VoodooMoon (23 page)

Ian stared, dumbfounded. He tried to think of something to say, but by the time he opened his mouth, she had opened the door to leave.

“I’ll take a hired rickshaw home. That should be safe enough. I’ll see you at the library at eight in the morning,” she said, then was gone.

The next morning Ian was waiting for me at the library. He was sitting at the table we had been at the day before, but the pile of already-read-already books from the night before had been cleared away and a fresh stack was waiting. When he heard me approaching he looked up, searching my face expectantly. I didn’t blame him for being a little wary, considering how I’d stormed out the night before. I’d lain awake a long time trying to come to terms with the past two days. It was a lot to process, especially the part where I’d fallen not just into bed with Ian, but into a relationship. I’d never been in one before, not really. The whole “sharing” thing had me a bit spooked.

I crossed to him and before he had time to figure out what I was going to do, I bent down and kissed him. It wasn’t a good-morning-how-are-you-nice-to-see-you peck on the cheek. It was a full on I-missed-you-I’m-still-a-little-mad-but-I-want-to-toss-you-down-and-have-my-way-with-you kiss, complete with tongue. We were both a little breathless when I pulled away.

I went around the table and sat directly across from him. “Okay, Master Necromancer, you want to explain to me how it is that you make zombies, you know, even though zombies don’t exist and necromancers can’t create them.”

Ian, still stunned from the kiss I laid on him, blinked. “I don’t create zombies.”

Oh, whatever. “Okay, re-animate the dead, whatever it is you do. Explain.”

“I can’t put spirits into dead bodies. As far as I know that is not possible. Or at least there has never been a real documented case, not in any of the books I’ve ever read. And trust me when I tell you, my family has copies of every book or journal on necromancy written in the last thousand years.”

I believed him. Of course even last night I knew whatever it was he could do was nothing like Bokor did, but I was too pissed off to tell him so. “Okay. So, what can you do?”

“I can use my energy to make the body move. It isn’t like using energy to say, move that book,” he pointed at a book. “What I do is put small bits of my own energy into the empty body. I then control the body, but there are huge limitations. The mobility is somewhat limited, and talking is not possible. I don’t put my life energy, my consciousness into the bodies. I have to keep my focus on what I’m doing, or I lose connection. I have to be close, within a few yards and have line of site.”

“That is why you were asking all of those questions before. You were checking to see if it was someone with the same power.”

“I’ve never met anyone else that could do what I do. Well, as you can imagine, it’s not the kind of power you advertise having. Even though there isn’t really any practical application, telling people you can make dead bodies walk around it tends to freak them out a bit.”

I laughed. “I imagine so. I do have to ask, how do you even know you can do this, and the limitations? I mean it’s not like it is on the Mage-level tests.”

His eyes got a far away, sad look as he answered. “Growing up I had a dog named Ghost. He was my best friend. Ghost was several years old when I was born, so it was no surprise, to anyone but me, when he died of old age. I went out one day to play with him and he just laid there. I held him and I cried, and I begged for him to get up. I sat there willing it so hard, then he did. He stood up, stumbled a few steps, then fell again. Still dead. My father had been watching and had immediately realized what happened. Of course his immediate thought was how this could help him scam a buck. So, that night he started taking me to cemeteries and digging up bodies, or when it was convenient killing animals for me to practice on. That lasted for a couple of years, until he realized that no matter how strong my powers grew, there was no real profit in it.”

That was horrible. My whole body screamed out to go over and pull him into my arms, but I knew it would make him think I pitied him. I didn’t. But my heart broke for the little boy he had been. I asked the next question quietly, not sure I wanted to know the answer. “How old were you?”

A shadow crossed his face then was gone, almost if it hadn’t been there. “I was seven when Ghost died.”

My breath burst from me in an explosion. “That asshole. If your father weren’t dead, I swear Ian, I would gladly make him so.”

Ian laughed, actually laughed, at my death threat. “It’s good to know you are starting to care about me just a little.”

Oh. Crap. “No, I’m not… Well, okay. Maybe just a little.” I grinned.

The smile he flashed back made my stomach twist in knots. “So we are okay?”

“We’re okay.” I agree.

“Good,” he said, sliding a book across the table to me. “Because we have a lot of work to do.”

****

Three hours later we had another huge searched-through pile of books, notes, and a few handwritten journals that had been found and given to the library. There was a lot of fascinating information, well, Ian thought it was fascinating, but nothing we read seemed to have anything to do with Bokor or what was causing the desiccated bodies.

“I think I’ve skimmed every magical-medical book in this place and there are no documented cases of anything like those bodies in the morgue. Every med-mage in Nash has examined them, and none of them have a clue.” I said, knowing my frustration was showing. I couldn’t help it. We were getting nowhere and I wanted to scream. “I just can’t believe there is no explanation. How can we find him and stop what he is doing if we don’t even know or understand what it is he is doing or how he is doing it?”

“The universe is infinite,” Ian said, his tone calming in that strange way he had. “It is full of things we cannot yet explain, may not ever be able to fully understand, but that doesn’t mean they are mystical or unknowable. It means we have not yet reached the level of knowledge it takes to comprehend the complexities of the universe. Up until two hundred years ago norm society believed magic and paranormal beings were nothing more than myth and fiction. Those who did believe thought magic was some sort of mystical religion and paranorms were evil demons. I suppose that in some parts of the world there are still people who believe that sort of drivel.”

“There are. In the south there are cities and villages with religious governments that deny the existence of magic, or worse, believe all paranorms are evil. There have been cases of such zealots going on killing sprees in Allied City-States. There have even been mass murders of entire villages. It doesn’t happen much in Appalachia because most of the territory is claimed by either Nash or Atlanta and our Blades keep a close watch on potential threats. Even in the mountains where most of the villages are autonomous and separate from either city-state, most of the inhabitants are were or vamp clans, so there isn’t much problem of that sort.” I told him. “As a matter of fact, when Sam first started briefing us, I thought that might be what we were dealing with. But a norm wouldn’t be able to pick out a mage on the street, and there were no attacks on norms or other paranorms. Also, other than the man that attacked Millie, there were no bodies, and pro-norm fanatics always leave bodies.”

“I can see that. It is possible, if not easy, for a norm to kill a paranorm, especially if the mage doesn’t have the ability or knowledge to use their power for self-defense, but it would be next to impossible to hold a mage with any sort of talent for long, unless they kept them drugged.” Ian said thoughtfully.

My brain slammed into overdrive. “Drugs! That’s it! You are brilliant!” I leaned over the table and smacked my lips hard against his, surprising us both.

“It’s great that you are finally recognizing my intelligence, but can you let me know why I’m brilliant at this particular moment?” He said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Hang on,” I said, waving one hand at him as I fished through the notes I had taken earlier, until I found what I was looking for. “Zombies!” I said, thrusting the paper at him.

“Fiona, I thought we covered this. Zombies don’t exist.” Ian’s voice was full of exasperation.

“Yes, I know, I get it. Would you just read the damned paper?” I said, not really annoyed, because I knew I was right and had finally stumbled on some sort of answer for what was happening. “Necromancers can’t create zombies. But according to my research, Voodoo Priests can.”

While Ian read the notes I had jotted down, I flipped through the book I found the information in, and finding the page, read over it again, refreshing my memory and paying more attention to what I had missed earlier.

“According to this, some voodoo priests created zombies by using drugs that mimicked death, then later, after they had “resurrected” the “corpse” gave the person hallucinogenic drugs that kept the person in a dreamlike state that allowed the priest to mind control them. This must where the original legend of zombies began.” I said, then read quietly for a few more minutes before gasping. “Wanna guess what the priests who worked with zombies were called?”

A grin spread across Ian’s too handsome face. “Bokor?”

“You win the prize,” I said. Ian waggled his eyebrows and I hurried on before he could ask what the prize was. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch this when I was reading it before. I guess since I’d already found out Bokor was one of the names priests were called, depending on the sect or whether they were considered good or evil, I didn’t really pay attention when the word popped up again.”

“It doesn’t matter. You see it now,” he said. “So, you think Bokor is drugging his victims and mind controlling them.”

“Drugging them, yes. It would explain how he was able to abduct some very powerful mages with little struggle. But how is he inhabiting their bodies?” I asked.

Ian was quiet, his brows knitted together in thought, then as if a switch flipped on, his eyes went bright with dawning realization. “What if you were right all along and Bokor is a necromancer?”

I was confused. “Didn’t we just have a huge fight last night where you told me there was no way this was done by a Necromancer. You said that Necromancers can’t reanimate the dead, not in a way that would make it possible for them to talk and interact.”

“They can’t. But I don’t think that is what he is doing. I can put bits of my energy into empty bodies, dead bodies, what if that is what he is doing? What if he is putting his entire consciousness into the bodies.”

A sick, creepy feeling washed over me. “Okay. But you can put your energy into bodies that are empty. The spirits of the people he has used haven’t turned up, anywhere. If he is killing them first, why aren’t you able to call their spirits to their bodies?”

He stood and started pacing back and forth in front of the table. “I have a theory about that, too. The other night when I told you that you were a Succubus I told you I knew that because of the way I work with energy.”

“I remember,” I said, slowly, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

“Our power types are related, kind of interconnected. Perhaps he has an advanced form of the power you have. You can pull energy from the world around you and into your body before you release it, which is harmless because it everything is made of energy and you don’t suck the energy out of any one thing. But, what if he can pull the living energy out of a person and into his own body, but not release it.” He stopped pacing and turned to look at me.

“Oh, crap. That makes sense. The thought of that makes my skin crawl.”

“I know,” he said. “Mine too. But, it is a plausible theory.”

I nodded. “Okay, so you think he is pulling their energy out of them, perhaps leaving just enough to keep the body alive and then puts his own energy into their still living bodies?”

Ian came to sit back down. “I do. I think that can explain why the strange mummification happens to the bodies when he pulls his energy out. Something in the transfer leaches out the bodies fluids. Really, I can’t explain it. But like I said earlier, there will always be unknowable factors in life.”

A cold chill ran through me, curdling my blood. “Ian, he told me he was going to devour me. You are right. He is sucking their life energy into his body, feeding off of them. That’s heinous.”

“I know. We have to put a stop to what he is doing. But I just don’t know how. So far nothing we’ve come across gives in insight into where he might be holed up,” Ian said, his tone exasperated.

“Actually, I have my own theory about that. He’s calling himself Bokor, which is a Voodoo Priest. He’s obviously using Voodoo methods to create zombies. So, whatever his motivation is it is religious in nature. I think that where ever he is it is, or was a sacred or holy place.”

“Okay. But there is only one problem with your theory,” Ian said. “Voodoo was primarily practiced in the Lost Lands, and wasn’t a mainstream religion before the Cataclysm. It is now practiced by a few bands of gypsies. I doubt if there are any Voodoo holy places in Nash City.”

I grinned at him, loving that finally I had caught on to something before he had. “No, I doubt there are. But remember Miss Leona told us every tribe worships their religions in different ways, that the religions have changed over the years. And, right here in my notes,” I tapped the paper, “I noted that early Voodoo was a tribal religion and that it changed over the course of years into many different versions. Some of those versions merged traditions and beliefs from the Catholic religion with the original traditions.”

Ian’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “Very clever. So you think we should search old Catholic Churches.”

“Not just Catholic. People of all religions were displaced when the Lost Lands sank into the sea. It could be very likely that he could consider any, or all, former religious sites holy ground. I’m betting there is a list or a map in the archives of locations that was once a church or held some other religious function. There would have been one compiled when the anti-religion laws were in effect.”

It was Ian’s turn to lean over the table and kiss me. “You are brilliant, Fiona Moon.” He said, then rose. “Well, come on, we have research to do.”