The Necromancer's Apprentice

by Icy Sedgwick

  She strode away from Jyx. Bandaged bodies lay on marble slabs on either side of the room’s central aisle. Jyx shuddered, unable to remember the last time he’d been close to a dead body. Living in the Underground City, he’d encountered many suspicious piles at the bottom of the many closes, and seen the apprentice undertakers with their dead-carts, heading for the graveyards, but these were real corpses, and royal ones, at that.

  “You’ll soon grow accustomed to this,” Eufame said.

  Jyx scowled in her direction. He hated how easily she seemed to read his thoughts. Perhaps he’d find a text in the archives that might teach him to guard his mind. Eufame’s step faltered and Jyx thought of his mother, scrubbing the kitchen floor with black soap. He wouldn’t even be able to consider pursuing knowledge unless Eufame felt he needed to learn it.

  A tabby cat poked its head around the side of the tomb nearest to Jyx. It peered up at him with huge golden eyes, its whiskers quivering in the cold air. The Wolfkin behind Jyx uttered a low growl, but the cat ignored it. Jyx thought of the rat catchers in the Underground City, huge fierce bags of fur with claws like knives and tempers to match. The little tabby barely seemed related to them.

  “You have a cat?”

  “I do. Meet Bastet. She keeps down the rodents in here. She’s quite friendly, I assure you. Nothing like the beasts you’ll be used to. Now come along, Jyx. I must show you your quarters before I can set you any tasks. It’s vital that you consider this place to be your home.”

  Jyx trotted down the central aisle that ran the length of the room. Eufame paused, and Jyx saw that another aisle crossed his path, cutting through the slabs across the width of the Vault. From this vantage point, the far end of the room’s dim lines was faintly discernible in the gloom. More bubbling apparatus occupied a far wall, though the smells from those flasks were less pleasing to his nose. Tall archways cut the walls at either end of the shorter aisle, and Wolfkin paintings guarded the doors. The more he stared at the paintings, the more Jyx became convinced that they were not Wolfkin. Perhaps they’re Wolfkin ancestors.

  “Jyx, you’re staring a lot. It is most unbecoming,” Eufame said.

  “It’s all just so new to me,” Jyx replied.

  “I understand that, but before we go much further, I feel I must point out to you that the world is a lot older than you realise. The magick you learned in the Academy is useful, yes, but there are far more ancient, far more powerful forms of magick. If you learn well, then I will be able to teach you these. But you must understand that the ways of this house are not the ways of your previous life.”

  “I know things will be different. I don’t have to put up with that idiot Markus Prady, for one thing,” Jyx said.

  “That is true, but things will be different in other ways too. You already know that I am older than most. I was five hundred and seventy-three on my last birthday. My age alone grants me access to magick beyond that which the Academy will even officially recognise. You have become part of a very ancient tradition, Jyx.”

  Jyx stared at Eufame. He wanted to see lines on her face, or streaks of white in her mane of black hair. He knew she was old, but hearing her say it unsettled him. He wanted to run away, leaving nothing behind but his screams, but a voice whispered in the back of his mind. It was the same voice that persuaded him to seek out forbidden texts in the library, and told him to accept Eufame’s offer. The same voice that sought knowledge—at any price.

  “Few can accept my age, not least the fools that run this city. Did you know that I originally embalmed most of these royal buffoons that the prince hopes to present as part of his coronation pageant?”

  “Really?” Jyx fought to banish the gawp from his face. He didn’t want Eufame to think he was surprised by everything.

  “Yes, Jyx, I embalmed them. You see, the necromancer general does not merely raise the dead. It is part of our job to prepare and protect them. That was part of the role of the Wolfkin for centuries, before the Academy started using them as guard dogs, and this house was established.”

  The Wolfkin behind Jyx growled. Jyx turned and looked up into its canine face. Sleek grey fur gave way to smooth grey skin that rippled across huge muscles. Its lips vibrated with the snarl, displaying glimpses of white fang. Jyx knew he should be afraid, but he saw pride and disgust in the Wolfkin’s icy blue eyes. The growl was not intended for him.

  “But the Wolfkin—”

  “You will learn of their ancestry when they deem it to be necessary. It is not my story to tell, but theirs. Anyway, enough of that lesson.” Eufame clapped her hands and wiggled her fingers, as if trying to dispel negative vibes.

  “So the rooms…”

  “Yes. The Vault’s layout is rather simple. The doorway in the western wall leads to my chambers. Do you know why the west is significant?” Eufame pointed to the doorway at the far end of the short aisle.

  “I’ve never come across anything about directions in my reading,” Jyx said.

  His ears burned and he stared at the floor, cursing himself for disregarding all of the work on folklore. I just wanted to learn the magick.

  “A common mistake, Jyx. People dismiss folklore or myth as trivial or silly. They forget it contains nuggets of truth. In this case, the west is important as the direction in which the sun sets. The Lands of the Dead lie to the west. It seems fitting that my chambers would lie to the west, doesn’t it?”

  Jyx nodded.

  “On no account are you to venture beyond that arch. If you require me and I am not in the Vault, one of the Wolfkin will fetch me. You may also ask Bastet to find me. You, however, may not.”

  “Yes, Miss Delsenza.”

  “Your chambers are this way.”

  Eufame ducked beneath the archway in the eastern wall. Jyx gulped to see the darkness swallow her up. He forced himself to ignore the rising sense of dread, and plunged headfirst into the black shadows beyond the archway.

  5

  Two chambers lay beyond the archway, connected by doorways cut into the stone. Empty bookcases lined the walls of the first room, surrounding the fireplace in the southern wall. Jyx looked at the cold grate, and pictured flames dancing, casting their shadows across the floor. The fireplace was the first sign of real habitation in the house, and his heart leapt when he spotted a basket of firewood on the floor nearby.

  “This will become your study as you become more adept. Each worker at the house collects their own library, and you will be expected to fill books with your observations and thoughts about all that you see and do. Supplies will be provided and if you work well, one day your own books will line these shelves,” said Eufame, gesturing to the bookcases. Jyx gasped at the idea that this would be his library, a collection of his very own.

  “Indeed, Jyx. I also see you noticed the firewood. Feel free to light a fire should you choose to. I do not share your specific set of needs, but they will be catered to during your time here.”

  The Wolfkin grunted and pointed at a velvet curtain in the corner. It crossed the room and lifted the swathe of fabric to reveal a large box. A ring of felt surrounded the hole in the top of the box, and a wooden rod hung from the ceiling on a length of chain. Eufame wrinkled her nose at the sight of it.

  “That is the garderobe. I am given to understand that inhabitants of the Underground City deposit their waste into chamber pots, which are emptied out of the window. Is this correct?”

  “Some people do. Some people have chutes in the house that lead to the sewers.”

  “I see. Well this garderobe is plumbed into the sewer system, so you need only pull that chain when you are done. I will not have the purity of this house infected with abjection.”

  Eufame swept out of the chamber and into the next room. Another fireplace took up part of a wall, back to back with its twin in the first room, and tapestries hung on the other walls. They depicted scenes of legend or myth, a far cry from the austere paintings on the walls elsewhere in the house. Mannequins in the corner held two
changes of clothes, and an empty sarcophagus stood against the far wall.

  “This will be your bedchamber. I received these tapestries from the Academy in order to better ease your transition.” Eufame pointed at the tapestries, although her downturned mouth and wrinkled nose suggested she didn’t approve of their frivolous content.

  “Bedchamber?” Jyx looked around, eager to see a bed. His small pallet at home would be nothing compared to whatever palatial furniture Eufame provided. Hopefully it would be free of the fleas that infested the garret of his Underground City tenement.

  Eufame smirked and gestured to the sarcophagus. Jyx stared, horror rising in the back of his throat as he thought of the last person to rest there.

  “Oh do not look so surprised, Jyx. Consider where you are, and remember that there are many who would willingly donate limbs in order to sleep in the resting place of a king.”

  “A king?”

  “Yes. The great-great-great-great-grandfather of our brand new kingling, if I remember correctly. His dimensions most closely resemble yours, hence the choice of his coffin as your bed. Now come along, Jyx. We must get to work. These corpses will not raise themselves.”

  Eufame left the room, and Jyx trotted after her. The Wolfkin waited for them in Jyx’s study, bringing up the rear as they headed back into the main Vault. Eufame walked along the central aisle towards the far end of the room, and stopped beside a red marble slab and its resident mummy. The bandages were dark yellow, spotted with brown, but a delicate diadem still encircled its skull.

  “Meet Queen Neferpenthe. She’s one of our oldest, and she’s to be the jewel of the procession. She had magick of her own so we are to treat her very carefully.”

  “How old is she?” asked Jyx. He stared at the moonstone set into the diadem, resting on the mummy’s forehead. The stone was larger than the crusts of bread he could expect for supper at home.

  “I am unsure.” Eufame’s expression said otherwise but she clapped her hands and moved on. “Now how much do you know about necromancy?”

  “Not as much as I’d like to. The Academy never talked about it, so I read bits and pieces in the library, but not all of it made sense, especially when I was translating things myself. Everyone acted like it was something we shouldn’t even mention.”

  “That’s hardly surprising. Necromancy is considered the darkest of all dark arts. It involves calling beyond the veil, and commanding the spirit back to its body. The process is relatively simple for the newly dead, and many are only too happy to return. But the longer the spirit and the body are apart, the more difficult it becomes,” said Eufame.

  “What do you need me to do?” asked Jyx. His mind flitted among the fragments of knowledge gleaned in the library. Perhaps Eufame would allow him to unwrap the mummy, or maybe he would be allowed to create the ritual circle.

  “Sweep the floor.”

  The Wolfkin stepped forward and thrust a broom into Jyx’s hand. Jyx stared down at the rough bristles and the handle worn smooth with use. It wasn’t even the ritual broom used to sweep psychic negativity from the circle; it was just a regular broom.

  “Don’t look like that, Jyx. Everyone has to start somewhere. Now I suggest you start at the far end and make your way towards the spiral stairs.”

  Eufame turned her back on Jyx and leaned over the mummy on the slab. Jyx scowled and jabbed at the floor with the broom. A heavy paw landed on his shoulder and guided him across the Vault. A claw appeared at the edge of his vision and pointed at the corner. Jyx turned around and stared up into the impassive face of the Wolfkin. Beyond, Eufame busied herself with Queen Neferpenthe, sliding a thin blade between the ancient bandages. Jyx looked down. Dust covered the floor around the slabs, settled in the cracks between the flat stones.

  I could use a whirlwind charm.

  “Jyx, I know what you’re thinking, but just use the broom,” said Eufame, not even looking up.

  Jyx threw an evil look in the necromancer general’s direction, and stabbed at the floor with the broom.

  6

  Jyx sat in his study in the new rocking chair Eufame had provided. After a week of menial tasks, she’d felt it only fair that Jyx receive some kind of reward. With no other form of seating in his quarters, the chair seemed the ideal choice, and after a day of menial tasks, rocking before a roaring fire was Jyx’s sole point of pleasure. A single book had also been provided to start his new collection, a thin tome about ritual circles. It lay on the bookshelf, discarded once Jyx realised he’d already read it during an illicit browsing session in the Academy library between study periods. He glared at it and snorted—such juvenile material. Even Markus Prady could have understood it.

  He felt guilty to suddenly think of Markus; he hadn’t thought of his life before the house very often during his first week. Eufame’s tasks consumed his time during the day, and at night he was so exhausted he fell into a dreamless sleep. Yet with the chair came parchment and a quill, and Eufame allowed him to compose a short note to his mother. Dean Whittaker had sent word about Jyx’s removal to the house, but Jyx wanted to explain further himself. He was careful about what he said, knowing that a judge would be required to read the note to his mother, but he wanted her to know he was safe, and if everything went well, he’d finally be able to provide for them.

  The note lay bound in a neat scroll on the fireplace, ready for delivery, and Jyx’s study journal lay open in his lap. Eufame instructed him to keep one, making notes on all he saw and learned in the Vault. After a week, his scratchy handwriting covered just one page of the notebook. So far, all he’d seen Eufame do was unwrap several mummies, but she spoke to them in an alien tongue as she did so, and Jyx noted only snippets of what he thought she’d said. Without access to a library, Jyx had no hope of translating any of it—even if he’d known what language it was.

  His single page of notes related to the task Eufame allowed him to do. Sweeping the entire Vault took two days, after which he spent another two days mopping the floor. His decision to separate the ordinary dust from the magickal dust earned him a rare smile from Eufame, and by day five, she allowed him to disenchant the piles of bandages retrieved from the mummies. A Wolfkin took away the remaining linen to be burned in the House’s furnaces, while Jyx caught the enchantments in old glass bottles.

  “Those enchantments may be reused, so we might as well keep them. It isn’t exactly safe to burn enchanted fabric. One never knows which charm will activate a rogue fire elemental,” Eufame had said.

  She’d told him a tale about a previous apprentice who had done exactly that, and the ensuing flame plague almost destroyed half of the city. Jyx laughed at the requisite points of the story but he couldn’t help hearing a vague warning behind Eufame’s words. He spent the rest of the day storing the enchantment bottles in the cabinets up in the gallery.

  He studied his notes, wondering what use he could find for this new skill. Perhaps he could disenchant the fabrics on sale in the Mystic Market, and sell the enchantments to the back street dealers of the Underground City. He tapped his quill against his lower lip, and frowned. There was a flaw in this plan—it required him to leave the House of the Long Dead, and Eufame didn’t even allow him to leave the Vault.

  Movement caught his attention by the door. A pair of eyes burned like golden droplets of fire in the pool of darkness near the arch. Jyx closed the notebook and set it on the floor with the quill. Bastet padded into the chamber, flicking her tail as she went. She stopped three feet away from the rocking chair, and sat.

  “Hello, Bastet. What are you doing in here?”

  She wiggled her whiskers in reply, swishing her tail across the flagstone floor. She caught sight of the pewter plate beside the fireplace, a plate that had, until recently, held Jyx’s supper. The cat mewed, and Jyx tossed her a few morsels of chicken he’d saved from his meal. He’d never been in a position to have scraps to feed an animal before.

  “Do you think Miss Delsenza would let me have a pet? I mean, I
used to have my brothers and sisters to talk to at home. Well, I didn’t talk to them much, if at all, but they were there if I wanted to talk to them. It’s a bit, well, quiet here.”

  Bastet stretched, never taking her liquid eyes off Jyx.

  “I suppose you’re right. I’m still new here, and I doubt she’d let me have a pet in case it contaminated something. I just wish I had someone to talk to, or something to do.”

  Bastet looked at the bookshelf, and back at Jyx. He followed her gaze to the single book.

  “I’ve already read it.”

  “Then read it again.”

  Jyx looked up to see Eufame framed by the archway. His cheeks burned with shame, and he wondered what she’d heard. He thought again of the skeleton embedded in the upstairs floor.

  “Good evening, Miss Delsenza.”

  “Good evening, Jyx. I have been summoned to the Palace to give the prince a progress report, and I don’t really have time for it, but he doesn’t like to be kept waiting. However, I did take you on as an apprentice for a reason, so I was wondering if you’d care to expand your repertoire of chores?”

  “Of course! What would you like me to do?” Jyx stood up, brushing the crumbs from his robe.

  “There is a pot of salve in the Vault. I need you to anoint the eyelids of those mummies whom I have already unwrapped. The salve contains a particular compound that only the dead can see on the spiritual plane, and it will help guide them back to their body. It allows the dead to ‘see’, so to speak. Will you be able to manage that?”

  “Of course, Miss Delsenza! What is the salve called?” Jyx snatched up his journal and quill, and dipped the pen into the inkwell on the mantelpiece.

  “Aperuit oculos. If you have any concerns, then cease proceedings and ask me your questions when I return. If in doubt, do nothing. I would rather explain it again and use up more time than have you do it wrong. You don’t have any incantations to worry about, or anything of that sort. Merely smear the salve onto the eyelids, and move onto the next one.”