Part 3 (1/2)
Derek had wanted Simon to leave Lyle House and find their dad. Simon wouldn't leave Derek, who refused to go because he was afraid he'd hurt someone else. When Derek figured out I was a necromancer, he found his weapon to beat down Simon's defenses. One damsel in distress, to go.
I was the poor girl who didn't know anything about being a necromancer, who kept making mistakes, getting closer and closer to being s.h.i.+pped off to a mental hospital. See her, Simon? She's in danger. She needs your help. Take her, find Dad, and he'll fix everything. See her, Simon? She's in danger. She needs your help. Take her, find Dad, and he'll fix everything.
I'd been furious with Derek, and I'd called him on it. But I hadn't refused to go along with the plan. We needed Simon's dad-all of us did. Even Derek, who'd eventually joined us when our escape had been uncovered and he had no choice.
If I'd known what was going to happen, would I have stopped searching for answers back at Lyle House? Would I have accepted the diagnosis, taken my meds, shut up, and gotten released?
No. Harsh truth was better than comfortable lies. It had to be.
Dr. Davidoff took me back to my room, and I told myself I was fine with that. I needed to be alone so I could try again to contact Liz, now that I knew she was still around.
I started slowly, gradually increasing my efforts until I heard a voice so soft it could have been a hiss from the vent. I looked around, hoping to see Liz in her Minnie Mouse nights.h.i.+rt and giraffe socks. But there was only me.
”Liz?”
A soft, hesitant ”Yes?”
”I'm sorry,” I said, getting to my feet. ”I know you're angry with me, but it didn't seem right not to tell you the truth.”
She didn't answer.
”I'm going to find out who killed you. I promise.”
The words flew to my lips like I was reading a script, but at least I'd had the sense to shut my mouth before promising to avenge her death. That was one of those things that made perfect sense on the screen, but in real life, you think Great...and how exactly would I do that? Great...and how exactly would I do that? Liz stayed silent, like she was holding out for more. Liz stayed silent, like she was holding out for more.
”Can I see you?” I said. ”Please?”
”I can't...come through. You need to try harder.”
I sat back on the floor, hands wrapped in her hoodie and concentrated.
”Harder,” she whispered.
I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined myself pulling Liz through. Just one huge yank and- A familiar tinkling laugh sent me scrambling to my feet. Warm air slid along my unbandaged forearm.
I yanked my sleeve down. ”You. I didn't call you.”
”You didn't need to, child. When you summon, spirits must obey. You called to your friend and the shades of a thousand dead answered, winging their way back to their rotted sh.e.l.ls.” Her breath tickled my ear. ”Sh.e.l.ls buried in a cemetery two miles away. A thousand corpses ready to become a thousand zombies. A vast army of the dead for you to control.”
”I-I didn't-”
”No, you didn't. Not yet. Your powers need time to mature. And then?” Her laugh filled the room. ”Dear Dr. Lyle must be dancing in h.e.l.l today, his agonies borne away on the thrill of his triumph. Dearly departed, scarcely lamented, deeply demented Dr. Samuel Lyle. Creator of the prettiest, sweetest abomination I have ever seen.”
”Wh-what?”
”A bit of this, a bit of that. A twist here, a tweak there. And look what we have.”
I squeezed my eyes shut against the urge to ask what she meant. Whatever this thing was, I couldn't trust her, no more than I could trust Dr. Davidoff and the Edison Group.
”What do you want?” I asked.
”The same thing you do. Freedom from this place.”
I settled onto the bed. As hard as I looked, though, I couldn't see any sign of her. There was only the voice and the warm breeze.
”You're trapped here?” I asked.
”Like a fairy under a bell jar, metaphorically speaking. Fairies are a product of the human imagination. Little people flitting about on wings? How positively quaint. A more fitting simile would be to say that I am trapped like a lightning bug in a bottle. For magical energy, nothing quite compares to a soul-bound demi-demon. Except, of course, a soul-bound full full demon, but to summon one and attempt to harness its power would be suicide. Just ask Samuel Lyle.” demon, but to summon one and attempt to harness its power would be suicide. Just ask Samuel Lyle.”
”He died summoning a demon?”
”The summoning is usually a forgivable offense. It's soul binding that rather annoys them. Lyle should have been content with me, but humans are never satisfied, are they? Too arrogant to contemplate the possibility of failure, he neglected to pa.s.s along the true secret of his success: me.”
”Your magic powers this place. And they don't even realize it?”
”Lyle guarded his secrets to the grave and beyond, though taking them into the afterlife was not his intention. I'm sure he meant to tell them about me...had he not died before he got around to it. Even a necromancer as powerful as you would have difficulty contacting a spirit in a h.e.l.l dimension, so now I am bound here, my power enhancing the magics cast in this place. The others-this Edison Group-think it's built on the junction of ley lines or some such foolishness.”
”So if I freed you...?”
”The building would collapse into a pile of smoldering rubble, the evil souls within sucked into h.e.l.l, to be tormented by demons for eternity.” She laughed. ”A pleasant thought, but no, my departure would merely hamper their efforts. Significantly hamper, though-putting an end to their most ambitious projects.”
Release the demon under promise that I'd be repaid handsomely, my enemies destroyed? Hmm, where had I seen this before? Oh, right. Every demon horror movie ever made. And the horror part started right after the releasing part.
”I don't think so,” I said.
”Ah, yes. Set me free and I shall take my revenge on the world. Start wars and famines, hurl thunderbolts, raise the very dead from their graves...Perhaps you could help with that?”
The voice slid to my ear again. ”You are still such a child, aren't you? Believing in bogeymen. Of all the wars and ma.s.sacres in the last century, demons are responsible for perhaps a tenth; and that, some would say, gives us too much credit. Unlike humans, we are wise enough to know that destroying the world that sustains us is hardly in our best interests. Free me and, yes, I will have my fun, but I'm no more dangerous out there than I am in here.”
I considered it...and imagined the audience screaming. ”You stupid twit! It's a demon demon!”
”I don't think so.”
Her sigh ruffled my s.h.i.+rt. ”There is no sight sadder than a desperate demi-demon. After decades alone in this place, beating the bars of my cage, howling to deaf ears, I'm reduced to begging favors from a child. Ask me your questions, and I shall play schoolteacher, answering them at no cost. I was was a schoolteacher once, you know, when a foolish witch summoned me and invited possession, which is never wise, even if you're trying to destroy the dreadful little Puritan village that accused you of-” a schoolteacher once, you know, when a foolish witch summoned me and invited possession, which is never wise, even if you're trying to destroy the dreadful little Puritan village that accused you of-”
”I don't have any questions.”
”None?”
”None.”
Her voice snaked around me. ”Speaking of witches, I could tell you a secret about the dark-haired one you visited. Her mother-too ambitious by far-heard of another witch bearing a sorcerer's child, so she had to do the same. Now she's paying the price. A mixed-blood spellcaster is always dangerous.”
”Tori's dad is a sorcerer?” I said in spite of myself.