The (sort of) Dark Mage (Waldo Rabbit) (25 page)

“Offerings,” Waldo nodded. “We do that too. So you brought criminals to be offered up in sacrifice.”

“Criminals? What are you talking about? We bring offerings; bread, cakes, nuts things like that.”

“I see, well it’s a good idea to feed the undead, however they prefer flesh. Especially if it’s still living. If you’re not going to give them any criminals you should bring pigs or goats.”

“There are no undead! Ick! It’s symbolic! It’s a way to show the spirits that they have not been forgotten.”

“It just sounds like a huge waste of food to me.”

Alice didn’t appreciate his mocking the customs she had grown up with. “Well what do you do?”

“Well for the Summer Solstice our traditions are a bit similar. Each of the Seven Families gathers together and has a feast that includes special ginger cakes with ground wolfsbane mushrooms.”

“Wait a minute! Wolfsbane is poisonous!”

“Only if consumed raw. If you boil them the mushrooms give you a powerful mind altering effect. They will take you to places you never imagined. The very first time I ate the ginger cakes I imagined I was a raven flying free high above the castle. It was amazing.”

Alice did not know what to say.

“After the feast we would go into the courtyard and light a bonfire. We would then undress and have the slaves cover us in oil and paint ceremonial images on our skin. Then they would play drums and chant as we danced about the fire crying out like savages to the night. Our minds and souls completely free and one with nature and the darkness. You cannot begin to imagine how liberating it is! Casting away the civilized mask and returning to the primal. That’s when I saw my mother naked, as we all danced about the fire howling like wild beasts.”

“You danced around naked?! Where people could see you?” Alice was scandalized. Not even Elsa and the women who worked for her would ever go that far. Even soiled doves had their limits.

“It’s very liberating. Especially when you’ve had the ginger cakes and your mind has been opened.”

“It sounds absolutely barbaric.”

“Which is what makes it so much fun.”

Alice closed her eyes and shook her head. “What would you do for the Winter Solstice?”

“Again, our custom is a bit similar to yours. We would make an offering to the Dark Powers to renew he land. We would force any criminals or prisoners we had to fight each other to the death until only one remained.”

“You made men kill each other?” Alice asked horrified.

“They were only criminals and would have been executed anyway. This way their deaths had some meaning.”

“I suppose you at least let the last one go free right?”

“Go free? Don’t be ridiculous. Who would set a criminal free? The survivor we fed to the zombies, they deserved a treat too. It was a holiday after all.”

Alice just stared at him.

“So I hope everything is cleared up now.”

“I think I’ll stop asking questions for a while.”

XXX

They again set off in search of the road.

As they went Alice spotted something from the corner of her eye. It was a color that did not belong in a summer landscape.

She saw a tree whose bark and leaves were white as snow.

Instinctively she stopped and drew a circle above her heart.

“What is it?”

Alice pointed out the solitary tree. “A soulwood.”

Following her finger he immediately noticed it. Waldo’s reaction was he opposite of Alice’s. “How interesting.”

To her utter consternation he headed straight towards it.

Chapter 16

A Question Of Trust

Waldo walked right up to the soulwood as Alice held back.

“You shouldn’t go near it.” Alice told him and again drew a circle over her heart.

Waldo stopped right in front of the soulwood and got a close look at it.

The bark was white as bleached bone
, as were the drooping tear shaped leaves. Except for the color the tree was anything but impressive. Its trunk was slender enough that he could have wrapped his arms around it and easily clasped his hands together. Only five branches stretched out like frail fingers from a withered hand. From each branch the large flat leaves hung limply. There were too few leaves, and so the tree had a bare look to it even in the summer. From the ground to the highest tip of the tallest branch was only about fifteen feet.

The soulwood’s trunk was twisted like a man trying to stoop though a mine shaft. Rather than growing straight it twisted to the right with one of the branches growing parallel to the ground, the other four reaching to the sky.

There were many knots and divots in the bark that resembled faces. Seeing a soulwood up close for the very first time it was easy to understand why the uninitiated believed the stories that they did.

He took out one of his two slim knives from a boot. He began hacking off some of the bark.

“What are you doing?!” Alice cried aghast.

“Soulwood bark can be used in a number of mind control potions. Outside of Avalon these trees are exceedingly rare. There’s no way I’m missing the chance to collect such a precious ingredient.”

“But everyone knows that the souls of the condemned are trapped inside of them!”

“That is superstitious nonsense,”

“You don’t believe the souls of the dead can be called back to Earth?”

“No, as a matter of fact I know that can be done. However it requires a special ritual, a sacrifice, and the assistance of a Greater Power. It also requires a container for the soul such as the original body, a doll, a suit of armor, or a mirror. Souls have to be forced back to this Earth; they do not return naturally or by choice. This tree has some magical properties, but so does wolfsbane or mandrake; it has nothing to do with human souls.”

To Alice everything touching a soulwood or the subject he was discussing was the blackest of blackest things. That he not only knew about such things but found them mundane made her worry. “Darling when you talk like that you scare me.”

He stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder.

“Thank you! It makes me happy to hear that!”

He went back to carving off some more bark and stuffing the strips into his pockets.

“By the way, when I get my hands on a vial or glass container with a stopper I am going to need to make you cry.” His pockets were filled to bulging. He carefully began to exam the stunted branch that was near the ground.

“Why would you want to make me cry?”

“The tears of a succubus are the core ingredient to making an incredibly powerful love potion.”

“…”

Satisfied, Waldo took his knife and began sawing through the branch.

“What are you doing now?”

“I am going to make myself a new wand.”

XXX

In Castle Corpselover

Walter carefully inspected the runes he had chalked into the floor. It was a complex enchantment, but not one that required a large amount of mana. When he’d been alive this had been child’s play. Now it represented the absolute limit of his magical abilities.

If Walter had allowed himself to just stop and consider the situation honestly, he would have to admit that everything his mother had said to him was true. She had done the best for him that she could. As a zombie, still having most of his memories and the ability to work any magic at all was verging on the miraculous. After his death, being granted any sort of existence was a mercy he certainly did not deserve.

If he could have admitted this to himself, he might have tried to find satisfaction in the small pleasures his situation granted him.

But Walter had never been one for introspection even when he was alive. Now that he was mostly dead he didn’t want to see things rationally. He wanted to hate, and to blame, and to pretend he could still get the thing he wanted most.

“Grandfather, will you come and talk to me?”

The chalked runes gave off the slightest glow.

Walter felt strength drain from his body. Even this minor spell was demanding for him.

The runes were drawn around a circle. The air a couple feet above the floor shimmied and warped. The barest outline of a skull took form. Its shape was made of shadow and was just visible. If you looked away and looked back you might not see anything there at all.

“Is that you Walter?” The skull’s jaw moved and a rasping voice could be heard.

“Yes, it’s me grandfather.”

“Well this is a surprise. I haven’t seen you since I ripped out your heart and ate it.”

“I remember.”

“How are you?”

“I’m a zombie.”

The shadowy skull nodded. “Yes, I’d heard that. How is your mother?”

“Same as always I suppose; clever, powerful, and ruthless.”

“Ah, it makes a father proud, though I still do have hopes of eating her someday.”

“If you tried she would destroy you.”

“Yes, likely she would.”

Walter glared hatefully. “I should curse you for what you did to me.”

“The dead cannot cast or be effected by curses.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m not surprised; I did eat you after all.”

“Why did you betray me? We had an agreement. I gave you access to the castle so that you could kill mother for me.”

“That plan was never going to work. Unlike you, my daughter was never a fool; the castle certainly has other defenses against me. I could never have taken her by surprise.”

Walter stared hard at the mocking skull. “Then… from the start? You were planning to betray me from the very start?”

“Why are you so surprised? You were planning to betray your mother. Did you think you were the first in the family to ever do something like that? Do not complain. We all deceive and betray to get the things we want. I was just far better at it than you.”

“I trusted you!”

“For that alone you deserved your fate.”

Despite his anger Walter knew that was true.

‘
Trust is a dagger pointed at your own heart.
’ One of the many sayings he had learned growing up. He had never been one to trust others, but Walter had also never had much patience. He’d been forced to wait as all those in front of him had died and he was heir.