Negotiation

Marcy phoned the clinic the next morning and asked to speak to Jeremy. Once she had explained who was calling she was put through to him without further questions. She put the phone on speaker so I could listen in.

'Jeremy Blyth here.'

'How are you, Jeremy,' Marcy trilled in a most un-Marcy-like way. 'Well, I hope. This is, Marcy, here, Marcy Nix. We met at some function or other, or was it a conference? I forget which. Do you remember?'

'It was the meeting in which the CSC refused to give me backing for my research.' Jeremy's voice had an edge to it and I had the feeling he was holding back on a much less neutral answer.

'Yes, that was it, I remember now. Shame. Anyway, I have been asked to phone you to speak about Grace and the possibility of an exchange, of, well, people.'

'I see. Do you have Grace safe?'

'Oh, yes. She is quite safe.'

'I would like to speak to her to confirm that,' Jeremy said.

Marcy shot me a quick glance reminding me to remain quiet. 'Of course. Of course. As would we. I mean we would like to speak to Geoff, Carly and I believe Meredith?'

'That is not possible right now.'

'No. I understand. But as we too have to arrange for Grace to be at a phone perhaps we could arrange that for, say, tomorrow? Same time as today? That way we can all be satisfied this will work in everyone's best interests. What do you think?'

'I think that can be arranged, Marcy. I'm sure it will be a relief to us all to get this sorted out.'

'Oh, yes, indeed. Very well, until tomorrow. Goodbye.'

Marcy hung up the phone. I couldn't help my raised eyebrows.

'It never does any harm to hide your light under a bushel on occasion.' She obviously saw my confusion because she added, 'He may or may not know much about me. Of my abilities, I mean, and my strengths and weaknesses but, in my book, it does no harm to keep potential enemies wrong-footed about what you are capable of. Let him think I am an air-head, a silly scatter-brain of a non-entity if he wants. If he does so much the better. If he doesn't,' she shrugged, 'it was worth the try.'

I grinned. 'I think that boat has sailed as far as I am concerned.'

'Only with him, and a few favored friends,' she added. 'Don't forget that. Keep the true extent of your abilities under your hat. So endeth the first lesson of the today.'

'Lunch?' I asked.

'Why not, and we will have to have a game plan for the rest of the day. There are basic things you ought to know about our abilities. Not only what is possible but what is acceptable and unacceptable behavior not only for necromancy but also in the supernatural world.'

As we sat at the table eating egg and bacon bagels I said, 'So what is the most all-time big no-no for a necromancer. You know, before I do it by mistake and am permanently ostracised.'

She snorted. 'I'm not sure even you could do it by mistake, Grace. It takes a great deal of focus and power to pull it off. Not that most of us would want to. It is an incredibly cruel thing to do.'

'Oh?'

She wiped the tomato ketchup from the corner of her mouth and took her plate to the drainer.'

'We communicate with the dead, right?'

I nodded, taking my plate to join hers then sat back at the bench and picked up my coffee.

'That is we communicate to the spirit of the dead.'

'Or in some cases try desperately to avoid communicating with them.'

'That too,' she smiled, 'though in your case I am very proud of how you have grown these past few days. So as I was saying, we commune with the spirits of the dead. Some have died many years ago, in another era sometimes. Some quite recently like your Michael.'

My Michael. The phrase drew my attention for a moment and I was surprised to realize that I was not resentful of the term. I searched my feelings and came up with the word 'proprietorial'. Not the best word I thought as I wasn't sure how Michael would feel about being thought of as property but it was the best I could come up with. Besides. I didn't for a minute think of him as my property, just, well, mine.

'What? I said. 'Back up a bit I missed that.'

'I was saying many people, even other supernaturals, have a problem accepting there are spirits around us, and by us, I mean everyone, not just necromancers. Understandable I suppose as they don't have the ability to see them, talk to them and get to know them as we do. You fear what you don't understand. Yet even for us, there are those spirits you do not want to meet at any time, anywhere. The spirits we see are an accurate representation of the person in life. They don't become either good or evil just because they have left their body. It's a fair bet that if they were cruel or evil in life that is how they will present in spirit. There are ways to protect yourself and others from them I intend to show you. But I am getting sidetracked.

'You ask the most heinous thing you can do as a necromancer? Well, the one unforgivable act is to reunite a spirit with its body. That is the most despicable, cruel, and horrendous act of betrayal any necromancer could perform. There would have to be a very good reason and the spirits are released quickly and not trapped there forever to make the act even remotely tolerated.'

'Reunite? You mean show them...'

'No. Not show them. Return them. Push the spirit back into its one-time body.'

'We can do that?'

'Oh, yes. As I say it takes a great deal of focus and power but most necromancers are capable of doing it.'

'But you are talking of the recently dead. Seeing a person die and returning them to their body and life,' I said.

'I am talking about any spirit who has died at any time no matter how long ago. All you need is to be in the approximate location of what remains of the spirit's body.'

'But... but, bodies decay. They...' I couldn't say it.

'Regardless of the condition of the body. It will make no difference to the act of return. The act of reanimation. The spirit will be bound to whatever is left until you choose to release it.'

My hands came up to my mouth as I thought through the ramifications. 'Are they aware of what is happing?'

'Of course, they are, and they are aware of what you are returning them to. They were humans once and retain the same natural aversion to decaying bodies. The same instinct to avoid them at all costs. But their very essence is being forced back into and being absorbed by their disintegrating flesh.'

'Oh my god. Why would anyone do such a thing? It's...' I could not find the word to describe how horrified I was.

'Yet it happens. There are those involved with what is commonly called the Dark Arts. People who draw power from the negative side of the supernatural.'

'Negative side?'

'Everything consists of light and dark. Good and bad. Negative and positive. Nothing is one thing or the other. What you chose to access defines what you are in life and, as I say, in death. A little thing like death will not change you. We aim to stay in the light or 'positive' side of our magic. The witches often call themselves White Witches. Or Black Witches. The majority of us, regardless of gift, talent or ability aim to stay 'white'. But this one act is not taken lightly by anyone. For the spirit, a being of light, being forced back into a body that it no longer belongs in is literally hell on Earth.'

'But people still do it?'

'I have heard of it happening. For whatever reason.'

I was appalled.

'You asked the most heinous thing you could do,' she shrugged. 'That is it.'

'I'll bear it in mind,' I said weakly.

The rest of the day was spent strengthening my control. Marcy took me back to the park where I had first met Michael. As usual, he was in attendance as were the usual hangers-on. Again and again, Marcy had me lower my shield and then reassemble it. Each time it was down for longer.

'You need to raise or lower it in an instant. And you can't keep your shield up twenty-four hours a day. You have to use your other defenses. You have a curtain?'

'Yes.' I said in surprise. I had never told anyone about the curtain I keep erected in my mind.

'Good. At least you know about that but you must learn to extend it, to use it for the more determined ghosts.'

'How?'

'Everyone is different. Try drawing it in a circle and putting yourself inside. Or draw a curtain around the object you want out of your sphere. You'll find a way now you know it can be adapted.'

'I will?' I said less than convinced.

'Just follow your instincts. They rarely see you wrong.'

'I don't know. They weren't so hot when they got me into this mess.'

'But look what you have gained. Everything happens for a reason.'

I looked at her in disbelief.

She laughed. 'We all have off days. Just chalk it down to that.'

'Ready?' Marcy asked the next morning.

'As I'll ever be.'

'Right let's get this over with.'

She picked up the phone and dialed the number for the clinic and put the phone on speaker.

'Jeremy Blythe here.'

'Good morning, Jeremy, Marcy here.'

'Do you have her?'

'Grace you mean? Yes of course. That was the plan.'

'Let me speak to her.'

'And do you have Meredith and the others with you?'

There was a pause then Jeremy said, 'They are here now.'

Marcy raised her eyebrows at me and I nodded. I had felt no deception in Jeremy's voice.

'Good, then feel free to speak to Grace.'

'Grace, good to know you're safe. Are you ready to come back to us as Miss Nix has indicated?'

'If I have the chance to speak to your prisoners first.'

'Such an unpleasant term. And not one we use here as you know.'

'However, you want to term it they are not there because they want to be. Now, will you let them speak to me?'

After another pause, a man's voice, a stranger's voice said hello? Marcy?'

'It's Grace Doyle here. Will you tell me your name?'

'Dorling. Geoff Dorling, Chairman of the CSC.'

'Are you well, Mr Dorling?'

'That's not a question I could say yes to and be truthful. I have felt better, believe me.'

'I do,' I said nodding to Marcy. 'Who else is with you?'

'I am,' the voice was female, young and full of attitude.'

'And you are?'

'I'm Carly Dalewood and if I don't get out of here soon they are going to be really sorry.'

I smiled. 'Not be long now, Carly. Just remain patient a little longer.' She answered with a loud huffing snort.

'Meredith are you there?'

I held my breath as the silence lengthened.

I heard Jeremy's voice in the background saying, 'Now, now, Meredith, no need to be obstinate. A friend is worried about you. Look at me, Meredith, look at me. Now, say hello to Grace like a good girl.'

I knew he was using his mind trick on her and was unsurprised when I heard Meredith say, 'Hello, Grace.'

Her voice was flat, mechanical, and seemed disconnected. As if she was no longer aware she was speaking.

'Tell me your name,' I asked.

'My...my name?'

'Yes. Who are you?'

'I'm, Meredith Jensen. And you?'

She had switched to autopilot. As if she were reading from a script from her past, from one of her many interviews.

'I'm, Grace Doyle, your friend from school. Do you remember me?'

'Grace? Grace.' Suddenly she began to babble, 'Grace. Oh, Grace, I'm sorry, so sorry. You have got to...'

'Now, Meredith. I think that will be enough for now.' I heard Meredith's voice receding into the background as if she was been taken away from the phone or it was being removed from her.

'So, Miss Nix, are you satisfied? All are present and correct as you see.'

Marcy looked at me and I nodded.

'It seems so,' Marcy said, 'though I think poor Meredith sounded a little, well, distracted, to be frank.'

'She has not been too well but we are taking excellent care of her. And I too am satisfied that Grace has decided to return now I propose...'

'We have a plan, Jeremy,' Marcy said and her girlie voice had just a touch of determination in it. 'We will meet, I think, at the London Eye the day after tomorrow at, what, shall we say ten in the morning? Will that suit?'

We had decided on the venue as it was both a very public place and far enough away from both the clinic and Marcy's home to make it neutral ground.

'I must be honest I believe it would be easier if you simply brought Grace to the clinic.'

'You must understand our reluctance to do that, Jeremy. The CSC can't be seen, shall we say, supporting the CSC under these circumstances.'

I heard the briskness of irritation in Jeremy's voice as he said, 'Very well the London Eye, ten AM. But I insist it is tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow? Oh, I'm not sure that will be...'

'Tomorrow. Or I will not be responsible for the health of that young girl.'

Marcy's eyes were alarmed as she looked at me mouthing 'tomorrow?' I shrugged and nodded.

Jeremy pressed his point. 'You heard how she is, typical for the breed I'm afraid. She is quite a handful. We will be very pleased to be rid of her one way or the other.'

'Tomorrow,' I said. Marcy shook her head vigorously at me. 'We will meet you at ten in the morning but I warn you, Jeremy, they had better be alive and healthy.'

'Good. You know of course, that Meredith will remain at the clinic for the duration of your stay.'

'Yes, I know.'

'Good. We will meet again tomorrow.' Jeremy broke the connection.

Marcy threw her hands into the air and stormed across the room. 'Tomorrow?' she whirled to face me. 'We agreed we needed another day at least.'

'I couldn't see any point in putting that girl's life in danger for the sake of one day. I could hear it in her voice. She is very near breaking point.'

'But Brent has to work on his change. What if you need him and he isn't ready?'

'We will have to do the best we can. It might even be for the best once we know which guards are closest to me. I can send Michael to let you know which guard is the best one to copy. I'm sure we can think of something. I can hang on for an extra day if that's what it takes.'

'You don't know that. You don't know what they will do when they get you in there. You may need out virtually immediately. You. Don't. Know!'

I got up and took her hand in mine stilling her agitated pacing. 'I realize that. But it's a risk I am willing to take. That I want to take. What's one day if it keeps those people safe. If I'm going back I may as well get it over with.'

She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. 'I hope you're right.'

I nodded. 'Come on, let's tell Michael of the change of plan.'

'And then, Brent,' Marcy said. 'He is not going to be happy.'

We met Michael beyond the barrier and as we walked I outlined the part he would play in our bargain.

'Wait, you mean the Blyth's Clinic?' he asked. 'Meridian Clinic?'

'Yes. You know it?'

'They were, that is they are one of CP's top clients.'

'CP?.'

'Custom Pharmaceuticals. It was my father's company and it passed to me on his retirement.'

I was staring at him mouth open. 'Why didn't you say something?'

'Say what? You wanted to get your problems out of the way before you solved mine. The clinic, I thought, was part of my story.'

'You must have heard us mention the clinic and what was going on?'

'How? You keep me locked out behind that damn barrier most of the time. I can't get closer to you than the end of the street until you decide to come speak to me. You have never really confided anything to me until now.'

Marcy waved her hand between us. 'Let's not fall out over this. All this means is we are better positioned to help one another. So, Michael, how well do you know the clinic?'

'The building? I don't. I've never been there. Our sales reps deal with that sort of thing. I have met the Blyth's however at various functions.'

'Jeremy?' I asked

'Yes. And once, Pippa. It was their mother, Tina, who did the most of the networking though. The other two seemed very much in her shadow.'

'So I've heard.'

'And you say you are going back there?'

'Yes.'

'I thought it was some sort of psychiatric clinic.'

'It is, in a way, but not the way you're thinking. It is tied up with the supernatural community and its... residents, are mostly, or maybe mostly I suppose, supernaturals.'

'What?'

We had reached the park and Marcy waved us to a bench. 'This might take a bit of explaining,' she said. 'Why don't we sit down.'

By the time we had filled Michael in on the basics of the supernaturals living quietly in the world, along with his role in our bargain, it was getting late.

'So are you all clear?' Marcy asked again.

'Yes, yes. All clear.' But there were deep frown lines between his eyes.

'Did you believe in ghosts before you were one?' I asked.

'I was on the fence.'

'Well, now you know. So just accept there are things that until now, you had no knowledge of.'

He shook his head. 'No, you misunderstand. It's not that I never thought about it. I did. It used to be a bit of a hobby of mine. It's just that finding out all the things I only half-believed is merely the beginning of what is really going on in the world is taking some getting used to. But I'll get there.'

Marcy grinned at me. 'Now to speak to Brent. I can only hope he's as understanding.'