nancy werlock's diary s01 - episodes 10

by Julie Ann Dawson

  I show Houston the Necromancer certification and the photocopy of Hannah's wedding portrait.

  “It wasn't uncommon for people to use variant spellings of their own names,” says Brynwolf. “It wasn't like today with all of the security issues.”

  “She just changed her identity and hid in plain sight,” says Houston.

  “You both need to understand that it has really only been in the last hundred years that the various colleges have started…sharing…information. Each College traditionally kept its membership information under lock and guard. And until a few decades ago, even the information that was shared was sorted manually. We really just now how the infrastructure in place to connect the dots.

  “At the time she was reinventing herself, the College of Necromancy was dealing with the Schism. Anyone who might have realized who she was was busy dealing with the rift within the College.”

  “I guess we know now what happened to Hannah Monfort's first two husbands,” says Houston. “Sucked their life energies then inherited their fortunes. It all looks like natural causes because they were both older men anyway.”

  “Houston, look at this,” I say as I hand him a copy of a daguerreotype portrait of Fiona and Francois Dubois' wedding. In the image, we can see the couple with both sets of parents. Standing next to Fiona's mother...Hannah Monfort. “We never did find a death certificate for Hannah.”

  “That is because she allegedly committed suicide a few days before Wilma was born,” says Brynwolf. “There are pages from Fiona's diary in there. She talks about her mother becoming increasingly depressed about her old age. Francois found her dead in the cellar of her home. She had slit her wrists.”

  Houston picks up the page of the diary where Fiona talks about the death. “Nightshade petals, candles, circle of salt...sounds like a ritual.”

  “The Soul Jar. She released her spirit from her body and sent it into Wilma,” says Brynwolf. “It seems that after the first jump, she unlocked a method of transferring her soul that didn't require such elaborate measures. So long as it was blood of her own blood, she could simply slip in.”

  “Arachne’s Web!” I shout. “Chana Magus was a necromancer first and foremost and wanted to preserve her hereditary magic bloodline to consolidate her power. She would jump into the body of an unborn descendant. That’s how she hid and how she maintained her power.”

  Houston screams and flips over the desk.

  “Houston!” I shout at him.

  “April!” he cries. “Mom wasn’t guiding April. She was April!”

  “We didn’t realize that until recently,” says Brynwolf. “During the Inquest we made the connection between April’s emergency application to the College and Vivika.”

  “She used Aunt Ruth. She knew. She knew that people were digging into her past and it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out. That's why she donated her eggs so that Aunt Ruth could have a baby. The baby would be hers and she could jump in and nobody would know!”

  “When I realized who she was, I went to the Eighth of the Nine. The Nine determined that it was best to make it look like…make it look like she was just killed. If we had known about the circumstances of your aunt’s pregnancy, we would have handled the matter differently, but at the time we felt eliminating her then and there would have ended it. They didn’t want to publicly reopen the case against Chana Magus. The implications of it; if people realized she had successfully been using that Forbidden magic for so long. That such magic existed. The Council wasn’t even told. Just a few Justicars in case things went wrong. In this age, the risks were too great. And there were considerations given because…because of Houston.”

  “Me? I was just a kid. And I didn’t have any powers. What was I going to do?”

  “The Nine wanted to ensure you had an opportunity for a normal life.”

  Houston kicks the overturned desk. “That worked out well!”

  “Houston, calm down,” I say.

  “No! I will not calm down! How do you calm down over this bullshit? My mother is a centuries’ old psychopath and their plan for me to have a normal life was to have my father kill my mother and stepfather to make it look like…what…tragic domestic violence?” He rubs his hands over his head. “Harlan must have seen something he wasn’t supposed to. That’s why she tried to kill him. That’s why he said what he said. He must have seen something.”

  “I’m sorry, Houston,” I say.

  “That’s why she Imprinted on me. That’s why she was so hyped up on you being my baby mama. She…that bitch. She wanted us to have a baby so she could take it over. Imagine if she had managed that?”

  “Well I, for one, do not wish to imagine her with Werlock hereditary magic,” says Brynwolf. He looks at me. “Your bloodline has always run deep with power.”

  “Lord Advocate, what I don’t understand is why you went into hiding when you have this evidence?”

  “The Justicars who initially helped me with my investigation are all dead, Madame Warlock. I believe you can guess their names?”

  My friend Steve Harken is a Justicar. Over the last few years, he has been investigating the mysterious deaths of several Justicars around the world. We had originally thought it was a group of rogue Necromancers using Forbidden magic. “Anatole? Sonny?” I say. He nods.

  “Some of them were in other parts of the world?” asks Houston. “Could she do that?”

  “Time and space don’t mean the same thing in the astral plane as they do on the material. With enough magical power, an astral entity could transverse the globe in a matter of minutes. And since she appears to have been…eating...their magical force, she was replenishing herself with each kill.”

  “Replenishing herself,” mutters Houston. “She’s the one that has been killing the adepts in the area. She must be weakening herself, hiding from the Lord Advocate. She can’t sustain herself in the astral plane so she’s been killing witches. It…it was her. We were wondering all this time why it didn’t kill me. It was my mother.”

  “I went to ground to force her hand,” says Brynwolf. “I can’t directly confront her. Not if she is using Forbidden magic. There are no known counter-measures for it. From what we understand all she needs is line of sight. If she can see me, she can kill me. Even if I have wards around me, it wouldn't matter. She has to be destroyed. For good this time. I know how to do it. But I can’t get close to her.”

  “I can,” says Houston.

  “She thought to use you against me,” Brynwolf says to me. “To help her draw me out to finish me. She asked you to get her Persian griffon eggs, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, among other things. Very expensive things.”

  “The ritual she intends to perform; there are fragments of it among the old notes regarding the Soul Jar ritual. The original ritual was necromantic. It allowed you to take over a body, but not a mind. But even all those centuries ago, she was dabbling in dangerous theories that would allow a person to take over the memories of the host body.”

  “She takes over your body and she becomes Lord Advocate of the Eighth of the Nine,” says Houston.

  “A lot of good it does her if she’s in the body of a person on the run.”

  “You need to think bigger, Madame Warlock. Only the Lord Advocates ever know the physical location of the Nine.”

  “She takes you over, she learns the location of the Eighth of the Nine…and then tries to take him over?” says Houston.

  “Or the Fifth of the Nine. She was, after all, a Necromancer first. And while the Eighth would at least be prepared for her, the Fifth might not be.”

  “I have to kill her,” says Houston. “I’m the only one that could get close enough.”

  “No! Lord Advocate…”

  “Houston isn’t strong enough to kill her,” Brynwolf says. “But we will need him to help trap her. The ritual that she is planning is very precise and therefore susceptible to sabotage. We could turn her trap on her, and then she can be dealt with
.”

  “Right now she thinks all of the wardings Houston has been throwing up are to protect us from you. And because he’s mad at her.”

  “When did you talk to her?” Houston asks.

  “This morning after I got out of the shower. I thought she was just…it doesn’t matter now.”

  “Those files also include a summary written with ghost ink in infernal. Slip it to your mother when next you speak to her. With that information, she should be able to confirm for you the truth of everything I have said. In the event you have doubts. Don’t let Vivika know. But even if Vivika finds it, she won’t be able to read it. At least I don’t think so. I don’t have reason to believe she ever studied demonology. But we may need infernal support as we cannot call on mortal help. Anyone not you or Houston she’ll kill on sight if they even get within threat range of her. And considering everything, she may not realize demons are a threat until it is too late.”

  “I’ll have to remove the charm to talk to her,” I say. “Which means Vivika can eavesdrop.”

  “When you want to call your mom, tell me. I’ll…I’ll call mine. If I remove some of the wards in my room she’ll manifest to talk to me physically. I can keep her distracted so you can talk to your mom.”

  “I am truly sorry that you have been forced into this, young man,” says Brynwolf. “This is exactly what we did not want when the original order to terminate was made. But even the Nine are not infallible. Thankfully, they know that and adjust accordingly.”

  “Yeah, lots of people are sorry these days.” Houston collapses into a chair. “So we are going to kill her, right? This isn’t going to be one of those ‘oh, let’s just lock her away and let some future generation deal with her when she breaks out’ bullshit, right?”

  “No, the plan is to end her permanently.”

  “Houston, I know you are furious in the moment, but are you really going to be all right with this? Regardless of everything, she is your mother.”

  “She stopped being my mother when I realized she tried to kill Harlan. If I’m honest, she stopped being my mother long before that. Besides, she’ll kill you to preserve her own power. And you’ve been more of a mother to me than she ever was. If I have to choose, I stand with you.” He looks up at me and bites his lower lip before saying, “Not to imply that you are old enough to be my mother or anything. You are way too young to have a son my age.”

  “And there is the Houston I know and love,” I say as I walk over to him and give him a kiss on the forehead.

  “The next couple of weeks are going to be vital,” says Brynwolf. “We will only get one chance at this. The charm will protect you from Chana Magus reading your thoughts, but it won’t be enough. If Houston is willing, I can teach him a talent that will allow him to alter his aura. Chana Magus shares the same weakness many powerful witches do; she will always trust her magical power over mundane sources. Block your aura from her and she will rely on her powers of observation to read your body language, voice inflection, eye contact. Any of those might give you away as she will no doubt grow increasingly paranoid as we get closer to Sahmain. But let her see a false aura that reflects what she wants to believe; that her son loves her and trusts her, and she will act accordingly.”

  “That is a useful ability, Lord Advocate,” I say. “And how widespread is that talent among psions?”

  “Madame Warlock, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you sound a bit like a Justicar. It isn’t a talent generally taught to those below Rank Two, for the very concerns your question so artfully implies. But we have an extreme situation here, and Houston has demonstrated both the innate ability to learn and the good sense to be discreet in other sensitive matters.”

  I read through the folder of evidence while the Lord Advocate works with Houston on developing the false aura talent. On occasion, I look up from the folder to see what they are doing. Altering your aura is an ability many demons develop to better hide among humans and send demon hunters off on false trails. As a demonologist, I can normally notice subtle cues that would alert me to something being off. But even that specific training isn’t perfect and takes a great deal of concentration. I wonder if any of the Justicars are even aware of this talent among psions? Steve would flip out, because his job is hard enough already without learning that a rogue psion might actually be able to completely change his or her aura.

  It takes several hours for Houston to learn the talent. I check in with Eric at the shop. Anastasia had called to see if she could come in early, as school let out everyone at noon because the heater went down. It’s early October, not a blizzard in December. They close school because the temperature drops below 70 degrees in the building? But on the bright side, I’m glad Eric told her to come in. This is busy season for an occult shop and we did leave him there alone.

  When they finish the lesson, the Lord Advocate asks to speak with me privately for a moment. Houston starts to protest, but the Lord Advocate says, “I have things to say that are for her ears first. If she chooses to tell them to you at a time in the future, I leave that to her as she is your patron. Even now I have an obligation to recognize the protocols of the apprentice-patron relationship.”

  “And what protocol would that be?” Houston huffs.

  “Protocol M32-194-2485-7661-9392, if you want to know the specific protocol. I can have someone send you a copy of the three volumes for your perusal, if the reading interests you.”

  “Nah, that’s good. Maybe when I prepare for my next trials.”

  After Houston leaves, I say, “I don’t know all of the protocols off the top of my head, but generally the M series protocols have to do with accounting and dealing with government agencies?”

  “He doesn’t know that. And it did get him to leave.” I chuckle. He shrugs. “I didn’t want to call in the Esteemed to find the exact protocol. Shoot me.”

  “So, about the Star Wars clues…”

  “I was trying to figure out how to safely contact you and I saw Houston often makes Star Wars jokes on his Magelite page. He’s a geek with an inquisitive mind. I gambled that he would figure it out.”

  “Seemed like some fairly obscure clues, though. Unless, of course, the person putting together the clues was a bit of a geek himself.”

  He smiles. “When I was twelve, my psionic powers began to surface. I was terrified. My parents weren’t witches and I knew nothing about magic. Things would spontaneously catch on fire, or things would move based on my emotions. I started picking up surface thoughts and hearing voices. Then my dad took me to see Star Wars in the theater. And I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was a Jedi!

  “I begged my dad to take me to see it again and again. On the third time, there was an old man in a wheelchair seated in the aisle next to us. In the middle of the movie, my dad got up to go use the restroom. That was when the old man leaned over and said ‘I can train you in the Force’ and he lifted a piece of popcorn out of my bucket with his mind.”

  “So that is how you met your Yoda?”

  “Tomas had been aware of me for months and was trying to determine how best to make contact. It is very difficult for psions, you know, because so many of us do spontaneously develop our powers out of nothing. We don’t have the family ties that can help us understand what is happening. I was a very scared little boy. He reached out and helped me. Which brings us to Houston.”

  “There is something else troubling you?”

  “It took him three hours to learn the ritual.”

  “Well, he is new to the craft.”

  “No, no. Nancy...er..Madame Warlock. That is a ritual that usually takes weeks to master. No matter how powerful his mother’s imprinting on him, it is highly unusual for a psion to just absorb knowledge like that. That is the sort of speed you normally find with hereditary magic.”

  “His father wasn’t a witch.”

  “Are we sure who his father is?”

  “You think Vivika was having an affair or something?”

  �
��She hated her husband. She only tolerated him I assume because she wanted a child. I wouldn’t think adultery would be so outlandish a sin considering who we are talking about.”

  “I think at this point, even if his father was a witch, that the last thing Houston needs is more family drama.”

  “I don’t disagree. But it is possible his father never knew about him. And it might do the young man some good to at least have the option to find out, should he decide to pursue it. Or at the very least, to not spend the rest of his life thinking both of his parents were murderers. And regardless, when this is over, I would like your permission to take a more active interest in Houston’s training. With his natural talents and your training, he could make a fine Justicar one day. And I think that might suit him. He has a deep desire to do good. I would like to make sure that he gets that chance if he wishes it.”

  “Thank you, Lord Advocate. I think when all of this is over, that would be a wonderful idea.”

  October 6th,

  Mother’s aura flares bright red as she reads Brynwolf’s letter. By the end of the letter, she’s cloaked in a shroud of Hellfire. I am so glad she’s still in the astral plane. I don’t want to have to replace the carpet. “Give me thirty minutes to call up a few mariliths and I end this right now.”

  “Mother!” I point at the ceiling. Houston is conversing with his mother to keep her from prying while I speak with mine.