The Necromancer's Nephew (13 page)

"Sure," Garrett said.

"Well, it's best to get these things over quickly, boy. Dress your finest and go and meet your fate!"

Garrett stood before the Thrinnian Embassy, and folded the map that Uncle had given him. He placed it inside the pocket of Caleb's vest. Uncle had supplied the zombie with a sturdy set of boots, an old vest, and a belt, complete with several pouches, full of various useful items. The zombie could almost pass for a living boy if you didn't look too closely at him.

The high, windowless walls of the embassy towered above them, built of solid blocks of onyx stone, polished until the whole wall shone like a black mirror. The gate was set deep into a shadowy recess in the center of the wall. The mahogany door, paneled with blood-red amber, stood twice as tall as a man, but only a little wider than Garrett's shoulders. Hundreds of tiny hexagonal runes honeycombed the door's face, and an ebony ring hung at the end of a long red rope from a shadowy murder-hole directly above.

Garrett smoothed the front of his indigo silk robe and checked the fit of his black velvet gloves. He took the bouquet back from Caleb who had carried it since leaving the manor house. He worked up his courage and pulled the bell rope. Garrett half expected to be showered with boiling oil or a bucket of spiders, but instead a low mournful gong sounded from deep inside the walls of the embassy.

He stepped back into the gray sunlight and waited
.

"I hope they're home," Garrett said.

Caleb groaned and looked at him. A large black field locust buzzed down to rest on Caleb's forehead, and the zombie crossed his eyes to stare at it.

"I hope it's not gonna be another bug year
.
" Garrett shuddered
.
"I hate those things."

Caleb slowly reached up and clasped his hand over the huge bug. It buzzed as he pulled it away from his face to look at it. The zombie's lip curled in distaste, and he tossed it away with a stiff motion of his arm.

Garrett looked at his zombie and smiled. He opened his mouth to speak, but a muffled unlatching sound drew his attention back to the red paneled door. The door swung open with a dull scraping noise, leaving only a tall patch of inky darkness in the center of the glossy black wall.

"Hello?" Garrett called out, taking a step toward the open doorway.

"Who are you?" spoke the dry, thin voice of a man from somewhere within, "Make yourself known and your business with the ambassadors."

"My name is Garrett, and I've come to speak with Marla Veranu. I'm a friend of hers."

"What is your business with m'lady?"

"I... I brought her some flowers."

Silence answered, followed by a strange clicking sound. At last the man spoke again, "Are you a delivery boy?"

"I'm a necromancer," Garrett said, straightening his back, "and... I want to apologize to her for something."

The man made a low hissing noise. "Come inside."

Garrett hefted his bundle of flowers and stepped toward the doorway. "Come on, Caleb."

"Your... pet remains outside!" the voice within hissed.

"Oh," Garrett said, "all right. Caleb, wait here until I get back."

The zombie moaned and furrowed his brow.

"I'll be all right, Caleb. Just wait over there." Garrett pointed to a spot beside the gate.

Caleb's shoulders sagged as he slouched over to stand against the wall.

Garrett nodded at him and stepped into the shadowy doorway of the Thrinnian Embassy.

The amber-clad door creaked shut behind him, sealing out all traces of sunlight and leaving Garrett in total darkness.

The blackness smelled of old, dry herbs. Garrett could hear a slight shuffling somewhere nearby and then a sniffing sound. He suddenly felt very cold.

"Hello?" Garrett said.

"Freelander, eh?" the vampire said, "Not many of you left now, are there?"

"I guess," Garrett said, looking around, his eyes straining to see anything.

The vampire sniffed again, closer now. "Burned... badly burned."

Garrett remained silent.

"Ah," the vampire said, sounding surprised, "where did you find those?"

"Find what?" Garrett asked.

"The flowers. I haven't smelled duskbloom in many years."

"I brought them for Marla," Garrett said.

"Young Lady Veranu," the vampire whispered, "yes, she will like those, I think."

"I hope so," Garrett said, "I think I hurt her feelings yesterday, and I wanted to apologize."

"It would be unwise to grieve the young lady," the vampire said, his voice low, almost a growl.

"I didn't mean to, and I'm really sorry if I did." Garrett said. He wanted to ask the vampire to light a lamp, but was almost too afraid to see what the light might reveal.

The vampire sniffed again. "Sorrow, and fear... good. You have been warned. Remember that."

The vampire suddenly drew a heavy black cloth from atop a glowing crystal orb set on a narrow pedestal. The room filled with a pale, shimmering light, revealing a tall, thin man, dressed in black boots and trousers and a tailed coat. His face seemed too narrow and his jaw and ears a little too long. His skin shone ghostly white, and his bald head almost glowed in the light of the strange orb.

The walls of the moderately sized entryway were of amber, carved into countless swirling runes of all sizes. The ebony pedestal on which the orb sat and an unused coat rack were the only furniture.

The vampire gave a quick, birdlike tilt of his head and smiled.

The sight of the vampire's long yellow teeth chilled Garrett to the core, but he did his best to hide his reaction.

"I will notify the young lady of your arrival, master Garrett."

"Thank you, sir." Garrett said.

The vampire inclined his head slightly then turned, pressing his long-fingered hand against a certain rune on the wall. A section of the wall separated with a click and swung open on a concealed hinge. The vampire disappeared into the blackness beyond, and the secret door sealed seamlessly shut behind him.

Garrett looked around. He could make out the shape of the front door amid the carved runes of the six walls, but no other obvious exits existed.

He walked over to stand beside the strange crystal orb. The light within it seemed to ripple like water and its colors shifted constantly. He reached hesitantly toward it, and it flared brightly, making him pull back
.

Gathering his courage again, he placed his hand on the cool crystal
.

The crystal glowed brighter still, its colors more vivid. As he held his hand against the stone, it grew warm, and, most curiously, images of wood and water flitted through his thoughts. For a moment he found himself drifting, bodiless, through a dream of a shadowy green forest and a silvery brook.

"It's a wisplight," Marla's voice spoke from behind him, "I think it likes you."

"Marla!" Garrett spun to face her, "Hi."

Marla wore a high-collared dress of burgundy silk that hung just below her knees but left her arms bare beneath two black lace epaulets. Delicate, beaded sandals graced her feet, and her black hair was tied back into a tight bun, save for two long strands that framed her face
.

Garrett forgot how to breathe.

Marla's eyes fell to the flowers in Garrett's hand, and went suddenly wide. "Duskblooms!" she said, "Garrett, are those for me?"

"Yeah," he gasped. He managed to lift his arm to offer them to her.

She took them and brought them to her face, breathing in their scent with a look of girlish joy.

"I hope you like them," Garrett said.

"Oh, Garrett, they're wonderful!" she said, and rushed forward to wrap her arms around him.

Garrett returned the hug. Even through his gloves, he could feel the coolness of her skin beneath her dress. He wondered if he hugged her long enough, would she grow warm?

She stepped away, and he let her go, though it took all his will to do it.

"Wherever did you find them?" she asked.

Garrett smiled and cleared his throat. "Uncle found them for me at the market."

"I can't believe it!" she said, "I've never seen them for sale here... thank you, thank you!"

Garrett nodded
, and
then his eyes fell. "Marla," he said, "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about yesterday."

"I had a good time yesterday," she said.

"I mean... at the end, when I..."

"Oh," she said, looking down.

"I was trying to... I mean, I wasn't trying to see your fangs," he said.

Marla's hand lifted to her lips, and then she laughed
.

"I like you Marla, a lot," he said, "I just don't want you to be mad at me."

"Oh, Garrett," she said, "I'm not mad at you. I guess it was all kind of silly."

"Anyway, Warren shouldn't have said that. He was being a knob."

Marla giggled. "It's all right. Thanks for coming here to tell me though."

"Yeah," he said, scuffling his boot on the thick black rug, "I guess I just wanted to apologize. I hope we can go out again sometime."

"I'd love to," she said.

Garrett smiled, tried to say something,
and then
just smiled again
.

"I'm glad," he said at last. He looked around the amber room. "I'm not really sure how to get out."

"You don't have to go, do you?" she asked.

"No!" he said, a little too loudly, "I mean, no, I can stay as long as you'd like."

"You want to see my room?" she asked.

Garrett nodded.

Marla opened another panel in the wall, and Garrett followed her through into a long, shadowy hall.

"So, who was the guy at the door?" Garrett whispered as they walked past carved ebony doors that ran along either side of the hallway.

"Oh, that was Klavicus," Marla said, "He's a little strange, but very loyal."

"Oh... are there a lot of vampires here?"

"Not as many at this time of year," she said.

"Why's that?"

"The Council is holding session back in Thrinaar for several months, so we have only a few low-ranking ambassadors and visitors staying at the embassy."

"This is our apartment," Marla said when they reached a black hexagonal door, indistinguishable, to Garrett's eyes, from any of the others in the hallway. She rapped her knuckles lightly on the door and then turned the handle.

The door swung open to reveal a large, well-lit parlor. A simple, yet comfortable-looking divan sat against the wall, squeezed between two enormous, glass-windowed book cabinets. Hundreds of books and scrolls filled the shelves, all neatly sorted and arranged, not at all like Uncle Tinjin's heaped stacks.

"Mother?" Marla called.

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Veranu's voice answered from an adjoining room.

"We have a guest," Marla said.

Marla's mother poked her head around the dividing wall with a look of childlike curiosity on her face. She flashed a toothy grin when she saw Garrett.

"Finally worked up the nerve to pay us a visit in our lair, eh?" Mrs. Veranu asked.

"Look what he brought for us!" Marla said, holding out the duskbloom bouquet.

Mrs. Veranu's eyes went wide. "How did...?" She sprang to Marla's side with catlike grace and inhaled the flowers' scent.

"They were my father's favorite," Marla said.

"I didn't know that," Garrett said, "I'm glad you liked them."

"Like them?" Mrs. Veranu said, "Garrett, these are amazing! They don't grow around here. I'm guessing Tinjin had something to do with this?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Uncle found them for me."

"That old rascal," Mrs. Veranu murmured, running her fingertips over the purple blossoms.

"I wanted to show Garrett our place," Marla said.

"Good idea," said Mrs. Veranu, "He can stay for lunch."

Mrs. Veranu busied herself finding a vase for the flowers while Marla led Garrett through another door into a tidy little room with a multitude of colorful paintings adorning the walls. A single, small bed lay in the corner, and a small black cat lay sleeping on its patchwork quilt.

"This is my room," Marla said.

"Are these real places?" Garrett asked, looking at the paintings. Most of the scenes were of fantastic and vibrant landscapes
.

"Some of them are places I've been," she answered, "but most of them are only things that I've dreamed about."

"You painted these?" Garrett asked.

Marla nodded. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah," he said, "They're really good!"

Marla smiled.

"What's this place?" Garrett asked, pointing at a scene of a rocky island beneath a stormy red sky. The island itself lay in full sunlight, its reflection shimmering in gold on the surface of the dark sea that surrounded it.