by Rani Clark
“I know that it’s dangerous. Not super dangerous, but he will be talking to and touching the dead. Don’t worry about it.”
Ty heard Mr. Kircher pouring water into something. The man was most likely making tea or coffee since it was so early there. “I have to worry. He’s my friend.”
“Trust me, he will be fine. Mr. Ragnar isn’t that bad compared to a lot of people he could have run into. What are you wearing?”
The question threw him off and he answered, not sure why Mr. Kircher was asking. “Just my school uniform.”
“What does it look like?”
“Uh, it’s blue pants, a white dress shirt, and a blue blazer. I go to a private school.”
“Even better. Lie down on the bed.”
“Mr. Kircher, I told you I don’t want to do that. Why do you want me to?”
“I don’t know. Just wanting to help you relax. You sound stressed, but we don’t have to do anything if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“I would prefer we didn’t do that kind of thing, thanks. I’m seventeen, I didn’t think I was your type.”
“You’re not.”
Ty shifted uncomfortably, “I’ll leave you to it. Have a good day, Mr. Kircher.”
“Have a good night, Ty. And call me Elias.”
Ty hung up without a goodbye. If Lilly Ann found out about what he was doing she would be disappointed in him. He wanted to keep talking to Elias. The man made him feel better if not in a strange way. He set the phone down and undressed, getting into his pajamas before falling into bed. He closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn’t dream as he fell into a troubled sleep.
14
Jaska woke up to his body feeling slightly better than it had the day before. The letters were by his side, he hadn’t moved them before falling asleep. With a yawn, he stood and limped to the bathroom, knowing he needed a shower. The wounds in his body were partially healed. They stung when he let hot water run over them, but he needed to clean them. When he dried himself off he realized he didn’t know how to wrap them or where the gauze was to rewrap them. He slipped into a pair of sweatpants and grabbed his letters. He wasn’t paying attention to the time until he got downstairs. It was three in the morning.
As if sensing his distress, Mr. Ragnar appeared from his office. He yawned and was heading towards the stairs when he saw his young apprentice. “Jaska, what are you doing up?”
“I woke up and I took a shower. I need to rewrap these, but I’m not sure how to.”
“Go sit in the living room.”
Jaska nodded and did as he was told. He sat on the couch, looking down at the wounds that seemed to look worse now that they were clean. Mr. Ragnar came back a moment later with a first aid kit and sat on the coffee table in front of him.
Mr. Ragnar opened the box and took out a smaller container filled with cleaning wipes. He smiled gently, “You do as you’re told and I can’t help but like that. Leif rarely did.”
“I’m stuck here anyway so I may as well not make things difficult,” was his answer. “I have my letters. Will you send them?”
“Yes, of course. It will take a week or so to get them there. I know that it seems long, but I have to be careful.”
“I understand, sir.”
Mr. Ragnar nodded and finished wrapping the wounds, “You can stop with the sir thing. If you don’t want to that’s fine, but I would feel better if you called me by my first name.”
Jaska nodded. “I put the letters on the table.”
“Good. Who did you write to?”
“Margo and my mom and Ty. Will they be able to write me back?”
Mr. Ragnar stood, “I am sorry, but they can’t. I know you want to hear from them and I’ll let you visit in a few months, but it would be very irresponsible and dangerous to let them write right now. I’m sorry, Jaska.”
He sniffled, “That’s ok. At least I can tell them what I’ve been up to. That will make them happy.”
“I hope so. My goal isn’t to make you miserable or to make your family miserable. Ty must be lonely without you.”
“He has a lot of friends, sir. He won’t miss me much, I don’t think.”
Mr. Ragnar turned his head, “Ty cares about you a lot. He trusted you with a secret that is his life. His other friends don’t mean nearly as much as you.”
“Look, I know everyone thinks that, and I know we’re friends, but I also know that he doesn’t care as much about me as his other friends. I’m his tutor.”
“I find that hard to believe considering what happened and you wrote a letter to him. A thicker letter than you wrote to Margo and your mother.”
Jaska shook his head, “I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight.”
He nodded and retired to his room, feeling odd. He really didn’t think Ty liked him that much, not like any of his other friends. When he had said as much to his mother, she had said it was mean not to think of Ty like a friend when the young man so obviously liked him. Jaska liked Ty, but he preferred not to set himself up to get hurt if Ty didn’t feel about him the way he assumed he did.
Jaska stared at the ceiling and tried to go to sleep but all he thought about was the family he had left behind. Finally, he gave up and stood back up from the bed. He got dressed and headed out, aiming to walk around his new home and site-see by himself.
It was still dark, but there were people out on the street. With pocket money he had gotten from Mr. Ragnar, he purchased a cup of coffee and a sausage bun from a small cart and kept walking. The stars were brighter here and the air was cleaner. He could learn to like living here. He supposed he had to. As he walked he saw Emma coming out of a large building. She was in a loose red dress and carrying a basket. Before he could turn to avoid her, she saw him and waved. He waved back and looked both ways before crossing the street.
“Hello. Jaska, right?”
He nodded, “Hello, Emma. What are you doing up this early?”
“Picking some things up for the bar. You look tired.”
“I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk.” He walked beside her as they headed towards the market. “How long have you known Mr. Ragnar?”
“Ever since I can remember. Leif is with him most of the time when I see him.”
“You don’t like Leif. Or at least that’s what Mr. Ragnar told me.”
“It isn’t that I don’t like him. I think I just . . .” she paused, “no, I don’t like him.”
“Do you mind if I ask why?”
Emma glanced at him and shrugged, “He’s too talkative. He doesn’t shut his mouth. Ever. I like quiet guys.”
“He does have an impressive gift for talking.”
“Yes, he does. So, tell me about yourself. All I know is your name and who you live with.”
“Well, I don’t really want to be here. Necromancy wasn’t my thing, but it is now.”
“Where did you live before?”
“I’m from America, originally. I miss my family, but I’ll get to visit them in a few months.”
“I don’t think I could deal with death like Mr. Ragnar does. He isn’t scared of it or anything. He accepts it, like it’s a normal thing for him. Mr. Ragnar is an interesting man.”
“I guess.”
Jaska fell into silence as they walked. He hoped he remembered where the house was by the time they were finished. Emma said goodbye to him when they walked back towards the house. She was nice enough, but he didn’t want to hang around her again. Girls had always made him feel odd. Other than Margo, he didn’t talk to them, even at school. He unlocked the door with his key and stepped inside to the smell of bacon and eggs. He could hear Leif laughing, Mr. Ragnar was talking to him though Jaska couldn’t hear the words. He stepped quietly to the wall and hid behind it to listen to them talking.
“Truthfully, what do you think of Jaska?” Mr. Ragnar was asking.
“He’s sweet. A little too sweet for this, I think. Quiet too.”
�
�Yes, he is. He does as he’s told. Unlike someone I know.”
“Obedience was never my thing,” he chuckled. “Vladimir, why did you shoot him? You didn’t shoot me.”
“It was my first time with you and I’m an idiot. Is that a satisfying answer?”
“Not really. You slit my throat.”
“I thought it would easier than gunshot wounds. Those are hard to take care of, but the slit throat was harder.”
“Yeah, it was.”
Jaska rolled his eyes, this was a boring conversation. He was about to walk in until Mr. Ragnar said something else.
“Do you think Jaska will ever like me after this?”
“Dunno. I couldn’t say, honestly. You took him away from his family and his friend. It would be hard if I was in his position. When I got here, my parents were dead and you were the only one I had. Are the only one I have. If it’s any sort of conciliation, I like you.”
“I know you like me.”
Jaska went in then, he wasn’t interested in hearing Mr. Ragnar lament about what he had done. “Good morning,” he said solemnly.
“Good morning. Where did you run off to?”
“Just getting the feel for this place. I got some coffee.” He sat at the table, “I feel better.”
“Glad to hear it. You’re healing quickly.” Mr. Ragnar tapped his fingers on the table, “Has your Spirit Guide appeared yet?”
“No. Should it have?”
“Yes. Unless it’s taking its time. Who knows what it actually is. If it’s human looking or more animal. It’s quite startling when they appear, but don’t be afraid. Your Spirit Guide won’t hurt you.”
"Doesn't Mads know who it is? He talked like he did."
"Yes, but he isn't supposed to share that information with me until after you meet your Spirit Guide. It's a personal thing."
“Should I start my training again?” he asked.
“You’re still healing and necromancy takes a lot out of you so I don’t think it’s a good idea quite yet.”
“Alright.” He ate half of a piece of toast before excusing himself. He hadn’t unpacked even after all this time and decided it was time to. Acceptance was a hard thing to admit to and he wanted to scream and cry at the same time as he opened his suitcase and began to put his clothes in the dresser. He needed more clothes. He had only packed for a week vacation in Germany.
He wondered what his father would say if his mother ever told him about this. If she was smart she would lie about it and that was what he assumed she was doing. Evan Powers wasn’t a reasonable man. That was one of the many things he hated about his father.
As he stepped over to the dresser, glancing in the mirror that hung on the wall, he thought he saw someone standing there; a dark shadow. But when he turned, his heart racing into his throat, there was no one behind him. No shadows, no creatures. Nothing. Jaska shook his head and went back to unpacking. Since he lived here he wondered if he would be allowed to get things to change the room into something more personal than it was. Leif’s room must have been personal. He had never been inside the young man's room so he wasn’t sure, but it must have been.
What would he even put here? He supposed he could have different colored bedsheets. That was all he could think of right now. If Mr. Ragnar said no it wouldn’t really matter if he thought of anything else. A shadow passed in front of the window. As soon as Jaska turned the shadow was gone.
“Stupid brain,” he muttered as he took the suitcase off the bed. He was exhausted from what little work he had done today and felt like a nap.
As he closed his eyes he felt cold seep into his bones. He shivered and pulled the quilt around himself. He closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep. All he dreamed of were monsters and nightmares, stalking him and ripping his throat open. A clap of thunder startled him into waking. The darkness was complete in his room. He felt a presence wrap itself around his body as he looked into the shadows. The presence was cold but it felt safe. For once since coming here he felt safe. Tears soaked his cheeks from the dreams. He wiped his eyes and laid back down. Whatever the presence was it made him happy.
“Thank you,” he said to the darkness.
The rest of the night was uneventful. When he woke up he went to breakfast to hear Mr. Ragnar had gone. “Where did he go?” he asked as he ate a few bites of whatever the egg thing was that had been placed in front of him.
“He said he had a few errands to run. He won’t be back for a couple of days,” Leif replied, sitting down with his own plate.
“Oh. Really?”
“Not a fan of the boss man? You know, he’s nice.” Leif leaned back, “And not so bad. He kills people, but everyone has their dark side. His is motivated by money.”
“It will take me a bit not to hate him.”
“He used to read me bedtime stories, you know. I had a lot of nightmares when I first came here and I couldn’t sleep. I would just cry all night over the death of my parents. He read me stories to try to make me feel better and after a few months I got over it. He even slept in my bed for a few nights when I needed someone there.”
Jaska changed the subject, “Want to play chess or something after breakfast?”
“I’ve got a few chores to do then I’ll play.”
“Need any help?”
Leif nodded, “Yeah. Pick up the living room and study while I take care of the kitchen. Don’t over exert yourself though. I know you’re still healing.”
Jaska nodded and stood, not bothering to finish his breakfast. There wasn’t much to clean up in the living room. He picked up a few books that he knew were Leif’s and put them back in their proper place. After cleaning up the messier study he found himself becoming tired. He sat on the couch and leaned back. He felt better than the previous day and his injuries were healing, but he was still tired. He had washed his chest and put bandages on the wounds rather than gauze. He felt confident it would be alright since it was healing.
A knock on the door made him jump. No one had knocked on the door the entire time he had been here and he found it odd. Out of habit, Jaska stood to get it. Standing at the door was a man. He was dressed in the Victorian clothing Jaska was becoming used to seeing: black pants, a vest, and a shirt. The man was slightly more ruffled than others, he looked to have been running or walking briskly at the very least. A large box was on the stoop beside his feet.
“Can I help you?” Jaska asked.
The man stared at him, one of his eyes was covered with a black eye patch. “Uh . . . maybe. Who are you?”
“Jaska.” He paused, not sure what to say to the man. “Who are you?”
“Zachary.” The man put his hands in his pockets, “Is Leif here?”
“Yes. Leif!”
The young man came walking in from the kitchen, “Who was at the-? Oh. Hello, Zachary. Mr. Ragnar isn’t here.”
“That’s fine. I have something for him.” He reached down and picked up the box with a grunt. It was obviously heavy. “Tell him sorry.”
“What?”
“When is he due back?”
“A few days. What’s in the box?”
Zachary thrust the box into Jaska’s hands, “Something that I was instructed to bring him. It’s from You-Know-Who.”
“Oh god. What is it now?”
“Tell him to call me if he can’t handle it.”
Leif shut the door as the man called Zachary jogged away. “What is going on?” Jaska asked, setting the heavy box down. “It’s kinda moving, whatever’s in here.”
“Open it.”
The box rustled, moving slightly as Jaska pulled open the flaps. After being killed he found he wasn’t in the mood to be startled. When the lid was open, something crawled out that startled him into leaping back. The thing was all black with a furry and feathery coat. Plate sized eyes looked up at him, glowing green for a moment as it stared before reverting to pale blue. It had large ears that were moving as it listened to whatever noises its ears could pick up.
The things wings dragged on the ground as it stumbled along on clawed feet. On the wings were three claws attached to what looked like a kind of hand.
“What in the hell . . ?” Leif trailed off as the things ears flicked forward.
Atop unsure legs, it walked towards Jaska, the thick claws on its feet clicked on the ground. Jaska froze as it looked up at him, clicking its claws and moving its head to the side. It made a soft cooing noise.
