Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Wraith stepped up beside Konrad as the crowd cheered, trying to look like a prince and not Konrad’s servant. Whatever that meant. At the same time, he kept his focus on Konrad and the living, ignoring the dead completely.
He especially did not look at the middle-aged woman dancing naked down the street. She smiled and sang. At least she clearly did not mind being dead.
Wraith looked away from the woman. He needed to focus and act appropriately so Konrad would stop hating him. He reached in and pulled out the bait box, ready to present it. Konrad stood so tall and strong with his head high. He looked like a regal king, even in his simple robes.
Wraith straightened, trying to copy his posture.
“We are so glad to be here with you and be a part of your festivities.” Konrad glanced at Wraith.
Wraith’s brain scrambled as he tried to think of something to say. But Wraith had never addressed a crowd before. His skin crawled at the thought.
Konrad took a deep breath and turned back to the group. “My betrothed and I wish to present you with this special bait along with the blessings of the Monks of the Way of the Dove.”
Wraith lowered his head as Konrad continued talking. His fingers on the wooden box tightened. The couple’s quest was not going well. He kept failing to prove himself.
Konrad took the box from Wraith and presented it to a man wrapped in a fishing net.
“Thank you, Your Majesty and Your Highness,” the man said with a bow.
“We wish you a prosperous haul today and for the year ahead,” Konrad said.
“I … ah … hope you have a good day of fishing,” Wraith rushed out, hoping that speaking might show him to be somewhat up to the task.
But although the man smiled and bowed again, Konrad’s lips thinned. Wraith clearly fell short in his eyes. They departed soon after.
The third village was ten times the size of the other two.
From the air, it wasn’t even clear where the festivities were being held.
The buildings and streets all squished together.
The harbour stretched all around the coast and covered quite a distance.
And it was difficult to see a place to land as people filled the streets, squares, and any space they could potentially land.
In the end, they descended into a field on the outskirts of the village, away from the crowds.
“We will have to ask where the festivities are,” Konrad said after he’d shifted and put on his robe.
They walked towards the village. They passed several townhouses, but all seemed empty. No doubt everyone was at the festivities.
A door opening sounded directly behind Wraith. But he knew that only a vacant street stood behind him. A cold wind stirred despite the heat of the day. It carried the scent of lilies and incense. A fog floated across the cobblestones and to one of the closed doors.
Someone had just died.
Skin prickling, Wraith stopped as Konrad continued on down the street. Wraith hesitated, but then he followed the fog to the closed wooden door. He knocked. After waiting a second, he turned the handle. It was unlocked.
He entered the small room. The smell of mould, damp, and illness filled his nostrils. Thin, frayed curtains blocked out the light, leaving the room in shadows.
An old woman lay on the bed. Her pale eyes remained open as she stared blankly at the ceiling, mouth ajar. The spirit had not yet left the corpse. It remained within.
“Hello.” Wraith came forward. “I’m Wraith.”
The spirit sat up, but the body remained still, lying on the bed. “Oh. Hello,” the woman answered. “I’m Susan.”
Wraith sat beside her. “How are you feeling, Susan?”
“I … I feel strange.” She glanced down at her body. “Oh! Am I dead?” She stared for a few seconds and then blew out a breath. “Well, I knew it was coming.” Then she looked behind Wraith.
Wraith followed her gaze. A door made of carved bones, bound together, stood open behind him. It had followed Wraith as he walked. As a child, he’d named it the Bone Door. Beyond lay a mass of moving smoke and fog.
She pointed. “Am I supposed to go through that door?”
Wraith nodded. “That’s right.” It seemed this spirit was very ready to move on. Some ghosts didn’t see the door or acknowledge it if they did. And sometimes, when a ghost really wasn’t ready, the Bone Door would not appear at all.
But most ghosts would pass through, even with no guidance. “Are you ready to move on?” Wraith asked.
“I have been so very tired and in pain for so very long,” she mused.
Wraith patted her ghostly hand. “There will be no pain or tiredness in the beyond. You will be at rest.”
She stared at the Bone Door. She hesitated. “Will going through the door hurt?”
Wraith shook his head. “It’s just the next step.”
She clutched her translucent hands together.
“Would you like me to go with you? I can take you through the door, so you do not have to go alone,” Wraith said.
For a second she did not speak. Then she nodded. “Yes. I would appreciate that. Thank you.”
Wraith stood and held out his hand. Susan placed her ghostly hand in his.
Unlike most necromancers, he could actually touch dead spirits.
Touching them was not like touching the living.
Their bodies were colder. Less firm and solid.
It was kind of like touching a full wineskin: It was soft and yielding, but at the same time, it did not collapse.
She got up from the bed, gaze on the Bone Door and the beyond. She looked at Wraith. “I have had a good life, you know. I loved this village and the people. And I loved the parties, celebrations, and festivities.”
“There is one happening today, a fishing festival,” he said.
Susan laughed. “I was such a good fisherwoman. I could reel them in back in my day. Every year, I’d show off my haul at the harbour.” She smiled. “Have you gone to the festivities?”
Wraith shook his head. “Not yet. I will head there after I help you pass on. But can you tell me where it is?”
“It’s at the far east harbour.” She pointed.
“Walk straight down this lane in front of my house, and then take a left and just keep going straight. It is always such a glorious day!” Her smile dimmed.
“But I have not participated in years. My bones are too old, and I am so very weary. And those I used to fish with are long gone.”
She looked at their joined hands. “There are so many faces in the town I do not recognise.” She took a deep breath, even though she no longer needed to breathe. “Should I be scared?”
“No.” He squeezed her hand. “There is nothing to fear.”
She stared at the door. Finally she said, “I am ready.”
They walked forward. Beyond the door, all Wraith could see was smoke and fog. But that was because he was still alive. Even for him, the beyond held mysteries. But what he gathered was that the dead all saw something different from one another.
They stepped through the door.
Susan gasped. “Oh. It is beautiful!” She placed a hand to her lips. She released his hand and continued on, the pull of the beyond drawing her onwards.
Wraith stopped walking as the fog and smoke surrounded her.
“Beautiful,” she said once more, and then Wraith could not see her anymore.
She’d been particularly aware for a spirit. But Wraith was used to a lot of variation between ghosts. Perhaps it was because she had been ready in life to pass. He stepped back through the door. It closed and disappeared.
He walked towards the bed, staring down at Susan’s body. It was empty of life. Just a husk now.
“What are you doing?” Konrad bellowed from the doorway.
Wraith startled and spun on the spot.
Konrad stalked forward. He glanced at the corpse and then back at Wraith. “What are you doing?” he repeated through gritted teeth.
Wraith glanced at the thin, motionless form, struggling to form a sentence in the face of Konrad’s rage. “She was dead. I felt it. So I entered.”
“Why?” Konrad took a step forward.
Wraith stepped back.
“What were you going to do? Raise this poor old woman from the dead? Have her scare and attack these villagers, her friends?” He spat the words.
Wraith reeled. “No. Of course not!” Why would Konrad think such a thing? Why would Wraith, or anyone, do something like that?
Konrad glared at him. Clearly, he didn’t believe Wraith. Wraith clasped his hands together, uncertain what to say to make this right. But he did not know what he had done wrong.
Then he remembered. “Susan told me the festivities take place at the east harbour. We just have to walk down that lane and turn left and keep going.” Maybe now Konrad would see that Wraith could contribute and help in this quest in some way.
Konrad’s eyes narrowed. “So what, you hassled the dead to tell us which way to go? We could have just asked a living person on the street!”
“But it was easy to ask Susan,” Wraith said.
Konrad’s nostrils flared. “You should leave the dead to rest in peace!” he shouted. He breathed heavily. “Why can’t you necromancers just leave the dead be?” His hands had balled into fists.
For a second, Wraith thought Konrad might strike him, but then he turned and stalked from the room.
Wraith stood alone by Susan’s bed. He wrapped his arms around his waist, holding himself as tight as he could.