Dirt #4
I ran faster as Catherine climbed into the driver’s seat, trying to get to the car before she could drive away.
I was close enough to see through the windshield as Catherine let out a yelp and clapped a hand to her face.
She yelped again and jerked from side to side with the familiar motion of someone being attacked by bees.
Or a pixie with a metal cocktail sword.
I stopped ten feet away from Catherine as she half fell out of the car, trying to get away from Peasblossom, and planted my feet on the frozen ground.
My magic roared through me as I sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs with red, glittering energy I could see in my mind’s eye.
When I couldn’t hold any more air, I opened my mouth and let out a scream.
The force of the sound made my throat raw as it surged out of my chest toward Catherine in an eardrum-splitting shriek. Catherine gasped and fell against the car, clutching her head in her hands as she slid to the ground.
“Peasblossom, get the pouch!” I rasped.
Catherine didn’t hear me, her ears no doubt still ringing with the effect of the sonic spell. Her eyes didn’t even focus as Peasblossom went to work freeing the pouch from her belt using the sharpened edge of her sword.
I kept an eye on the stunned witch as Peasblossom dropped the pouch into my hand and landed on my shoulder.
“Be careful with that,” she warned, rubbing her hands together. “There’s something about that pouch that makes my wings itch.”
I switched my grip on the bag to hold it by the strings. “We’ll have Poppy look at it. She seemed to recognize it, so she should know what it is.”
Saying the necromancer’s name out loud made me look around. “Poppy said the church is less than a block from here. She’ll have to take the zombie there to lay it to rest. Fly ahead and make sure she’s okay? I’ll follow along with our friend here.”
Peasblossom tapped her foot on my shoulder. “Do you need help finding the rope?”
I scowled. “I’ll find it.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Judgy pixie tone aside, it did take me a minute to find the rope in my waist pouch.
Fortunately, Catherine still hadn’t managed to stand up, though a few metallic thuds warned me each time she tried and ended up falling against the car and sliding back to the ground.
Rope in hand, I put the snack pack of pretzels, Ziploc bag of fireplace ash, and handful of cotton balls back into the pouch, zipped it, and moved to tie up Catherine.
“What’s in the pouch?” I asked as I bound her hands behind her back.
“Nothing,” Catherine mumbled, shaking her head. “Nothing in the pouch.”
I pulled her to her feet and jerked her in the direction we’d come from.
“Careful!” Catherine snapped, stumbling as I pulled her after me. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, my head. What the hell did you do to me?”
“You’ll be fine soon, but the headache lingers. It’s significantly better than you deserve.”
Catherine glared at me. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you nearly got a young man killed just because he helped karma along a few steps. And you drained the life force out of two young women who were foolish enough to think it was worth it to get revenge.”
“Their life force will return,” Catherine insisted. “It heals.”
“A truth that might as well be a lie.” I tugged on her bound hands, making her stumble again.
“Did you warn them about the ennui? The depression, the loss of interest in things that used to matter? Did you warn them about the risk of drug use? Of suicide? All the things a person can do when their life force is depleted and they can’t feel life the way they used to? ”
Catherine sneered. “If they can’t handle a few rough weeks, then it’s just culling the herd.”
I pulled her toward a tree root sticking out of the ground, letting her trip over it. She tumbled forward and hit her knees, hard.
“Let me go,” Catherine snarled.
“Attempted murder will be the first charge the Vanguard lays against you,” I said coldly. “And if I have anything to say about it, that will be the first charge of many. No one likes an evil necromancer.”
“The zombie wouldn’t have killed the boy,” Catherine muttered, wincing as if the sound of her own voice made her headache worse. “I just wanted to scare him and get it recorded for my clients.”
“If that were true, you’d have sent them what you had,” I said grimly.
“The fact that you didn’t send it means either you weren’t recording the scared part—because you were waiting for something worse—or you did record the scared part but didn’t send it because they were expecting a murder.
Not to mention, you left without laying the zombie back.
It could have killed any number of people, wandering around free like that. ”
The corner of Catherine’s mouth twitched. “Well, you have to admit, if one gives up part of their life force for revenge, they want something that will last. Something…traumatic.”
“You—”
I stopped talking, almost tripping over my own feet as the little voice in my head that had been too quiet for me to hear before was suddenly mind-numbingly loud.
“I’m on temporary hiatus pending my testimony at a trial.”
“I caught one of my cohorts siphoning life force from people and using it to raise the dead.”
“There’s a theory that if you use someone else’s life force instead of your own, you’ll live longer.”
“I could raise a zombie for you. But I’m not sure you’d want me to.”
“What if you didn’t approve of the way I did it?”
“What if you reported me to the authorities? Tattled to the Vanguard?”
“It’s a trap for Poppy,” I whispered.
Catherine smiled.
Panic sent a surge of adrenaline through my system, and I hurled Catherine onto the ground near a gnarled old tree. She managed to catch herself before she hit her head, but I was already calling my magic, my mouth filling with energy that thickened to a glue-like consistency.
Catherine opened her mouth to say something, but I didn’t give her the chance.
I spit on her.
The magic left my mouth and grew thicker and larger as it flew at Catherine, fat strings of gooey dark blue slime that struck her and pinned her to the tree and the ground in a net of tacky, stretchy bonds.
Catherine hissed and tried to free herself, but I didn’t stay to watch.
The spell would hold, and the more she struggled, the more trapped she would become.
“Peasblossom!” I called out.
“Over here!”
I followed the pixie’s voice, running as fast as I could. I wasn’t a young witch, nor was I a particularly physically fit witch, so when I finally got to the graveyard where Poppy was standing, I was out of breath, my chest hurt, and I had a stitch in my side.
“Trap,” I gasped.
Poppy blinked in bewilderment, looking around as if trying to figure out who was chasing me. “What trap?”
“For you.” I waved a hand around. “Whole thing is a trap.”
“Shade, it’s okay,” Poppy said, her voice soothing. “Everything is fine. The zombie is in the ground, and there’s no one else here.” She paused. “Where’s Catherine?”
I shook my head. “Tied up. She’s not the problem. This whole thing was about getting revenge on you.”
“Shade, what are you talking about?”
Suddenly Poppy frowned. She closed her eyes and put a hand on her chest.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice rising.
“It’s fine, I just…I feel a little strange.” She tried to smile as she opened her eyes. “Probably just need some sugar. It’s been an hour since I had any candy, and that’s a long time for me.”
“Everything is a joke to you, isn’t it?” came a male voice.
I whirled around to see Alex standing by one of the graves. He’d taken off the sunglasses, and there was something about the way he stood there, his feet shoulder width apart, his arms slightly out from his sides, that made him seem on the brink of action.
“Alex?” Poppy asked. “What’s going on?”
“His name isn’t Alex,” I said slowly.
Poppy’s gaze flicked from Alex to me and back. “It’s not? Then what is it?”
“The necromancer you’re testifying against,” I said, not taking my eyes off the young man. “What’s his name?”
“Reginald Drayton.” Poppy’s eyes widened. “Reggie? Is that you?”
“Do you feel any shame at all using a familiar name with me after what you did?” Reggie clenched his teeth and took a step closer. “You’re going to cost me everything.”
“You shaved your beard and mustache. Cut your hair. And the bandages…Oh, it is you.” Poppy took a step toward him, but stopped, wincing as she pressed her hand harder against her chest. “I didn’t know you were in college.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, I made that name up!
And I’m not the real ‘Scales,’ ” Reggie said, his mouth curling with disgust. “I just heard those two half-wits Gabrielle and Lauren complaining in a bar. I got some drunk frat boy to get their numbers, then I called them pretending to be Scales. Just to get them mad enough to do something as stupid as trading some of their life force for revenge. I made up the name Alex Walker for you.”
“You’re already in trouble,” Poppy said sadly. “Why would you make it worse by stealing even more life force?”
“It’s worth it if it means making you pay for what you did to me. What you’re costing me.”
“We have to look out for each other, Reggie. You know that. When we slip, we need to hold each other accountable. There’s a reason necromancers have such a horrible reputation, and that’s never going to change if we give in.
” She took a deep breath but still didn’t stand straight.
“You gave in to temptation. You made someone else pay the price for your magic.”
“Life force can be recovered,” Reggie shouted. “They would have been fine. They are fine! Why should I die young because I was gifted with power over the grave?”