Finn Fancy Necromancy (46 page)

Zeke might have been able to strike, with his berserker speed. But I wasn't Zeke.

I realized what I had to do. It wasn't what I wanted. But it was the only real choice I had. The only way I could save my brother, the only way I could keep my word to Zeke and save his sister. He'd shown me how far he would go to save her, to protect us all. I had to trust in that example.

“All right. I'll do it. Stop the water, please.”

“Very well.” Grandfather stood, crossed to the corner of the hallway, and placed one hand over a square metal plate on the wall. “The water has stopped. Do as I ask, and I'll drain it. Betray me, and you'll have just enough time to hear the water start again before you die.”

“I understand.”

I crossed to the locked door and did my best to clear my mind. The problem was, all those little meditation tricks I knew to put myself in a state of readiness, I'd learned those from Grandfather. So using them reminded me of him, which sort of ruined the whole point of trying to meditate.

And then there was the whole killing Sammy or everyone dies thing to mess with my cool.

I opened the door. Sammy sat on the floor, rocking gently back and forth in Mattie's arms. Welts covered her skin, and her eyes looked puffy, swollen as she cried: an allergic reaction to the magic Grandfather had used against her. Mattie gave me a frightened look as the door swung open, then her eyes widened in recognition.

“Uncle Finn!” She burst into tears. “I knew you'd come. Is Dad with you?”

“Everything's going to be okay, Mattie,” I said. “I need Sammy for a minute. Sammy, can you come out here, please?”

“Is that bastard dead?” Sammy asked in a weak voice.

“No. But I need your help.”

Mattie stood. “I don't think she—”

“It's okay,” Sammy said. She struggled to her feet with Mattie's help and walked with ginger steps to the door. She glanced past me to where Grandfather stood, then looked me in the eye. “I'm trusting you.”

“I know,” I said, trying to keep my voice from betraying me. I took her arm and led her out into the room. I glanced back at Mattie. “Don't worry. It'll all be over soon.”

“Wait!” Mattie said, stepping toward me. I closed the door in her face.

“Don't waste time, Finn,” Grandfather said. “It's best if you do it quickly, like ripping off a bandage.”

“Finn?” Sammy asked.

“I'm sorry, Sammy. It'll be quick, I promise.”

She looked from me to Grandfather. Tears welled in her eyes. “You bastards can take your Talking and ram it up your ass.”

She kicked me in the balls.

You know that feeling you get when you've eaten way too many jalapeños or other spicy food followed by ice cream, and you have a sudden, painful, sweat-inducing pressure low down to get it out of you by the path of least resistance?

And have you ever had the explosive, tear-inducing pain of being hit in the nose?

Combine the two, and that's how I felt. Except in my balls.

Sammy made a break for the hallway. Grayson didn't bother to chase after her or stop her, he just stepped well back from kicking range as she passed and said, “There's nowhere to go.” To me he said, “That is why you don't waste time apologizing, Finn. Just do what must be done.”

“Yes, sir.” I limped after Sammy, into the hallway. She pounded at the door while Vee tried shouting something from the other side. I looked back. Grandfather watched us from the end of the hall with arms crossed.

“Sammy,” I said. “There's nowhere to go. You said you trust me. Trust this—if you don't let me do this, everyone is going to die—you, Mattie, everyone.” I took a deep breath and raised my hands. She pressed her back against the door, her eyes confused and terrified. “Don't be ashamed if you scream,” I said, and flicked my eyes to the side, doing the eyeball equivalent of nodding over my shoulder at Grandfather. “It's expected.”

I raised my hands as if feeling the air between us, and began my summoning. The low chant wasn't necessary, of course. But it helped me to concentrate. And it let both Sammy and Grandfather know that I'd begun.

I gave Sammy a quick, emphatic frown and flicked my eyes to the side again.

Her eyes widened in understanding, and she fell to the ground screaming.

Zeke's baton felt cold against my skin, his blood and flakes of skin resonated against my arm. I focused on that and summoned his spirit.

“Hello?”
Zeke's voice was hollow, distant, and only I could hear it.

“Good,” Grandfather said. “I can feel her spirit energy. Now tear it free.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, leaning toward Sammy, and toward Zeke's growing presence. “You're dead. But at least you died to save Vee and the others.”

Grandfather sighed. “I told you, don't apologize, Finn. If you really want to end her pain, finish her.”

“I'm … dead?”
Zeke said.

“Yes,” I said, looking back at Grandfather. “But this isn't easy for me. I may need your help this one last time.”

“School's over, Finn,” Grandfather said. “You must do this alone. Do it now, and this will all be over.”

“Vee, is she safe?”

“I … doubt it,” I said. “You're possessed, Grandfather, of far greater strength than me. And you possess complete control. I get that you're the only one who can open the doors and set Vee and Pete and everyone free. I'm no fool to oppose your will. But that doesn't make this easy.”

“Got it,”
Zeke said.

“Wait. The resonance—” Grandfather said, anger seeping into his tone. His hand slapped the wall, and I heard the roar of the water resume in the chamber, a roar that sounded much louder than last time. “You've killed your friends! And yourself.” He raised his hands.

I summoned Grandfather's spirit.

“Fool!” Grandfather shouted. I expected him to easily slap my attempt down. He was my grandfather, the man who'd taught me everything I knew of necromancy, a master with a lifetime of experience over me. And energy already poured from me to sustain Zeke's summoning. But maybe all those years in exile, where even a simple movement was an act of will, had strengthened me more than I realized. Because when he pushed against my will, I held on. I could feel myself rapidly losing ground, but I held on.

More importantly, as long as he fought me, he wouldn't be able to fight Zeke.

Grandfather's resistance evaporated as suddenly as a trap door released beneath my feet.

“Quickly,” Zeke's voice echoed out of Grayson's mouth. “I … can't hold on for long.”

Grayson/Grandfather's hand jerked up as if yanked on a cord and slapped against the wall. Then it jerked away again, and I could tell Zeke was fighting to maintain control.

The door behind me hissed open. But the water didn't stop. A low wave rushed in, washing over Sammy, splashing across my boots. Sammy gave a startled shout and scrambled to her feet. She looked from me to Grandfather uncertainly. Beyond the door, Pete called out, “Finn!” He started to enter the hall.

“Pete, no!” I said. “Help Sammy and Vee. Get everyone out.”

“Finn!” Zeke's voice shouted. “I can't hold this fool much longer! He—!” Zeke screamed, and Grandfather fell to his knees.

I snapped Zeke's baton into full extension and charged. “Zeke!”

Grandfather rose unsteadily to his feet, panting. His hand reached for the wall. “You will regret—”

I struck him across the skull. His head snapped to the side and he fell to the ground. A thin wave lapped against him, but he didn't move.

“Mattie!” I crossed the room and yanked open the closet door. “Mattie, come on, we have to go. Hurry.”

“But—”

“No buts! Just go!”

Mattie ran. I went to the hall and watched. Pete stood just beyond the door, dripping water.

“Get her out of here,” I shouted. “I'm right behind you.”

Pete nodded and helped Mattie into the water. Together they swam out of sight. I returned to the room and shoved Orion off the sofa onto the floor, into the inch of water that now covered the carpet.

“Wha—!” He jerked awake, sputtered, and cried out in pain as his movements aggravated his injuries. I raised the baton, ready to strike.

“Orion, this place is filling with water. You've only got a few minutes to get yourself and your father out, unless you know how to stop the flooding.”

“I'm going to kill you,” he said and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.

“Better men have tried,” I said and nodded toward Grandfather. “Your father, for one. You might want to get moving if you're going to save him.”

Orion's eyes widened as he looked at Grandfather's prone body. He looked down at the water now lapping around his ankles.

He fled down the hallway in a quick, limping gait.

“Great.” Not that I could blame him, I supposed. But that left me to save Grandfather.

I really didn't want to save him. But I couldn't just leave him to drown.

Well, I could, but it would probably haunt me, and I'd relived enough bad memories for a lifetime.

I grabbed him under his arms and dragged him down the hall. The frigid water was up to my knees, which made it harder to walk but easier to drag Grandfather to the catwalk stairs. I took several deep breaths and then descended the stairs backward until I was swimming, holding Grandfather's head above water.

The freezing water sucked away my breath. The weight of Grayson's body dragged at me, made it hard to kick my legs freely. And I couldn't swim in a straight line. The water cascading down made that impossible. I had to swim around the perimeter of the room. I watched the water rising as I went, watched the exit doorway slowly disappear.

Water completely covered the doorway when I finally reached it. I dove, and tried to drag Grandfather with me.

He jerked and began to thrash, making the world a confusion of up, down, or sideways, of darkness, bubbles, concrete, and steel. I hit my head on the door frame, and air burst out of my lungs. I lost my hold on Grandfather and kicked hard, trying to propel myself free of his thrashing. My foot hit something soft and yielding, and I was through the door into water littered with rats and rat parts.

I swam up and managed to suck in a gasping lungful of air before water and something slimy splashed over my face and I nearly choked again. Water enveloped my fingers pressed to the ceiling. There was no more air to breathe. My feet found the wall beside the door, and I pushed off, swam down the hall for the room with the killer diving suits and the exit. I felt nauseated, dizzy, my hands and feet numb, my boots made of lead. I realized as I swam that I couldn't see Heather anywhere in the shifting green of the water, but I didn't have the time or energy to search for her. I fought the urge to cough away my air and pushed it out instead in small bursts, hoping to delay the need to breathe back in as long as possible. Everything began to feel surreal.

The strain on my lungs became an ache, and then agony. The world began to go dark, and I couldn't tell if it was my mind or the lights in the hall that dimmed. I saw the doorway, scrambled at its edges with numb fingers. Spots danced on the edges of my vision.

A memory of lips soft and warm and melting flickered across my mind like a firefly.

I sucked in water.

I drowned.

 

Epilogue

Consciousness slammed into me like a punk rock tyrannosaurus. I coughed out water, and air rushed into my lungs, harsh as sand.

My chest felt bruised, sharp spikes of pain lanced through my sides whenever I moved, and my muscles ached. All of them. But my head ached the worst, both inside and out. It felt abused and not quite right, as though my brain had been featured as the bad girl in a David Lynch movie.

I was alive.

Yay?

I coughed some more and blinked. I lay on the icy floor of the Marine Science Center, with the fake rock wall of an indoor tide pool near my head. Dawn's face came into focus, leaning over me, her tears falling warm on my cheek.

“Finn! Damn you! Don't ever scare me like that again.” She wiped at her face.

More people pressed in around me. Pete, Vee, Sammy, Mort, Mattie, even Father.

But not Zeke.

I cried then for Zeke's sacrifice, and for the love of the people around me as they all made sounds of happiness and concern and thanks—or at least lukewarm relief in the case of Mort.

“Everything's going to be okay, Uncle Finn,” Mattie said.

“How'd I get here?” I rasped. “How long was I out?”

Sammy replied, “You were dead for a minute or so.”

“Dead?” I asked.

Flashes of memory. The desperate gasping of drowning, each attempt to draw in breath only bringing in more water, more darkness.

“Pete dove in and saved you,” Vee said.

Pete blushed. “I just pulled you out. Dawn saved you with a kiss.”

“CPR,” Dawn corrected. “Here, drink up.” Dawn held a metal bottle to my mouth and coaxed something sweet down my throat—our last healing potion. Warmth spread out from my chest, dissolving the worst aches, followed by several unpleasant and sharp pops in my chest and ribs that took my breath away. When I sucked in my next breath, it felt more like a dull burning than blazing agony. Weariness crashed into me anew. I yawned long and hard.

“What about Orion?” I asked when I could speak again. “And Heather, and Grand—Grayson?” For some reason, I just wasn't ready to share the truth about Grandfather. It's almost as though my being framed for murder and then fighting for my life for three days had made me a bit paranoid or something.

“I didn't find nobody but you down there,” Petey said.

“Orion's graciously decided to confess,” Reggie said, appearing between Vee and Sammy. He wiped his hands across his pants. Was that blood covering them? “That should pretty well clear you and Zeke. In fact, Zeke might receive a hero's internment rights for helping to prevent a war. I'm sure we'll need to ask you more questions though, once you've recovered.”