by Rani Clark
“Leave your dishes, I’ll clean up later.”
Mr. Ragnar watched Leif go before speaking, “I’m very worried about him. That is the least I’ve heard him talk excluding when he first came here.”
Jaska looked into his empty mug, “If it’s alright, sir, I’m going to take a shower.”
“Stay here for a moment.” Mr. Ragnar leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table, “What has Monarch been doing?”
“He’s been looking into libraries and stuff. Mads is helping him and a few other Spirit Guides. Apparently, I’m the talk of the town.” He looked down at the table, “Sir, what happens if I do nothing?”
Mr. Ragnar shook his head, “Not great things. That mark will make your power dangerous and unpredictable. It will make you dangerous and unpredictable. You might hurt someone, but more likely you’ll hurt yourself and I don’t want that.”
“Stop trying to be the good guy. I’m tired of it.” He stood, “I’m getting in the shower.”
His shower was only a place for him to find solitude. Jaska stood in the warm spray until he grew bored. Mr. Ragnar was dressed and waiting for him in the basement. He zipped up his jacket as he slipped on his gloves. “Ready to go.”
“Still feeling cold?”
“All of the time,” he remarked as he helped Mr. Ragnar set up the circle.
“Jaska-”
He had to stop to take a few deep breaths, his chest hurt. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He sat down in the circle, “Let’s go.”
“No, I think we need to go to the physician first. You’re pale and fairly weak. I don’t want you to get hurt so come on.”
Jaska hated going to the doctor, but he wasn’t going to contradict Mr. Ragnar after everything he had said to the man. He sighed and headed up the steps behind his master. The necromancer asked Leif to watch Lantern before they left. Jaska shivered in the cold and followed Mr. Ragnar down the street. He kept his head down, finding more interest in the sidewalk than the people around him. Mr. Ragnar stopped when he came to a gray building. He stepped into the lobby of a small doctor’s office. Jaska shivered and wiped his nose.
“Vladimir Ragnar here to see Dr. Bader. My student is ill.”
She nodded, “I’ll talk to him. Give me a moment.”
Mr. Ragnar tapped his fingers on the desk and glanced at Jaska, “I don’t like doctors or their offices. I hate the smell. It freaks me out.”
“Me too.”
The receptionist stepped back out, “You can go in.”
Jaska would have to take off his clothes, he was sure. They both stepped into a room with the usual doctor’s things. He didn’t like the look of the table or the instruments. A moment later a short, stalky man with glasses and a pot belly stepped into the room.
“Hello, Vladimir. I haven’t seen you since poor Leif broke his leg.”
Mr. Ragnar chuckled, “I nearly forgot about that. God knows I heard about it for months after.”
Dr. Bader laughed, “Now, what is it you’ve come to me about?”
“This is my new apprentice Jaska Byrne. He’s been ill since getting here. I assumed it was just his body getting used to things, but I don’t think that’s it. He’s cold all of the time, he sleeps too much, eats too little. I also thought it was his depression, but I don’t think that’s it either.”
Dr. Bader nodded, “Let me take some blood and run a few tests. Disrobe down to your underwear while I get a few things.”
Jaska spoke up after the doctor left, “I’m cold. I don’t want to-”
“Don’t make this difficult.”
Jaska sighed deeply before beginning to undress. Mr. Ragnar had taken care of him after being shot so he had most likely seen him shirtless, but he wasn’t comfortable as he got down to his underwear and sat on the table. Mr. Ragnar took a seat near the wall as the doctor came back, glancing at the mark on his student’s chest.
“So, you’re cold all of the time?”
“Yes. I’m cold now. You made me take off my coat.”
Dr. Bader chuckled, “Fair enough. I’m going to take some blood.”
Jaska closed his eyes as Dr. Bader made to take a blood sample. He hated needles and wanted even less to give this man his blood. “Ow,” he groaned as he felt the sharp sting and the pressure that came with drawing blood.
“Sorry.” He set the vial of blood down before he went about examining Jaska’s body. “What are these marks?”
“He shot me,” Jaska grumbled as he was touched.
“Went the other way, huh? Leif’s wounds were fairly gruesome if I remember it correctly.”
Mr. Ragnar nodded, “The gun was easier. He healed faster and I didn’t have to bring him here.”
“Hm.” He felt his abdomen, “Any pain there?”
“No.”
“Alright.” He brought out a thermometer, “Put this in your mouth, I want to take your temperature.”
Jaska did as he was told. He tried to tune out what the two were talking about, he didn’t care. He was already irritated that he had to be shirtless.
The doctor took the long, thin thermometer from his mouth and looked at it. “Oh my god,” he gasped.
“What?” Jaska asked.
“Mr. Ragnar, I need to speak to you privately.”
His master looked at Jaska with worry in his eyes, “Alright. Jaska, get dressed.”
Jaska nodded and did as he was told as the two adults left. He was grateful he got to put his coat back on. As he stood in the cold of the sterile room he heard the door open again. Mr. Ragnar looked upset. “Can we go?”
“No. Jaska do you know what temperature the body is at normally?”
“Yes. Ninety-eight point six.”
“Good. Necromancers can sustain their bodies at lower temperatures. Mine is at eighty most days, seventy if I’ve been fighting or using a lot of my magic. Yours is thirty-six.”
Jaska stared at him, “That-that can’t be right. How am I alive?”
Mr. Ragnar shook his head, “I don’t know. I truly don’t. I have no idea how in the hell you’re walking about now. This might have to do with that mark, but I’m not sure. You aren’t going into the land of the dead until I fix this.”
Jaska looked at his hands, “What do I do?”
“There isn’t anything you can do.” Mr. Ragnar motioned to the door, “We’re going. Thank you, Dr. Bader.”
“No problem. I’ll give you a call with the blood results.”
Jaska followed him out of the office, “Is that why I’m sick?”
“Yes.” Mr. Ragnar was speed walking. Jaska jogged to keep up with him.
“Hang on, I can’t walk that fast,” he panted.
His master slowed down, “This is my fault.”
“Well, yes, everything that’s happened to me has been your fault, but I don’t see why you’re so damn worried now.”
Mr. Ragnar didn’t say anything else until they reached the house. He slammed the door behind him, “Whatever you think, whatever has happened, I still want to protect you. I don’t want you to die! Do you think that I like seeing you in pain?”
“I don’t-”
“Stop it! I’ll go into the land of the dead and see what’s going on with that mark. Keep warm and stop thinking I’m such a fucking monster.”
Leif stared; he was standing in the doorway between the entryway and the kitchen with a donut in his mouth and a mug of coffee in his hand. He took the donut from his mouth, “What was that?” he asked as he watched Mr. Ragnar march away. “It takes a lot to get him to go off the handle like that.”
“According to the doctor my body temperature is thirty-six.”
“Thirty-six? That can’t be right.”
“It is. Is there anymore coffee left?”
“Yeah. Sit on the couch, I’ll get it for you.”
He was too tired to argue. He flopped down on the couch and curled up underneath a blanket. Lantern was coloring by the fire. “I didn’t mean to make hi
m mad.”
“He’s been on a thin rail lately.” Leif handed him the steaming cup, “Drink up.”
“Are you feeling ok?”
“Yes.”
“No, you aren’t. You aren’t talking my ear off, for one. It’s weird. What’s going on?”
Leif sighed heavily, leaning back and running his hand over his face, “When we were in Germany I felt . . . odd. I think Vladimir is hiding something from me.”
“I don’t think he would hide something from you. It’s just because of your parents, I think.”
“You think so?”
“Yes,” he lied. Even if he hated Mr. Ragnar and wanted to hurt him, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Leif with a memory the young man had already forgotten. “Don’t think about it. It’s just you remembering a tragic event from your childhood.”
“I guess. You feeling any better?”
“Not even a little. Something is really wrong. This is all Mr. Ragnar’s fault. If he hadn’t-”
“He did it to protect you. Would you rather have someone rip your throat out?”
“Yes. If I didn’t have to talk to him any longer.” Jaska flinched, “I’m sorry. Sort of.”
“Stop talking about him like he’s a monster.” He shook his head, “He saved me and all you want to do is bring him down. Just stop.”
He wanted to argue. It was difficult for Jaska to compare what he was going through with what Leif had gone through. Leif no longer had a family. Mr. Ragnar was like a father to him, he hadn’t been ripped away from everything and everyone he loved.
“I’m sorry to snap. It’s just . . . ever since you got here all you do is tell me how much you hate him and how terrible he is. He’s trying to help you, he just wants you to be safe, and-”
“He did this for himself. I don’t care about that monster and I won’t ever care about him. I won’t talk about him like that anymore though.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
He didn’t remember falling asleep. He woke up with a blanket over him, but the fire was out. The room was cold and he found himself shivering. Shuddering, he stood and attempted to make it to his room, but he found that he was too weak and cold so he settled back onto the couch and tried to make himself as warm as possible. Nothing was working. He shivered miserably and thought about his predicament. He was going to die here. There was no way he could survive like this.
Much to his surprise he heard footsteps. Like a child he pretended to be asleep, Mr. Ragnar would think he had passed out. He heard the man walk in, he felt him start the fire before walking back to the door. Jaska heard him open it and another set of footsteps made him wonder who was visiting. He heard an unfamiliar voice, he didn’t like the sound. It was too collected, too cold, and calm. He hated whoever it was already.
“You are a man of many mysteries,” the unknown man said. “Why did you call?”
“I’m having a problem.”
“Yes, I know that bit. Where is he?”
“Pretending to be asleep on the couch.”
Jaska sighed and sat up still wrapped in the blanket and waited for the two to come in. The man Mr. Ragnar led in was terrifying to look at but not because of his stature. He was only slightly taller than Mr. Ragnar and had blond hair. His features were sharp and his smile was cruel. The thing that frightened him the most were the man’s eyes. There was nothing in them. In Mr. Ragnar’s, he saw concern and irritation, but in this man’s eyes was nothing. It was void and uncaring. Even if he didn’t know Jaska he should have had some kind of emotion visible there.
“Jaska, this is a . . . person I know. Shear Kameleon. Shear, this is my apprentice Jaska Byrne.”
“A person he knows,” the man said with a laugh. There was no humor in it. “I’m here to help if I can.”
Jaska cleared his throat, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Shear is Freddie’s older brother.”
“You are?” He found that hard to believe. Freddie was warm and friendly, he had liked her immediately.
“I am. My sister spoke so highly of you. Nearly as highly as she speaks of the man claiming her heart.” He glanced at Mr. Ragnar, “So, you’re tired all of the time?”
“Yes and I’m cold. All of the time.”
Shear Kameleon took off his jacket and set it on the chair. He stood in front of Jaska before reaching out and placing his hand on the side of his neck. Jaska flinched back without meaning to. The man’s touch was repulsive. He would have rather been touched by Elias Kircher.
“Jaska,” Mr. Ragnar snapped.
“Sorry, sir.”
Shear checked his pulse and looked closely at his eyes and skin. “Hm.” He pulled down his shirt slightly to see the mark.
Jaska shuddered at the movement, wanting to shrink back and run. “Are you finished?”
“Sort of.” Shear stood up to his full height, “That mark has only appeared on three other necromancers and we all know how they ended up. What do you want me to do about this?”
Mr. Ragnar frowned, “You know what I want you to do about this.”
Jaska looked between them, “What?”
“Mr. Kameleon has a very particular set of necromancy skills. I’m a powerful man, I can do a lot, but I can’t do what needs to be done.”
“What needs to be done?”
Shear chuckled, “Your teacher wishes for me, for us, to head into the Underground. That’s where this book most likely is and it requires a lot. Also, I don’t really want to.”
Mr. Ragnar shook his head, “He doesn’t need to know this. You saw him, you know what he looks like, now make your decision.”
“I vote just kill him. It will be easier and you won’t have to give me anything. His mark will vanish into thin air.”
“I’m not going to kill him.” Mr. Ragnar tapped his hand on his thigh, “Would he have to go?”
“Yes, of course. This is about him and we need him anyway. You are free to accompany me. With me by your side you are allowed there.” He shrugged, "Pay me the usual, I suppose, and you've got a deal. I'm running low anyway."
Mr. Ragnar nodded, “Very well. My payment will have to be after."
“That’s fine.” Shear picked up his coat, “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. It was nice to meet you Jaska, see you later.”
Jaska waited until his master had shown the man to the door. He moved off the couch and closer to the fire, “I don’t like him and I don’t want to do whatever it is you-”
“I’m too tired for this. We’re going with him, the end,” Mr. Ragnar snapped.
Jaska flinched, “What exactly is the Underground, sir?"
Mr. Ragnar sat down on the couch and stretched his legs, “It is an awful labyrinth filled with monsters. That’s where we’ll find what we need.”
“I don’t want-”
“I don’t care what you want anymore.” He ran his hand over his face and sighed deeply.
The two were silent as the fire crackled. Jaska sniffled and looked into the flames, knowing that he had hit a nerve. Mr. Ragnar was breathing in an irritated manner. “What kind of monsters?”
“The kind with teeth and claws.” Mr. Ragnar looked at him, “I’m sorry to snap.”
He shrugged, but didn’t say anything about it. “What are you giving him for his help?”
“Nothing you need to know about.” Mr. Ragnar leaned forward, putting his forearms on his knees, “This is something I don’t wish to tell Leif, but I will. He isn’t going to like it and he’s going to beg you not to let me do this. Just ignore him.”
“Why won’t he want-?”
“Just do it!” Mr. Ragnar stood, knocking the pillow on the ground, “Just do what I say for once. No questions, no griping, just do it!” He roared. “I’m tired, I’m frustrated, and I don’t want to do this.”
Jaska stared at him. Mr. Ragnar didn’t yell at him and it was frightening that he was doing it now. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I was only asking. I won’t ask again, I’m sorry.”
Jaska nodded and watched him leave. He shivered as he sat by the fire, thinking over what was going on. Something had Mr. Ragnar riled up and he didn’t know what it could be. As he thought about it he fell asleep again and was only woken up by Leif shaking him.
