The Necromancer ✓

Chapter One

The portal takes me to my kitchen. I lie down on the floor, wedged between the island bench and the sink. I curl up as tightly as possible, drawing my knees up and pressing my forehead against them. Shut out the light. Sob. I want to cry until my head and my lungs hurt as much as my heart does; until I feel dehydrated; until I feel like throwing up. I feel as though I might cry until I die...

I wonder if anyone has ever died of a broken heart before. None of the dead I've spoken to have mentioned it. Though, I suppose it would be terribly embarrassing to admit it, in this day and age.

"Laurel?" Someone is shaking me. I sit up slowly. It's Tyler. "Are you okay? Where are you hurt?" He's looking at my blood-soaked clothing. So much blood and -

"None of its mine," I say, wishing it were. "What are you doing here? Didn't you leave?"

"I didn't get very far," he smiles, embarrassed. "All of my things are here."

"Oh."

"And, I thought, maybe I should come back anyway because I can't stand not knowing what I saw."

"I think you know what you saw," I say, "that's why you ran away."

"I think I saw you practicing dark magic, but I'm a journalist, kind of, so I don't care what I think I saw." Tyler bends to peer into my eyes, "I want the truth."

"You sure you can handle it?"

"No," he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, "but I'm willing to try."

An hour later I'm sitting across from Tyler, drinking tea and trying to figure out where to start. I'm wearing my oldest jeans and my warmest jumper but I still feel cold. I pile my curls up into a bun and wrap a hair tie around the wet mass. It will probably go frizzy when it dries, but I don't care enough to work a leave in conditioner through it right now.

"So," I take a sip of tea. "I can raise the dead."

"Those ghosts I saw then... they were ghosts, right?"

"I think you saw them because of my aura." I frown into my cup, "I think it illuminated them."

"Right," he nods, "because the spectrum of light in your necromantic aura shone through the astral plane." I raise my eyebrows at him, not entirely sure I understand what he just said. "Um, there was an episode of Sliders where the vortex did that."

"Okay." I said, remembering Tyler' obsession with old TV shows. He'd once told me that the reason he wanted to be a journalist was because of Lois and Clark. You know, that trashy superman show from the 90's where Clark Kent is played by that guy who was Gilbert in Anne of Green Gables. Tyler had made me sit through all four seasons of Lois and Clark just after he moved in. He got pretty pissy with me for referring to Clark as Gilbert whenever he wasn't wearing the tights. Granted, when he was wearing the tights I was a bit too distracted to do much talking.

"We can watch it later, if you want."

"Um, that's okay..." we sit in silence for what feels like hours. "I've never really talked to anyone about this before. It's harder than I thought it would be."

"You can't have thought it would be easy."

"No. I still can't believe you're sitting here, asking me."

"Curse of the journalist," he shrugs.

"You're not going to write about it?" I try to keep the question out of my voice. He was scared of me once - even if it was only for a couple of hours - maybe I can use that to make him keep my secret.

"Are you scared about people finding out?" Tyler tilts his head to one side, like an inquisitive puppy.

I sit up straighter and glare at him. "Do you know what they used to do to people who were suspected of witchcraft? Of communing with the devil? Imagine what they'd do to me."