Rise of the Dead Prince (26 page)

“
BEGONE
!” Meier commanded the irritating image. The thing continued smiling, but now it tilted its head affectionately. It was even worse than be
fore.

“Therefore, if your bowstring is pulled down, there is only direction it can go when all strength fails,”
said the image. The thing reached out to touch him, but Meier shied away. He tried to get up and found that he coul
dn’t.

“
GET AWAY FROM ME
!” he yelled. The image laughed lightly and then grasped the front of his quilted t
unic.

“Up we go!”
the specter declared to his darker self. His voice and appearance began to blend. They rocketed upward like the arrow from the analogy. As they flew, they blurred into one. “The dark,” he said softly, “is no place
…
for one such a
s
we.”

Meier sat up like a bolt. The world was in color. He squinted in the bright light of the sun. His head was swimming. It had all been like a nightmare. Somehow he didn’t feel horrible. In fact, he felt pretty good. Then he remembered what had happened to Raven. He ran to where the bird lay. He had thawed, but he was still sprawled out in a feathery pile. Had Raven been conscious, he would have found it most unbecoming. But was he truly unconscious or was it worse? Meier picked up the bird and folded his wings, cradling him like a wee babe. He had lost quite a few feathers. Switching to the gray state, Meier saw the red pulse. Good, he was alive. In fact, he seemed remarkably fine given what Meier had done to him. He seemed to be just sleeping. Returning to the world of color, he rocked the black bird slightly to rouse him and confirm that he was truly all r
ight.

“Hmmmm,” moaned Raven. Slowly, his golden-rimmed eyes opened and looked around dazedly. They seemed to grow in size when they passed over Meier. The bird’s voice cracked a couple of times, as though he were coughing. “Meier?” he asked softly. He looked around again. “So
that’s
what happens,” he said vaguely. “Looks remarkably the same t
o me.”

Meier wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He just furrowed his brow and continued looking at Raven. Had he suffered a head in
jury?

“Are you all right, Raven?” asked Meier gently. Raven took a br
eath.

“Probably not,” he said, still dis
tant.

“I’m
…
very sorry for freezing you and throwing you into a tree,” said Meier frankly. Raven regained his composure by deg
rees.

“Why am I sky side down?” he asked. Meier chuc
kled.

“Probably because you’re on your back,” he replied. Raven looked all ar
ound.

“Why are you so close then?” he asked. Meier laughed a
gain.

“I’m holding you.” Raven suddenly convulsed. “
GAAH
!” he squawked loudly and rolled out of Meier’s grasp. He fell to the ground with a soft thud. Meier laughed in ear
nest.

“What did I
tell
you about
touching?”
exclaimed the bird, face in the gr
ound.

“Well, I thought you might be dead,” Meier said, smi
ling.

“
Still
…
you promised, remember?” Raven asked, regaining his foo
ting.

“Oh yeah. Sorry about that. I’ll make sure you’re dead next time,” said Meier, nodding. Raven shook his head from side to side, and then it hit
him.

“Meier! How? Why? What did you
DO
? You came back from the depths!” he cawed loudly, “Arm! I want to hear this!” Meier complied with a
grin.

“Where to start? Well, I think I have it figured. I can’t explain it, but I think being in the path of the source has helped me remember something I didn’t even know,” Meier expla
ined.

“And what, pray tell, is that?” asked Raven impatiently. Meier sighed then looked as though he was about to speak, but shrugged instead. Raven ruffled up in frustra
tion.

“I think it’s better if I
show
you, Raven,” replied Meier at last. Raven was not quite satisfied but went along anyway. Meier walked over to where the fallen bonewalkers surrounded the corpses of Dor and Trent. Meier paused. “I almost did an abhorrent, irreversible thing here. Thanks for stopping me,” he
said.

“I stopped you?” asked R
aven.

“Well
…
sort of,” Meier admitted, “but that’s beside the point. Observe.” Meier began to stoop to the place he had been when he nearly cast the darkest brand of spell. Raven took his cue and fluttered to the ground, a safe distance away. “The deeper one goes, the more they lose the best parts of themselves. This much you know, but there is more. You once told me that an evil person takes to dark magic faster. That’s just because it feels right. They go down, and they stay there because they feel it is where they belong. It’s also true that the dark is in contrast to nature, and therefore, it is inherently evil, if there is such a thing. You taught me that also.” Raven tilted his
head.

“What are you trying to say? What you just said was a bunch of nonsense, Meier. You’d be a terrible teacher, and that’s the raven’s truth,” he said tiredly. He was still
sore.

“I told you I couldn’t explain
…
at least not well. So just watch,” Meier said finally. Raven was si
lent.

Meier took a few seconds to visualize what he wanted. He dipped into the gray state, and then with all his might, he pulled himself down the shaft made by the light. He went all the down to the sickly pool but only stayed there for a second. His descent was nearly instantaneous. He held on tight and came back just as fast. What Raven saw was enough to make him shudder. Meier’s eyes went from normal to dead black in a second and then back again as fast. Meier let out a powerful yell, and in a gesture that caused the winds to swirl, he slapped a hand on the chest of each dead man. He raised his gaze skyward and looked at the canopy. With another yell, the leaves were swirling around so violently that Raven thought it better to move, if he could manag
e it.

“Dor! Trent!” yelled Meier above the din of his own casting. He just hoped that it worked. He was no master of the dead. He just knew how they operated now. Meier’s eyes began to glow brightly. Raven’s eyes grew wide, for Meier was not in the gray s
tate!

“It shouldn’t be possible!” he exclaimed to himself. He had absolutely no idea what to expect. What he was witnessing was incredible. It was vital that he pay close attention. Many things depended on it. Meier yelled again, and the winds became a tempest, throwing the remains of the armored dead in all directions. Raven flew to an even higher branch. The sigils blew away in the
gale.

Meier focused all he had, and he tapped into the source. The magic of the source was not evil. It couldn’t be! It thrived on life, and it shared this life as it moved. Meier concentrated on pure magic. It was unfiltered, raw. It helped the users of magic to achieve their will. It was not perfect, nor was any person perfect. He felt the source surging inside him. Then he thought of what Raven had told him. Save their minds! They must not be
strigoi
! He tried his best to give the magic what it wanted, just as it tried to understand what he wanted. Together they danced, each unable to fully understand the other. Meier finally thought of himself. What made him unique? When he finally had it, he pushed as hard as he could. After all, this was the deepest of the dark magic. It required force. Meier cried out a final time and then fell backward onto his back. The winds
died.

Raven waited for a while and then finally came down from his high perch. Meier lay there panting on the ground, looking blankly up at the canopy. The sun had passed the hole created by Meier, leaving only a golden glow that surrounded and engulfed them all. Raven hopped over to Meier. He looked at the fallen men. They did not budge. If the spell was to work, it would have required far less energy, and it would have worked almost at
once.

“Meier,” said Raven, “exactly what did you do?” His voice was somewhat exasperated. All flash and no fire. Still, it had been a strange and amazing series of events, even if it hadn’t worked. Meier smiled, still on his back and out of br
eath.

“I think I did like you said, but I’m not really sure to be honest,” he admitted. Raven looked again at the farmer and the hunter. They were still clearly
dead.

“Meier, I’m afraid you tried to do something too strange. These things happen through a process of experimentation,” Raven explained. “So what did you
try
exactly?” Perhaps there was a lesson to be learned. Meier sat up and looked at the dead men a
gain.

“Oh that,” he said casually. “I just asked them if they wanted to come back like you said. And I told them who I was.” Raven tilted his
head.

“You’re saying you
talked
to them before they were even raised?” he asked incredulously. Raven began to believe there was something very wrong with Meier’s head after going so
deep.

“Yeah, I think I did,” Meier said at last. He was still out of breath. Raven shook his head. The kid had expended a huge amount of energy for something that had both depleted him and done not
hing.

“Oh, you did, eh? What did they say, Meier?” Raven asked sarcastically. Meier sat up and looked at the two men again. He sm
iled.

“They’re in,” he said plainly. Scooting forward, he placed his hand on each chest again. Raven watched on skeptically. Meier’s eyes flickered purple once then twice, and then he sat there with a silly little grin on his face. Raven was about to speak but then found himself utterly incapable. The hunter stirred and sat up! Then the farmer followed! The two men looked around groggily. Meier had just risen them with a literal flicker! Raven nearly fell over. Something was odd though, something that was clearly out of place. It hit him.
These men had beating he
arts!

“Hey there, Meier,” said Dor, his wound healing over with thick layer of scar tissue. Meier waved tiredly but sm
iled.

“Howdy,” said Trent and extended his hand. Meier shook it and no
dded.

“Hi there, Trent, Dor,” he replied to each. Dor and Trent had been more than risen. They were
exactly
like Meier. Raven fell
over.

35
Riddles of the Risen

T
rent and Dor spent some time adjusting to their new existence. They walked around, looked at their hands, looked up at the sky through the hole Meier had made, and looked at the pale versions of each other. It was not quite what they expected, but they had already known from Meier that there was no way to truly describe the change. Dusk had come, and it would be time to camp soon. Raven had not said a word since it happened. He sat on a branch in dumbfounded silence, still processing what he had seen. The risen dead should never have behaved this way. It was against all that the ravens knew. Raven had assumed that Meier had risen them in the way he had, based solely on the unique circumstances of his own death, coupled with his possession of magic. After all, stranger things had happened. Or had they? This was different. There was no
spell
for this that the ravens knew of, and their knowledge was extensive to the point of being easily considered
complete.
Raven paid close attention. His findings must not go to waste. Meier had become something that Raven did not understand. Still, Raven knew that he must continue to teach the young prince, and in turn, he would learn what he could about this heretofore impossible series of events. There were many variables at
play.

“I feel right peculiar,” said Dor, holding his pale hand before his face. Meier snorted a l
augh.

“I understand completely. You get used to it after a while,” he said consoli
ngly.

“I reckon so,” he replied. He touched the huge cut on his shoulder. The bleeding had stopped, of course, but the odd thing was that he had full range of motion in his arm. Meier showed them his left hand, and they nodded in immediate understan
ding.

Meanwhile, Trent was swinging his sword with a little difficulty. This was odd to Meier, since he hadn’t personally noticed any change in coordination during his ch
ange.

“I don’t reckon I got the hang of this here undeath yet,” said the big man, his brow furr
owed.

“How so?” asked Meier, somewhat confused. Had the magic not done what he thought it w
ould?

“Well
…
this here sword don’t act right
…
look here,” said Trent. He then twirled the thing over each hand, made a couple of slashes in the air, then stumbled for
ward.

“Maybe you ain’t got your legs yet, brother,” replied Dor. “I can’t get right either.” Dor picked up his bow, found one of the scattered arrows, and tried to draw the bow. He nearly fell backward. Meier furrowed his brow, putting his bony hand to his chin. Something was w
rong.

“I think I might have messed up somewhere, guys,” admitted Meier, “and if I did, I don’t know that I can fix it.” Trent laughed, and Dor followed. They each wore big sm
iles.

“Meier, don’t you worry,” said Trent. “It’s just that this here sword don’t weigh a thing. I keep pushing and pulling my weight like I needed to before, but it just keeps flying like a little old stick in my hand. Peculiar.” Dor lau
ghed.

“Same for me, Meier. I drew on that bowstring, and bout near snapped the whole thing. I wasn’t near that strong before. Whatever you done, I reckon I’m glad you did.” Raven nearly fell off his branch. Meier had risen them each as an
anathema
after all, just like the sigils had shown before they blew
away!

The anathemas were used as elite captains among the undead. Making an anathema required the darkest stuff there was, and it required a hundred times more of it than it would for a whole pack of
strigoi
. Problem was these two looked nowhere near as horrific. The process perverted the form into an abomination, hideous and fearsome. In fact, these two didn’t look any different at all besides their pa
llor.

“Oh
that
,” responded Meier with a snap. “I remember vaguely now. Before I brought you two back, I was about to make a real mess of things. I fell down a black hole of magic for a moment and lost my head. I almost made you two monsters. When I came back, I suppose I somehow left the good and cut the bad, so to speak. This was after I talked to you about it, of course.” Dor and Trent no
dded.

“Good enough for me,” said Trent. “Just remind me not to pat you on the back.” They all laughed. Dor walked a couple of steps forward and rubbed the place on his shoulder where the cut had
been.

“Hey, Meier,” he
said.

“Yes?” he rep
lied.

“Excuse my bad manners for askin’, but what
happened
to your hand there?” Dor asked somewhat sheepi
shly.

“Oh this?” Meier said, holding up his left hand again. “I woke up from being killed, and some raven was picking it clean. I never felt a thing until I woke up.” Raven shifted around on his branch. He was right there, after all.
Some raven,
indeed! “In fact,” said Meier, “he’s sitting right up there, being quiet for the first time in his life. Couldn’t say why. He’s normally very noisy.” Meier smiled up at Raven, who was making devil eyes at him. Trent slapped his knee. Dor followed
suit.

“Mean to say he liked the taste of you so much that he followed you the whole way?” replied Dor. “Reckon I’ll fix that right now,” he said, drawing an arrow. “Who wants a gamey crow for supper?” Raven couldn’t take it. He fell off the branch in sheer indignation. Meier went to stop
Dor.

“No! He’s on our side!” said Meier loudly. Dor stopped and looked at the two other men. Trent looked just as confused. “He’s my magic teacher. It’s a long story,” said Meier. It was about that time that Raven expl
oded.

He cawed so loud that the men covered their ears as he fluttered to the ground. “Some raven? Quiet for the first time in his life?
GAMEY
?
CROW
?
SUPPER
?
” Meier laughed loudly, and the other men foll
owed.

“Sorry about that, Raven,” said Meier, still smiling. “I just couldn’t resist. It was funny until Dor almost shot you, although since he didn’t, I suppose that’s a bit funny too.” Raven just glared at all of them. He was so furious that he was at a loss for words. He was petrified with rage. If looks could kill, the three men would have died all over again. He puffed into a big angry ball of feat
hers.

“He looks powerfully angry,” said Dor, nodding to the other
men.

“I reckon so,” answered T
rent.

“Oh, he is,” replied Meier. “I guess I ought to explain,” said Meier with a wide gesture. “You see, after he ate my arm, he found out that I possess magic. He then felt like he owed me one, and so he found me when I was heading south of Targov, and we’ve been together ever since. He’s taught me a lot of things. I probably wouldn’t have gotten so far without him. Come to think of it, we wouldn’t have gotten so far without you two either. So there it is. Raven is my guide and my teacher, and he’s the most knowledgeable creature I’ve ever met. Ravens know practically everything there is to know. It’s quite handy.” Dor and Trent nodded. Raven finally found his v
oice.

“Yes, Meier.
Handy
indeed! Get it? I ate your
hand!
So I’m
handy,
am I? Try invaluable! You are so lucky that it makes me sick! Had I not eaten your ‘gamey’ arm meat, I would not be in this accursed position. And as for
them,
had I known they were a couple of uncouth, ignorant hicks, I would never have called them
heroes!”
All of this was squawked furiously. Dor and Trent just shrugged at each other. The bird was making a lot of terrible sounds. Meier raised his hand a
gain.

“Oh, and one more thing. Best that we watch what we say. Raven is very proud. They all are, from what I hear,” he explained. Dor no
dded.

“More like uppity from where I stand,” he said without ma
lice.

“I reckon he sounds more
imperiou
s than proud,” added Trent. Dor and Meier looked at Trent, clearly surprised. Trent just shrugged. “My Ma taught me lots of words. I remembered some,” he said humbly. Raven cawed lo
udly.

“Uppity? Imperious? They’re ones to talk! It’s both uppity
and
imperious to talk to a superior being that way! It’s
incongruous!
Look that one up, eh? And
…
as for calling me
…
a
crow
…
that was the most iniquitously villainous thing that I have ever endured in my long life. I may eventually be
magnanimous
enough to exculpate you, owing to your
deplorable
benightedness
,
but I would not, as you say, hold my breath. Crows
…
how to put this so that these cretinous reprobates would understand.
…
Crows are the shamefully miniature, mentally disabled products of brother-sister marriages in the Corvidae family. Tell them
that,
Meier! Exactly! I’m sure they’ll understand the comment the part about being inbred. They’ll probably even relate. Get it?
Relate?
” Raven concluded. He just hoped Meier would do his rant justice. After all, he knew Trent and Dor couldn’t understand
him.

Meier sighed and turned to the hunter and farmer who were both looking at him, as though expecting him to speak. “Well, it’s like this. He’s still very angry about the
crow
comment,” Meier said eventually. Dor looked at Trent a
gain.

“Well, if it makes any difference now, tell him I’m sorry. I didn’t expect him to take it so hard,” said Dor. “But for my part, I take offense to the insinuation that I was inbred.” Raven’s eyes grew
wide.

“Dor understands me? But how?” he asked incredulously. It couldn’t be. He had no m
agic.

“As for myself,” said Trent, “I started to tune out a bit there when he called himself ‘superior.’ I also felt he had no call to talk so ill of his own cousins, the crows. As for us being ‘cretinous reprobates,’ I reckon that’s just the anger talking. Being that angry leads to ‘incongruous’ behavior, leastways in my experience. In other words, I take no offense for myself. I’m plenty willing to ‘exculpate’ that angry talk.” Raven fell on his tail feathers. What had happened? Meier just lau
ghed.

“You two understood all that? How about that? I guess that means you both have magic in your blood!” He pulled them in close, a hand on each shoulder. “You two are wizards just like me!” Raven got on his
feet.

“It has to be a result of the ley line burst, Meier. Nothing else seems to fit. If it’s true, it means it’s the first time it has happened in hundreds and hundreds of years
…
,” he said, trailing off. Too many impossible things had happened in a very short period of time. The source was something the ravens knew about, but it seemed to him that the closer observation of events was painfully lacking. There were many perversions of the so-called rules the nearer one
got.

“I reckon not, Meier,” said Trent. Dor nodded in as
sent.

“But you hit the nail on the head, Raven,” he said, pointing to the black
bird.

“What do you mean?” asked Meier. Raven tilted his head at the hu
nter.

“We ain’t supposed to be talkin’ and breathin’. Reason we are is because of that crazy light, I figure.” Trent nodded thoughtf
ully.

“I reckon we ain’t wizards, Meier, but I do think we got some of what you got. You sure put it all into us. You gave us all you could give. All you had. You did it like we was kin to you. I don’t know how I know. I just do. And I’m much obliged to you for what you done,” said the big man with an extremely light pat on Meier’s back. Raven hopped t
wice.

“Just what were you thinking of when you raised them, Meier?” he asked with a look of keen interest. Meier thought for a w
hile.

“Well, it’s all
…
hazy, but I’ll do what I can. It’s hard for me to explain plainly. When I was making all that wind, I was calling to the source. I was thinking about talking to Dor and Trent. I called their names. It eventually worked. We had a brief chat, about a minute or so, I guess. After they said they would help, I told them I would bring them back as best I could. I knew I had to deliver on my promise. It meant a lot to me, so I tried my best.” Raven looked on expectantly. Dor rested his arm on the end of his bow. Trent rested his on the hilt of his sword. They were all politely listening. Meier wen
t on.

“I dug deep
…
deep as it goes, into the darkest place there is. I knew I could, because I’d done it before, and I knew I could come back, because I’d done that too. How should I put this? Best way I can think of is to say that
…
I figured it out. The dark, that is. It’s inside of me, but I don’t have to be inside it. I don’t know if that makes sense though. You were right about one thing, Raven. If I want something from the dark, I have to just take it. So I took it. Then it wanted something back, as it
always
will, and it offered more than I needed, as a lure. It offered anything and everything, just like it had before. All I had to do was stay. So
…
I just smiled and
left
. I was only there a second, and that’s because instead of taking the slow way down, I took the way down that I had taken to go up after I lost myself in the power. The way was made already so I didn’t have to try too hard.” Meier took a breath and looked around. Everyone knew he was going to continue, so he
did.

“Anyway, when I jumped down in the deep
…
I
…
felt like there wasn’t enough there, so I just thought about the source, and then everything overflowed. I took a little from the spring, and I took a lot from the source. It was boiling hot, but I managed to carry it up without dropping it. It was a good thing the way up was so fast, because it hurt like crazy. When I looked at them, I knew I needed to be perfectly clear on what I was trying to do. I had the crazy idea of talking to the source. Oddly enough, it seemed to halfway understand. We settled one thing. It was the easiest thing I could think of. I thought of
me.
I knew what that felt like, so when the source came out of my hands, it must have thought that I wanted them to be like me. I told it that was all right, and then I felt completely spent. The source and I parted ways. You know the rest. Once it was done, I just knew it had worked. While they were sleeping and not quite dead anymore, I just had to put a little touch on their chests to wake them. Is that enough for you?” Raven hopped again then put his head down. He was thin
king.