First storm, p.4
First Storm, page 4
I frowned. “Why is her cell different from the other prisoners’ cells? It doesn’t even have bars.”
“Because she’s nuts,” said Warden Garcia as he flipped through his key ring searching for the key to the Necromantress’ cell. “Every time we’ve paired her up with another prisoner, she always tries to kill them. So we put her in solitary confinement, though she still rants at us about how she is going to kill us all and use our dead bodies as fuels for her dark rituals or whatever.”
“Sounds like Shawna,” said Rubberman dryly. “Guess prison hasn’t changed her much.”
I agreed with Rubberman. Shawna Kenneth, better known as the Necromantress, was a supervillain who had come to Golden City not long ago seeking revenge against Rubberman. She wanted ‘revenge’ because she was also his ex-wife and their divorce had been quite messy from what Rubberman had told me. Unlike most bitter ex-wives, Shawna had decided to delve into the darkest secrets of magic and become the Necromantress, a crazy supervillain who could reanimate corpses and probably do a whole bunch of other evil magic stuff that we didn’t know about.
Luckily, we had managed to arrest the Necromantress a while ago and put her behind bars. As it turned out, the Necromantress was pretty much harmless without access to the potions she used to reanimate the dead. It had been a while since we had heard from her and the only reason we had answered her call at all was because we were curious to know if she actually knew anything about the Mirar situation.
“Do you really think she knows anything about how to get rid of the energy barrier, boss?” I muttered under my breath to Rubberman as Warden Garcia found the key and started undoing the locks keeping the door closed. “’Cause we’re on a deadline and we don’t really have time to waste on a possible dead end.”
“We don’t have any other leads right now, either,” Rubberman replied in an equally low voice. “Shawna might be crazy, she might want me dead, and she might be my ex-wife, but she’s also our only real lead at the moment. I’m even less excited to see her than you are, but it’s not like we have a whole lot of choice.”
I shrugged. “I guess it’s a bit more productive than running around Golden City like headless chickens hoping to stumble upon Mirar, but—”
“There,” said Warden Garcia as the last lock slid away. He turned around to face us. “Okay, I’ve unlocked the door, but just gotta warn you: She’s nuts.”
“Tell us something we don’t know,” said Rubberman.
“I’m just telling you to be careful,” said Warden Garcia. “She might be restrained, but I’d still keep my distance just to be safe.”
Rubberman and I nodded. Warden Garcia then opened the door and the two of us stepped inside.
The Necromantress’ cell was surprisingly small. I’d estimate it was about ten by five, if even that. It had no windows, although it did have an air conditioning vent. A single fluorescent light bulb hung from the ceiling, while a toilet and cot sat off to one side, with the toilet set near the head of the cot. The room smelled vaguely of human sweat and dust, though again, my air filter kept most of that crap out of my nostrils.
But our attention was drawn to the woman hanging from the wall on the other end of the room. She was a tall, beautiful woman with long, scraggly dark hair and a rather large bust that was obvious even in her orange prison jumpsuit. The woman looked up at us when we entered, her dark, gaunt eyes full of hatred and curiosity in equal measure. She looked like the better-looking granddaughter of the witch who tried to eat Hansel and Gretel. Her wrists and ankles were chained to the wall behind her, giving her maybe two or three feet of room to move around in.
“Hello there, Shawna,” said Rubberman, the two of us keeping a good distance from Shawna. “Long time, no see.”
Shawna—or, as I thought of her, the Necromantress—sneered at Rubberman and me. “The Necromantress will not deign to greet you, Dennis, or you, Beams. Although the Necromantress may have lost her freedom, she still has her pride.”
Did I forget to mention that the Necromantress also spoke in the third person? If that wasn’t a sign of how crazy she was, I didn’t know what was.
“I hope you haven’t already forgotten that you were the one who called us here,” said Rubberman. “Given the tight deadline we’re on, Beams and I should probably just turn around and leave if you’re going to talk to us like that.”
The Necromantress moved forward suddenly, but her chains became taut and she nearly stumbled. “Wait! The Necromantress begs you to stay. She knows how to get rid of the energy barrier and save the city from Mirar.”
Rubberman and I exchanged skeptical looks and I said to the Necromantress, “Since when did you care about saving Golden City?”
“The Necromantress doesn’t care about Golden City,” said the Necromantress, shaking her head. “If Mirar kills everyone in Golden City, then the Necromantress will never be able to get her revenge on Dennis. And if the Necromantress cannot get the revenge she so richly deserves, then the Necromantress’ life will be wasted. That is why the Necromantress desires to help you.”
“Of course,” I said dully. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to turn over a new leaf while in prison.”
“The Necromantress is good just the way she is,” the Necromantress retorted. “Now, do you want the Necromantress’ help or not?”
“First off, you need to prove that you actually can help us,” Rubberman said, folding his arms in front of his chest. “You know we can just take your word for it.”
“Fine,” the Necromantress said. She stood upright, causing her to look down at us due to her height. “Allow the Necromantress to get to the point: Mirar’s energy barrier is magic. Specifically, it is a physical manifestation of mana, the underlying energy which allows a mage like me to cast spells and create Rituals.”
“Really?” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “You expect us to believe that Mirar is using literal magic to cover the city?”
“That’s not as crazy as it sounds,” said Rubberman, stroking his chin. “First off, Shawna has already proved that magic is real, at least one kind of magic. Second off, I’ve heard rumors that the Zero Knights dabble in science and magic equally.”
“Dennis is correct for once in his life,” said the Necromantress with a nod. “The Necromantress knows this energy barrier is a spell because it was a spell she learned about during her days with the Society of the Initiated.”
“Society of the Initiated?” I said. “What is that?”
“A secret society of mages that has passed down magical knowledge for generations,” the Necromantress replied. “They are the ones who taught the Necromantress everything she knows about magic. She is unsure if this Mirar is also an Initiate or if he stole the secrets on his own. He might possibly even be working with an Initiate, which seems far more likely to the Necromantress than the idea that he has magical powers himself.”
I nodded. I remembered Rubberman explaining to me that he didn’t know where the Necromantress got her magical knowledge from. I guess that explained it, but I had to admit that her explanation left me with more questions than answers. “So how come we haven’t heard of this Society until now?”
“The Society is very secretive,” said the Necromantress. “Very, very secretive. In fact, just knowing about them requires undergoing a series of brutal tests that only the strongest and smartest can survive. They jealously guard the secrets of magic, especially the secret of mana, which forms the basis of all magic, even my own.”
“What is mana, exactly?” I said.
“Mana is the foundation of the universe itself,” said the Necromantress. She closed her eyes as if in prayer. “Mana is the soul of the universe. When we mages draw upon mana, we are essentially drawing upon the universe’s very soul. That is the short and simple explanation. The full explanation is too long and complicated for an amage like you to understand.”
“Amage?” I said. “What does that mean?”
“It is what Initiates call those who don’t have magic,” said the Necromantress. She shook her head and opened her eyes again. “But it does not matter. The Society is irrelevant to our current predicament. What is relevant is that I know how to undo this spell.”
“You do?” said Rubberman skeptically. “How so?”
The Necromantress scowled. “Because it is one of the spells the Necromantress was taught, although she was only taught the personal version that allows a user to protect themselves with it. That Mirar has somehow managed to make a barrier large enough to cover an entire city speaks either to his ability as a mage or the ability of someone else. Either way, you will need the Necromantress’ help to destroy the barrier.”
“Why do we need your help?” said Rubberman. “Maybe we can destroy the barrier on our own.”
“You cannot,” said the Necromantress simply. “Mirar spoke the truth when he said that the energy barrier is indestructible through amage means. Only mana can destroy mana. Any other method used to destroy or even weaken the barrier is doomed to failure. As a mana user myself, I can help destroy it.”
That all sounded crazy, and I knew that the Necromantress was crazy, but I had also fought and killed a dead alien god from another universe not too long ago myself, so maybe my skepticism was arbitrary. I guess I just didn’t trust the Necromantress herself based on our past experience with her.
“Exactly how can you destroy the barrier?” said Rubberman. He spread his arms wide. “It covers the whole city. I doubt one person like you could destroy the whole thing by yourself.”
“The Necromantress will not destroy the barrier itself,” the Necromantress said, shaking her head. “She will destroy its Ritual. If she can destroy the Ritual, then the barrier itself will naturally fail.”
“Ritual?” I said. “What kind of ritual are we talking about here?”
“A Ritual is how a spell is created and maintained in magic,” the Necromantress explained. “Especially large ones like this. Most likely, Mirar has multiple Rituals set up all around the city that all feed mana into the barrier without his active involvement. We need to destroy all of them to disable the barrier.”
“How many Rituals are we talking about?” said Rubberman. “Two? Three?”
“Three, most likely,” said the Necromantress. “That is the minimum necessary to maintain a spell of this size and strength.”
“Okay, but how do we find these Rituals?” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “We don’t even know where Mirar is. How do you expect us to find his Rituals?”
“That is where the Necromantress comes in,” said the Necromantress. She pointed at her head with one of her fingers. “As a mage, the Necromantress can sense mana, no matter where it is. The larger the mana signature, the easier she can sense and locate it. Right now, the Necromantress senses about three large pools of mana somewhere in Golden City, though she is not close enough to any of them to pinpoint their exact location yet.”
“I see,” said Rubberman, stroking his chin. “So you want us to let you out of prison so you can lead us to the Rituals.”
The Necromantress nodded. “Exactly. The Necromantress cannot tell you where they are, seeing as she doesn’t know Golden City very well. But she can lead you to them if you let her come with you.”
“How do we know you won’t just use this an excuse to run away?” I asked suspiciously. “We know you don’t want to be in prison.”
The Necromantress laughed. “Where, young boy, do you think that the Necromantress would run to if she was freed? The Necromantress couldn’t open a hole in the energy barrier to escape the city even if she used all of her mana. No, the Necromantress’ only chance of survival is to help you two locate and destroy the Rituals. The Necromantress will then peacefully return to her cell to await the day that she gets her delicious, cold revenge on Dennis. Promise.”
I looked at Rubberman. “What do you think, boss? Can we trust her?”
“No,” said Rubberman flatly. Then he shrugged. “But what choice do we have? I’m not sure how much of her story I believe, but it’s the only explanation we have for why things are the way they are. And considering how close our deadline is, we really don’t have the luxury of picking and choosing our allies.”
The Necromantress smirked. “Exactly. The Necromantress is pleased to see that Dennis can see reason and logic. She never saw any hint of it during her marriage to you.”
Rubberman, however, pointed a finger at the Necromantress. “Just because we’re going to work with you doesn’t mean we’re going to put up with your crap. If you keep sniping at me, I’ll happily toss you back into your cell myself.”
“But that would mean risking the destruction of the city itself,” the Necromantress pointed out. “That doesn’t sound like a very ‘heroic’ thing to do.”
Rubberman sighed and lowered his finger. “Whatever. I’ll tell the Warden to let you come with us. Just keep your mouth shut ninety-nine percent of the time and we should be fine.”
“The Necromantress shall be as silent as the dead,” the Necromantress replied with a falsely innocent smile.
I sighed even as Rubberman and I left her cell. Something told me that we were going to regret working with her even if we did somehow managed to save the city.
CHAPTER SIX
We started to regret working with her almost as soon as we left prison, which was just ten minutes later. Almost as soon as the three of us got into the Rubbermobile, the Necromantress, sitting in the back seat, said, “The Necromantress finds this vehicle cramped and uncomfortable.”
Sitting in the passenger’s seat, I looked over my shoulder and saw that the Necromantress did look a tad uncomfortable sitting there. The Rubbermobile’s roof was about the same height as your average car, but the Necromantress was an unusually tall woman. She did, however, have room back there for her legs, though perhaps not as much room as she wanted. She also had a blinking metal collar around her neck that was supposed to allow the prison to track her movements throughout the city. That way, if she tried to run away, the police would be able to find her again no matter where she went in the city.
Rubberman, however, didn’t sigh, but he rolled his eyes as he turned on the Rubbermobile’s engine. “Sorry I didn’t design my car for you. I’ll try to keep that in mind when I buy my next car.”
“The Necromantress didn’t say the car needed to be altered to fit her needs,” the Necromantress said, “but she does demand that you move your seat up an inch or two to allow her long legs stretching room. It’s going to be a long day and the Necromantress is going to need to have her utmost comfort if she is going to be able to help you find the Rituals.”
Rubberman’s grip on the steering wheel tightened so much I was afraid he might just rip the steering wheel right off, but he did move his seat up literally an inch and said, “Is that enough for you, Your Highness?”
“Yes, but the Necromantress does not appreciate your sarcasm,” said the Necromantress as she stretched her legs slightly. “The Necromantress says that you should be less sarcastic with her, otherwise the Necromantress might not be as inclined to help you as she—”
“The Necromantress could go back to prison and we could save the city on our own if she keeps complaining about her seating,” Rubberman said, glaring at her over his shoulder. “Because remember, the Necromantress is still a prisoner of the city and still has a fifty-year sentence to live out.”
“How dare you speak to the Necromantress that way!” the Necromantress said indignantly. “The Necromantress says that—”
“Can you two please stop arguing with each other?” I said, causing both Rubberman and the Necromantress to look at me in surprise. “We have more important things to do than snipe at each other like this.”
Rubberman nodded and returned his attention to the parking lot. “You’re right. Our focus should be on finding and disabling the Rituals that maintain the barrier.”
“The Necromantress agrees,” said the Necromantress, “but she is still not going to be happy with her seating arrangements or sarcasm directed her way.”
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “Just tell Rubberman where to go, please, so we can find the Rituals.”
As Rubberman pulled out of the prison’s parking lot and got us back on the main road into the city, I was starting to think that today was going to be a very long day if Rubberman and the Necromantress were just going to spend it sniping at each other. There was a very good reason I never got in between divorced couples and this was the prime example. Maybe it would have been better not to answer the Necromantress’ call and let her continue to rot in her cell where she belongs.
“Okay, Shawna,” said Rubberman, his eyes on the road as we drove back into the city proper, “where is the closest Ritual?”
The Necromantress put a hand on her forehead and frowned. “The nearest Ritual is near the Harold Golden Bridge. The closer we get to it, the easier it will be for the Necromantress to pinpoint its exact location.”
Without another word, Rubberman turned down an intersection and floored it, causing the Rubbermobile to go rushing down the streets of Golden City on our way to the Harold Golden Bridge.
Unfortunately, getting to the Bridge took a good deal longer than normal. The streets of Golden City were full panicking, scared people. Everywhere I looked, I saw people running along the sidewalks or down streets, trying to go anywhere that they thought was safe. State troopers and police officers were busy trying to maintain some semblance of order, but it was clear to me that it was a losing battle. A part of me wanted to stop, get out, and help, but I knew that the only way to end this panic was to remove the barrier, which meant locating and destroying the three Rituals that Mirar was using to contain the city. Besides, the image of the fruit basket man and how so many of those scared people seemed to hate us made me a little hesitant to leave the Rubbermobile and help anyone at the moment.
Traffic was congested as well. Lots of people had gotten into their cars and were trying to escape the city that way. Of course, escaping the city was impossible even with a car. According to the police radio we listened to as we drove, the barrier blocked off all roads to and from Golden City, including bridges. Luckily, Rubberman knew the city layout well enough to find all sorts of back streets and alleyways we used to bypass the worst of the traffic, but even then, we still didn’t go nearly as fast as normal. It did help, though, that the city government had apparently shut down the Harold Golden Bridge and all other bridges in the city due to safety concerns. At least then we wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with scared civilians there.
