Necromancing the Stone
Read Necromancing the Stone Online
Authors: Lish McBride
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Humorous Stories, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Fantasy & Magic
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To Fatty. Ha ha—sucker!
Contents
Chapter 1: Welcome to My World
Chapter 2: Come On-a My House, My House, I’m Gonna Give You Candy
Chapter 3: Hello Darkness, My Old Friend
Chapter 4: Our House, Was Our Castle and Our Keep
Chapter 5: Let’s Get Together and Feel All Right
Chapter 6: Every Time It Rains, It Rains Pennies from Heavan
Chapter 9: Another One Bites the Dust
Chapter 11: Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend
Chapter 12: No More Mr. Nice Guy
Chapter 13: Summertime, and the Living Is Easy
Chapter 14: Turn and Face the Strange (Ch-ch-changes)
Chapter 15: Take It Easy, Don’t Let the Sound of Your Own Wheels Make You Crazy
Chapter 17: Hello, Is It Me You’re Looking For?
Chapter 18: Mr. Sandman, Bring Me a Dream
Chapter 19: Our House Is a Very, Very, Very Fine House
Chapter 20: I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet
Chapter 21: I Got Cat Class, and I Got Cat Style
Chapter 22: Get Outta My Dreams, Get into My Car
Chapter 23: San Dimas High School Football Rules
Chapter 26: I Hear You Knockin’, But You Can’t Come In
Chapter 27: Love Is a Battlefield
Chapter 28: Your Turquoise and Silver Won’t Weaken This Old Heart
Chapter 29: Take Me Home Tonight
Chapter 32: I Never Promised You a Rose Garden
1
WELCOME TO MY WORLD
I tasted blood as I went down. I lay there for a moment, crumpled at the base of an old pine tree, and relearned how to breathe. I wondered when I had gotten used to falling on my ass. Or more specifically, being thrown on it. A squirrel flitted onto a tree branch, stopping to throw me a look that said, “Oh, it’s just you again.”
“Everyone’s a critic,” I mumbled.
Sean’s head bobbed into my vision, blocking my view of the squirrel. “You’re talking to yourself,” he said. “Did you hit your head too hard? I’m trying to be gentle, but you humans are so damn fragile.” He scratched his nose. “Amazing that any of you survive, actually.”
“I was talking to a squirrel,” I said.
“Oh, well, that’s okay then.”
Not much fazed Sean. He offered me a hand and pulled me slowly to my feet. His brother Bran came up from behind him and grabbed my chin, checking my pupils, then my ribs, and any other spot he thought I might have injured. I was getting used to this, too.
I’d had to adjust to a lot recently. About a month and a half ago, a man named Douglas Montgomery had walked into Plumpy’s—where I used to be a much-esteemed ninja fry cook—and informed me that I was a necromancer like him. This didn’t mean much at the time, because I didn’t know what a necromancer
was.
I’d had to look it up in a dictionary.
It had been a strange six weeks since then. Douglas had murdered my friend Brooke and delivered her severed head to me as a warning. Apparently he missed the memo that you can send a message pretty easily with a piece of paper and a pen. He’d also threatened, beaten, and kidnapped me. My best friend, Ramon, had come to my rescue, only to get infected in the process by a rare strain of were blood, this particular sample in the flavor of the Ursidae family. He was currently recuperating, and if he was ever released from the private hospital facility he was in, he’d have to adjust to the fact that he could now turn into a damn
bear
. It had been a pretty hectic time, but hey, you know, it’s good to keep busy.
There were upsides to the whole mess. While Douglas was holding me hostage, I’d met a girl—I mean, screw dating websites and house parties; apparently all the really eligible ladies are being held in cages these days. I would have liked to see Brid fill out a dating questionnaire, though. What would she put? “Hi, my name is Bridin Blackthorn. I’m next in line to rule the local werewolf pack. I like long walks on the beach and destroying my enemies. I have four older brothers, so watch your step. We’ll be forming a queue to the left for potential suitors.”
And, trust me, there would be a queue.
Anyway, while hanging out in the aforementioned cage, we’d hit it off, and we’d been dating ever since we escaped with the help of Bridin’s family.
In the struggle surrounding our jailbreak, I’d killed Douglas. Not really sure if that’s a win. I mean, I’m not dead, so yay, but in general I’m not too hip on the whole killing-people-to-survive thing, either. Even if Douglas was trying to sacrifice me and harvest my creepy powers at the time, I feel like killing people for doing awful things is probably setting a bad precedent for dealing with negative behavior. But I wasn’t really thinking of moral implications at the time. When I stabbed Douglas in the throat, I was only thinking that I didn’t want to die. On top of that, it never occurred to me that the spell Douglas had been conducting would backfire and I would steal all
his
creepy powers instead. Like I said, I’d been busy.
Since then, I’d entered into an odd sort of status with the Blackthorn pack. Because of my services (a fancy way of saying “saving a pack member’s life and ridding Seattle of a supernatural menace”), I was under their protection. Sort of. Brannoc, their leader and Brid’s dad, could have left me for dead if he’d felt like it. I’d asked him why he hadn’t. His response had been that I seemed okay, and if they let someone waltz in and kill me, there was no telling who would take my place on the Council, which governed the local supernatural set—another thing I was trying to adjust to. Lots of dominos had toppled after Douglas’s death. One of them was his seat on the Council, since dead men can’t govern. They’d needed a live body to take his place. Guess who’d been nominated? Personally, I thought I was a terrible choice, but no one really asked me. Politics had never been my forte. As a kid, even class clown seemed like too much responsibility.
The funny part was, most of the Council seemed scared of me. Necromancers tended to make people twitchy. I was certainly better than Douglas, though. I’d been on the Council for a few weeks, and I hadn’t killed anyone or masterminded any maniacal plots yet. So they were pretty sure I wasn’t in the same weight class of evil as Douglas. Compared to him, I wouldn’t even register as a featherweight. I’d never been considered evil before I found out I was a necromancer. The reputation would be kind of cool, if it weren’t such a pain in my ass.
Anyway, it was all very pragmatic of Brannoc to let me live, though his reasons weren’t terribly reassuring.
Because Brannoc wanted to
keep
me alive, I was getting self-defense lessons from Brid’s siblings. She has four brothers, though I didn’t meet Sayer and Roarke until a few weeks after my abduction and escape. They were currently off running errands, so Sean and Bran were picking on me today—under the watchful eye of Brannoc, of course. Usually the whole clan of brothers joined in the fun. I believe this was to remind me what would happen if I wasn’t nice to their baby sister. If I ever displeased her, these boys would be the ones shredding my remains.
Because after Brid got done with me, remains were all I would be.
* * *
My self-defense lessons wouldn’t actually help me if I came up against anyone in the pack. Brid and her brothers are hybrids—part werewolf (on their mother’s side) and part fey hound (on their father’s). The rest of the pack was either straight werewolf or fey hound, either of which was enough to take one scrawny necromancer. I glanced over at Brannoc, who was sitting under a tree, keeping an eye on things. Even though he was relaxed, his back against the bark, a piece of grass between his teeth, I knew if I snuck up and jumped him, I wouldn’t land punch number one. I’m only human, and I can’t compete with someone who could easily arm wrestle a bear. Or is a bear. But not every creature I might come up against would have super strength, and I was tired of getting wiped with the floor. I was still getting wiped with the floor now, but at least I was learning. Not fast enough, though. Brannoc had assigned Sean as my bodyguard until further notice. Good to know everyone had faith in my ninja skills.
After a thorough examination of my injuries, Bran declared me alive and told me to get back into the clearing. Sean was doing the sort of warm-up jog I’d seen boxers do before a match. I didn’t think he needed the warm-up. I considered mimicking him, but figured I’d just look stupid. He rolled his neck quickly to each side, a small crack coming from his adjusted vertebrae. I got into position across from him.
He pulled at a chunk of his auburn hair, which made me think of his sister. Of the siblings, Sean resembled Brid the most. He shook his head as if he’d followed my train of thought.
“You got a twig in your hair there, lover boy.”
I shrugged, settling into a crouch. “Just going to get more, I’m sure.”
Sean grinned. “That’s the spirit.” He stopped his warm-ups and mirrored me.
Bran stood in the center, a somber referee. “Sam, this time I’d like you to concentrate on how you fall.”
“I’ve had plenty of practice on that.”
“Apparently not,” Bran said. “You’re still not rolling into it. Learning to fall is every bit as important as learning to fight. A seasoned fighter knows how to take a tumble, lessen the possibility of injury, and turn it to his or her advantage. The way you’re doing it, you’re going to get hurt.”
I was already hurting, so I didn’t feel I could argue with him. Instead I listened as he glossed over the technique again, telling me how to go with the impact.
Good thing, too, since twenty seconds later, I was tumbling back toward the base of that same tree. This time I tried to roll with it. I was so shocked when I rolled back up on my feet that I almost lost any advantage I’d gained. Sean came barreling toward me. I twisted to the side and sprinted along the tree line. Brannoc’s whooping laughter followed me as I ran, but it didn’t sound mocking. Not that I cared if it was. There’s a time for pride and then there’s a time for self-preservation.
The evening sun was slicing through the trees, leaving patches of shadow on the ground. I knew the only reason I’d managed to dodge Sean was because he was moving slowly for me. At his normal speed, I didn’t stand a chance. Running wouldn’t solve anything, but I kept doing it anyway. I was tired of ending up on the ground.
I ran until I got a stitch in my side. It took longer than you might think. I may not be able to fight, but I’ve been skateboarding for a long time, and it’s very aerobic. The first thing you learn is how to run. Cops and security guards don’t appreciate skaters.
Brannoc’s voice filtered through the trees. “Stay along the tree line. You’ll get lost if you cut into the woods.”
“Or eaten by something,” Sean shouted helpfully.
Holding my side, I cut back toward the clearing. I walked slowly and tried to even out my breath. Sean and Bran were waiting patiently for me when I arrived. When I got close, I stopped and sat down, waving my hand in a circular motion to let Brannoc know I was ready for my lecture. Instead, his mouth twitched in what was almost a smile.
