Kepler holds open Boris's left eye and pours water into it, then goes to do the same to the right.
Boris gasps. He rubs his eyes and blinks furiously. When he tries to look around, he comes face to face with the rat.
He tries to scramble back, but cars don't work like that. He just winces from the pain of everything and the seatbelt. "What's going on?"
"We're in the woods." She unbuckles herself and turns down the radio a little. "Don't try anything."
Boris grimaces. "And what do you plan to do here, Tiff? Hmm?"
"It's not what I plan to do. It's what you're going to do."
He laughs. "Really? Do tell."
"You're going to be normal. You're not going to try to kill anyone. You're just going to sit here. And we're going to talk. Like people."
The laughing continues until it turns into coughing. "Fuck. You brought me here to talk? Want to know my tragic backstory? I had wonderful parents. They made even better corpses. I still have them– Well, no. I don't."
"There's the tragedy. Lost your parents' corpses." She wants to kick him.
"Fucking Halverson and his Black Robe assholes took all of my pretty things."
"So soon?"
"Did they not tell you? I assume you're doing his dirty work."
"I might be."
"Of course. Cowards."
"They only told me you worked with Chip and you were a necromancer. They didn't even give me an end goal."
"No, I expect they wouldn't have. You know, Halverson and I used to be friends. I was actually his superior! I assume it's him who sent you?"
"Nobody with the BRD has ever given me a name. Just told me to call them 'agent.'"
"Yes, yes. Keep it impersonal. They don't technically exist. All black book shit. I was a true loyal Robe once. I mean... I had my own side hobby, of course. But really, I got to track some of the best necromancers in the country. Then they found out about my... hobby and I had to run. So here we are."
"Here we are. So the Robes already showed up and took your shit? How did you get— Did they not take you?"
"This was several years ago, darling. I've kept myself real quiet."
"Oh, cool. So I can still steal your books once I kill you. Fantastic."
"Is this what you want? My notes? My books? All of this is because you want to study what I've done? Why, Tiffany, I am speechless. All you had to do was ask. I'd have made you my apprentice. I can see how similar we are. Chip told me so much about you."
"First of all, it's Tiffany May. Second, Chip barely knew me. I was just his kid's friend." She taps the steering wheel in front of her. "Third, the 'wanting your research' was incidental. All of this is because Kepler stole a golf cart. I just have a habit of... collecting the research of horrible men. Like Dr. Garber. Like you."
He shakes his head and sighs. "Absolutely. Of course. I mean, what else would you want the notes of the world's greatest living necromancer other than for a collection! And you'd be surprised, Tiffany May, just how much Chip Winger knew. Yes, the man was egotistical and loved to talk about himself, but he was such a brilliant magician. Wizard? I don't know. Chip was my mentor in some regards. The dumb bastard, though. Got too greedy, didn't he? Should have never shown him the Other Beings."
"How affiliated with the Order of the Way Through are you?"
"I mean, my dear, come on.." He clicks his tongue, head shaking again.
"Do you really think I don't know about that little group of rich boys playing at magic? Sure, their roots go back. Way back. But now? It's a magical Masonic Order."
Tiff nods like she gets it. "Just like the Mormons."
Boris raises an eyebrow at Tiff. "The Mormons are magical? Huh."
"No, no— Masonic. The Salt Lake temple is covered in symbols. It was a dumb joke, but you'll have to forgive me. I have no blood in my body."
He nods. "Yes. That's what this was all about—originally, anyway,. Isn't that what guys like me always want? Scary sorcerers looking for eternal life? Yes. Cliche, but I was close. So close. Well, we were close. If I could have only harnessed your life force. Oh, what could have been, Tiffany May. What we could have accomplished. Now look at me. Dickless, drained of magic. Yep. That stunt at the hotel was all I had left. So! When do we do this whole death thing?"
She rolls her eyes, alarm bells in the back of her head pealing over the sound of some Bikini Kill deep pull. "Let's try it again with the whole truth this time."
Boris sighs. "You're too good. While it's true that I am tapped out for magic. There's really a good reason for that. And I don't believe I am going to tell you."
She faux-pouts. "Come on, Borrie! I'll tell you something juicy if you'll tell me."
He laughs and puts his arms behind his head like he's simply lounging and chatting with an old friend. "Juicy? Wow. I'll tell you what, I've got nothing to lose now. For one, I set the house on fire. Secondly, I cursed myself. Yep. I'm going to die soon. That took all I had left in me. Your Black Robe bosses aren't going to have the satisfaction of even having my body. Now it's your turn."
There goes her hopes about research. It's hard to care when your heart has stopped beating. "You cursed yourself?"
Boris smirks. "I did. Remember how I told you I was a natural conduit for the Other Beings? I made a bargain. They get to claim me. I will become one of them. How fun for me!"
Incapable of mustering up a single emotion, she just looks at him. "Get out of the car."
He raises an eyebrow at Tiff. "What? Don't want to see me get sucked into another realm? I'll make a show of it! I'll go kicking and screaming. Oooh, you could even make a TikTok out of it."
"I don't care. I don't use TikTok. Get out of the car."
"No."
"Get out of the car or I'll bite your nose off."
Boris crosses his arms like a petulant child. "Nope."
That settles it, then. Tiff unbuckles herself, puts one knee on the middle console by way of turning, and puts her face close to his. She misses, slips, and smacks her cheek on the window instead. This would be so embarrassing if she were capable of that right now.
She props herself up on one elbow, laying across both him and a very upset Kepler. "That was a warning."
Laughing hysterically at Tiff's blunder, Boris slaps his knee. "You know what? Sure. Why not? If I didn't know I couldn't kill you, I'd have tried to break your neck just now, by the way. Anyway, could you get off so I can get out?"
She opens the door and topples out first so she can go get back in the car and be normal. There's no real point to belaboring any of it.
Boris carefully got out of the car and took a deep breath. "The Canadian wilderness truly is a splendid place. So fresh, so clean! Before we do anything wild like strangling me with my own intestines or whatever wild thing you've got cooked up, I'd like to give you a gift. Well, more of a trade secret."
She pauses with her hand on the driver's-side door. "What. What is it."
He smiles at her. "Ah, there's that wicked curiosity people like us can never ignore."
"I'd say I'm nothing like you, but we both know that's not true."
"The pursuit of knowledge is quite the driving force. But yes, the gift! I'd like to give you access to the pocket dimension."
"Meaning?"
The necromancer's eyes were shining with mirth. "Meaning? Well, just that. I am going to give you the secret to my order's pocket dimension. It's very protected."
"What is it? Could you stop being cryptic? I don't have time for this."
Leaning against a tree, he nods. "You're absolutely right. There isn't much time, actually. I can hear them inside my head, calling to me. It's only a matter of time before I'm done. Obviously, you know how portaling works, at least enough to brute force one open. Now, to do what I do, it'll take more finesse—"
"You think I can't finesse?"
"I watched you fall down the stairs before you operated on me. But I digress. It requires finesse and a contract. Now like the one I made to kill myself, but you're going to need to provide the realm in which this dimension exists something. You must pay a price. As we all have. It demands fresh life energy. Death. A ritual. Just once. But you must give it what it wants or you will not be able to summon an opening yourself."
"If the price is killing someone, no thanks. I can just reconstruct the ray gun."
"The price is life energy. You know what necromancy requires. But I haven't mentioned the best part, Tiffany May! It'll be safe from the upcoming fracturing. I think, anyway."
She sighs. "What does that mean?"
"My dear girl, why do you think I've come out of hiding? I had to speed up my progress and make sure I could survive. There is something wrong. I can hear the anticipation from the Other Beings. I can feel it in the magic I possess. It's only just starting, but it will pick up speed. I don't know what has caused this or what the outcome will be, but the veil between worlds is eroding. All of them. And I don't need to tell you what lurks behind some of those veils."
"Yeah. More Mormons." She rolls her eyes. "Will you put it into normal words? Whatever it is that you're saying?"
"You are a brat, you know that?"
"You and my mother agree," she deadpans. "Thanks."
He ignores that. "Lake Wonder is a hotbed for magical and supernatural activity, as you're well aware. It is, as far as I understand, a hub for many different realms. There are others, of course, but this one is particularly strong. It's why Chip chose to return. Still, there are rules, there are barriers, and it is not easy to access these other realms at the best of times. The Elves feared this magic, outlawed it, kept the secret of it locked away in the silly little Order Chip infiltrated. All of that exists as a natural order of keeping things where they should be. That is breaking down. And if it does... Well, who knows what will happen? I won't really be around to find out. Maybe you can stop it, maybe you can't, but I couldn't care less."
"Of course you couldn't. You're about to die." She sighs. She should just get in the car and leave, but she has to ask, "How do I get into the pocket dimension?"
Boris opens his mouth to say something, but doubles over in pain instead. He clutches at his chest. "Oh, God. These fuckers are merciless. It's not long now."
Panting, Boris grimaces as he straightens himself. His words come out strained, pained. "It's... easy enough to show you... the runes. Give me a knife... please."
"I don't have a knife," she lies. (It's in her pocket.) "I don't have anything. You took it to the Bone Zone, remember?"
His laugh comes out in wheezing gasps. "Right. Bone Zone? Of... course that's... what you'd call..."
Boris drops to a knee, crying out. He scrabbles around on the ground until his hands close on a sturdy stick with a jagged, pointed end from where it broke off a nearby tree. He jabs it into his hand, reopening the wound from earlier, and squeezes until he gets the blood he needs. On his hands and knees, he smears the dirt-stained blood on the maroon paint of the side of the car. The final symbol is barely legible.
"You could have asked for a marker, you know."
"You have— You have a marker, but not—" Another spasm runs through his abdomen. "Not a knife?"
"I have one of those, too. I'm just not giving it to you."
He screams; he screams longer, louder; he writhes on the rain-soaked forest floor.
She just looks down at him. "Dying is easy. Stop being such a little bitch about it."
Looking at Tiff, he smiled with blood coming from his mouth. "I'm not exactly dying."
A strange popping of Tiff's ear, as if the pressure around her was changing as Boris's body began folding in on itself. With one last scream, the necromancer disappears without much else except for the pressure around Tiff going back to normal. Silence.
She resents him. Mostly, right now, it's for the inconvenience of writing on a maroon car with blood. "Kepler," she sighs, "I need a flashlight."
He squeaks like a car alarm and brings one from the floor of the car to her. He holds it in his mouth while his feet run through the mud where Boris Covington used to be. She shines it obliquely on the side of the car and takes a picture.
What was the price? She'll have to find out three days from now, when the world is brighter. She doesn't have much of a choice in the matter.
Tiff gets back in the car. She supposes she just has to go back to the hotel now. The threat is gone. The aftermath isn't.