Rise of the Dead Prince (16 page)

“That
… .
was
…
GREAT
!”
said Raven in between blasting bouts of boisterous bawling. And bawling it was, for he was so delighted with himself that he had left mere laughter behind and had escalated to tearful wailing. Meier’s shock turned to anger; and although he found himself incapable of talking at the present time, he was not unable to imagine himself doing terrible, murderous things to Raven. Could he skewer him from where he was? Meier wasn’t
sure.

Meier sighed and tried to focus on what he had started. After all, there was still mortal peril to worry about, even if the stupid bird hadn’t stopped rolling around in a hysterical fit on the ground yet. Meier jumped to his feet and quickly went to work. His dizziness had in no way dissipated, and it was such that the world was still an ongoing series of sliding frames from left to right, at least as far as his eyes were concerned. Despite this handicap, he started hacking in earnest. The bones still had not moved, but Meier believed he needed to continue regard
less.

“
WHY
?”
yelled Raven and continued to roll and thrash, his spindly black feet kicking into the air and then clenching in turn. Meier pointedly ignored the question. “I mean
…
so obvious
…
AHAHA
!
” And then the self-satisfied bird renewed his reprehensible revelry. Meier suddenly felt a bit silly when he got down to the spines of the things. They were all twisted around and broken on each other, just above the hips. So the fall had done it after all, at least in a manner of spea
king.

“Hmph,” he said, sheathing his saber. “Better safe than sorry.” The laughter stopped just long enough for Raven to catch his breath, and
then,

“
AHHHH-HAHAHAHA
!”
There he went again. Meier clenched his fists and turned to look at the disgraceful bird. He shook his
head.

“So this is what you mean by
helping
me, eh? I was told you might feel inclined to make recompense for my hand
…
Is
that
what you’re doing?” Meier asked angrily. Raven was still too tickled to speak. “Well, I’d hate to see what you do to your enemies!” Meier started to walk away from the field in a dizzy stagger. As he walked past Raven, he fought an insanely powerful urge to punt the bird with all his might. The bird was indisposed, after all. How far could he kick Raven? He didn’t
know.

“Not
…
that
…
way,” Raven said, still wracked by the giggles, but not so violently as before. Meier stopped for a second then scoffed and shook his head. He started walking a
gain.

“Another joke, huh? Make me stop so you can tell me I don’t know north from south?
Very
funny,” said Meier scathingly. The laughing finally tapered
off.

“That
would
be a bit funny,” said Raven, “but that’s not why I said it, Prince Meier
…
And
yes
, I am here to help you.” The bird stopped rolling and got to his feet. He spread his magnificent blue-black wings and shook himself off. The sudden seriousness of the impish avian caught Meier’s attention. With arms folded, Meier turned to face the bird f
ully.

“Hold your arm out, Meier,” said Raven. Meier furrowed his
brow.

“Why exactly should I do that?” he responded. Raven could not sigh, but he could make a sort of creaky inhalation noise that relayed the same sentiment. He did this and then dipped his inky head down, almost like a bow of s
orts.

“Because I said
please
,” Raven said finally. This time, it was Meier who laughed, and Raven who was ince
nsed.

“What’s the matter with you, Raven? You most certainly did
not
say
please,
and to be honest, I’m surprised you know the word!” Meier said, loudly but not angrily. Raven ruffled to twice his already notable
size.

“Well
…
I said it just now!” he squawked, clearly perturbed. Meier sighed and shook his
head.

“It’s all right, Raven. I’m no stranger to insufferable arrogance and insurmountable pride. Just to be clear, these are not fine qualities in a person,” he said and then stuck his arm
out.

“Thank you,”
said Raven through slit eyes and with great dramatic sarcasm. He fluttered up and landed on the outstretched arm of Prince Meier. “Now that’s better,” Raven said. “It wouldn’t do for me to look
up
at you, obviously. You see? It wasn’t such a chore, was it?” Meier sm
iled.

“No more than a humble word, I suppose,” he reto
rted.

“I’ll just ignore your insolence for now, since you have so thoroughly amused me over the past hour with your clownish idiocy,” said Raven. “But enough of this!” he continued. “You need to move west now, and I mean right now. There are a hundred of those bony former humans all around, and west is the safest way to go. In fact, they’re headed this way even now. Loud noises get their attention, obviously.” Meier looked around and saw nothing. “Don’t look, fool! Run! If you see them, it’ll be too late. Besides, I saw it all from on high, and I am never wrong! Learn that
now!”

Meier nodded and started to move west, but he could not very well run with Raven attached to his arm. “Toss your arm up and give me a boost so I don’t have to slap you with my wings,” he said. Meier obeyed and then began running in earnest, while Raven circled above. “It’s looking ugly, wizard,” said Raven. “Might have to use a spell or two, assuming you aren’t depleted.” Meier craned his head around and ye
lled.

“What?” Raven sco
ffed.

“What do you mean
what
? A spell, you boob. You know,
poof, pew, boom?
What kind of wizard are you anyway?” Meier laughed nervo
usly.

“I’m not a wizard at all!” Raven scoffed again then lau
ghed.

“That’s just
GREAT
. How am I supposed to keep you alive, er,
animated
, when you don’t even know what you are? So you don’t know any spells, I assume?” Meier shrugged in midst
ride.

“You assume correctly, o wisest of birds!” Raven made a weird sound that escaped transla
tion.

“Your sarcasm is noted, but not appreciated,” Raven said and made the noise again. It might have been cursing. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you
myself
…
assuming you live, er
last,
through this
…
You better run fa
ster!”

23
The World in Gray

M
eier was sick of running. It had been something like an hour before Raven finally swooped down to tell him he could stop. He had avoided the bonewalkers and outrun the
strigoi
, all thanks to the expert aerial reconnoitering of Meier’s winged ally. Now Meier really did feel dead. He collapsed on the side of a small hill with the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Raven landed on the very top of the hill (of course) and stretched his lovely wings out to their widest, casting a shadow on part of Meier’s
head.

“You are the worst prince I ever met,” he said casually. Meier might have said something, but he was too exhausted. Raven started batting his wings in a way that covered and uncovered Meier’s eyes, creating a strobelike flashing that was incredibly irritating. “You’re too meek, and not nearly glorious enough.” Meier just laid there and continued to be meek. “You’re also the worst wizard that I’ve ever even heard about
…
I bet that poor old guy at the castle almost wept when he looked at you.” Meier sort of grimaced but had to smile. It was just so outlandishly insulting that it had become funny. He just had to go on listening. “I mean just look at you
…
” Raven went on, “Panting like an idiot, totally oblivious of you own unique nature.” Meier’s smile got wider, but he hadn’t caught his breath yet. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, you and I,” Raven conti
nued.

The rains had passed as Meier was running, and it had quite suddenly become a lovely day. A cloud passed in front of the sun and cast a long shadow across the verdant pasture. There Meier lay gasping for another minute or so. He had run what felt like five miles without taking a break, and his estimate was not far from wrong. Raven had kept prodding him on with a mixture of warnings and verbal abuse. So far, this castigation had defined their relationship, short though it may have been thus far. This was part of what made Meier smile. Raven was indebted to him, but he was in no way obliged to enjoy himself or even to be civil; therefore, he didn’t. Raven was far too arrogant to try and make the most of it, so instead he just made himself miserable. Meier just thought about how horrible it was for the great Raven to have to spend his time this way; and the more the sullen bird railed against him, the funnier it was to Meier to imagine what a chore it was for the bird to be with him in the first p
lace.

“All right, I can’t take this anymore. You’ve embarrassed yourself long enough,” Raven declared with an authoritative caw. Meier had nearly caught his breath. What was he on about
now?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Meier said and would have continued if he hadn’t been rudely cut
off.

“Of course, you don’t! It’s because you are, in addition to everything else, the most oblivious member of the undead in all Valahia!” Meier finally started laughing. What a silly thing for the bird to
say.

“Oh, I think there are quite a few
strigoi
and skeletons out there that would make you disagree,” Meier said merrily. He then stood up and impersonated one of the
strigoi
, wandering around stiffly with a blank look on his face. Raven flapped hard and made his best throat-clearing s
ound.

“Stop impersonating your betters, Meier. They might just take offense!” Meier laughed even harder at
this.

“How is it that you call me ‘oblivious’ when all the dead
except
for me are totally mindless?” Raven let out an angry
caw.

“Arm!” he yelled, and with a shrug, Meier held out his arm. Raven quickly fluttered up and landed on it. He put his beak close to Meier’s nose. It was rather terrif
ying.

“Are you alive, Meier?” the bird asked at point blank r
ange.

“No, I’m not,” replied M
eier.

It was a simple enough question and a simple enough an
swer.

“Then
why
are you
tired?”
Raven asked at an uncomfortable volume. Meier wi
nced.

“Because I just ran five miles! It’s not easy without wings, you know!” he responded sharply. Raven let out a long clicking
sigh.

“You really are a dunce, Meier
…
but tell me this
please
…
do you need to stop to eat?” asked the
bird.

“No, I don’t,” replied Meier, somewhat perpl
exed.

“What about sleep, eh? Or drink?” asked R
aven.

“No again,” said Meier, still not understan
ding.

“Then why are you breathing, Meier?” Meier shru
gged.

“I don’t know really, but I can’t just stop it, can I?” Raven blinked at him twice, his bright golden iris glinting in the filtered sunlight. Raven was quite a handsome specimen, for all his cantankerous behavior. Meier couldn’t help but admire him, at least in an aesthetic way. This was good, because what followed was a shrill squawk that made Meier flinch and startle so hard that he nearly dropped his instru
ctor.

“Like I said, Meier,” said Raven, calming down. “You are the most oblivious of the undead, because
they
don’t think they’re alive
…
You see,
you could
run nonstop all day and night without rest, in
EXACTLY
the same way as you go without food and sleep, but you don’t because you are oblivious. Keep in mind that I say oblivious instead of stupid, purely out of respect.” Raven bowed slightly. Meier kept on listening, all the while wondering about what Raven said. “You need to accept your deadness, Meier, and you need to embrace your new advant
ages.”

Raven blinked at Meier. “Go ahead and ask, Meier, no need to pussyfoot around your ignorance.” Meier opened his mouth and closed it, deep in thought. Finally, he asked the question he couldn’t get his head ar
ound.

“If I don’t need to breathe or get tired
…
then why am I tired right now?” Raven just no
dded.

“Easy one, Meier. You
are,
simply because you
think
you are, or rather because you think you
should
be. The dead don’t need to breathe, Meier. The only reason for you to do so would be if you needed to say something, which in your case would probably be inane
…
but I digress. Close your eyes and try it out.” Raven waited patiently for Meier to co
mply.

“Why am I closing my eyes again?” Meier asked tim
idly.

“Because I said so! Just now! What an aggravation you are!” Raven barked at him. Meier closed his eyes dutifully. His ears were ringing from the merciless squawks and his face was tightened into a grimace. “Not like that,” said Raven. “You need to be at ease.” At ease? That was much easier to achieve when someone wasn’t screaming in your face. Still, this was something that could help him greatly to achieve his goal, and his goal was to save his whole country. Yes, Meier quickly decided; he would follow every order this vituperative bird gave
him.

Meier’s expression turned peaceful. Carefully clearing his mind, he took a deep breath and let it go. He tried to keep from inhaling, but the urge was too g
reat.

“Don’t force it, Meier. Take the breath, but listen to what I’m saying. You aren’t alive anymore, but then again, you aren’t quite dead either. Don’t be dead, Meier. Don’t be alive either. Just
be
. When you were a baby, newly born, you breathed all on your own, and why? Because it was in your nature to do so. You’ve still got a living mind, Meier. It’s a gift, and a big one. Don’t be alive. Don’t be dead. Just
be.
Let your new nature take hold. Let your breath get smaller and smaller. Then let go of it. Break the rhythm of your c
ycle.”

It took a minute for Meier to fully comply with what his instructor was asking. Slowly his mind went blue, and then there was a stillness, like a stone dropped into a well that finally comes to rest on the bottom. He became the stone, and quite suddenly, he realized that he no longer needed air. It was like a dream of swimming underwater, but even more serene. The whole world seemed to be moving around him violently, whereas he had become the stone, utterly still. Lifeless. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a bleary image of Raven staring at
him.

“Welcome to the undead, Prince Meier,” he said with a curt nod. Meier turned his gaze skyward. The whole world had become swathed in hues of gray. The clear blue sky now looked dismal and overcast. He noted immediately that he could not see nearly as well as he had a minute prior. This much was a disadvan
tage.

However, the second thing he noticed that was nothing short of amazing. His eyes turned back to the horizon, and he saw the fields of green in an entirely new light. There was a dim pulse across the field. It was bathed in tiny sparks of prismatic light, like a rainbow cast across the ground. Then he looked at Raven. It was incredible. He could hear the bird’s heartbeat like a tiny drum. What was more, Raven was shimmering. His breath was almost visible. The realization slowly dawned on him. He was seeing life itself. Meier was seeing life from the outside in. Even the grass and trees seemed to be breathing, slowly in and out. The living things around him were in a constant state of motion; whereas Meier was, for the first time in his existence, completely still. His body felt heavy at first, but gradually, it seemed to become weightless. The sensation was such that it would have been impossible for Meier to fully describe, for he felt then what only the dead can feel. He saw what only they see. He was what only they
were.

“You are now a creature of magic, Meier, for as you must certainly know, the dead cannot rejoin the world of the living without magic,” Raven said. His voice had become almost pleasant. “Remember the path to this state, Meier. It will serve you well. When you are like this, you will not tire, nor will you feel pain in the same incapacitating way. Incidentally
…
you did well to reach this state so quickly
…
Good job
,” said Raven with some difficulty. He followed the compliment with a couple of clicks of his beak. It was not a sound that happy ravens make. Meier heard it all with such sharp clarity that it locked him in a sort of dumbfounded fascination. Returning to the meaning of the words, Meier knew he should thank Raven. After all, such unexpectedly kind words required a resp
onse.

Meier opened his mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a long, “
UUGHURR AAAHH
,” followed by a sort of gurgle. It was the most horrible thing Meier had ever heard, and it had come from himself. Naturally, it was extremely funny to Raven, who cawed loudly a few times before regaining his compo
sure.

“Now might be a good time to take a breath, numbskull!” Raven said merrily. “Remember what I said only a minute ago? You need to
breathe
to speak, unless you want to sound like a
strigoi
, of course.” Meier nodded, his mouth still open. Easy as it should have been, it was not. He needed to draw the air in and out, just like a living person. He had been doing it his whole life without trying. So how did he start back up again? Raven seemed to see the difficulty. “I thought this might happen,” he said. “And I think we can get you back and forth, but to be honest
…
this subject is a little murky, even to we ra
vens.”

Meier felt a panic followed by a wave of extreme anger. His instructor didn’t know what he was doing? It served him right, trusting a stupid bird! “Calm down, calm down,” said Raven. “I didn’t say that I had no plan, you know. Best as I can guess, you only have to concentrate on being alive again. That
should
do it
…
I’m pretty sure.”
Or else what?
Meier wondered furiously. He would just be like this forever, unable to speak, unable to see the colors of the world, eternally trapped in him
self?

Then it hit him. There had to be a way back. He needed to save them all, and if he couldn’t, then who could? He was Meier, the Dead Prince, and he would come back as many times as he needed to until his job was done. It was destiny. He just knew it. Meier tried to remember what it was to be a living human being, and this much was simple. He focused on making his heart beat again. He tried his hardest to imagine it moving. It was no good. He didn’t even know what muscles to flex. He had an idea. With a suddenly violent gesture, he made a fist and slammed it into his cold chest. Nothing happened. This time, it was Raven who was star
tled.

“What are you doing?” he squawked. Naturally, Meier couldn’t answer, but he just sort of looked up blearily and gestured to his chest and then clenched and unclenched his fist a few times. “Ahhh, I see what you mean,” Raven said but shook his black head. “I don’t think that’s going to work, Prince Meier. It’s got to be your will. Your body is as dead as a stale biscuit. You can’t just resuscitate it. You have to find something, some thought, or dare I say
…
feeling that makes your heart beat. Give that a try, and do it quick, because honestly your slack-jawed vacancy is starting to creep me out.”
Creep him out?
Whatever was wrong with Raven, Meier thought, was no little t
hing.

Meier tried again. Something that made him feel alive? There were lots of things, weren’t there? His love for Valahia, his affection for Ian, and even for his ghost family immediately came to mind. He even thought of Crocus, then Callista
…
then
…
bang!
How could he have been so dim? It should have been the first thing that came to mind, but for some repressed reason, it wasn’t. Even when he was alive, there was only a single time he could remember when his heart had beat so furiously that it had nearly come out of his throat. It had been right there in the eyes of a beautiful young stable maid. They had taken a ride together on a lovely green morning. She had ridden behind him and squeezed him tightly. A smile came to his face. She had even
kissed
him! This face, pale and bluish, was not enough to repulse her. His heart was beating like mad when that had happened. Meier closed his eyes even tighter. There was a rope there, somewhere deep inside; and it tossed about in the darkness to and fro, just the end of it, just out of his grasp. Then he made a wild grab. He just had to admit one small thing, one thing that, while small, it meant something so much bigger. He, Meier, was in love with Allie. The rope end fell into his hand, and he pulle
d it.