Thain wasn’t finished with the magic show. He held his fist out toward me, and a shining ostrich feather struck me in the chest. It passed through skin and bone, settling into my heart. Falling to my knees seemed to take forever. I heard each beat as my heart slowed and stopped. I raised my head enough to stare into the eyes of the Anubis mask. All I saw there was shadow.
Something moved in the grass at his feet. A crocodile raised its head, grinning as it waddled toward me. The crocodile was wearing a gold headband, and it had the front claws and chest of a lion. The back half of it looked mostly hippopotamus, stomping along on legs that seemed far too short for such speed. The scary part was that I recognized it. It was the goddess Ammut, the Devourer of Souls.
Which meant the feather was the feather of Ma’at, and it was weighing my heart to see if I was a good person. If I failed, Ammut would consume me. No rebirth, no reincarnation, no Summerland. Sometimes I hate being well educated in all manner of weird shit.
Ammut crossed the street in easy bounds, slowing to a stop in front of me. She snapped at me, but didn’t get any closer. She just shifted from paw to paw, watching, jaw hanging open in a feral grin.
I stared back at her, trying to think of what I needed to say.
I have not committed sin. I have not slain innocents. I have not lain with my neighbor, nor his wife. I have not spoken against the gods. I have not defiled the temple. I have not farted in elevators. I— I have not—
The roaring in my ears drowned out any other thoughts. Dark red blotches filled my vision, blocking out everything but Ammut’s slavering jaws.
Thunder sounded. Again. And twice more. I opened my mouth and drew sweet, sweet air into my lungs. The thunder diminished into regular heartbeats and the red miasma retreated from the edges of my vision. I got to my feet. For a brief moment, an ankh burned over my heart, glowing like molten gold. It vanished, taking Ammut with it. It left me bursting with energy and ready to take on the world.
I glared at Thain and spit on the ground in front of him. “You hit like a bitch.” I summoned Kindness to my hands and charged.
Thain fell back, dodging my first blow. He drew a long bronze dagger and slashed at me. I knocked the dagger from his hand with my return stroke. I took a half-step back and changed to
waki-gamae
stance, holding Kindness behind me and parallel to my right leg.
Thain crossed his arms in front of his heart, fingers extended to frame his jaw line. I didn’t have to understand the words to recognize a spell being cast, so I went with the best counter-spell I know of—swift and blinding violence.
I roared my
kiai
and struck, slashing Thain from shoulder to hip. He stumbled back, ribcage dangling open. Nothing emerged from the wound but dust and a few bugs. His chest had only desiccated organs held in place by crumpled sheets of papyrus. His heart was little more than a lumpy black sponge wrapped in silver chains.
Behind me, one of the cops said, “Holy Mother of God…” He followed his catechism with three rounds from his Glock. All three blew through Thain’s chest and kept on going until they hit a tree.
Thain pushed the pieces of his ribcage back together. The fusing bones cracked and popped like bubble wrap being crushed underfoot. He brushed dust from his hands and looked at the chaos and carnage around us. He turned back to me, grasped the Anubis mask with both hands, and lifted it off his head.
He was bald, skin tight and dry against his skull. His lips had either pulled back or broken away, revealing a general lack of teeth. His nose had decayed away and his eyes were missing. Instead, a nauseating green glow filled his eye sockets.
Thain nodded and asked, “Do you think you can stop me, David?”
I shrugged. “Find out.” I dropped the sword’s point behind me and charged. No upward slash this time, I kept the blade low and cut him across the outside of his leg. He staggered, dropping the mask.
I grabbed his shoulder, driving Kindness through his back and into his heart. The blade stopped as though I’d hit a brick wall. Something threw Kindness backward, slamming the hilt into my sternum. The sword careened off to the left. I hit the ground, holding my chest.
Thain turned around and exhaled a cloud of scorpions. I covered my face and rolled, trying to brush them off with the grass. I crushed some and knocked others loose, but the little bastards were everywhere. My arms, stomach, and back erupted with stings. I howled, flailing my arms in a wild attempt to knock them off me.
One of the cops unloaded his shotgun into Thain’s head. It knocked Thain back, but it didn’t drop him. The gaping wound sealed itself, leaving the cop fumbling for more shotgun shells. All he could say was, “Ohshitohshitohshitohshit…”
Another cop came to my rescue by spraying me with pepper gas. He—mostly—avoided spraying my face, and the gas either killed the scorpions or chased them away. I didn’t care which. The bad news was the gas made the scorpion stings even worse.
Thain stuck with his creepy-insects theme, sending a wave of scarabs gushing from the gaps in his torso. They engulfed the officer with the shotgun and started eating. Thain stood over him holding a red crystal on a silver chain. As the cop screamed and writhed, a red mist flowed up from his body and into the crystal. Thain seemed to be enjoying it.
I staggered to my feet, Kindness in one hand and a convenient tree trunk in the other. I set my feet and brought Kindness down on the red crystal with everything I had.
The impact knocked me backward into the tree. My hands and arms were numb, and refused to respond. I slid down the tree until I was sitting next to it, staring. I wasn’t sure where Kindness had landed, but I couldn’t see her.
The scarabs flowed back up Thain’s legs and crowded back into his chest, leaving behind a tattered remnant of uniform and a skeleton with shreds of flesh sticking to it. Thain twisted the crystal’s chain between his fingers, smirking at me.
“Blades are no better than bullets, fool. The rune Iron-Can’t-Bite protects me. No metal known to mortal man can afflict me.” Thain opened his chest to wrap the crystal’s chain around his heart again.
The cop who pepper-sprayed me snapped his utility knife open. “Try this one, asshole!” He thrust the blade into Thain’s desiccated heart, slicing the chain in half. The crystal shattered, dissolving into a spray of crimson drops.
Thain dropped to his knees. He looked up at the cop, bones cracking and skin dissolving. A dry, raspy chuckle slipped out as he smiled. “Most… unexpected…” He collapsed into a pile of bone and scrap.
I got to my feet and reclaimed Kindness from the grass behind me. “Nice knife. What the Hell is it?”
The cop folded it closed with his thumb. “Ceramic. It’s not metal, so when he said that, I decided to give it a shot.” He put the knife back on his belt and surveyed the area. “What in God’s name is going on here?”
I sheathed Kindness and held my hands out away from my body, keeping them clearly visible. “I don’t know. Whatever he’s up to, I’m not part of it.” I forced myself to take a calming breath. Inhale for a four-count, hold for the same, out-two-three-four. I met the cop’s eyes and said, “You’re safe. It’s all over now.”
The cop’s head twitched twice. He glanced around, looking for the other officers. When he looked back, I met his eyes again.
“You should tell me to clear the park and go home,” I told him. “It’s safer for everyone that way.”
“You’re a witness,” the cop responded. “You’re needed for questioning.”
I smiled at him. “Well done,” I said. “Would you escort me back to my house so I can tell my girlfriend I’m all right?”
“Of course.
Five minutes later I locked the front door and pulled Rose into my arms. “Thank you, dear. I guess I need to practice that spell some more.”
“Yes, you do.” She gave me a long kiss and added, “Still, bagging an undead necromancer is quite an accomplishment, even if he doesn’t stay dead.”
I pulled back from her. “Not stay dead? Can that happen?”
“I’ve heard of it happening. It’s rare, and I doubt he was powerful enough to pull it off.” She smiled and gave me a kiss. “You do need more training, though. We should get you some lessons with a Dwarven War-Priest. They worship the Lady of Death, and killing is their sacrament.”
“Sounds like a real jolly bunch.”
“They are,” she said. “They take joy in every moment and savor each new dawn, for it might be their last. The best way to die, they say, is with a song in your heart, a lover’s kiss on your lips, and your teeth in the throat of your enemy.”
I nodded. “You’re right. I think I’d like people like that. We should have time, since I’m going to be unemployed soon.” I started warming water for a hot cup of chai and ran my hand through my hair while the microwave toiled away. “I’m scared, Rose.”
“Of the dead man? Why?” When she saw my raised eyebrow, she shook her head. “If he had any power at all, he would have brought an army. Instead, he was trying to put one together. Raising an army here would allow him to attack his homeland with overwhelming force and complete surprise. It’s a good plan.”
“Why wouldn’t he just conquer Earth and be done with it?”
“That’s not how anyone narcissistic enough to will themselves not to die thinks. People like that are driven to show everyone how powerful they are. How smart, how clever.” She snorted. “We’ve seen necromancers like him before. They fail because their armies of the dead literally have nothing to live for. Besides, there’s nothing like a zombie horde to convince the living to put their differences aside and fight as one.”
I added sugar and milk to my chai and turned on the late news. “I hope you’re right, and he really is dead. Killing him again might be kind of tricky.”
Rose snuggled up to me and took a sip of her chai. “Everything burns,” she said. “Bring enough fire, and he’ll burn too.”
Ishmael
Monday morning started at my lawyer’s office. I was in for a non-stop series of questions, interrupted by fresh pots of stale coffee, restated questions, and stale questions freshly asked by people who hadn’t been around the first time. My lawyer told me what to say and when to say it. Other than that, I kept my mouth shut and drank the coffee.
After lunch, the FBI showed up and things got a bit more intense. The Sherriff’s department had tried to serve a search warrant on Grover, but he hadn’t answered. They got an entry order and forced the door to his house. They found him upstairs in his bed, where he’d been resting peacefully for at least six months. Someone had obviously been living in the house and pretending to be Grover, but there was no sign of that person now. I did my best to look surprised and horrified.
Grover’s phone records showed the two calls between us last night. I didn’t deny speaking with him. I said I had wanted to know how many people were on the project in total—a figure I already knew—and that he had called back to give me his answer. It wasn’t a lie to say I was having qualms over the number of people who were going to be losing their jobs.
It still got me a stern look from one of the FBI agents, a guy named John Roberts. He asked me to step into a conference room for a private chat. He closed the door behind me and asked, “Are you sure that’s the only reason you called Dr. Page’s phone number? A suspicious person might think it looked like someone tipping off an accomplice. What do you think, David?” He stopped and shook his head. “My apologies, Mr. Fraser. I got ahead of myself. Do you mind if I call you David?”
I shrugged. “David is fine. As for what I think? I think I’d love to know what I have to say to get you to move on to a real suspect.” I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. “This whole thing with Grover has me freaked out. We weren’t friends, but I never had any reason to think someone was impersonating him. I had no idea he was dead until earlier today. What else do you want me to say?”
“You don’t seem too broken up about it. A man is dead, David.”
“A lot of people are dead. Some of them butchered and eaten. Grover caused that behavior with his chemical cocktail. He covered those killings up. He made today necessary. Sorry, but I’m saving my sympathy for the victims.”
Roberts tapped his fingers on the desk. “Let me tell you what I think, David. You were in a car accident a year and a half ago. The hospital recorded your religion as ‘Whovian’. As it happens, I know what that word means. I’m a fan myself. Knitted myself a fourteen-foot scarf to wear to conventions. Hell, I even bought my first car because it was the perfect shade of blue.” He leaned back in his chair. “I think you called Dr. Page to convince him to turn himself in. You wanted to give him a chance to do the right thing. If he didn’t make the right choice, everything that happened afterward would be on him. Now, I’m giving you a chance to tell me the truth.”
“What makes you think I haven’t told the truth? I’ve turned over an ass-load of data backing up my allegations.”
“Call it the whole truth, then. You’ve left some details out of your story.”
I shrugged at him, doing my best to seem nonplussed. “You’ll have to fill me in on the missing bits.”
“All right.” Roberts tapped the table again, pursing his lips. “I saw an interesting piece of video last week. Four women with unusual hair colors, shopping at a thrift store a few miles from your house. They have an altercation with a very short-tempered couple before leaving the store. Fifteen minutes later, the couple dies in a gaming store across the street. Both of the deceased were participating in your drug trial.”
“I recall the news story. It’s one of the reasons I went public. What’s your point?”
“There’s no record of two of the women from the thrift store. One comes up on a California driver’s license from the 1960s. The fourth is your girlfriend, Rose Drake.”
“I said that attack was one of the reasons I decided to go public. Rose and the others were terrified when they got home. After the rest of the story came out, I decided I had to do something. Rose had nothing to do with those two getting killed, but the media will still be all over her if this gets out.”