Potter's Field

Chapter Seventeen/Part One: The End

Grim slithered through a small gap between two collapsed bookcases, heading for the circular staircase.  He still couldn’t quite believe that Mars had dismissed him so easily, without half his guts splayed on the stone floor, but he wasn’t about to give him the chance to regret it.

            He dodged around large piles of falls books, slipped across scattered papers, and climbed over sideways bookcases.  He reached the place with the couches and stared at the chandelier, which hung precariously low, held in place by a single bolt in the ceiling.  Grim avoided the circular area where the chandelier threatened to fall and slunk to the edge of the staircase. 

Looking up, he saw a figure climbing steadily, about halfway up.  Not wanting to call any attention to himself at the moment, he skittered up a few steps and rolled himself into a ball.  Grim turned his face toward the area Mars still occupied, narrowing his gaze in on the two.  Mars had his hands on either side of the girl’s head and Grim could smell a spell being performed, even this far away.  He heard a crack followed by a yelp from the girl.  The girl rubbed her nose and scowled at Mars.

Grim held his breath as the spell finished, the magic sinking back into Mars as he stepped away from the girl.  As he watched, the girl stood up, shook herself and started to talk to Mars, but Grim couldn’t hear what was said.   

“Girl alive, girl alive, master dead,” Grim muttered.  He felt a squeezing panic grip his heart, and his breath came in short sobs.  What was he to do now that master was gone?  His spirit no longer occupied the new body, and the old one lay cold and still in the large plush chair, directly beneath the swinging chandelier.  Grim stared at his old master, wishing that he could get up from that chair, walk over to Grim and pat him one more time on the head. 

The clatter of books made Grim look up.  Mars and the girl were making their way over the piles of books toward the couches and the staircase.  Grim looked up.  The man still climbed, but Grim had no more time to wait for him. 

Carefully, so his nails wouldn’t get stuck between the holes in the stairs, Grim clattered up a few more steps.  He reached the man quickly and paused, looking down.  Mars and the girl had made it to the sitting area.  Their voices echoed up to him.

“How much time did you end up using?  You look a little younger, rounder about the face.”  The girl grinned at Mars, tucking her hands into her pockets.

Mars pulled out a pocket watch and opened it as he hobbled around a sideways bookcase.  “Not terrible.  Look, I’m nearly eleven again.”  He held out the watch for Silver to see.  “I’ll not be ten in twelve minutes and forty-seven seconds.”

“Well, that’s a relief.  I’m told that the younger you get, the snarkier you are.”

“That doesn’t seem to hold well with you since you were so much quieter and more obedient when you were younger.”

“It must only apply to you, then.”  The girl grinned as they reached the area with Master’s old body.  They both collapsed on the couch across from old Master.  They sat together in comfortable silence until the girl pointed over to Master.  “So what are we going to do with this body?”

Mars shrugged.  “I guess we’ll bury it in the graveyard.  Mighty convenient having one of those in our front yard.”

The girl snorted.  “Do you even know what name to put on a tombstone?”

Mars shrugged again and put his cane across his lap.  “No, but then I suppose he’ll fit right in on Potter’s Field.”

Silver chuckled and leaned more heavily into the couch with a sigh.  They sat once again in silence.  Grim itched all over.  He didn’t like the silence.  Glancing up, he saw the man had climbed a few more stories.  He uncurled form his ball and clattered up a few more steps.  He winced as the sound of his claws echoed in the silent room.  He’d forgotten to be careful.  He looked down, straight into the eyes of the girl.  “Hey,” she said suddenly, pointing up, “isn’t that the wyvern I brought you?” 

Grim jerked back, shivering.  He looked at the man still climbing.  Deciding to risk it anyways, Grim slithered up the stairs and slipped easily past the man who only let out a surprised gasp, but no spells.

He reached the door in a matter of seconds, leaned up on his hind legs and twisted the handle easily.  Master had been the one to teach him how to open doors.  The thought of Master made another sob rise in his throat, but he squashed it down when he heard footsteps getting closer.

Opening the door, he skittered down the hallways, easily finding his way to the front door.  Outside, Grim paused to look out over the large expanse of graves before him and wished that he had never agreed to come to the island in the first place.  Everyone knew it was something akin to suicide to set foot onto Potter’s Field.  Why had Master risked it?

He scooted down the front steps and ran across the field, dodging grave markers and draugar, recently de-animated by Master’s death.  “Around body, next stone, over head, next stone,” he instructed himself unsteadily as he made his way back to the rocky beach where he’d arrived on the island.

Once there, he rose up on his hind legs and took one last look at the island that had taken so much from him, before slithering into the icy cold ocean water and swimming away.