Today it was Judge Sinclair, a dour woman who kept pictures of her cats on her desk. All twelve of them. I couldn’t quite tell what she was, but the sickly green undertone to her skin told me she was probably one of the undead. I’d never been able to place her scent, though, so she definitely wasn’t a vamp or a ghoul. After my experience with Hank the other day, there was no way I was going to ask her,either.
This morning’s session was going to be brutal, I could already tell. The man I had to raise was a seventy something father of four named Martin Klink. His first wife and mother of his children, had been deceased for ten years. In his loneliness, Martin decided to use the local escort service to find himself a companion. His children could see the coming train wreck from a mile away, yet warnings to their father resulted in disapproval and eventual disinheritance. Or so his new wife said. I was here today to get the final truth about the will and whether or not Mr. Klink wanted his kids excluded. Grandkids too. According to his children, less than two days after his death, Mrs. Klink swooped down like a harpy and began throwing wads of dough at everything and everyone except for hiskids.
The new Mrs. Clink had a body built by Mattel. All odd proportions that only made sense on Barbie’s, but made men everywhere drool. I still couldn’t fathom how the woman didn’t topple over when she stood up. She was so top heavy her pink, lacy shirt constrained against its bonds. They were so large, you could barely tell she had a waist and as she walked, it was like they came to life, swaying back and forth even through the fabric of what had to be a custom fitbra.
Martin Klink had died of a heart attack, and if it had anything to do with those boobs, I could say I was not surprised. I felt like hyperventilating when those things swung too close tome.
But that was not the only thing about Mrs. Klink that was larger than life. She spoke in a hard to understand whisper and lisped certain words because her lips were so overpumped she couldn’t pronounce half of what she was saying correctly. To make it worse, she also affected what had to be a fake British accent so everything that had the letters “ar” came out as “ah” which mean every time she said Martin, it was drawled out as Maaahhhtin, which made his adult children close their eyes for a moment and take a deepbreath.
If it wasn’t so sad, it would becomical.
Mrs. Klink had hair the color of newly fallen snow which, according to the records the kids had given me, cost as much as a car payment each month to maintain. This in addition to her eyelash inserts, her gel nails, pedicures, Botox, lip injections, and doctor’s appointments to ensure her implants were stillstable.
I chewed on the side of my lip. The kids were asking for their father to be raised so they could be sure once and for all that he meant to leave his estate to the woman their father had married. They were asking for nothing other than thetruth.
When I referred to her as their stepmom, one of the children hissed at me like they were feral, so I’d taken to calling her merely Mrs. Klink. Even that name got their eyes to twitching. She was blowing through their father’s estate with the speed of a Cat 5 hurricane, thus the reason for this short noticeraising.
The judge began to speak, reciting the facts of the case, and all the pertinent details while I studied the remains of Mr. Klink. He was surprisingly well preserved for someone who had died over six months ago. It would make the raising easier. I had my notepad, my recorder, and my bag full of necessary materials. Once the judge finished speaking, everyone would pile out so I could work. It was in my contract that no one could watch me perform the spell that brought the dead back tolife.
It wasn’t exactly a spell, but it was the easiest way to explain what Idid.
Once both parties were sworn in, the judge ordered everyone to clear the room. She stood, the scent of cat litter wafting about her, and brushed past me. My nose wrinkled at the smell, but I merely acknowledged her with a nod. Once the door shut behind me, I let out a deep breath and got towork.
Raising the dead had once required everything from me. It had exhausted my magic, caused me to have migraines, and depleted my energy for the rest of theday.
It was different now. Years of honed study resulted in near perfect focus. I could do several raisings in a day now, though my limit was about five. After that, the feel of the grave became too much and I felt the darkness start to pull meunder.
I removed the sheet covering the rest of Mr. Klink’s body, carefully avoiding looking at the parts I never wanted to see on a senior citizen. I studied him from head to toe, noting any areas that were decomposing too quickly. Once I finished with that, I studied the picture his kids had given me. For me, necromancy was a combination of science and magic and, yet, sometimes it felt strangely like plastic surgery. Mrs. Klink’s enormous appendages danced in my thoughts and I quickly shut the imagesdown.
I did not want Mr. Klink to wake up from the dead with giantboobs.
I pulled out several white candles from my bag and set them around the table he rested on, one about every 6-8 inches or so. After that I pulled out my sage wand, lit it, and blew out the flame, Sweet, herbal smoke filtered through the room. I let it sink into my lungs, and I exhaled, purified from the inside. I waved the wand around my body paying careful attention to the areas where an angry spirit could slip in and possess me. His family and friends were safe, but I was not. Even though I controlled the dead, mistakes could be made. So in addition to wearing an anti-possession charm one of the Comey sisters had made for me, I ensured I saged before every ritual. Terrifying as the Comey’s were, they knew how to handle powerful magic. I fingered the obsidian teardrop resting against my chest as I walked around the room, clockwise, ensuring the purifying smoke of the sage made it into all the nooks and crannies of the room. Last, I allowed the smoke to whip and curl around Mr. Klink’s body for a moment before I stubbed out the sagewand.
“All right, Mr. Klink,” I murmured, “let’s see if you’re more intelligent in death than you were inlife.”
I double checked to make sure the door was locked and quickly shed my clothing. I slid a white gown over my head and slipped into a pair of silver sandals. It was easier to come dressed in the gown beforehand, but I found people took me less seriously dressed in this than when I showed up in businesscasual.
I walked over to the table and stood directly behind the top of the man’s head. I closed my eyes and began to steady my breathing. With every few beats of my heart I inhaled. Every few beats, I exhaled, until my brain had slipped into the alpha state of consciousness. With barely a thought, all of the candles surrounding Mr. Klink came to life. The light danced through the shadows of the darkened room as I began tochant.
Some magicians made up really elaborate chants as they performed magic. Some were lyrical, some were beautiful. Mine were silly. Just plain silly. And I never used the same one. I was always that girl who would change the song lyrics around to something ridiculous. Right now with the popularity ofDespacito, I couldn’t help but scream, “THIS BURRITO!” It was even funnier when I had stopped at the local Taco Bell and could point to it whilesinging.
I opened my eyes, inhaled the scent of burning sage, andrecited:
“Mr.Klink,
You big, dumb,dink,
Awake and answerquestions.
Your ridiculouswife,
Is causingstrife,
So get up and see what you paidfor.”
As raising chants went, I had to admit it wasn’t my best, but it made me snort, so I went with it. This was another reason family members weren’t welcome during the raisings. I was usually respectful, but I tended to put a personal spin on my chants, catered to eachclient.
The sheet rustled. I stepped back and gave Mr. Klink a moment. Next time I would ask the courts to make sure the bodies were clothed. You wouldn’t believe how awkward it could be to try to be professional when the man you were speaking with was both deadandnaked.
