The cemetery was quiet, save for the chirping of crickets and buzzing mosquitoes all around. The sky was still dark, the only trace of light came from the moon and stars above. After a few minutes of waiting, I stepped into the open, sure the coast was clear. I crawled up the side of the hole towards the entrance to the tomb, just to make sure, but if anyone was here, they were either fast asleep or busy doing something else. Either way, it allowed me to enter the tomb without anyone the wiser.
Just like the tomb back at Pine Ridge, this one opened to a stone staircase that sloped to the ground. Still using my phone for light, I made the trip down the staircase by carefully sliding on my butt while wedged against the crease of the wall between the stairs and the wall. At the bottom, the stairs ended at a cast iron gate. It wasn't secured, however, so I pushed it to the side, holding it and allowing it to come to a stop gently against the marble surface.
Using my phone light, I illuminated the main chamber of the tomb. Along the left wall, resting in the crease between the floor and wall, was a single casket. Like the tomb in Pine Ridge, this one was open though it was not heavily damaged like the others. I crept closer, keeping my light on the casket as I wanted to get a better look inside. When I got close, I steeled my nerves and pulled open the lid.
When I shined my light inside, I screamed like a girl and jumped back, allowing the lid to slam close. I sat on the floor in a rage of nervous laughter while I tried to shake it off. The mood passed after a few minutes, so I stood back up to try again. This time, I opened the lid and allowed it to rest against the side wall open before taking a closer look inside.
The remains of some long dead person, assuming a man based upon the suit he wore, were still resting inside. Poking out of each of the sleeves resting upon the corpse's chest were two skeletal arms, though the hands were scattered about the inside of the casket, surely as a result of the vandalism. The skull was still there, though set at an awkward angle, looking up at me as if to ask 'what have you done?' It was hard to tell what happened to the rest of the bones, but I assumed most of them were out of place, judging from the awkward lumps in the clothing.
Wanting to get a better view, I shined my light inside and poked my head in. Doing my best to search without moving one single bone or piece of clothing, I scanned the casket for anything of importance. I wasn't looking for a ring, necklace, or even dog tags that were routinely buried with the dead. Instead, I was looking for something odd, almost out of place, but my search came up empty. When I was done, I carefully closed the lid and let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. As I was about to back away and search the rest of the tomb, my light caught a glimmer of metal on the apex of the wood.
A nameplate.
I shined my light on the metal plate and leaned in to see the name. Hugo Renou.
Impossible. Hugo Renou had stayed in the Middle East until the day he died. Isn't that what Abby told me? If he did, what would bring him here, to New Orleans? Better yet, what would compel him, or his family, to have the tomb here, so close to his rival? As much as it didn't surprise me, it seemed like Abby didn't tell me the truth. It was that, or she didn't have the full details of everything that had truly happened to Hugo. Normally, I'd give the benefit of the doubt to her, but after she had lied to me about her flight out of town, I felt inclined to call her out on it. If it wasn't so late now, I'd drive back to the French Quarter and beat down her door myself, cops be damned.
The only thing keeping me from doing it was knowing I hadn't heard from Rachel yet. While I didn't fully suspect her of being the necromancer, her timing and appearance did leave me with a few questions. Not to mention, she might actually have some information about the man who had been buried here.
Carefully, I closed the lid of the casket, not wanting to risk any more damage than I'd already caused. While I'd probably crossed every single line when it came to the dead, I always preferred to keep things as they were before I showed up, whenever I can. Of course, the rightful thing to do would be to rearrange the bones as they once were while returning the tomb to its original state, but that was not going to happen. As it stood, I was already risking a trespassing charge just by being here. I doubted the owner would be happy to see me again, even if I was only helping to set things straight.
I took a step back and took one last look around, but other than the offset casket, nothing seemed amiss. I was about to make my way back upstairs, but I decided against my better judgment to move the casket, just in case there was something underneath. Even though the person inside was long dead, it was still heavy enough that I considered enhancing my strength to push it out of the way. Unfortunately, when I pushed it just a little too far to the right, the heavy wooden casket slid against the wall before coming to a stop in the corner of the tomb.
I held my breath for a long minute, waiting to feel the wrath of god, or at least the dead, for disturbing the corpse once again, but when nothing happened, I finally allowed myself to exhale.
I shined my light on the ground where the casket had just been and noticed a softball sized hole in the otherwise flawless marble. The rational part of my brain wanted me to believe it was just part of the damage to the tomb, but the crazier side had another theory. The rest of the tomb, other than the displaced casket and possibly missing items, was still pristine. I didn't have the pleasure of seeing it before it gained its only permanent resident to know for sure, but I imagined the place had always been well kept, even decade after Hugo's death.
I knelt down next to the hole and leaned in to get a better look. Inside, there wasn't much to look at. Mainly dirt with a few exposed earthworms for good measure. Yet, poking out from the surface of the dirt something caught my eye.
Reaching my hand in, the dirt was soft and moved easily, as if the owner had already placed some of the topsoil in the hole. My fingers contracted the moment they felt something that wasn't quite dirt, almost like a thick strand of rope under the soil. I pulled it out, noticing it was a necklace. The metal strand was made with silver, or perhaps another silvery metal like iron or platinum. There was a single charm in the center that almost looked to be a brass imprint of a woman on top of a blue stone. There was another sliver of brass that almost looked to be embedded inside the stone though I couldn't make out what it was supposed to be. Unlike modern necklaces, it was a complete strand from end to end, without a single clasp to be found. The chain looked large enough to fit around my neck though I wasn't about to risk it until I had a chance to look into it more. The odds were such that it was probably just a mundane necklace though it was also possible it was much more.
I slid the necklace into my pants pocket and gave the room one final look. When I was finally sure there weren't any more treasures to find, I made the trip back up the stairs and out into the cool night air. Thin wispy clouds started to fill the sky above my head. Likely the beginnings of a fog that would last into the morning. The moon was still visible through the wisps though it clearly made it a whole lot darker.
I stepped out of the tomb and onto the soil the entrance rested on then made the turn to go back to the part of the gate I had entered from. Wanting to be ready to bend the gates back in place, I went to draw in a bit of essence, but found myself cut off.
Panic flushed through my body knowing the necromancer was close. I wasn't quite sure how large her range was on the aura, but it was at least every bit as big as the range on her minions.
Even severed from my ability to use magic, there was a bright spot. She didn't have any minions around. Of course, standing in the middle of a cemetery, it was only a matter of time before she was able to raise enough to cause some serious damage.
Across the graveyard, right in the middle of my escape path, I noticed a shadowy figure standing amongst a backdrop of headstones and mausoleums. In the darkness it was difficult to see exactly what she was wearing, but it almost looked she was wearing a hooded cloak over a dress of some sort. If the vision wasn't frightening enough on its own, in
her hand was a corn style broom, and it was glowing green.
- 25 -
Witches and wizards have a lot in common with each other. The main thing is that they both use magic in some form or another. They also can be either sex.
It's a common misconception that witches are always women while wizards are always men. While each type does tend to favor one sex or another, it is not even odd to see one of the other.
Admittedly, it is far more rare to see a male witch than a female wizard, though I suspect that might have something to do with the crowd I hang out with. Back in the council I know of at least fifty different female wizards, yet in my travels I have only met one male witch.
He was one of those outdoorsy type guys who was always more at home in the wild than being anywhere close to civilization. Witches natural affinity with everything nature just drew him in like a coyote to a pig farm. Last I heard he was still living somewhere along the Appalachian trails, somewhere in West Virginia.
Unlike what some movies would like you to think, it is darn near impossible to spot a witch in the middle of a crowd, unless the witch wants to be found, like the one standing in front of me. For the most part, they work hard to fit into normal society. After the witch hunts and trials all throughout history, they learned to keep their craft hidden from the eyes of normal people, lest they be burned on a pyre or sentenced to drown.
The fact that a woman was standing in front of me with a glowing green broom, smack dab in the middle of the cemetery, cops and security be damned, was a testament to her abilities. Just based on her aura, and her ability to control massive hordes of the undead, she was easily one of the most powerful witches I'd ever had the pleasure to run into. Nobody, and I mean nobody, flaunts their powers in public like that unless they want, make that crave, the attention.
Sure, over the years I'd used my powers in front of others on more than one occasion. But those were situations where my life, or the life of others, was at severe jeopardy. That or I was ticked off and taking down something, or someone, nasty. Either way, I try to keep what I do out of the public eye as much as possible.
I kept my distance from the witch, not because I was scared of her, but because I simply had no idea what she could do. The lack of undead in the area told me she had come here at least looking unprepared though I'm sure she knew full well that her death aura would be enough to cripple me. Add to that my aversion to firearms, and there wasn't much for her to worry about.
"So you are the one controlling the dead," I said, finally breaking the silence. "I was wondering when I'd run into you."
She took two steps forward and said, "you've run into me twice now. Would've been three, but Agent Ross is a pathetic driver."
"Wasn't particularly friendly either. If you find yourself at a bar and he's there, I'd try to avoid him."
"Like I'd converse with one of those things."
"Humans?" I asked. "Reality check. You are one of those things. Whatever fancy powers flows through our veins just sets us apart. In the end, we all bleed and we all die."
"Not all of us," she countered. "Some of us live countless lifetimes. I've seen far more years than I could begin to count. I don't fear death. I welcome it."
"Good," I said, wishing I'd grabbed my sword out of the car before making the drip. "I hate fighting."
She laughed a loud, haunting laugh that filled the cool night air and echoed off the surrounding trees. "My death will not happen this night, or any night soon."
"Why are you here?"
"The same reason you are here," she said. "I'm looking for something that's supposed to be here." She took a few more steps forward. "Have you found anything like this?"
My thought immediately drifted to the necklace in my pocket. It was the only thing I had that she could be talking about. While I had no idea what the necklace was, her desire for it told me it was something very important. Probably very powerful. "Can't say I have. I was just getting a look at the tomb," I said. "Admiring your handy work."
"What makes you think it was me?"
"Cemetery. Missing bodies. Hundreds of footprints in the disturbed soil." I shrugged my shoulders. "Call it a hunch."
"Very astute. I should've known someone would have figured it out."
"Kinda easy to figure out a necromancer was involved when you send your pets to kill me. Can't even say it was a challenge."
"Yet you still have no idea who I am," she said, confidence in her voice. "Or have you puzzled that out in the last few days?"
Even with her standing here in front of me, I didn't have a clue. With the wispy clouds diminishing the moon's ability to brighten the darkness, it was near impossible to see through her hood. "Can't say I have," I said though I had the nagging suspicion I was about to find out.
The woman stepped up closer and waved her broom towards the ground, creating a waist-high bonfire made out of the same sickly green flame as her broom. With one hand she removed her hood while she clinched her fist with the other, causing the fire to surge, illuminating the features on her face.
"Abby?" I asked.
She let a smile form on the edge of her lips. "Does that surprise you?"
It did. "Why would you destroy your great grandfather's tomb? Don't you have access to it already?"
"I have my reasons," she said. "Mainly needing to be able to deny personal involvement. I have to admit, the insurance settlement is going to come in handy as well."
While I didn't doubt she would have turned in the missing items to her insurance company, something still wasn't adding up. Why would she risk everything just to steal items she already owned? Not to mention, why would she be here, at the grave of Hugo Renou, looking for the necklace?
She took a few steps forward, into the glowing green fire and I took a few steps back, wanting to keep my distance. I was alone, unarmed, and couldn't even draw in any essence, let alone do any magic. For the first time in a while, I felt cornered, and foolish. Not for the first time, however, I found myself wishing I'd listened to Max and caught the first plane back home. If I had known I would be tracking down someone who could effectively reduce me to nothing more than a half-baked detective well out of his element, I would have hung up on the call and told Nicholas where to shove his money. But as I've learned countless time over the years, I'm never fond of doing things the easy way.
"What did you find inside the tomb, Raymond?"
"Casket, dead guy, not much else." It wasn't really a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. I had no way to know what she was really looking for though I suspected the necklace was high on the list. Minus the body, the tomb was otherwise empty, meaning it had been searched before. Probably even looted when she caused this mess to begin with.
"Call it my womanly instincts, but I believe you are lying to me."
"Believe what you want, there was nothing you would've wanted inside the tomb."
"Perhaps you are right. After all, I've already searched the place twice without finding what I was looking for." She relaxed the arm holding the broom, allowing it to fall almost limp to her side. I allowed the breath I didn't realize I was holding to escape my lungs. "Learning to harness the power of death has its advantages, just a handful you have witnessed yourself. There is one fatal flaw, however."
"What's that? A lack of common sense? You could've swept both tombs without the effort. I didn't get to see this one before tonight, but I can't believe it was all that secure. And Oliver's... you probably had the key to that. What would be so important that you would want to desecrate your great grandfather's tomb like that?"
"That last question is where you are mistaken. Oliver Leclair was only my great grandfather by adoption."
"But you are in charge of his estate."
"Yes, but not the contents inside the tomb. Uncle Frank was never fond of me. He passed down the key to his son, Arnold, instead of it passing to me. I was all about doing things the easy way, but after killing Arnold, I was unable to find the key. The destruc
tion of Oliver's tomb was more of a message to the rest of the family than anything else. I wanted those people to suffer for what they had done."
"And that was?"
"Digging up the tombs, Raymond." She smiled when she noticed the grim expression on my fact. "Oh now, what else could you believe it was?"
"Something more sinister than their jobs. Do you just go around desecrating the tombs of every archaeologist who ever lived?" If so, I'd hate to be the family of the guys with the reality TV show where they did the same thing.
"Only those who make it a point to go after magical artifacts."
I forced my face to stay straight, not wanting to give her a tell that I had the necklace, even more now than before knowing it was likely magical. Where my face was stone, my hands and arms were a different matter. Instinctively, I reached into my pocket and gripped the metal chain of the necklace, wanting more desperately than before to keep it out of her hands.
"Now, now, Raymond. If you are hiding something from me," her eyes drifted down to the hand in my pocket, "you are going to regret it. I'm a forgiving person though. If you hand the necklace over, I'll let you walk out of here with your life."
"And if I refuse."
"I'll make sure they take their time with you. Then I'll use the remains of your shattered corpse to kill everyone you know and love."
"Guess it's a good thing that's only two people, one of which you may find is a little tougher to chew on than me."
"If you are talking about the old man," she chuckled, "there's a reason he wasn't sent here to take me out. He is even less resilient to the death aura than you are. From what I've heard from my source, it took him nearly a week to recover from my presence the one time he got close."
My eyes widened. Never once had I even considered Max having a weakness. You don't gain a reputation for taking down dark wizards by having a weakness. That was the first step to getting knocked off your horse.
Dead of Night: The Nephalem Files (Book 3) Page 15
