The Necromancer's Nephew Page 5

Garrett smiled at his zombie. "Let's go show Uncle what you can do!"

  Chapter Seven

  "Happy birthday, Garrett!" Warren said. The ghoul held out a bundle of stained gravecloth. He had been waiting for Garrett at their regular meeting place, a junction in the tunnels beneath the old library.

  "Thanks," Garrett said, stopping to take the gift. He passed his witchfire torch to the ghoul to free up his hands. "Did Uncle tell you it was my birthday?"

  "Yeah," Warren said, "I brought the body to the house myself. Your uncle had my dad looking for a good deader all last week. Thought we were gonna have to dig one up at the last minute, but dad came through with a fresh one just in time."

  Garrett finally managed to work loose the rough knots holding the bundle together, and the package spilled open. Inside lay what looked like a polished black stone a little larger than a finger. It was oblong, broken at one end, and tapered to a point. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he looked at it.

  "What is it?" Garrett asked.

  "A tooth," Warren said, "Dragon tooth, I think. At least it came out of a dragon slayer, so it stands to reason..."

  "A dragon slayer?"

  "Yeah, Sir Somethingerother, I don't remember," Warren said, "He had a narvy sword too, but my cousin got that."

  Garrett touched the tooth with his fingertip. Even through his glove, he could feel its chill. The skin on the back of his neck tingled, and his face flushed, painfully warm. He quickly wrapped the tooth up again and put it in his pocket. Warren passed the torch back to him.

  "Thanks, Warren," he said, "I wish I could have gone to the catacombs with you."

  "Yeah, it was pretty fun... well, it would have been more fun without Norris."

  "Your cousin?"

  "Yeah, he's always goin' on about the old ways and how they do things down south. If dad wasn't watchin', I'da kicked him in the down south."

  "Oh, did you see anything else?"

  "Yeah, lots o' stuff," Warren said, "Tell me how the rezzing went."

  "Pretty good, I think," Garrett said.

  "So the zombie didn't go crazy and try to kill you or anything?"

  "No."

  "Oh," Warren sounded a little disappointed, "well where is he? Didn't you bring him?"

  "No," Garrett said, "Uncle had to take Caleb to the temple to get him registered."

  "Caleb?"

  "Yeah," Garrett said, "that's what I named him."

  "Caleb?" Warren wrinkled his snout. "Why not name him something really vile, like Deathreaver or Bonegrinder?"

  "I dunno," Garrett said, "I just liked Caleb."

  Warren shook his head. "Well, what do you want to do today?"

  "Can we go to the catacombs?"

  "You mean the both of us sneak down there by ourselves without my dad knowing?"

  "Yeah," Garrett said slowly.

  "Hah! I enjoy living too much! Not a chance," Warren said.

  "It's not that dangerous, is it?"

  "Yes, it is," Warren said, "but that's not what I'm afraid of. My dad would kill me dead if I went down there without permission."

  "Oh," Garrett sighed, "you wanna go explore the Old City?"

  "Sure," Warren said, turning toward the mouth of a downward-sloping tunnel.

  "I need to stop by the market first though," Garrett said.

  "What for?" Warren groaned.

  "It'll only take a minute."

  "You're going to see that vampire girl, aren't you?"

  "Hey!" Garrett said, "Marla gave me a really nice present, and I just wanted to say thanks."

  "Really?" Warren cocked his ears to a sarcastic angle, "What'd she get you?"

  Garrett hesitated, his voice low, "A fairy."

  "A what?"

  "A fairy," Garrett repeated, louder this time.

  Warren burst into laughter, clutching his sides as he leaned against the tunnel wall. "Well," he managed to say at last, "we'd better go and thank her then!"

  Garrett grumbled as the two of them headed up the tunnel toward the market. After a moment, he spoke again, "When is your birthday, Warren?"

  "Oh," Warren said, "ghouls don't celebrate birthdays, only deathdays."

  "Well how do you know when your deathday is?"

  "You don't."

  ****

  Garrett emerged from one of the many underground entrances hidden among the city's back alleys. He slipped through the narrow gap between the corners of the Dervish alehouse and the silk merchant's stall and stepped into the gray light of mid-morning.

  He made his way through the jostling crowds to the narrow lane of curious little magic shops. The shutters were drawn shut in the window of Mrs. Veranu's pet store. Nevertheless, Garrett knew, as the sign on the door assured him, they were open for business.

  The doorbells jingled as Garrett let himself in. He was careful to shut the door quickly, letting in as little light as possible.

  "Hello?" he called out as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the shop.

  "Garrett?" Mrs. Veranu's voice answered, "We're in the back. Please join us."

  Garrett glanced around at the many tiny creatures locked in their cages on shelves or hooks. Fairy wings fluttered and tiny frilled chameleons flared their ruffs at him. He let himself through the gate and stepped behind the counter. He jumped when a bright red lizard in a silver cage hissed suddenly. He gave it a nasty look and hurried through the rune-marked curtain into the back room.

  Marla and her mother were kneeling on the floor, pinning a squirming furry creature down with their hands and knees.

  Marla greeted him, smiling, a wisp of her dark hair fallen across one eye. Her gray coveralls were rolled down to her waist, revealing a white linen undershirt that left her arms and shoulders bare. Garrett's heart leapt in his chest and he could only grin mutely in response.

  Mrs. Veranu smiled up at him as well, but so taken was he by her daughter's beauty, he did not at first realize that Mrs. Veranu wasn't wearing her scarf. Mrs. Veranu's eyes were sparkling and mischievous as ever, but Garrett drew back at the sight of her fanged teeth, bared in a wide grin.

  "Oh... hi, Mrs. Veranu," he stammered, hoping to cover his embarrassment. If she had noticed his reaction, she gave no sign.

  "Give us a hand here Garrett," she said, thinning her smile to an almost human appearance.

  "Sure," he said, "What do you want me to do?"

  "You see the collar on the table there?" she asked.

  "Yeah."

  "Bring it here and lock it around the neck of this trilbette while Marla and I hold him down."

  Garrett had no idea what a trilbette was. Judging from the look of it, it was a beast the size of a large dog, covered in brown fur, and possessing a long, wet proboscis. It didn't look too dangerous, but, if it took two vampires to hold it down, it had to be strong.

  Garrett picked up the collar from the table. The thick silver band looked heavier than it proved to be. Its surface gleamed with intricate filigree and interlocking circular runes. The trilbette's eyes went wide at the sight of it.

  "Bring the collar, please, Garrett," Mrs. Veranu said. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and Garrett could see the muscles of her forearms tense and strain to hold the thrashing creature to the floor. "Quickly, if you will."

  Garrett hastened to her side and cautiously stepped over the struggling trilbette, straddling it. He knelt and slipped the open ends of the interlocking collar over the creature's throat.

  "No, please!" a small, squeaky voice called out. The creature looked up at him, its wide golden eyes filled with panic.

  Garrett froze. The trilbette could talk.

  "Now, Garrett!" Mrs. Veranu shouted.

  Garrett gasped, stung into action. The collar snapped closed around the trilbette's neck. It slumped motionless on the floor.

  Garrett stumbled away from the creature, feeling a little sick.

  "Thanks, Garrett," Marla said, placing a cool hand on his shoulder.

  "I... uh, happy to
help," he said.

  "Well done, Garrett," Mrs. Veranu sighed, rising to her feet. She looked down at the collared trilbette. "Back in your crate," she commanded.

  The trilbette rose, its eyes half-lidded, and plodded slowly toward a large wooden crate with a splintered side. The creature's long nails skritched on the hardwood floor as it walked.

  "What is that thing?" Garrett asked.

  "A trilbette," Marla answered as though that explained everything. Garrett watched as she dusted herself off and buttoned up her coveralls.

  "I mean what's it for?"

  "Nothing much really." Marla shrugged. "A customer wanted one for a pet and placed an order with us."

  "So it'll be all right then?" Garrett asked, "They're not gonna hurt it or anything?"

  Marla turned and regarded him for a moment, a little smile on her lips. "He'll be all right, Garrett."

  "Oh... good," he said.

  "Now, Garrett," Mrs. Veranu said, "how can we help you?"

  "Oh," he said, "I wanted to say thanks for the fairy."

  Mrs. Veranu nodded. "A Carrowyn Songfae," she said, "Marla picked that one out for you."

  "Thanks, Marla," Garrett said, "She's really amazing."

  Marla smiled, looking a little embarrassed.

  "I see you're a member of the club now." Marla's mother grinned.

  "Huh? Oh this?" Garrett lifted his fingers to the golden amulet on his chest. "Yeah, I'm Uncle's apprentice now... officially."

  "You couldn't ask for a better teacher," Mrs. Veranu said, her eyes looking far away.

  "Um, yeah, he's great."

  "Well," Mrs. Veranu said as she slapped the dust from her knees, "I'd better write Ambassador Chaille a note to let him know his trilbette has arrived."

  Mrs. Veranu swept from the room with the speed and grace peculiar to the vampire race. A moment of silence hung in the air between Garrett and Marla. He smiled, and she smiled back, her eyes drifting in search of a suitable topic of conversation.

  Garrett cleared his throat. "I... thanks again for the fairy," he said.

  "Yeah," Marla said, "Everything all right with it? I mean, do you have any questions? About the fairy... or anything?"

  Garrett chewed his lip, considering the wording of his question. "What if... say I wanted to let the fairy out of the cage for a bit, you know, to let her fly around the room?"

  Marla shook her head. "You'd never be able to catch it again."

  "Oh, yeah... I was just wondering about what if I ever did want to let her out." Garrett shuffled his foot to study his boot heel with some intensity, not daring to look her in the eyes.

  "Oh..." Marla said, "I understand. It's very sweet of you to want to set it free, but Garrett, it's only a fairy."

  "Yeah," Garrett said, "so there's no way then?"

  Marla put her hand on his shoulder. "Garrett," she said, "every animal in this shop has been wyrdbound. They can never be free again."

  "Word bound?"

  "Wyrdbonding is a sort of magic..." Marla's lips tightened, and she took on that schoolmistress look she favored when trying to explain something that seemed completely obvious only to her.

  "You see," she said, "these are all Fae creatures. They were sung into being by the great dragons long ago. The wyrd made them, and the wyrd can command them."

  "So you speak Draconic?" Garrett asked.

  Marla's eyes flicked toward the curtain door, and her voice lowered. "I speak a little."

  Garrett lowered his voice as well. "So you know the words to control magic creatures?"

  Marla's nose wrinkled the way it did when she tried to simplify a complex answer. At last she just shrugged and nodded.

  "So..." Garrett said, "if you can bind them with a word, couldn't you set them free with a word?"

  A shuffling noise from the front of the shop made Marla jump. She shook her head and leaned close to Garrett. "I'm not supposed to talk about this," she whispered.

  "I'm sorry," Garrett whispered back. He was having a little trouble concentrating on anything other than the flowery scent of her dark hair.

  Marla stepped back and turned to arrange a few colored glass bottles on a workbench.

  "Well," Garrett said, raising his voice, "I guess... I should go. Warren's waiting for me..."

  "Warren the ghoul?" Marla asked, her face brightening.

  "Yeah," Garrett said, "we're going down to explore the Old City today."

  "You're going underneath the city?" she asked.

  "Yeah," he said, and then, with a sudden flash of boldness, "you wanna come?"

  Marla's eyes sparkled. "I'll have to ask..."

  "Go ahead, Marla," her mother's voice called from the other room, "have a good time."

  Chapter Eight

  Marla drew the hood of her cloak down and stepped into the gray light of day. Garrett passed her a worried look.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

  "I just thought that the sunlight..."

  "Oh," she said, "it's fairly diffuse here, and, in any case, I'm still young enough to resist most of the adverse effects of daylight. It's worse for mother, of course."

  "Oh... good," he said as they stepped into the gloom of the alley between shops.

  "What did you think would happen?" she asked.

  "I dunno," he admitted. He tented his fingers together and then pulled them rapidly apart, making an explosive noise with his mouth.

  Marla laughed. "And you still invited me out into the daylight?"

  "Sorry," he said, "I guess I didn't think about that."

  "I'm glad you asked me to come," she said, "Is this it?"

  They stood before the great iron-bound door that led to the tunnels. Garrett reached up to pull hard at the rusty, twisted handle making the ancient hinges screech in protest.

  "Let me help." Marla grasped the edge of the door with one hand and pulled. Garrett staggered back as the door swung open effortlessly.

  "Thanks!"

  The dank smell of the tunnels washed over them as they stepped through the portal. Garrett's witchfire torch flared to life, bathing them with its pale green glow. He descended the winding stone steps with Marla following close behind.

  When he reached the foot of the stairs, Garrett saw Warren stretched motionless on the tunnel floor.

  "Warren!" Garrett shouted.

  "Leave me alone," the ghoul answered, without opening his eyes, "I'm dead! I died of boredom waiting for you to get back."

  "Sorry," Garrett said, "Mrs. Veranu needed some help."

  "Yeah, right," Warren groaned, "Couldn't have anything to do with that... oh, hi," Warren had just looked over and noticed Marla standing beside his friend. He rolled quickly into a crouch and flashed his wolfish grin.

  "Hello," Marla said with a wary smile.

  "I... uh, asked Marla if she wanted to come with us," Garrett said.

  "I hope it's all right," Marla said, "I've never seen the Old City."

  "...Yeah," Warren said, giving Garrett an angry squint, "That's fine."

  "Good," Garrett said, "Let's get going then."

  Marla did not move but made a little noise in her throat. She looked at Garrett expectantly.

  "What?" he asked.

  "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" Marla asked.

  "Oh... Marla, this is Warren. He's a ghoul."

  "I welcome your presence," Marla said, crossing her hands over her chest and bowing slightly.

  "Warren," Garrett said, "this is Marla."

  "Yeah, nice to meet you... Wait a minute," Warren said, turning on Garrett, "How come you introduce me as the ghoul, but you just call her by her name?"

  "I dunno," Garrett said, "I just didn't want her to be scared of you."

  Marla stifled a giggle.

  "What?" Warren growled, "You think ghouls are scary and vampires aren't?"

  Garrett shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't really think about it like that."

  "You
wouldn't want the pretty little vampire girl to be scared of the big, ugly ghoul!"

  "I didn't..." Garrett said.

  "So, how do you know that I'm a vampire?" Marla interrupted.

  "Pssh!" Warren scoffed, "For one thing, Garrett won't stop talking about you."

  Marla's white cheeks went suddenly pink.

  "And anyway," Warren continued, "you smell funny."

  "Warren!" Garrett hissed.

  "No! Not bad funny!" Warren said, "Just kinda... lizardy."

  Garrett glared at him.

  "Well, you smell nice enough," Warren assured Marla, "just not like something I'd want to eat when you're dead."

  Marla arched one eyebrow. "Thank you," she said, "I wouldn't want to eat you either."

  Warren look simultaneously reassured and offended.

  "Can we go now?" Garrett asked.

  "Yeah," Warren said, his eyes still on the vampire, "I wanna see if we can find that collapsed passageway again. We can do some digging."

  The three of them followed the brickwork tunnel as it sloped down. Water dripped from the occasional ceiling grate through which shafts of gray sunlight pierced the perpetual darkness. Soon, even these few reminders of the surface world disappeared, and the eternal, silent gloom of the underground closed around them.

  Garrett felt Marla draw closer behind him as they walked. Without thinking, he reached back, and she took his hand. Garrett's heart fluttered, and, for a moment he wished that he had been brave enough not to wear his gloves today.

  He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze and smiled back at her over his shoulder. Marla smiled as well.

  "Junction left," Warren called out as he reached a Y intersection in the tunnel. The leftmost branch sloped steeply down and echoed with the sound of a steady rivulet of dirty water emptying into the shaft.

  The shaggy ghoul braced his long arms against the walls of the narrow tunnel and began his descent. Garrett and Marla followed, leaning on one another for support.

  The light of the witchfire torch glistened on the damp gray tile fixed in spiral patterns across the tunnel wall. As they descended further beneath the city, the tiles presently gave way to smooth, seamless white stone. The thin layer of mortar that held the tiles to the wall had crumbled away from the polished rock.

  A broad pool of dark water marked the leveling point of the tunnel's slope. Warren's big hind paws sent waves sloshing up the curved walls. Garrett's boots splashed with every step. Marla had released his hand and waited at the edge of the pool until the two boys had reached the other side.