps were arranged outside, each decorated with posters and stacks of cards, as well as the occasional dismembered hand, crystal ball, tarot deck, and doll. Noah recognized some of the same villagers who had greeted them now sitting behind the stumps.
“They can bury you, but they can’t keep you down,” shouted an olive-skinned woman with long, curly, black hair and fingers so filled with rings that it was a wonder she could still bend them. “Two apprenticeships remaining. Get Cassandra’s Kill Counseling Certificate here and start helping people cope with the rope.”
Dolly Miller slipped past Noah and approached the stump to speak with Cassandra.
“Help the right spirits reach the right mediums,” announced a tall thin man with yellow vertical stripes along his suit. “Single apprenticeship available, easy to fit in after class. First years welcome.” His sign read: ‘Spiritual Operator’.
“You there—girl with the ginger head,” an ample woman wearing a bright orange dress and a large black belt called to Jamie. Jamie pointed at herself in surprise, and the large woman nodded enthusiastically. “Yes you, darling. You remind me of the babe.”
“What babe?” Jamie asked, allowing herself to be drawn in.
“The babe with the power,” the woman replied in the hushed tone of a conspiracy.
“What power?” Jamie asked again, quite mystified.
“The power of voodoo!” the woman shouted, barely able to contain herself. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to pay somebody back for the horrible things they’ve done. A pretty girl like you must have broken some hearts and made some enemies in her life.”
“I should hope not!” Jamie said. “No thank you, I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“How about doll stitching?” the woman called. “They won’t feel the needle yet, what do you say?”
Jamie hurried away, but Teresa swooped into her place to take one of the pamphlets. The sign read ‘Ungela Granka’s Voodoo. A nearby sign read ‘Miss Thatchers Witchery: Curses and Broom Delivery.’
“What’s going on?” Noah asked, turning in wonder.
“Oh that’s right, you weren’t in the village so you must have missed it,” Jamie replied. “We all have to work an apprenticeship alongside our classwork. That way we’ll have career options if we aren’t able to resurrect right away, plus the work covers the tuition of the school. Any idea what you’re going to do?”
Noah spotted Walter speaking with the Spiritual Operator.
“Hey—Chainer kid,” Bowser barked, wagging ferociously. He was sitting by a sign which re
ad, ‘Supernautical Activity’.
“It’s Noah,” he replied, approaching.
“Okay Noah. This guy is looking for a Chainer to help power his underwater expedition. They’re researching sea spirits—want in?”
The grizzled seaman tipped an end of his white captain’s hat toward Noah. There was a lull in the general conversation as multiple villagers turned their attention on the Chainer in their midst. The ensuing wave of noise assaulted Noah from every direction.
“Don’t settle for him, I’ve got—”
“A Chainer would be wasted on—”
“Why don’t you give back and do some good—”
And a dozen other calls which jumbled over one another. As soon as they’d begun, the calls all cut short as the attention was diverted directly behind Noah. He felt a very human chill run down his spine as a hard, cold hand closed around his shoulder, one curling finger at a time.
“There is no need for such commotion,” Professor Salice said from behind Noah’s ear. “The Chainer boy will already be working as my apprentice this semester. Isn’t that right, Noah Tellaver?”
Noah thought quickly whether he’d told Professor Salice his last name before deciding that he definitely had not. Did he already know something about Mandy? If so, then Salice’s words sounded like a threat.
“Yeah,” Noah mumbled. “Yeah I said I’d…” and his voice trailed off. He turned around to look at Professor Salice whose tight smile was putting unnatural stress upon his face which peeled back around the ears.
“Tuesday at nightfall then, before our first class on Wednesday,” Salice said. “Don’t forget to bring your letter.” With that he turned to go back inside The Mortuary, not giving Noah the least chance to respond or change his mind.
“Demons are my favorite thing, Professor,” Brandon called, hurrying to intercept Salice. “I’d make a much better apprentice than him—”
“Absolutely he would,” Noah agreed readily. “I’d probably summon a fairy by mistake, klutz that I am.”
Professor Salice didn’t slow his pace or turn his head in the least. “You disgraced yourself on the bus already,” he replied. “Don’t waste my time.”
Brandon was at his ugliest wearing the mean, spiteful look he now possessed upon his face. It was almost as if he had wanted to be rejected just so he could have something to be angry about. Noah had never seen someone look so pleased to be furious.
“What’s your problem? I agreed with you,” Noah said.
“Of course. After-all, you’re so much better than me,” Brandon said.
Noah wouldn’t have minded if Brandon had yelled at him. This clearly fake, goading voice was far more sinister. Noah said nothing and turned to look for his friends. Jamie was speaking to Professor Humstrum, although the ape didn’t have any kind of booth or table.
“You’re better than everyone here, aren’t you?” Brandon pressed, stepping closer. “You don’t need us. You already know how to go back to life, don’t you? So what are you doing?”
“I don’t remember how I did it before,” Noah replied. “I’m not any better than anyone.”
“Yes you are,” Brandon said, his voice lowering to a hiss as he got nearer. “But when I was alive, I was twice the man you ever were. People worshiped the ground I walked on, and I’m going to get that power again. And when I do—”
Brandon lurched toward Noah, forcing him to flinch and stumble backward. Brandon caught himself halfway and laughed at Noah for retreating. Noah was ready to throw the first real punch when Professor Humstrum passed by with Jamie tagging along at his heels.
“Hey, Noah!” she called. “I’m going to help Professor Humstrum take care of the bestiary this semester. Do you want to come with us to do your tranhumanism assignment?”
Noah readily agreed, grateful for a chance to slip away from Brandon. He followed the Professor along the stone path which was flanked by rows of tall juniper trees toward The Mortuary tower with the lion on it. Before the door had even opened, he could hear the stirrings of massive feet and a graveled roar which shook the dust from stones.
“Go ahead and put out your hand then—palm facing down, just let him sniff you,” Professor Humstrum said. “That’s right, he’s not going to hurt you. Everything needs a reason to fight, but getting along is its own reason.”
Jamie closed her eyes and stuck out her hand a little farther. A black tongue half the length of her arm curled over her wrist, slithering its way up round and round as if tasting her.
“This doesn’t feel like sniffing!” Jamie said, still clenching her eyes shut.
“Hold very still now. If you squirm too much he’s going to feel threatened,” the Professor said.
“He’s going to feel threatened!” Jamie exclaimed. “I’m the one being eaten by a —”
“A baku,” Professor said cheerfully. “The dream eater. Cassandra has several of them working in her counseling facility. Some spirits will keep having nightmares about their death, but a baku doesn’t mind the taste.”
The tongue slackened in pressure enough for Jamie to politely disentangle herself. The baku—which could have almost passed for a dog until it turned around to reveal its elephantine tusks and trunk—fell back onto its haunches and blinked its vacant white eyes. Jamie discreetly turned around before furiously wiping her arm on her t-shirt.
“This place is wonderful,” Jamie sighed, turning in a slow circle to take in the tower.
The entire building was a single massive room which was flooded with the light of thousands of will-o-wisps which flew together in a massed swarm, giving the appearance of a fiery sun which floated throughout the space. Trees and plants were growing everywhere like a greenhouse, although the room was divided into distinct biospheres. Snow fell softly from the arched ceiling, icing the tops of the trees where furry animals slid and chased one another. An open stream gurgled from a hole in one of the walls, creating a waterfall which fed into a pristine tundra formed entirely on another layer of branches.
From there the water drained down through the leaves as a heavy rain, creating a tropical rainforest a little further down. There was hardly a dribble of water left by the time it made it all the way to the ground, where stretches of sandy desert and grassy savanna gave ample space to walk around.
“The baku is not the only myth based on reality,” the Professor said, turning to stroll through the desert sand. “You’d be amazed at how often a Chainer or a psychic of some sort sees a spiritual creature and then tells everybody who will listen, whether they can see it or not. You’ll be looking after the baku’s schedule now, making sure he’s gotten a walk through the graveyard every morning before people wake up so he can get a nice breakfast in. Oh, and when it comes to cleaning up after him, I should warn you that sometimes when he eats an especially foul nightmare he can leave a rather unpleasant… oh, well, you’ll figure it out, don’t you worry.”
Jamie gave Noah a beseeching ‘help me’, sort of look.
“You’ll be fine,” Noah replied, grinning. The prospect of being Salice’s assistant didn’t seem half as bad anymore, at least assuming imps could clean up after themselves.
There must have been a lot of creatures living here because the odor was thick enough to taste. It wasn’t a necessarily a bad odor—something like sweet curry—but the prevalence and potency would have surely been sickening if Noah’s digestive system still whirred.
Noah and Jamie followed the Professor toward the back of the room, pointing out key aspects of the facility such as feed cabinets, medical supplies, and a dauntingly large shovel caked with something pink that smelled like frosting.
“Don’t let the smell fool you,” the Professor said, gesturing at the shovel. “You don’t want to touch anything that comes out of the jinn.”
An angular green face with long, pointed, overlapping teeth leered out of a hole in the sand. Noah recognized a few of the animals, such as the restlessly pacing manticore with its scorpion tail flicking
over its back, as well as the cyclops at least twice his height who was shaking a fig tree to knock all the fruits onto the ground.
The vast majority were like nothing Noah had ever seen before though. Many looked like conventional wild animals until they turned to reveal part of them as something else entirely, and those with human faces were especially disconcerting as they turned and watched them pass. There were small scaly creatures and giant eyeballs with a dozen irises, and even two-dimensional things which disappeared at the wrong angle. Despite this maddening variety, it was apparent that most of the life was still hidden and rustling through the higher biospheres in the trees.
“The harpys do most of the work mind you, although they spend a disproportionate amount of time with the birds in the upper floors,” the Professor said. “If any of the critters ever give you trouble, a harpy is always only a screech away.” Then turning back to Noah, he added, “Find any affinitys yet? A Chainer is likely to have been all sorts of creatures before.”
Noah was staring at an iridescent turtle shell which not only reflected Noah’s image, but actually morphed into a replica of his face to stare back at him until he turned away. “I don’t think so,” Noah said.
“Ah, well, no need to bother yourself then,” the Professor sighed. “I always hope we’ll get a real animal Chainer one day, but maybe you were just human all the way back. Nothing wrong with humans, not most of them anyway. Nothing to feel ashamed about.”
“Thanks,” Noah said. “I’ll try not to let it bother me.”
In fact he was doing a very good job of not minding in the least, but the Professor still circled back to clap a sympathetic hand against the middle of Noah’s back. The antelope staff stuck out its tongue at Noah in what he could only assume to be an insult.
“If you aren’t sure you can always touch one of them,” the Professor said. “I’ve left a spell in here to help the students. An affinity will be clearly seen by the scarlet sparks—”
