Boneyard (The Thaumaturge Series Book 2) (5 page)

“Leo, I really doubt—”

“Just try it. Let's just see.”

I growled. “I feel like you're not telling me something.”

“You always feel like that. Come on.”

He turned, slogging through the snow, and I made a noise, a little sound intended to call him back, but the wind rose up and the words were lost.

Chapter 4

After the brief respite of gloriously fresh cold mountain air, the inside of the house was like an olfactory brain-rape. I held my arm over my nose while we made our way through the maze of garbage.

Dana stood where we had left her, huddling in her sweatshirt with her gloved hands tucked under her armpits. When she looked up at us, I saw that she shivered, even under her heavy sweatshirt.

“Do you want to wait in the car?” I blurted out. “Turn the heater on and warm up?”

She looked startled. “No. No, I want to be here. I need to be here if he—” she cut herself off, biting into her lip.

“I'm not promising anything,” I said. “He's been gone a long time. I don't know if I can bring him back.”

She nodded. “No, I understand. I appreciate that you're going to try.”

“How did you get Ebron's number?” Leo asked her, sidling up next to her and getting all up in her space again. I waited for her to step back and looked annoyed at his close-talking, but she gave a little sigh, relaxing a little when he slid an arm around her back. Some sort of vampire wizardry, no doubt.

I listened hard for her reply as I cleared a little space on the side table and set the bag there. If nothing else, the herbs would improve the smell.

“His number's listed on his store's Facebook page.”

“Oh,” Leo said.

“I don't have a landline,” I said over my shoulder, but they both just watched as I took out a few bags of rosemary and mugwort.

“How did you know to call him?” I heard Leo ask quietly.

She snorted quietly. “Actually, my dad told me about him.”

My hand froze over the corpse's chest. The herbs in my fingers scattered on his worn wool sweater.

“Yeah?” Leo sounded only vaguely curious.

“He went to the herb shop a few times. And people talk, you know.”

“Yeah,” Leo said shortly. “Ebron, you need help?”

“No,” I said. I looked down at the dead man's face, trying to put life into his sunken and twisted bones, trying to make out a face from the sagging skin. I didn't recognize him.

“I, um. I need you to be quiet,” I looked over my shoulder at them. Dana’s red-rimmed eyes went wide.

“I just need to concentrate,” I told her soothingly.

“How do you do it?” she whispered. “Do you have to... touch him?”

“No, I just—” I shrugged. “I can't explain it. And it probably won't work, okay? I'm just saying.”

She nodded, glancing up at Leo, her shoulder resting in the hollow of his. His eyes fixed on me. He quirked one eyebrow when I met his gaze.

“I don't know how long it will take,” I told him.

He nodded. “I'll be here.”

Then there was really nothing else to do but try to deal with the corpse, as distasteful as it was. The herbs I'd sprinkled on him did exactly jack shit to help with the smell. I had no room to get comfortable, crowded up against the arm of the chair, a stack of phone books walling me in from behind. I wished at least for some place to sit. I could have perched side saddle on the end table, but it looked about as sturdy as an Olsen twin, so in the end I just hovered awkwardly over the curled up bundle of skin and bones. I wished I didn't have such an attentive audience. I really had to pee. My mouth tasted about as bad as the room smelled and I thought that it was a shame there weren't more people like me. We could have organized for better working conditions. I could have been the Norma Rae of the Resurrectionists Union. Rise up, indeed, comrades.

“What was his name?” I looked up at Dana. She stared back at me with a deeply troubled frown.

She started. “Carl. Carl Fogerty.”

“Okay.” I curled my hands over the arm of the chair, hunching over him a little, and closed my eyes.

I had to admit that Leo seemed to be right. After Morgan—the witch whose body I’d recently helped steal—had killed my cousin, I’d struggled to resurrect him. To be fair, I had just engaged in a dual with a second murderous witch and I had healed two others of their coven. They’d helped me out, giving me a little power infusion that did seem to help me float up faster. But then again, I had never had any trouble ascending.

I rose up steadily, like bubbles in champagne, entering that beautiful blissed out space that paid no mind to offending odors or freezing cold or whiskey shivers. Here I just floated under the blue black sky, dotted with distant stars. My body felt light, weightless. I glided along as relaxed and as smooth as light on the surface of a lake. I rose up through the spheres, gathering light to me, easy and calm and gentle. No need to rush, no need to hurry.

Shimmering pinpoints of light collected upon my astral body, covering my arms and legs with fuzzy white and gold. It tingled, making my skin shiver into goose bumps, the hairs on my neck standing on end. I exhaled long breaths and with each new inhale I felt strength coming into me. Refreshing, like drinking cold water after running a mile in the sun. Bright, like the first bursting taste of a summer strawberry. And relief, like gasping for air when you thought you would drown.

The light gathered upon me seemed to tremble, the finest vibrations as though it were alive. The lights glowed against my skin, becoming so bright that I had to close my eyes. Even my eyelids burned white.

A feeling of tenderness, of deep affection, enveloped me. Such a sense of safety, of comfort, like I’d come home. I wanted to float away on that feeling. I wanted to tuck myself into that loving light and just stay there. It would be easy to do. I wanted to.

But. Miles to go. I opened my physical eyes for a second and from a very great distance I watched Leo and Dana watching me through fuzzy and overexposed vision. Vaguely I knew my head hung down and that I stared at them from under my eyebrows like some sort of demon bull, but I just closed my eyes again and concentrated on bringing all the light I could manage down to Carl Fogerty's wrecked and wasted body.

I spread my hands out over his chest, feeling cold lifeless flesh beneath my fingers. From here, I felt no horror at the touch, only abstract concern. Light traveled from my hands to cover him, moving down my arm in a steady flow until to my astral eyes he glowed in a luminous white cocoon. The light drained from my limbs and I felt a cramping flash of pain in my head as the last twinkle jumped from my fingers.

Nothing happened for a long moment. I drew my eyebrows together, using my astral fingers to press the light into Carl's body, to slather it over him like butter on bread. I needed it to soak into him, to infuse every cell and molecule. I watched the wiggling lights burrow into him, making him shine from the inside, filling him with life. Long seconds ticked by. My heart pounded, hammering against my chest. Sweat trickled uncomfortably down my face, down my sides and the small of my back. Pain flared in my jaw and I had to consciously make myself unclench my teeth.

A strained noise escaped from my chest, but I braced myself, pouring as much as I could into Carl. My vision went cloudy again, the distantly ringing bells loud in my ear. I had the sudden understanding that someone stood behind me, right the fuck behind me, reaching for me, and I started to turn but right then Carl's mouth creaked open and he expelled into my face breath so foul that it almost knocked me backwards.

Dana made a yelping noise, and I heard Leo calming her, his voice soothing and low. Carl's skinny chest lifted as he sucked in a ragged breath, and as I watched his skin rippled and loosened, his clawed hands flexed. His sunken eyes began to flutter and then blink, revealing milky irises that darted sharply around the room. His spindly limbs jerked and then thumped back into the piss-stained recliner. He opened his mouth and croaked.

“Oh my God! Dad!” Grappling noises came from behind me, the squeak of shoes on linoleum. Clearly I heard Leo say, “he’s not done”, his voice high with concern.

I relaxed my elbows, letting my head hang down. The pain in my head shot down my temple and into my neck, sharp and cold. My poor abused guts rolled with renewed nausea. Fixing the body was the easy part.

I took a breath and then let myself go up again, climbing to a slightly higher plane. Less light shone here and everything felt thin and fragile, but I knew instinctively that the soul I looked for would have moved past the lower planes. Maybe I wouldn't be able to find it at all. I barely understood how all of it worked: could a body survive without the soul?  Or maybe the restored body would act as a beacon, calling the wayward soul home.

But as I drifted through the vast and open darkness, I felt nothing, not so much as a whisper. I didn't know what happened to the souls after they moved on from this place—whatever this place was. I just had always assumed that the souls ascended through the layers into some final destination that I hadn't ever tried to reach. Maybe I could though. Maybe I could try to go farther. Maybe I could do this and Dana's dad would be all right, and they would start getting along, and next Halloween Carl would make it to Missoula to see his grandkids dressed up like Superman or a Disney princess or whatever. Maybe if that happened, if I could see Dana smiling in relief, then maybe I would start sleeping again and stop thinking about how hot blood felt when it splattered fresh on your skin.

I concentrated, letting my awareness of the physical world fall away. All my energy centered on rising a little higher, opening myself like a rare flower to let every bit of light flood into me.

The lights diminished, slowly reducing in numbers until only a few little pinpricks remained in the endless black. I couldn't see past my own hands, could feel nothing but hazy nothingness. The overwhelming sense of peace and affection I had soaked up earlier faded now to a mild calm. Like there was nothing to fear but there was no joy either. I felt nothing. The doldrums of the soul. Was it even possible to follow a soul this high? Maybe at this point, whatever it was that had once been Carl had been swallowed up into this void, become one with the Force or something.

The numbness persisted. Vaguely, gradually, I realized that I was no longer aware of my limbs, of my body. I couldn't see myself in the increasing darkness, couldn’t tell if I was holding my hands up before my eyes. My mind insisted that I was, but I could neither see nor feel my own body. I panicked, all at once. One second I was floating along, empty and emotionless, and then next my mind revolted with pure animal instinct.

I let out a cry, loud and harsh, and the sensation of it dropped me back into my body with enough force that I cried out again.

“Don't worry,” I heard Leo say, his voice steady again, but low and disembodied because my eyes still only saw black. “He's a bit of a screamer.”

I struggled. Somehow I was firmly in my body, aware and feeling and aching, but I was still way too far up, my eyes seeing only the darkness. Immobility seized me; I could neither descend nor stay in place. Whatever made up my astral self tensed, clenched, and began to tremble. I thought that I groaned out loud, that I fell, but my awareness of my physical body blinked out then like a light switch, and all I could feel was energy coursing through. It filled my being with heat and vibration, like being electrocuted, like I could feel my very molecules quaking and tearing apart.
Down! Down!
I screamed, trying to force myself to fall down back to the familiar lower spheres. The darkness wasn't inviting anymore. All the warmth had gone. Now it felt crushing, like being under water, in cold murky dark and there was no air,
no air
—

Pressure built in my ears, behind my eyes. My chest tightened, squeezing until I gasped. I trembled, just my hands at first but then I shook so hard my teeth rattled together. My lungs burned, the back of my throat ached, I couldn't breathe, I was being crushed. Pain exploded right in my nose, blooming out into my face and I screamed and screamed and then... I fell.

I dropped down out the higher planes, falling gracelessly and quick, watching the darkness fade to a blur of lights. I crashed down into my body and promptly fell over, though I didn't have far to fall because I found with no real surprise that I was already on all fours, my head hanging down as I gasped for breath. I sprawled forward, my face dragging over the dirty, stained linoleum. I lay there panting, every inch of me hurting.

“I can't,” I panted weakly. “I can't.”

I heard distinctly feminine crying of the horrified and frightened variety. Then Leo's hands fell on me, darting down under my arms to haul me back up to my knees and get my face off the filthy floor.

“Easy, easy,” he murmured, settling me back to rest on my heels. I almost pitched forward again, but caught myself with one outstretched hand. I risked a look up at Carl Fogerty's corpse and
oh, Christ
—

 Nothing prepared me for the sight of the withered corpse, squirming and moaning in the ratty recliner. His—its—head lolled back, its eyes rolling, its mouth a soft gaping pit. Leo followed my gaze and he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing sharply in his throat.

I looked away, Dana’s horrified cries ratcheting up to a steady, low moan. Leo pressed one hand between my shoulders and rubbed circles. “You okay?” he whispered. “Jesus Christ, Ebron, are you...
fuck
.”

“What happened?” I croaked. Wincing, I raised my hand to tenderly poke at my throat. It felt like I had gargled glass.

“You were convulsing,” he whispered back. “Your whole body. You fell over, you were screaming, you were, like, clawing at your throat. Oh, my God, Ebron. I’ve never seen you like that.”

“I'm sorry,” I told him and he just shook his head.

“No, I am,” he said lowly. “I shouldn't have pushed you. Fuck, Ebron. You fucking scared me.”

The corpse in the chair gave another gurgling groan, its arm flailing uselessly against the armrest. Dana cried out when the corpse thrashed. She clasped both hands over her mouth, her shoulders shuddering.