The Necromancer: The Reluctant Apprentice

by Rani Clark

  “Jaska! Check this one out,” Ty motioned to the giant grandfather clock. “It’s got a guillotine thing going on. Awesome.”

  “That is a classical French grandfather clock modified for a gothic home. When the family was murdered the owner of the store took possession of the clock.”

  “You . . . you aren’t the owner?”

  “No. The gentleman who owns this shop is in the back. He mostly works on the clocks all day.” He smiled, “New to town? You both sound American.”

  “I’m visiting my grandparents,” Jaska replied.

  “Who are your grandparents?”

  “The Byrne’s.”

  “They are nice folks. Your grandmother made that stained glass window above the door.”

  Jaska wanted to meet the owner of the store, but he made polite small talk with the pudgy man until they left twenty minutes later. Ty looked back, “That was cool. Why were you staring at the door?”

  “What?”

  “The back door.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  He didn’t know why he was so curious. He supposed it was because his grandparents had told him not to. The rest of the day went by without an incident. Jaska didn’t remember the last time he had felt this good about being anywhere. When they got back to the house Margo was there with their grandparents eating pizza.

  “How was your day?”

  “It was fun. We visited some shops, got some ice cream,” Jaska told them. He didn’t mention going into the clock shop. They had been told to avoid it and had still gone in.

  “Great! Tomorrow should be even more fun,” Mina said with a smile.

  They ate pizza and enjoyed the cake Mina had made before watching some German cartoons. It was a comfortable night and they went to bed at eleven. Jaska got into his pajamas as Ty did the same. He glanced at his friend. There was a large bruise on his side and a scar on his back. He didn’t bother asking about it, Ty most likely didn’t want to talk about it. Jaska crawled into the soft bed and shimmied underneath the covers as Ty turned off the light.

  “Did you mean what you said?” Jaska asked in the complete darkness.

  “About what?” Ty turned over so that he was lying on his side.

  “About trying to find a person to date?”

  “Oh. Well, maybe. I mean . . . the language barrier is a bit of a problem, but I would like to try. Why?”

  “I was only curious. Goodnight.” He turned to face the wall and closed his eyes; tomorrow would be a fun day with his grandparents in the forest.

  5

  The Black Forest was a place steeped in legend and lore. People disappeared within its boundaries and were never found again. Where they were going was a less touristy part of the forest. They woke up at nine and got ready for the hike. The weather was nice enough that they didn’t have to start early to keep from getting the worst heat of the day. Jaska took a quick shower before getting dressed for the day.

  “Breakfast!” Mina called down the hall.

  Ty and Margo were still in their pajamas as they sat down to oatmeal. Jaska stirred brown sugar and apples into his oatmeal. Hiking wasn’t something he often did. In fact, it had been years since he had gone although he walked around town by himself all of the time.

  “This is the best oatmeal I’ve ever had,” Ty said. “Usually I just have the packaged stuff.”

  “I pride myself on my oatmeal,” Byron told them. “Breakfast foods are my specialty. I’ll make waffles tomorrow.”

  Ty helped clean up after breakfast while Margo took a shower. Jaska took to helping his grandfather pack their lunches, making turkey sandwiches along with a few peanut butter and jelly ones. He cut one of the sandwiches in half before placing it in a baggie. As he placed it into the cooler he thought about asking his grandfather about the clock maker. However, if he asked more questions he knew Byron would be suspicious.

  “So Jaska, how is everything? I know what your mother’s been telling me, but I don’t know what you think about it.”

  Jaska opened the fridge and placed the cheese back into the drawer. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He sighed, “My father is . . . I don’t like seeing him. I don’t like being scared or not having control of certain things.”

  “Certain things?”

  “I want to forget it while I’m here.”

  Byron sighed heavily, “He was so nice when we met him. I guess people change.”

  “Or are good at hiding what they really are. What are those?” he changed the subject, motioning to small round cakes his grandfather was placing into containers.

  “They’re called forest cakes. You’ll like them.” He sealed the container, “Jaska, I know your father hurt you. I know it hurts to see him, but you’re strong and I have faith you can get through this.” He held up his hands, “I’ve said my piece, I’ll leave it be.”

  Ty appeared in the doorway, “We’re ready to go if you guys are.”

  “Ready to go.” Byron zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

  Jaska followed and soon they were on their way into the dark forest. The sunlight pierced the trees until they began to walk further down the trail. Byron kept Gus on a leash. The little dog was happily skipping along. Ty looked around with wide eyes at the trees encroaching in on them as they walked. It was a nice cool day for hiking and no one complained as the gradient became slightly steeper and they rounded a bend. Jaska was reminded of fairy tales. Somewhere there should be a massive wolf waiting for them, wanting to lure them into a house to be eaten. He smiled at the thought. To the best of his knowledge there were no longer wolves in Germany. Foxes maybe, but not wolves or bears. He wished there were those types of animals; he would like to see them in the wild.

  Mina held up her hand for them to stop. She bent down and looked at the ground, “We’re in luck! There’s some deer around here. Hopefully we’ll see them. They aren’t too skittish around these parts.”

  Ty wasn’t an outdoors person like this. Jaska was aware that he only played sports. He didn’t camp or hike. This would have been his first trip. Jaska’s stomach began to growl as the day progressed. Mina stepped off the trail and led them deeper into the woods. Jaska was about to say something until he heard the sound of a river. They emerged into a clearing overshadowed by a giant rock. Much to his surprise there was a clear pool of water being fed by a small river.

  “Wow!” he gasped at the sight. “This is beautiful.”

  “We thought this would be a great place to break for lunch,” Byron said with a smile. He set the bag down.

  Ty did the same and ran to the water, “Oh my god, this is awesome!”

  Mina set the blanket down on the grass, “Glad you like it. It’s our secret spot. We found it by accident one day.”

  Jaska took one of the sandwiches and walked across the clearing. He stepped back into the trees and looked around. The laughter of Margo and Ty were drowned out by the trees as he walked. He turned to go back when his foot caught on a branch and he found himself caught off balance. Jaska gasped as he fell back, slamming into the ground before tumbling head-over-heels down a small incline. He lost his sandwich on the way down and hit his head on a rock. Groaning, he sat up and put his hand to his head. From the looks of things, he had fallen down an incline into a shallow ravine. He wasn’t all the way down and had managed to land on a ledge. It was amazing that he had landed on the ledge at all. Jaska pushed himself to his knees and turned to look down at how far he could have fallen. It might not have killed him, but it would have hurt and possibly broken something.

  It was dark and covered in leaves. He looked down at the river that was running along far from where he was. Much to his surprise he saw a person standing at the bottom. It was the person that had been in the clock shop and at the train station. He was standing near the river. At his feet was a man, kneeling. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, blood covered his face and had dripped onto his shirt. The wel
l-dressed man had a knife in his gloved hand and was talking to the one kneeling.

  “This isn’t from me, you know.” The strong Hungarian accent was easy to place.

  “Bullshit you monster,” the man spat. “Just do it. Don’t lie to me.”

  Jaska didn’t hear what was said next. He stared on in frozen horror as the Hungarian man, if that indeed was what he was, sliced open the other man’s throat. The man gasped and held his throat as he bled out. The Hungarian man brought his foot up and kicked the body into the river. Jaska watched as the body vanished. The man watched for a moment before wiping the knife on a cloth he took from his pocket. Jaska brought his shaking hands to his mouth to cover the gasps as a shadow fell across the Hungarian. The shadow seemed to move of its own accord, it didn’t look like the shadow of an animal or a tree. He shook his head and turned to scrabble up the hill. He didn’t care where he was going as long as he was away from here.

  After he managed to pull himself out of the ravine, he debated whether or not to tell his grandparents. It was a stupid thought and he knew it. Jaska wasn’t dumb enough not to report a crime, but this was different. This man gave off a feeling of extreme violence. If he said something he knew he would be the one in danger. Not only that, but his family would be in danger. He stopped just at the edge of the clearing and took a deep breath, calming the beating of his heart before he stepped back to the picnic.

  “Where did you go?” Margo asked. She was eating one of the small cakes.

  “Just looking around.”

  “You have leaves in your hair.”

  “I tripped.”

  “Nice,” she giggled.

  Ty raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down and took a second sandwich. It was easy to see that he knew something was up. He didn’t say anything about it and for the rest of the time they hiked through more of the forest. It was six by the time they arrived back at the cottage. Byron and Mina flopped down on the sofa, falling asleep with Gus between them. Margo turned on the television.

  “Order in I guess?” Ty said with a smile.

  Margo looked back at him, “There’s a menu in the kitchen. Two places: a pizza place or some kind of Chinese food I think.”

  “Pizza it is.”

  Byron had already given him money for them to order dinner. Margo took the lead on the phone since she was the only one of them who could. Jaska thanked his sister before heading to his room, trying to get his thoughts in order. Someone had murdered another person right in front of him and he hadn’t said anything. He was worse than the Hungarian man who had killed that person. He was as good as his accomplice at this point. His heart pounded in his throat as he thought about what this would mean if someone ever found out he had been there.

  When the pizza came, he didn’t feel any better. He ate a few slices, but remained quiet. Ty only spoke about it after they had gone to bed.

  “Alright, what happened in the woods?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been acting weird ever since you went off by yourself. I’m good at seeing when people are upset, well some people. Well. People I like.” Ty put on his pajamas, “You can tell me. I won’t say anything.”

  “Nothing happened. I tripped like an idiot and I’m just tired. I’ll be alright in the morning.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Ty fell asleep quickly, both were extremely tired from hiking. Jaska closed his eyes for what felt like a blink and woke up to light bleeding into the room. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Ty was fast asleep, snoring lightly. Rather than wake him, Jaska got dressed silently and made for the door.

  He had to tell the police. He was already putting himself in danger waiting so long, they were going to be angry. The man might have already left the country and who knew where the body had washed up at this point. It might even have been eaten by animals and never be found. Jaska looked around as he walked. There were words he understood in German and it was easy to find where the police station was. As the building came into view he felt pressure on his shoulder.

  The Hungarian killer stood beside him, looking just as intimidating as he had the other day. He was dressed in a black suit, three of the shirt buttons undone because he wasn’t wearing a tie. “You know, I had to stand here all day yesterday and then get up before this place opened. You’ve caused me some discomfort.”

  Jaska stared at him, his body beginning to shake. This man was going to kill him to hide what he had done. He shouldn’t have gone to the police. “Don’t kill me,” he breathed. “Please. I-I won’t say anything.”

  The man squeezed his shoulder, “Come on, there is someone we need to talk to.”

  Jaska didn’t struggle as he was led away from the police station. He glanced up at his captor and tried to steady his breathing as they walked towards the clock shop.

  “Oh hello, you’re here early,” the pudgy man behind the counter said.

  “Yes, I need to speak to Kircher. Is he in?”

  “Yes, go on through,” he motioned to the door behind the counter.

  The door they went through led to a dimly lit backroom. There were no windows and the lamps were dim, covered in red shades to keep the light at a minimum. The floor was polished wood, but there were ornate rugs underneath the few tables. At a table in the middle of the room with his back to them, a man was stooped over a clock. The Hungarian man stopped walking and waited to be addressed.

  “Mr. Ragnar,” a surprisingly young voice greeted them. “I didn’t call you yet.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  The man called Mr. Kircher swiveled in his chair. Jaska wanted to run. The face that looked at him was pale, the eyes dark and old despite the young face. There was something predatory about the way he looked at the two, like he wanted to stick a straw in them and start drinking their bodily fluids. The man stood and brushed his clothing off. Jaska was surprised at the look of the man. If he wasn’t looking directly at his face, he looked normal. His jeans had holes in them, a chain sticking out of his pocket to hold his wallet in place. A tight black t-shirt showed off his muscles, the leather bracelets covering his wrist had words in Latin inscribed on them.

  “You brought a friend,” he said with a smile. He moved his feathery blond hair out of his eyes.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh.” The man stepped forward and reached out, “Aren’t you cute, little boy.”

  Jaska flinched back as his cheek was stroked; Mr. Kircher looked hungry.

  “You know, when you bring me playmates I’m inclined to stop charging.” Mr. Kircher turned around and held up a black pocket watch, “Nearly done. Is that what you wanted?”

  “Not entirely.”

  Jaska heard the door lock. His body stiffened and his heartbeat pounded in his ears “What are you going to do to me?”

  “You saw me in the woods. You saw me kill that man.”

  Mr. Kircher turned back and leaned against the table, “So not a playmate?”

  “I’m not here to field your habits.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Fashion one of your bindings. I don’t have any of my supplies here.”

  Mr. Kircher raised an eyebrow, “Why am I doing this? It isn’t like you only have a certain amount of time for those.”

  “He saw me kill someone, maybe saw Mads.”

  “He’s not great at hiding, is he? I’m surprised he’s hidden for as long as he has. Idiot.” Mr. Kircher vanished through a beaded entryway.

  “Hang on!” Jaska backed up, but Mr. Ragnar stood in the way. He gripped his shoulder so hard he stopped. “What’s going on?”

  “You could have walked away when you saw me standing in the woods, you didn’t. You shouldn’t have watched and now we both have to deal with the consequences.”

  “What-what’s a binding?”

  Mr. Ragnar looked down at him, “In order to insure you do keep your mouth shut something has to happen. I am truly sorry for this. Mostly because I’ll have to dea
l with you until you make a fatal mistake.”

  “Deal with me? What-what do you mean, fatal mistake?”

  “I will explain later.”

  Jaska was shaking so hard he thought his knees would buckle. Mr. Ragnar forced him into a chair and kept him there with a steady hand. “I know that I saw you and . . . whatever else it was you said I saw, but I won’t say anything! Why would I? What do I have to gain from it?” He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, but it didn’t work in the slightest. He was still shaking, his voice getting higher as he spoke. “I don’t even live here! I’m American.”