Chapter Twelve

Kitty begged, “You have to send me a copy of that.”

Mr. E let out a low growl.

“Um, I really don’t think he wants me to share it. This image of the kitty riding along on the head of your ram will have to remain a myth or legend.”

She stroked the embroidery of the grey Death Keeper robes.

Kitty glanced over without swerving. “Do you really like them?”

“I love them. They are gorgeous and far better than what I had in mind. I am humbled by the effort that your family and the pack put into it.”

“I think we have been given adjunct pack status. Now that everything is out in the open and a community has been forged, they are going to be nice and reliable neighbours.” There was smug confidence in her tone.

“I still can’t thank you enough for these robes. At least I will look somewhat official tomorrow night.”

“I really want to see you give that talk to the Guides.”

“You just got to witness the practice version. I am just wondering if I can make it plain-spoken enough to get it through to the kids.”

“I am sure that you will be fine. What do you think Eckoak is going to have for us tomorrow?”

“With my luck, something involving precipitation.” Imara grinned.

“Oh lord, not snow. I really hate snow.” Kitty grumbled.

“Ladies, today we are working on snow. You have to combine wind, cold air, water, and cloud density. When you make seven snowflakes, you can go.”

Imara wrinkled her nose and looked at the black fabric on the ground around her. Kitty was across the practice area and on the same type of cover.

Imara smiled. “Last one to do it buys the burgers.”

The challenge was on.

Rain, sleet, fog, they all came easy. Snow was more delicate.

Imara stood still and raised her hands as if lifting the cold air mass to the cloud cover she had managed. She pushed it up slowly, and the thick fog swirled. It moved in a slow twist, and soon, a single white object fluttered to the ground. Imara ignored it and kept going, using up the fog until the ground around her was covered with snow.

“Mirrin, you are dismissed. Go get some hot chocolate. I set up a carafe in the antechamber.”

Imara was shivering and she nodded, heading off to the promise of hot sugar.

When she cupped the hot mug in her hands, she returned to the classroom and watched as Kitty found the move that worked for her. She used cold air into a rain cloud, but the result was the same.

One by one, small flakes separated from the cloud mass and drifted down to the black flooring.

“Good job, Deegle. Get your hot chocolate, and see you at the next class.”

Kitty stumbled off the practice area, and Imara caught her, helping her out and to her own cup of hot chocolate.

“How long were we working on that?”

“Four hours?”

“Damn. That was intense. Do you wonder what our marks are?”

“Nope. This is pass or fail. Anything else is just annoying.” Imara waited until they had both finished their beverages before she got her bag and Mr. E.

“Come on, Kitty, you are buying lunch.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kitty laughed as they headed up on the lift.

Out in the sun, Kitty asked a question that she had obviously been mulling over. “So, you really aren’t sleeping with Argus?”

“No, I am really not. We agree that he is mine and I am his, but no shenanigans of that nature until after I have my commercial magic license.”

“Why wait? Why not just jump him after school is done?”

“Because of the contamination testing.”

Kitty looked blank. “What?”

“If they feel you have been compromised by someone who isn’t a mage, they can deny your license. It doesn’t matter if he or she isn’t an influence on you, they still can show up as a contamination of your magic. Having a lover from the extra-natural population who isn’t a mage is enough of a factor to deny the initial license. After that, it doesn’t matter.”

Kitty blinked. “I didn’t know that.”

“They don’t advertise it, but the Death Keepers have a lot of notes regarding membership in the Mage Guild. If you want, I can show you some of the early documentation. Reegar has it in his library.”

“That would be wonderful. I confess that I saw those tomes and I started drooling.”

Imara laughed. “It happens to us all.”

They headed off and had their lunch, with Kitty only mentioning dealing with the Mage Guides twice.

The day was definitely not over.

Imara came out of the change room at the spectre repository, and she was wearing her new Master’s robes. The charcoal-coloured fabric was embroidered with dark pewter designs that denoted her rank and her occupation.

Master Wylkinson was manning the desk, and he whistled softly when she emerged with Mr. E on her shoulder. “Those are some great robes.”

“Thank you. They were a gift from a friend.” She turned and looked toward the door. Lights were beginning to enter the parking lot, and there were quite a few more than she was expecting.

“Are you all right to handle the crowd?”

“I am. Do you have a map of whom I can disturb?”

“All the alert spectres are eager to have visitors. Those who are not alert are indifferent.” He shrugged, paused, and cleared his throat. “May I watch?”

“Oh, of course. I am just going to go out and greet the troupe.”

“Wait a moment until their Guild Master has them under control. Once they are attentive and focused, make your entrance.”

She took one of the staffs with the lamp, and she waited in the shadows of the doorway. When the Guide Master had gathered forty people, Imara verified that her watch was correct, and she stepped out with her hood up.

The crowd stirred nervously when she approached, but when she lifted her chin and smiled in the friendliest manner she could manage, a few of the parents exhaled in relief.

“Guide Master, allow me to introduce myself. I am Master Death Keeper, Imara Mirrin. The local Death Keeper, Master Wylkinson, has allowed me to take you on an exploration of his grounds, and we will be able to meet a few of your ancestors in the process.”

She looked to the serious little girls in front, all wearing their little uniforms with the blaze of fire on their shoulder. “Guides, how many of you are a little nervous about being here tonight?”

A few small hands went up.

“Good. Being honest is important. Now, who knows what a spectre is?”

One girl shot her hand into the air and answered before Imara could call on her. “They are the souls of dead mages.”

“That is a common thought. What spectres are is an imprint of the magic left behind when there is no mage to control it. I will give you an example. Guides, who among you have a computer with photos on it?”

Eight of the nine girls raised their hands.

“Well, what happens if your computer breaks down? What happens to the files?”

One of the girls raised her hand.

“Yes?”

“My brother knocked a soda into the family computer, and we had to send it away to be fixed, but the information was gone. We got the pictures back, though.”

Imara smiled. “Excellent example. In this case, the mage’s body is the computer. It holds all the memory of everything it has ever done. When it was broken, the memory was gone, but the cloud and other information storage sites were able to help you put the data back together. Right?”

The little girl nodded.

“That is what a spectre is. It isn’t the original; it is a log of all the information and experiences. It can’t make a new opinion, and it can’t change personalities. It is just a copy of the old information.” She nodded toward the stones in the distance. “They are not scary; they are the information printed into magic. No more, no less. Now, as for Death Keepers, what we do is we talk to the spectres, and using our magic, we can take those copies and let them inch into our current world. We can let strangers talk to them, let their families talk to them, and we wake them up so that they don’t end when their soul has passed.”

One of the girls had her hand up.

“Yes?”

“My grandpa died last year, and he is here. Can he talk to me?”

“Yes. If you want him to. That is another part of the job of the Death Keeper. If you don’t want to talk to the spectre, we can make them stop.”

The little girl nodded with wide eyes.

“Now, as part of the introduction to Death Keepers, I will explain the clothing.”

She extended her arms. “As far back as mage records go, Death Keepers have worn the long robes in the repositories. The spectres expect us to look like this, so it makes communication easier. You know that Guild Officers dress like Guild Officers, and bakers dress like bakers. You expect a uniform and you need to see it. As I have mentioned, spectres are not capable of learning on their own, this is one of the reasons for the uniform. Now, the staff and the lamp. That one is easy, can anyone guess?”

One of the girls shot her hand up. “You work in the dark?”

“That is correct. While you can address a spectre during the day, they are harder to see. The magic of the Death Keepers makes the spectres glow, and when they glow, we can see them. Night makes it easier to see them.”

She looked to the adults, “Now, does anyone have any questions before we go for our little walk?”

One of the fathers looked at her with a grim expression. “Why are you called Death Keepers if the spectres aren’t souls?”

“Because the spectres are removed after death. They can’t be pulled while someone is alive by the average Death Keeper. Also, in the old days, the distinction was as fuzzy as it is today. No one made a distinction between a ghost and a spectre. Ghosts are trapped souls; spectres are chatty magic exclusive to mages.”

A woman blurted her question, “Why is it so expensive?”

Imara had been waiting for that question. “Since so few mages have themselves tested for death affinity, it is an in-demand occupation. The spell work required is taxing, and few Death Keepers can comfortably create a spectre or a holding stone. It is a draining process that needs more respect. Nocturnal vultures is a common epithet, but we show up night after night and let folks talk to loved ones, recover everything from family spells to favourite recipes. We keep the dead company and comfort the living. That is why it is so expensive; you are literally buying a portion of our lives.” She smiled brightly. “Now, let’s go on into the repository, and I will explain the security features.”

Two hours of the gathered Guides and their families talking to the spectres and even the Guide Master tearing up as she spoke to her great-grandmother left Imara tired. Mr. E purred against her neck, and he kept her calm while she shook hands with all of the visitors and got a surprise hug from the Guide Master.

When the cars were gone, she turned back to Master Wylkinson. “Thank you for that. If we can manage one recruit out of that batch, I would be over the moon.”

He was staring at her. “Do you want a job here? Seriously. You can have my job. Those spectres are more alive than they have been in decades.”

She rubbed at her forehead and headed back to the office. “Nope. I have my own plan, and it doesn’t involve working nights all the time.”

“What is your plan?”

“Spectral consulting. I will gladly come here and supercharge your facility, but the guild will have to pay.” She grimaced and put the lamp back in its holder.

Master Wylkinson paused for a moment, and then, he smiled. “When you open your office, send me your card. This is a service I would gladly charge folks extra for.”

She laughed. “I will. Should be late next year if the Mage Guild grants me the license.”

“I look forward to the card in the mail, or if you want to bring more Mage Guides here, you can come anytime.” He bowed.

She sighed. “You think I did okay?”

“I think that you made Death Keeping accessible and understandable. The spectres you bolstered were delighted for the added energy, and their families have made appointments to return in the next few days.”

“Good. The effect should last anywhere from a week to a month.”

“Thanks. I am sorry I was so rude on the phone.”

She smiled and pulled her hood back. “No problem. We usually work with the dead, after all.”

He laughed and extended his hand. “It is a situation I will change the moment you are available again.”

Imara grinned and shook his hand. All in all, it was a good night for her reference page.