Forsaken (11 page)

As she stepped outside, the sun backlit the capitol’s golden dome.

“It’s time,” Simon called out. He’d changed too, in jeans and sweatshirt now. He stood inside a large circle of candles that ringed both her dad and mom’s graves. Each candle was about twelve inches from its neighbor.

When Riley drew close, both of the trappers looked over at her. Beck’s face was set in a determined expression. Simon’s was full of compassion.

“You really think they’ll come for him?” she asked.

“They read the papers just like everyone else,” Beck replied.

She hadn’t even thought about that. How big of an article would her dad have rated? Front page?
No way.
Inside the paper somewhere, probably buried underneath notices for lost pets. Trappers only made the front page if they trashed law libraries.

Belatedly, Riley began to think of what this long night might be like. She wasn’t that good with being cold and sitting still. Never could stand camping. Then there was Simon. She really didn’t know him. What if he was creepy or something? She shoved that thought aside instantly. Her dad had thought he was okay. Then another worry caught up with her.

“What if I…” She sighed. “What if I need to go to the bathroom?”

Beck didn’t smirk like she figured he would. “There’s a toilet in the basement of the cemetery office. The door’s locked. The code’s in there,” he said, pointing at a booklet in Simon’s hand.

Oh.

Beck took a deep breath. “Whatever ya do, don’t break the circle. If ya kick over a candle or walk through the circle without doin’ it proper, it’s history. Ya understand?”

She nodded.

“Do ya really understand?” he pressed.

She glowered. “I’m not slow.”

Simon’s grin quickly vanished when the other trapper noticed it.

“It’s not that easy. The necros play all sorts of head games.” Beck looked over at Simon. “You’re in charge.”

Riley ground her teeth.

“I’ll keep them both safe, I promise,” Simon said diplomatically.

“Be sure ya do.” Beck turned on his heels and marched off toward the truck, fueled by some emotion Riley couldn’t fathom.

“Jerk,” she muttered.

“He’s okay,” Simon replied. “He’s just worried about you and your dad.”

The young trapper lit a kerosene lantern and set it on a flat piece of ground. “He says you’ve never done this before. Is that right?”

She nodded. “Mom died of cancer. It wasn’t pretty.”

His eyes softened. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but she was lying.

“Everything you need is in here,” he said, gesturing at the booklet. “There are sample invocations, or you can use one that has special meaning to you.”

“Like?”

“Some people call the circle into existence by invoking the names of the Archangels, others use football teams. It’s the intention that counts.”

Intention.
“Ohhkay.”

“A necro’s power is strongest at night, so you have to reset the circle each sundown. Doesn’t matter if it’s raining or whatever.”

“What happens during the day?” she asked.

“The cemetery has volunteers who sit vigil during the daylight hours.”

“Ah, does that cost anything?” she asked. Money was more of an issue than ever before.

“The Guild pays for it. They don’t have enough funds to cover twenty-four/seven. They figure the family will be here at night.”

“Got it.” She puzzled for moment. “Why didn’t a necro come for Dad before he was buried?”

“From what I understand, if a necromancer summons the deceased before the first sundown, the spell doesn’t work right.”

“Oh. So, how does this all work?” she asked, growing more nervous by the minute. What if she screwed something up?

Simon looked down at the booklet and then pointed at a gallon plastic jug. “Run a line of Holy Water just inside the candles.”

Riley broke the seal, twisted off the cap, and dribbled the water as instructed. Hunched over like a gnome wasn’t a comfortable position, so by the time she’d made the entire circle her back was beginning to cramp.

“Now you do it again in the other direction.”

Riley groaned and did as he asked.

“These aren’t ordinary candles,” she said, studying one. The wick looked more like a coiled metal rope than twisted fiber. The candle was short, like a votive.

“No, they’re special. The cemetery has more of them if you want to expand the circle. They don’t charge for them, but they would appreciate a donation.”

He went back to the instructions. “Move the candles onto the circle of Holy Water. Make sure they’re the same distance apart.”

More bending. When she stopped to rest, Simon urged her on. The sun was almost gone.

“Perfect!” he said. “Now light every other candle,
clockwise,
while I recite the invocation. Once you’re done, light the remaining candles in the opposite direction. Don’t pause in between. And whatever you do, don’t say a word until I’ve completed the invocation.”

Riley sort of freaked, trying to remember all the instructions.

He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll do okay.”

“What are you going to say?”

“The Lord’s Prayer.”

She took a deep breath and began to light every other candle. Her hand kept shaking, the demon bite causing her fingers to cramp. The wicks flamed in a sudden burst, then settled into a clear white light. Behind her, Simon’s strong voice filled the night air, slowly intoning The Lord’s Prayer in English and Latin.

Pater noster, qui es in caelis,

Our Father, which art in heaven,

Santificetur nomen tuum …

Hallowed be Thy name …

He didn’t stumble over the Latin, but sounded like he was born to it. After she’d lit all the candles Riley went still, afraid of doing something stupid and ruining everything.

Simon raised his arms to the heavens. “By the blessing of God, His Only Son, and His holy angels, let all inside this sanctified circle be safe from harm. Amen.”

“Amen,” she whispered and then grimaced. She wasn’t supposed to talk. Had she messed it up?

To her relief, a brilliant flash of light leapt from candle to candle until the entire circle was blazing. The flames shot high in the air like torches, then sent fiery tendrils above her, creating a glowing sphere around them. She felt a strange tightness, and her ears popped. The sphere shimmered for a few seconds, then the flames sank to ground level, dimming to a soft ethereal glow.

“Wow! It’s like magic!” she exclaimed.

Simon shook his head. “It’s God’s love. That’s stronger than any magic. As long as it flashes like that you know you’ve set the circle. If it doesn’t, you redo the invocation.”

“How do I get outside the circle without breaking it?”

“Ah, good question,” Simon replied. “You walk up to the candles, clear your mind, and visualize yourself walking through the barrier without disturbing it.”

Huh?
“But what if I kick over a candle?” she said.

“That would be bad. Here, I’ll show you.”

Simon rose, walked to the circle’s boundary, murmured something under his breath, and stepped over the candles.

“Okay. So how do you get back in?”

“You have to give me permission to enter.” Before she could ask how, he pointed at the booklet. “Page five, last paragraph.”

Riley found the passage and read, “If you mean no harm, then pass within.”

Simon stepped across the candles and returned to his place on the sleeping bag.

“And if you were a bad guy…”

“The circle would not let me in.”

“How does it know who’s a bad guy?”

He shrugged. “It’s a lot like a Holy Water ward. Evil things stay away.”

Sounds really iffy to me. But if Simon and Beck believe in this circle thing, there must be something to it.

“What if I accidentally break it?”

“Then you start all over, right after you set the candles. Oh, and every night you have to move the candles away from the original circle of Holy Water. Most folks make it a bit smaller.”

So many things to remember. “What if it rains?” she quizzed.

“Rain won’t break the circle, neither will wind, for that matter, though you will feel it. What’s important is that the circle remains intact and that you state its purpose clearly.” He sat on the sleeping bag, popping his knuckles one by one, clearly pleased with himself. “Now we wait until sunrise.”

“That was a lot more work than I realized,” she said, plopping down next to him. This would have been way hard if he hadn’t been here.

“Once you’ve done it a few times it’s no big deal. It’s harder when you’re on your own.”

She looked over at him. “How did you learn all this?”

“I come from a big family. Someone’s always dying, so my uncle taught me how to do the invocation. He’s a priest.”

A big family.
What would that be like? There’d only been her. Her mom had always joked that after you achieved perfection, why try again? Riley had always figured there was something more to it.

“I’m an only,” she said, then grimaced. He knew that.

Simon didn’t act like she’d said something stupid. “I wanted to be sometimes. I have four sisters and three brothers.”

“What’s it like with that many bodies in one house?”

“Like living in a beehive. We had a schedule posted on the two bathrooms. My sisters were the worst.”

Riley chuckled, wondering if that was true. His hair looked too good for a quick shampoo and blow-dry. She rearranged her coat so it would cover her legs. Luckily there was no wind. Or rain. Wouldn’t hurt the candles but it would be way ugly for the person stuck in the circle. In the distance a pale haze hung over the city. She could see the skyscrapers in downtown Atlanta, at least the few still lit at night. The high-pitched whine of the MARTA train heading east echoed around them.

She waited for Simon to say something. He just stared out into nothingness. It was going to be long night if he wasn’t going to talk.

“How old are you?” she asked, desperate to avoid the silence.

“Just turned twenty. You?”

“Seventeen.”

“You’re a little younger than my sister Amy. She got married last summer.” He paused and gave her a quizzical look. “So what are you going to do now that you’re on your own?”

On my own.
“Don’t know. There’s only my mom’s sister left. She lives in Fargo.”

“You could continue your apprenticeship there.”

“She wouldn’t go for that. She blames my dad for Mom’s death, like he personally planted the cancer in her or something. Nasty woman. I can’t live with her. No way.”

“Then who will you stay with?” Simon prodded.

“I don’t know. There is no one else.”

“Well, I’m sure Beck will help as best he can.”

There was the sound of footsteps. The man approaching them was as short as he was wide. His trench coat almost reached the ground, and he wore a fedora.

“Is he a necro?” Riley whispered.

“I’d say it’s a good bet,” Simon replied. “Be on your guard. They can be tricky.”

The man stopped just outside the circle of candles and tipped his hat.

“Good evening to you,” he said.

“Good evening,” Simon replied. He was polite to everyone, even someone who sold corpses for a living.

“My name is Mortimer Alexander and I am a licensed summoner,” the newcomer announced proudly.

“Darn. I’d hoped you were the pizza delivery guy,” Riley quipped.

A skiff of a smile crossed the man’s face. “No such luck.” He sobered instantly. “First, I wish to offer my sincere condolences for your recent loss.”

“Ah, thanks.”

“However, now is the time to be practical. Your loved one resides in a better place,” the necromancer continued, vaguely waving toward the sky. “His earthly shell, however, can be put to use for a better society.” He dug in his pocket and consulted a piece of paper. “I see that Mr. Blackthorne would occasionally donate to charity. Perhaps we can reach an arrangement where I will contribute a sum in his name and in trade he will act as a paid domestic for a specified period of time.”

“Ah, well,” Riley began. Why had she been warned against these guys? This one sounded so reasonable. Her dad was always for the underdog. Wouldn’t he want to help out even now?

“Riley?” When she didn’t respond, Simon joggled her elbow. Then he shook it. “Riley!”

“What?” she snapped.

“He’s using persuasion magic. They’ll do anything to get to your father.”

“Got it,” she said. Simon relaxed and his hand retreated. She wished he’d left it there.

The necro shuffled papers. “I understand your sacrifice and am prepared to make monthly payments into an account to cover the … inconvenience of having your loved one exhumed. At the end of a year, we agree to inhume him in a dignified ceremony and pay all expenses required to do so.”

Riley remembered the Deader on the street toting packages for the rich lady. What if that had been her dad? She shuddered.

“No way,” she said, crossing her hands over her chest in defiance.

“Ah, I see that you have some reservations,” the necromancer continued. “That is expected. It is a big step and—”

“Not happening. Now go away.”

“Please,” Simon added. She wondered if he was that nice to the demons when he trapped them.

Mortimer looked crestfallen. “I understand. You should be aware that I’m the most ethical of the summoners you’ll meet before the full moon. It earns me no end of grief from the others, but I feel honesty is important.” He placed a business card at the edge of the burning circle. “In case you wish to contact me.”

“Not likely,” Riley replied.

“I understand. Thank you for your time. Again, my sincere condolences.”

Then he was gone, walking slowly up the path while consulting his pile of papers. When he passed the cemetery office, he cut west toward the parking lot.

Riley sighed in relief. “Well, that’s over.”

Simon shook his head. “Like he said, he’s the first of many.”

“Why?” she asked, surprised.

“Rich folks like to collect unique things. In this case, it’d be a famous master trapper as their servant. No one else would have one, so that would make him very special.”