Arcane Inc.: Books 1-4 (Arcane Inc. Box Set), page 39
Summoning the dead is not one of those spells that you can do simply by force of will. It’s a spell that requires a bit more ritual and a lot more magic. Usually I would have grabbed some of the magic I keep stashed away for scenarios such as this one, but I forgot. Luckily, there was an alternative. When a sorcerer dies their magic gets stuck in the place of their death. Unless a warlock steals the magic at the time of the death. In Margie’s case no warlock did. That meant that her magic was in the theatre. When magic is trapped in a place it can be used by other sorcerers but not taken. Even warlocks can’t take magic once it belongs to a place. I’m the exception, because I am a special kind of warlock I can siphon magic out of places unless it’s protected. I couldn’t imagine that anybody had come back and protected Margie’s magic.
I dropped to one knee and placed my palm flat on the wooden stage at the approximate place Margie had died. I didn’t need to be in the exact spot but the closer I was the easier it would be. I could feel her magic at once. Like a low vibration humming gently inside the wood. Margie was not a greatly powerful sorcerer but she had been a skilled one. Her skill was worthless to me now, it was all about power and I hoped that she’d left enough to give me the boost I needed. I’ve been taking magic for enough years now that I can do it with little concentration. Sometimes I come across some magic that is a tad more difficult to nick but Margie’s was not. I barely had to think about taking it and the magic flowed right into me. My hand trembled a bit and a small glow appeared beneath my hand. The lights around the auditorium flickered and the one nearest to me shattered. That happened fairly often when I took magic and I don’t even flinch anymore. As I withdrew my hand I got used to the feeling of the new magic inside me. I didn’t like having Margie’s magic, it felt wrong, like stealing from a friend. When all this was done I’d give it up. I couldn’t put it back into the theatre but I could get it out of me. As I expected, there wasn’t much power but it would be enough for the summoning.
I needed to pop out of the auditorium to grab something. I did so via the backstage doors so as not to make Ashley think I’d already summoned Margie. It took a while because I wasn’t familiar with the layout of the building but I did manage to find way to the staff room. There was a guy in a little red waistcoat in there and I promptly put him to sleep. A bit of digging around in the cupboards and I found a massive pot of salt.
Salt is very useful as a containing agent. It protects against a good number of things and is great for trapping them, or keeping them out. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. When summoning a spirit from the dead realm, they can sometimes get stuck on the wrong side and stay in the land of the living. To counteract that I was going to create a salt circle and summon Margie into it, that way when I broke the circle she would disappear. Unfortunately it did mean that neither me nor Ashley would be able to enter the circle. Not a problem for me but I thought Ashley might want to give her mum a hug. Most spirits can’t take fully physical forms anyway.
When people try to commune with the dead on television or in books they always use candles. That is a misconception of how summoning the dead works. It’s not the candle that holds the magic — unless it’s an enchanted candle — it’s the fire. Fire represents life and can be used to draw the dead to it. If you use candles you’ll get a weak connection. That’s why I didn’t use a candle. I conjured a fire in the centre of the stage and let it rise to about four foot high. Don’t worry, I wasn’t about to incinerate the place again. The fire would not spread without my say so and besides, it would be trapped in the circle. Magical fire cannot pass over salt. I don’t know why, it’s just one of the rules. I poured the salt in a thick circle around the fire leaving a generous amount of space inside. The next bit was the the tricky bit. The reason for doing the spell here was because Margie had died here so it would be easier to form a connection with her spirit. It also meant that any other spirit who died here would be able to hijack that connection. I wasn’t a major issue because the circle would contain whoever came but it would be a bit annoying if I got the wrong ghost. I’d done this once before and it was so long ago that I was having a hard time remembering exactly what I’d done. Rachel had taught me the spell and she’d talked me through every step. Now I was on my own.
I took a deep breath and concentrated. In my head I called Margie to me putting particular emphasis on her name. I repeated the summons over and over again and then began to say it out loud. “Margie Sheridan, hear my summons. Come to the fire. Come to the living.” I repeated it over and over again, getting gradually louder. The fire disappeared and with it every light in the room went out leaving me in darkness. I held my breath. I knew something was happening I just wasn’t sure what. I don’t remember it happening like this when Rachel had taught me the spell. The lights went out and then the spirit appeared, the fire never ceased burning.
The fire shot back up out of the floor, orange and magnificent. Sparks were flying around it in a dazzling display. It was no longer a normal fire, though, it was in the dumpy form of Margie Sheridan. Her eyes were bright yellow and they locked onto mine. The sweet and lovely woman was now a terrifying figure of a fire. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” she said shaking her flaming head.
14
“What are you up to, Eddie?” Margie asked. Her voice had a demonic echo to it which gave me the shivers.
“You are the fire,” I said, thinking out loud.
She looked down at herself and then shrugged. “It’s your spell, Eddie.”
“Ah!” I exclaimed as the pieces clicked. “I was supposed to put the fire outside the circle!”
Margie shook her head and tutted. “It isn’t an Eddie spell if it doesn’t go wrong in some way, eh?”
“Hey, I summoned you didn’t I?” I shot back.
“Yes you did. Yes you did indeed. Why?” She was no longer quite as happy. Some dead people don’t appreciate being dragged back. She was obviously one of them.
“It’s a bit of a long story,” I said and shifted awkwardly.
“I’ve got nothing but time.” Her eyes sliced into me.
I told her how Ashley wasn’t coping very well and that she needed to say goodbye. Margie nodded slowly. “That’s not all though, is it? You want something else?”
She was a clever old witch. “Well, I did think that since you’re here I could pick your brain a bit.”
“And there’s the truth of it. What do you want to know?” She gave me a stern look but didn’t seem overly annoyed that I’d hijacked her daughter’s emotional moment for my own purposes. I explained the Panomie case I was working on and asked her for any information she had on gnomes and how I could stop Panomie.
“I can’t believe I never heard about this,” Margie said in shock. “So many children.”
“It was kept secret by the police and… other people,” I said, realising that I didn’t know what Clara and her people were called.
“Even so.” She looked away as she thought it over. She seemed to think for a long time, longer than I’ve ever known Margie to take. She was always pretty snappy with a solution. “Gnomes are a bit of a mystery to me.”
“You and everyone else,” I said.
“Imps. It’s the only answer I can think of,” she said.
“Imps, the ones who tricked the gnomes or something?” I was trying to remember the story about how they became enemies.
“There are a million stories about how they became enemies but all you need to care about is the fact that they are enemies,” Margie said. “You can’t get to the lower realms to rescue the children but an imp could take you. Imps are said to be much more powerful than gnomes so you might be able to use one to fight Panomie. The options are there.”
“How do I find an imp?” I asked. If I could get hold of an imp it sounded easy enough to solve my problem.
“You’ll need to summon one. To summon one you need to know it’s name. You can’t summon it without a name.”
“How do I summon one and where do I get a name from?” Every solution seemed to come with two more questions.
“Summoning imps is… dangerous. My sister dabbled in that sort of thing when she was alive. I don’t know what happened to her summoning spell but there is definitely a list of imp names in her old grimoire. It’s part of my library now. You should be able to get a summoning spell from the black market,” she answered. There are supernatural shops and markets all over the country but for stuff that’s more unsavoury you need to visit the black market.
“Okay.”
“Eddie, imps are not known for being cooperative. You may need to bind it. If you bind it to an object then as long as you hold the object it will have to do your bidding. But, the binding ritual is difficult and if it goes wrong you can rest assured that the imp will kill you. That’s how my sister died.”
“She tried to bind an imp?” I asked.
“I warned her not to summon one.”
“So what should I do?” I asked. One minute she was telling me to bind an imp then she’s warning me not to.
“Try asking it for help first, best to try not annoying it. You might have something to offer it. If it refuses then bind it.”
“What could I possibly offer it?”
“I don’t know. In the stories they always liked babies but I’m sure you can arrange a less immoral trade,” she said casually.
“Stories? Like Rumplestiltskin?” I joked.
“The most famous of imps,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Rumplestiltskin is real?” I said aghast. How many of the other fairytales were true?
“He was. I don’t know if he still is.”
“Alright. Alright,” I said as I organised my thoughts. She’d given me a lot to think about. “Why do gnomes take children, though?” If anyone knew then she would.
She let out a long breath. “I’ve never heard of gnomes taking children. Not like this anyway. There’s stories about creatures from the lower realms taking human babies and children, but not so many. This is something else. Something horrible”
“Alright, well, thanks,” I said. “I guess I’ll get Ashley to come in.” I started to turn away.
“Eddie,” Margie said gently and I turned back. “You know it’s not your fault don’t you?”
“What’s that?”
“My death. Rachel killed me. Not you. You were right to try and stop her.” Her words did a lot more good than I ever thought they would. It wasn’t like a great weight had been lifted, but a small one certainly had.
“Thank you, Margie.” I nodded. “Thank you.” I turned away again but once more she called me back.
“Oh and Eddie. Don’t ever summon me again.” Her eyes went from compassionate to furious in less than a second. I took a step back subconsciously, scared despite the protective circle.
“I… I won’t.”
“Good. I was enjoying my eternal rest. And as for this darkness inside you.” She must have seen the shock on my face because she nodded. “Yes, I know about it. I heard Rachel talking about it, remember? Is it still in you?” I cast my eyes away. It was all the answer she needed. “I see. You are not responsible for my death but you are a danger to my Ashley.”
“Margie, I would never—”
“Don’t interrupt me,” she scolded me.
“Sorry.” I suddenly felt like a little boy again.
“This Panomie business is serious. Those children need protecting. To bind an imp will take two sorcerers. If my sister had had help maybe she would have survived. If you have to resort to that you’ll need Ashley’s help. But once it’s done you leave her alone. I know that you would never hurt her, but when the darkness takes hold you are not in control. I will not have her at risk. Do you understand?” I’d never heard Margie so stern, so authoritative. It was quite unnerving, even for a guy filled with darkness.
“Yes. I understand,” I said meekly. “But, if your sister died because she was meddling with imps don’t you want Ashley as far from this as possible?”
“I do yes. But my grandmother always said we shouldn’t let the troubles of the past stop us from doing what’s right in the present. The right thing for Ashley to do is help those children. Oh, and do one more thing for me.”
“What?”
“Return my magic to me. I know you have it, I can feel it even from here.”
“How?”
“Put it into these flames.”
I stepped up to the salt line. “Can I…?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t try to escape, Eddie,” she said. I kicked a break in the salt circle and then held my hands out to the flames. I’d only every transferred magic into people and glass boxes before. I treated this the same way I did the boxes and began the process. Margie the fire-ghost turned from red to yellow, then purple and back to red again.
“Thank you,” she said. “Take good care of Ashley.”
“I will,” I promised. She smiled kindly in the way I remembered and gave me a parting nod.
“Now send in my daughter.”
I told Ashley that Margie was ready for her. She took a few minutes to prepare herself before she entered. Before Ashley went in I told her to put the fire out so the spell would be broken and Margie could return to her eternal rest, as she had put it. Then I watched her go inside. I wandered into the lobby area where there were chairs — yep, you got it, all red — and took a seat. I still felt deflated after my telling off. Margie was right, though. It was inconsiderate of me to put Ashley in danger, but I didn’t want her out of my life which meant finding a way to destroy the darkness. The things was, a part of me liked it now. Destroying it would be like destroying a part of myself. I wasn’t sure I could do it.
“Are you a warlock?” Leah asked inquisitively. Rather than sitting next to me she dragged one of the chairs over so it was directly in front of me and then hopped up in to it. I felt like she was beginning an interrogation.
“Yes,” I replied. One thing I admire about children is their lack of respect for social rules. If they have a question they just ask it. If adults did that the world would be a much simpler place. Especially if they answered truthfully as well. Not that children are known for being honest all the time.
“Does that mean you’re a bad man?” There was no judgement in her voice, just curiosity.
“No. I’m a different kind of warlock. A special kind.”
“My mum says Uncle Toby is a special kind of person. He got kicked in the head by a horse when he was little and now he has learning problems,” she said.
“Not that kind of special,” I replied. “I’m a warlock who doesn’t kill people for their magic.”
“So you haven’t killed anybody?”
“Well… I have, but…”
“So you are a bad man?”
“I’m not… They deserved to die,” I said defensively. I thought to the three-hundred and forty-nine people I’d killed in this very theatre. They hadn’t deserved to die, they were under Rachel’s control. Innocent observers. I pushed the thought away before the darkness came to swallow it.
“My mum says it’s not up to us who gets to die. Only big people can decide,” she said matter-of-factly, folding her arms over her chest.
“I am a big person.”
“No! Big like the Queen,” she said and giggled.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?” I asked.
She considered it and then shrugged. “I don’t know you.” I smiled warmly at her. Sometimes children can be so much smarter than adults. I wondered how many adults in the world would hear that I’d killed so many people and decide I was bad without ever meeting me, but a five-year-old child would make no such judgement without first getting to know me.
“Well said, Layla.”
“Leah,” she corrected.
“Whatever,” I replied snarkily.
The doors to the auditorium opened then and Ashley wandered out slowly, as if lost in a daze. Her eyes were wet with tears.
“Everything sorted?” I asked. She nodded and then without warning wrapped her arms around me and buried her head into my chest. I wrapped my own arms around her and squeezed tight. It was nice to have her back, if only temporarily.
“Thank you, Eddie,” she whispered in my ear and then she gave me a kiss on the cheek which felt like it lasted longer than it should have. I wanted to give her one back, only on her lips. I resisted though. It wouldn’t be appropriate.
“Don’t mention it,” I whispered back.
“Right. Let’s get on with this,” Ashley said.
Before we left I checked that the fire was definitely out and then cleaned up my mess. I didn’t want any confused ushers coming across the remnants of my ritual. We left the theatre just as the first members of staff were waking up.
15
“Do you think it’s a good idea taking the sprog to the black market?” I asked. My morals are pretty low but even I know the black market is no place for a kid.
“What’s a sprog?” Leah asked in that childish tone of innocent curiosity.
“You are,” I replied.
“No she’s not!” Ashley scolded. “You’re not a sprog.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a sprog,” I argued.
“It sounds horrible,” said Ashley, wrinkling her nose.
“Alright, I won’t call her a sprog. But we still shouldn’t take her to the market.”
“Mum took me there when I was nine,” Ashley said as if it was time sort of rite of passage. “She wanted to get me ready for when I got my magic.”
“And you want to do the same for Leah?”
