✔ Secrets of the Amulet | ONC 2023 | EDITING

4. From the Dead

He used his wand to summon a sharp gust of wind to slice a small cut in his index finger and dribbled enough of his own blood onto the ground. The summoning spell ripped through his body like a tornado. Everett made a gesture for Kieran to stand back, allowing his mind to open a soulful channel between the living and the dead.

Necromancy was a form of magic he'd inherited from his great grandmother and his mother hated it when he tapped into such wicked magic. The ground he stood on shook beneath his feet as if hell below would erupt, but it subsided as Richard's spirit was pried out from wherever it rested.

Curly locks of brown hair swept over his pale face. Multiple pinpricks marred his neck, trailing down to the ripped collar of his bloodstained silver robe.

"Greetings, Richard. Sorry for disturbing your rest," Everett apologized.

"Are you my grandson?" Richard tilted his head, examining Everett in confusion. "Weren't you taller?"

"Uh, no. I'm Everett Pepperheart."

"Ah, you're Rosa's youngest child." Richard nodded. "Why have you summoned me?"

"Someone left your head in my library."

Richard blinked. "Pardon?"

"Yes, it's quite a peculiar incident. Your wife, Rowena, haunts my library. She knew it was your head right away," Everett explained.

"Wizards are wild creatures," Kieran muttered.

Richard whipped his head in Kieran's direction, eyes slanting with suspicion. "Is that a bloodsucker?"

"Uh, yes." Everett awkwardly fiddled with his wand and mentally cursed himself for not considering bringing a vampire to visit him being traumatizing. "But that's not important."

"It's not?" Richard frowned.

"I summoned you tonight to ask about your death and your stolen head." Everett stomped one foot on the ground, curiously digging his heel into the mud. "Despite the grass that's sprouted, I can sense your grave's been disturbed recently."

"How can you tell?" Kieran asked as he lowered him down to inspect the ground. "It looks normal to me. Nobody's dug him up recently."

"I can sense the lingering magic residue beneath my feet. And the grass around his grave is fresher than the strands around the graves near his. Many folks use their magic to sprout flowers or weeds if you're disliked, but nobody cares enough to replace the grass. Someone did that here to cover their tracks, so nobody noticed his grave was disturbed."

"Your magic element derives from Earth, doesn't it?" Richard asked. "You can feel things around you more strongly, right?"

Everett clicked his tongue. "Wind, actually."

It was a magic element that many wielders tended to overlook. While it wasn't praised as much as Earth or feared like Fire, it could easily be considered one of the most powerful among the four.

Richard rubbed his chin. "I've not noticed anyone visiting me, but I don't pay much attention. As for my death, it's likely in the Council's records. Vampire attack. Tragic, but it happens." He cast a worrisome glance at Kieran. "He's not the one who killed me, is he?"

That was fascinating news to Everett. "You don't know who drained your blood?"

"No, how would I?" Richard asked. "I was downtown, walking home from work."

"Richard, our death records claim it was suicide. That you sought a vampire out to turn you," Everett replied.

"Hell no," Richard spat. Rage mounted in his rigid face. "I'd never want to become a bloodsucker. How dare they even suggest that! I was a reputable member of the Supernatural Council." He dramatically touched his chest, straightening his posture as he told tales of all his arrests. "I even caught a rogue wolf walker once. All on my own, with no backup."