Pael The Necromancer --Chapter 1-- There were five of us – four of us dead people and our master Pael. We all looked roughly like we had when we were alive, which meant I looked the youngest, since I’d been only 17 years old. There was also Korin, who’d been in his thirties, Lira, in her twenties, and the old man, who’d refused to tell us his name – although I’m sure Pael knew it. The youngest of us, in appearance and actual age, was our master Pael, who was 14 years old. Appearances could be deceiving, since he was clearly our leader. That meant, also, that we’d all come back recently. Since our master always went for people who’d been dead a couple of weeks that meant we’d all been alive recently, too. The old man was the newest of us, and since he’d been a monk before he died, he was struggling a lot to cope with all this. I was the next newest, and no longer worried about it much. I wasn’t sure, between Korin and Lira, which one had been brought back first. Anyway, the old guy was walking along at the back, and when I looked over my shoulder at him, I saw that he was looking down, mumbling what I figured must be prayers. Poor guy. He’d refused to talk to us for several days, ever since Pael got him to feed for the first time and the monk had freaked out and yelled that we were all damned but he’d keep himself pure. I really worried about him, and I knew Pael did too. I’d tried to talk to him, but he just kept crossing himself and muttering scripture. I was really worried that he’d starve himself because he thought how we fed was sinful. Korin and Lira walked side by side ahead of the old guy. In my mind, they were almost like one person, even though they were quite different. Lira never spoke about her life, so I wondered if she’d been murdered, like I had. I was considered the village idiot because I couldn’t talk and acted weird – one cool thing about being dead like this was that I’d suddenly become able to speak mind to mind – and everyone had just looked after me until some priest guy had told them I was a changeling sent by the devil and I’d caused the drought they had. To get the rains to come back, they killed me. I suspected Lira’s story might be something similar. Korin, I knew, had not been murdered. He willingly told us that he’d died in a plague. Before the plague came along, his life had been pretty good – he, too, was the village idiot, but he’d been able to talk a bit and do good work on the farm and no one would have called him a changeling. He seemed to be sad about losing his family, and dealt with it by telling us stories about it, although Lira and I kept telling him to stop. Another reason I suspected Lira had been murdered, because she didn’t like being reminded that Korin had been treated well in life. It made my heart hurt because my family had turned against me, and I suspected Lira had been similarly betrayed. Apart from that one area of conflict, however, Lira and Korin got along really well. The reason I often thought of them as a single person was that they were always together, and they had similar opinions in many ways. They acted almost like a married couple. I walked beside Pael. I knew I was his favourite. I suspect a big part of it was that I was the closest to his age. He was clearly our leader, but I could tell he felt awkward about bossing around people so much older than himself. And the weird thing was that once I’d died, I seemed to have become somewhat of a natural leader among the other dead guys. Part of it was probably that I had the best magic – only Pael had more power. Pael said the ones who’d been more noticeably different in life tended to be the most powerful zombies, which made sense, because Korin was the next most powerful. Pael, as our leader, could draw upon our powers, which was a big part of why he had the best magic. “I’m looking for the most powerful ones.” Pael said. “I can sense when someone who will be a powerful zombie dies.” “Yes, Viara.” Pael grinned at me. “This one might even be more powerful than you. I feel a lot of magic from him.” “Anyway, we’d better stop for the day.” Pael added, glancing at the glowing horizon. Zombies needed to rest during the day, or else we would deteriorate much more quickly. And Pael was already looking weak and pale from feeding us on the road. We all lay down in the ditch. Each of us found a comfortable position – Korin and Lira side by side, me and the old guy on either side of them, and Pael sitting at our heads. “No!” The man exclaimed suddenly, sitting up. He was the only one of us who tried to speak verbally, and since he didn’t breath, it basically consisted of mouthing his words. The only reason we could understand him was that he unintentionally highlighted his words with his mind—not actually communicating mind to mind, but making them extra easy to read. “Yes, you are.” Pael said calmly. He could read our minds to varying degrees, depending on how powerful we were. The old guy, being the weakest of us, was completely open. “But I’ll deal with that.” He whispered something with a quick hand gesture, and the old guy became sleepy. That spell could be easily overcome if you weren’t tired, but for a zombie at dawn, after walking all night, it was irresistible. The monk was trying to fight it, I could tell, but he was lying down again, and he kept closing his eyes despite his attempts to keep them open. It wouldn’t be long before he was asleep. “All right.” Pael continued. “Everyone settled?” “Well, stay where you are, then.” Pael started the cloaking spell while he was still sitting up, and then lay down, made himself comfortable, and finished it off. Now, we would be invisible for as long as we stayed completely still, unless someone else stumbled over us or something. Since we were all falling asleep now, it was just fine. The old guy was already sleeping. I waited until Korin and Lira were asleep as well, and then said: “Yeah.” Pael replied softly. Speaking wasn’t enough movement to break the cloaking spell, fortunately. “I’m not sure.” Pael admitted. “My plan was to tempt him into feeding. Those religious types tend to think one slip means you’re damned, so if I can get him to feed, maybe he’ll give up and accept that he’s a zombie. But I don’t think forcing him would work.” “Well, we could try forcing him if tempting him doesn’t work, then.” “He’s the weakest of my zombies. How would he do that?” Pael replied. “I’m more worried about him hurting himself than any of us.” “I thought he’d adjust better than he did.” Pael told me sadly. “And he does have some power. He can heal people.” “He can do it a little. He does it while praying.” Pael was slightly amused. “He thinks it’s a power he gets from God, while my power’s from the Devil. Silly guy. But it’s not nearly enough, he’s still deteriorating. If he rested a lot, he could pray an hour every night and stay about the same.” It was odd, I thought. If I’d met a zombie while I was alive, I’d have been horrified and disgusted by how we deteriorated. But when it’s your own body that’s rotting, it’s not nearly so bad. At least it wasn’t for me, Korin or Lira. The old guy might feel differently. Rotting doesn’t hurt much, either. Just a dull ache in the background. I get more pain from too much noise and movement around me – something that’s always bothered me, even when I was alive – and the way my senses deteriorate as I rot actually helps with that. But that’s the big drawback to rotting, apart from the risk of discovery getting higher. It makes everything more difficult – seeing, hearing, moving, and so on. So it’s inconvenient. --Chapter 2-- The next evening, Pael woke us up by cancelling the cloaking spell. The cloaking spell is designed to give you a jolt – not unpleasant, but attention-grabbing – as soon as it’s broken, so that you know when you’ve been discovered. It’s a handy thing in case something goes wrong. Anyway, we all got up and brushed ourselves off, and continued on. Pael seemed kind of nervous, and he was obviously in a hurry to get there. I didn’t really think about it that much, though, because Korin started in on one of his stories, and Lira and I both started trying to get him to stop. Then we arrived at the edge of the town, and Pael stopped us. “The cemetery is that way.” He told us, pointing down another road, going out of that town at a right angle to the road we came on. “I need someone to get a guy to help me feed the new guy.” Pael and I, with the old guy following behind us, started heading to the cemetery. It was even clearer now that Pael was in a hurry, even though I could tell Pael didn’t want to worry me by showing it outwardly. I’d been getting the impression for quite awhile that there was some kind of time limit on bringing people back. I wasn’t sure if it was a certain amount of time after death, a certain time of night, or what, but whatever limit there was, time was obviously running out. So when the old guy stumbled and fell – his deteriorating legs were a big part of that – I could see the panic in Pael’s eyes. “No!” He cried out. At first I thought he was refusing to get up, but he struggled onto his feet and started stumbling after Pael. “Don’t do it!” He was trying to stop Pael! He jerked himself free from me, almost falling again, and continued after Pael, moving more slowly and carefully. The guy started praying again. Remembering what Pael had said about his praying, I stared at him intently, looking for a sign that he was restoring himself. I noticed that his gait was steadier now, and when he rubbed his eyes, they noticeably regenerated. So he did have a useful power. I thought about commenting on it, but stopped myself. If he started thinking his magic was bad, he’d be in even worse shape. Much as I’d like to taunt a religious person after what I’d suffered from them, I knew I was supposed to be helping him. I looked ahead instead. I could see Pael hauling open the door to the cemetery. He finally got it open and hurried to a certain tombstone, arriving just as the dirt started moving. He waved his hands hurriedly and the new zombie burst out from the ground, leaping straight for him. Pael didn’t flinch or pull back, instead he pulled out a knife and cut his wrist. The zombie grabbed his arm and started sucking frantically. I knew what that was like – the hunger right after coming back was really intense. It was then, while the new zombie was drinking, that I noticed something odd. This guy was really small. I led the old guy through the cemetery entrance and hurried over to get a closer look at the gravestone. Just as the old monk finally saw the new zombie and wailed in dismay, I read the inscription on the tombstone. Divad Joal Petrekus born 3029 died 3037 “About that.” Pael replied faintly. “He was a changeling, like you.” I saw Pael start to stagger, and hurried over to hold him up. “Just very tired.” Pael muttered. “Let go of me now, kid.” He fixed his gaze on the child zombie and pulled his arm away. Divad reached after it longingly, but Pael’s look stopped him. The boy curled up and whimpered. Mind-speaking already? It had taken a couple hours for me to develop that ability. Something was odd about this kid. I was just about to say something when the old monk cried out again. “A child? He’s corrupted a child?” The old guy exclaimed, horrified. “Relax.” Pael ordered me. “Don’t listen to him.” “Changelings flee, rather than be killed. That’s how they reveal themselves.” The monk corrected me in a whisper. “Like a witch floating instead of drowning.” “Quit it, you two.” Pael repeated. Sitting upright, he stared at the old guy, eyes gleaming. Pael’s eyes had something special about them when he was getting insistent, something that made it very difficult to look away from him. Even though he had it focused on the old guy, Divad and I were caught by it as well. He glared at the old guy a bit, and then looked away himself, breaking it. The old guy immediately cowered and started praying some more. “They are.” Pael confirmed. “Look over there.” I looked where he pointed and saw Korin with a person slung over his shoulders, as Lira helped hold the guy steady. I got up, helping Divad to his feet. Korin tossed the unconscious guy down at Divad’s feet. The boy hurried over to the guy. “Watch him.” Pael told me, handing me the knife he’d just cut himself with. “Don’t let him take too much.” I went over and cut the guy’s wrist, then guided Divad to drink. I monitored the guy as Divad drank, and pulled him off at the first sign of weakening. Pael was beside the guy right away, and doing a hand gesture. The guy’s cut healed. Glancing at Pael, I saw that his cut was healed as well. “You two carry him back to town.” Pael told Korin and Lira, as he got unsteadily to his feet. “Put him where someone will find him. We’re heading out.” I helped Divad up as Korin and Lira hefted up the guy and headed off. The old guy was in their way, but he backed away when Lira glowered at him. Then I went to steady Pael, seeing that he was still somewhat dizzy. Divad followed me and took Pael’s hand.
Copyright © 2010 Ettina Satot |