No Humans Involved (Otherworld 7)

"We have until the end of the day, I'm sure." Claudia's glare dared Becky to argue.

After a moment, Becky said, "As long as you're cleared out by sundown, because that's when the staff has been told they can leave."

WE WENT back to my room. Jeremy closed the door behind him and watched me getting out my necromancy kit. I double-checked, making sure I wasn't missing or low on anything.

Finally I looked up at Jeremy. "I'm doing the raising now."

"I see that."

I studied his expression. Blanker than usual.

"You're wondering why I practically announced it down there, telling Grady and Angelique I'm going into the garden for a while."

"The question did cross my mind."

"I'm setting the stage," I said as I checked my supply of vervain and hoped it would be enough.

Jeremy frowned. "Setting the stage for the discovery? I'm not sure that's--"

"Wise?" I finished. "Maybe not. But I'm trying to come up with something worthy of a television event. The spiritualist, summoned to the garden by the restless dead, uncovers their bodies. There's no way Todd Simon will shut us down after that. It'll add a whole new dimension to Death of Innocence. The show will go on and we won't need to leave before we've solved the mystery and freed the ghosts."

After a moment Jeremy said softly, "It could backfire, Jaime."

"Yep."

Another quiet moment, then, "It could cost you that TV show you want."

"I don't really want it anymore."

The words startled me at first. Then the sensation settled into one of relief, as I realized I'd given voice to a decision I'd been longing to make.

"I hate television," I said. "I don't need the added boost to sell tickets. So the only reason I have for pursuing it is self-satisfaction. To reach a goal I was raised to believe I should want, above all others. Well, I don't want it. These last couple of days I've hated it more than ever, because it was interrupting something I really wanted to do."

I looked up at Jeremy. "You said you like to help.

So do I, but I've been fighting it all my life. Maybe I'm not very good at it. And I'm sure I'll never run around chasing down problems like Paige or Hope. But this is what I want to do--now, not five years from now, after I've had a TV show that I'll hate every moment of. Time to do what will make me happy: stage work and council work."

"Good." He smiled, then went sober. "But this could still damage your professional reputation."

"Yep. It could." I opened a small tin of grave dirt and sniffed it for freshness. "But what matters right now isn't the show or my reputation, it's the children. What's best for them is to have me here, close by, with all-hours access, working to free them. Whatever the cost."

"But you can do this without the premonition angle. You happened to be in the garden. You saw something sticking from the dirt. You alerted the guards, who called the police. Their interviews alone will delay all plans to pack up today."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But giving this a spiritualist angle guarantees they won't pull the plug on the final show, which I suspect they're considering, despite all the promotion they've done. They'll back out and blame 'problems on the set'--meaning us. But if I find a body and claim it had something to do with spirit communication? The buzz will be too big for them to cancel it. Personally, I don't care anymore, but I feel...guilty, I guess. I'm responsible for getting us shut down, and now I may have ruined Angelique's big shot at stardom and Grady's chance to pick up a North American audience."

"We'll have to handle it carefully."

"I plan to."

OUR THEORY about this human magical group was that they were "scientists" of the occult world, trying and discarding various theories and practices, maybe latching onto a ritual or an ingredient that seemed to work, and experimenting until they found just the right combination, the one that did something.

As I prepared to raise a body, kneeling at my altar cloth while Jeremy and Eve kept watch, I pondered on how we--true supernaturals--weren't much different. There's no single way to raise a corpse. Every necromancer family has its way--one it swears is better than everyone else's.

Some use poppets--small dolls stuffed with hair or nail clippings from the target. The O'Caseys prefer a more complicated method, but one that doesn't require body bits.

As for the ingredients and invocations, again, they vary. Like spellcasters, we use what's been "proven" to work. As with spellcasters, there are those who say the whole thing is hooey--that we don't need to sprinkle grave dirt over a chalk symbol, we don't need to blow corpse dust to the four winds--that the power to raise the dead, as the power to communicate with them, is within us.

But we keep using what works. That doesn't mean we're too stupid and superstitious to try without the bits and bobs of ritual. This group had probably done the same--tried sacrificing an adult. Maybe it failed, as did our pared-back rituals. That could be psychology at work--at some level we're convinced we need ingredient X and therefore we fail without it. Or maybe I was thinking too much to avoid what I was supposed to be doing.