We did not pass under the willow, but instead, Henry took a path around it. Of course. Only then did I realize there were no graves beyond the willow, just the Abbey itself.
Henry’s pace remained determined, and it was soon clear to me he had a particular parley in mind. I confess, I was more than a little intrigued and walked quickly behind him, anxious to see where this was going.
“You may have overheard me tell my father I have no interest in disturbing the dead.”
“Yes, I think so,” I agreed. “I remember something about it anyway.”
The style of the stones behind the willow were a lot more modern, and the inscriptions more easily read. Henry stopped by a newish grave marked by a marble weeping angel. The figure had fallen to her knees, her arms shielding her face as she clung to a book on a pedestal. “It grieves Dad to no end, but it’s something I feel strongly about. The dead have passed over and should be left there in peace. As necromancers, we have the power to summon them, but merely having a power is no justification for using it willy-nilly. At least I think so anyway.”
I shifted my weight from one leg to the other as I pondered this, and then I followed Henry’s lead and leaned forward to place my mug at the side of the grave. “So? If that’s the case, what’s the point of us and all this training?”
“Sometimes, the dead will reach out to us. I have no objection to them communicating with the living for their own purposes. I simply object to disturbing their peace for our own personal gain. You hear about these grave robbers, waking up Great-Uncle Pete just so someone can get their hands on his coin collection. It’s despicable.”
“I suppose so.” To be honest, I hadn’t really thought of it in those terms before. Personal gain wasn’t what I was about, or at least I didn’t think so.
“All I’m saying, really, is each of us has a duty to examine our own motives before we go diving in. If they want to talk to the living, well, so be it.” Henry rested his hand gently on the back of the bent over angel and petted the stone affectionately. “Take my friend George, here. We first became acquainted two years ago, after an unfortunate accident at a rival shop brought him to this place a little earlier than he would have liked.”
I looked around Henry to read the inscription on the stone.
George Udolpho
Born 1999 - Died 2019
His bright future came too soon
And explosively.
We will always miss you, George
Don’t come back.
I covered my mouth as I tried not to laugh at that last comment. “Oh my Gaia poor George. What was that about?”
“Not everyone is as adept with a spell pot as you are. Seriously, Cat, sometimes you don’t give yourself enough credit. Anyway, poor George here wasn’t paying attention and threw the wrong ingredients into someone else’s cauldron. Luckily, he was the only one working that day, but he got to meet Gaia much sooner than anyone expected.”
“Poor thing.”
“Yup. He was only just twenty. His passing over was troubled, and shortly after he was buried here, he made his presence known.”
“Oh? How did he do that?” I asked. “Did he rattle a few chains? Spook a few tourists?”
Henry laughed. “No. I found him hovering outside my bedroom window the night of the Super Bowl. He’s a huge Patriots fan and died a few weeks before the game. He didn’t want to miss it.”
“He crossed over from the dead to watch a football game?”
“Hey, love is love. I don’t judge. Anyway, George isn’t quite ready to say good-bye to the Magic Apple, so every now and then, he pops up to say hello. As you can probably guess by the inscription, he has no desire to go home. He’s an odd one, but I don’t think he’ll mind a pretty girl summoning him to say hello.”
I blushed, pretending not to be pleased he’d called me pretty, but I was delighted just the same. These immature thoughts were super embarrassing, but I couldn’t help how I felt. “So you want me to summon George here?”
“Yup, exactly.”
“Should I go grab my spell book?” I pointed over my shoulder, back to the willow, but Henry shook his head.
“No need. I can tell you the incantation. You just need to focus like you did before, and all will be well. And don’t worry, I’m right here should anything go wrong. Okay?”
I sucked in a ball of cold air and squared my shoulders. I had to confess I was excited. And not the least bit afraid because, as Henry had pointed out, he’d be right there.
“So what do I do?”
Henry moved to stand behind me. “In a minute, I want you to channel all your emotions into that ring and put your palm out across the grave. Then, when you feel you have enough power stored, say these words. Stincan ûðe wægn swogen.”
That was a mouthful. I raised my eyebrows and looked at him sideways.
“Stincan ûðe wægn swogen,” he repeated. “Say it now before you draw on the ley line to get the hang of the words.”
“Stincan udh waggon snogen.”
“Ûðe. Purse your lips, like this.” Henry puckered up, and I couldn’t stop from giggling. He cocked his head to one side, trying to appear stern, but I knew he was laughing too. “Come on, you can do it.”
“Maybe if you’re Welsh. Ûðe wægn.” It sounded silly to me, but Henry nodded, so I guessed I’d done it all right. “What does it mean?”
“Arise from the dead, sort of. Ready to give it a go?” he asked.
I stood alongside the actual grave and closed my eyes. Henry hadn’t said I needed to, but I knew it would help me concentrate and just went with it. As before, the power of the ley lines entered my body, and as before, I waited, letting the pressure build inside me until I could sense something like a ball of magic, desperate for release. I held out my palm over the raised earth, and when I felt the moment was right, I spoke the incantation and opened my eyes.
“Stincan ûðe wægn swogen.”
At first, I saw nothing, but then a mist of silver light emanated from my ring and slowly circled the grave. It was heavy, like a malignant fog. The mist dropped low to the ground as it caressed the hallowed sod, as if sensing what lay beneath it. As soon as it had gone full circle, the earth under my feet trembled and the branches of the willow whooshed behind me, moved by an invisible force.
The mist I’d created was sucked into the earth, and when it reappeared a moment later, it took on the ghostly shape of a young man. He was about Henry’s height, but his frame was more delicate, and his silvery hair was stuck to his face, like a bad case of bed hair. His football shirt had the number twelve emblazoned on it, and I imagined Tom Brady’s name on the reverse. I was glad he had all his limbs. At least his ghost showed no signs of his having suffered what must have been a fairly violent death.
George took one look at me and wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. When he saw Henry, his whole face lit up in a happy beam. He drifted over toward him. He raised his hand as if to high-five him, and then, like he suddenly remembered he was dead, he dropped it lamely to his side. “Tonight’s not a game night, is it? I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again until next week.” There was a slight mystical echo to his voice. Though dead as he was, I could hear the trace of a New York accent.
He sounded younger than I would have expected. Henry had said he was twenty, but I double-checked the dates on the stone to make sure there was no mistake.
“No, there’s no game tonight,” Henry said. “I just wanted to introduce you to my friend, Cat Morland. She’s staying with me for a while, and I thought you might like to meet her.”
He turned to me and smiled. I was sure his dull eyes would have twinkled if they could, but he broke into a big smile, revealing a large gap between his molars. “Is she one of your trainees?” he asked Henry.
Henry nodded. “Yes, she is.”
George looked impressed, eyeing me up and down in a way I suspect he wouldn’t have dared if he were living. “Wow, you have the best job. There were hardly ever any women at our place, and never such good-looking ones.”
I smiled at the compliment, knowing he intended no offense.
George closed his eyes, and his spirit began to drift back toward the grave. His shape became less defined, fading by degrees until at last, he was nothing more than the mist out of which he came. The mist circled the grave like a cat looking for a comfortable spot to rest in, and then with a small puff, it thumped against the ground, and all trace of George was gone.
“Wow, that was awesome,” I said. “But why did he go so quickly?”
Henry took a step back from the stone, ready to return to the willow. “Your magic wasn’t especially strong. Next time try spindling a little more, so he can stay for a longer time. You did real good, Cat. I’m proud of you. How do you feel?”
“Brilliant, as it goes. Should I have another go? I can try to pull a little more this time.”
Henry shook his head. “No, not today. George isn’t quite ready to cross over just yet, and I knew he wouldn’t mind a short summoning, but I wouldn’t push him too far. Let’s give it a day or so, and then maybe we can try again.” He picked up both our mugs and began walking back toward the willow, so I fell into step beside him.
“What do you want me to practice on in the meantime?” I asked. The truth was, I felt like I was on a roll and wanted to do it again. Heck, I’d have woken every darned soul in the cemetery if Henry would allow it.
“There are several different versions of this spell in your book. Learn them. Learn the incantations. And practice spindling more magic. The more you can hold inside you, the more competent you will become.”
I liked the sound of that.
“That should keep you busy until dinnertime, anyway.”
“Okay, I promise. I’ll study. What are we going to do tonight?” I didn’t want to sound too eager but was hoping for a little alone time with Henry, preferably without magic books or incantations.
“Not sure yet. Unfortunately, I have to go out with Dad before dinner. Just for a few hours. That’s why he asked to see me.”
My disappointment must have registered on my face because he added, “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.” We had just reached the willow tree, and Henry gallantly pulled back the branches to allow me to pass under them.
“Anything fun?” I asked, trying to sound upbeat about it, though I felt more hollow than anything.
“Just a little family business. Nothing for you to worry about. I don’t think we’ll be gone very long.”
That was something, at least. “Is Eleanor going with you?”
Henry shook his head. “Nope, ‘fraid not, but I think she has plans of her own. You think you’ll be able to survive in a big bad abbey, all on your lonesome?”
I laughed. “I’ll do my best. Just be sure to leave plenty of breadcrumbs so I can find my way around in there.” I nodded in the general direction of the Abbey.
“I will,” he said.
As the branches fell behind us, I paused and turned to face him. Here, under the protection of the willow tree, we were quite alone. I ached for him to kiss me, and I stood still, my gaze fixed on his face, leaving him in no doubt of my intentions and offering him the perfect opportunity to make a move.
Henry came close and looked like at last, he might take the hint and finally go for it. He stood before me, staring back into my eyes, his own dancing with hope and desire. This was the moment things would start for us, I was sure of it.
Henry shifted the mugs in his hand out of the way, but the move was so clumsy he almost dropped them, and the remnants of my hot chocolate dribbled out and stained his coat. “Shit,” he cried, his tone a mixture of frustration and apology.
“Never mind, I know a good spell for that. I’ll take care of it when we get inside. Give me those mugs.”
Henry shook his head, and with a wave of his hand, the stain vanished. Still, he handed the mugs to me, and I placed them on the ground by my feet. “Now do what you were just about to do.”
Henry’s smile returned, and he stepped forward and caressed my cheek. I tilted my head up and held my breath as he bent slightly and brought his lips to mine. The taste of chocolate still lingered on his lips. His kiss was gently probing, and I found myself pushing up to his body, wanting more.
“Good Lord, the things that go on under this poor ol’ willow tree.” Eleanor had come back and was smiling at us. She brushed past, continuing toward the Abbey. “Oh, don’t let me stop you.”
But the mood was broken. Henry cleared his throat and said, “We’ll continue this later, when I get back from my trip with Dad.”
I nodded, sorry for the interruption yet delighted we were finally getting somewhere. It wasn’t magic that made me feel so delighted as I went to collect my magic book. Although maybe it was. The best kind of magic. I picked up the heavy tome and followed Eleanor inside. Henry came behind with the empty mugs.
We’ll continue this later. Thinking about this made me smile, and I wished it was later already. Later couldn’t come soon enough.