Despite everything that had happened during the last few days, Emily’s iPod still worked. It had developed a diagonal crack across its screen but it was still fully functional. Jessie didn't mind the crack (she herself had gone through three iPods in her life already) and was snuggled in the backseat on the left hand side. Buckled in and ears plugged, she was jumping through the playlists that Emily had accumulated until she stopped on Emily’s 80s track list. Intrigued, she had pressed play sometime during the night.

  It was so warm in the car. So safe and familiar to her that she soon founded herself being lulled to a deep sleep with the music still playing. Her subconscious was filled with sound and voices. Her sleep was a kaleidoscope of sounds given visual pictures within her mind… She was lost in her sleep. And in that moment, as brief as it was for Jessie, she was happy. The pain of her parents deaths had dulled and she could allow herself a moment to enjoy the music in her ears.

  Then, at the point of time when the sun rose into a new November morning, Kirsty MacColl’s Terry danced into her ears and rallied her into a waking state.

  While Jessie blinked the sleep away from her eyes (all the while tapping her feet in beat with the music’s snares and drums), she looked around the car.

  Theo was snoring on the right side of the car.

  Emily was also asleep, curled up like herself, in the front passenger seat.

  Only Donn was awake, staring unblinking at the road ahead of them as they continued their drive north. From what she could remember from last night’s conversation, Donn had mentioned that the next soul was in a borough called Camden in North London. He had sensed the soul momentarily and then the trail went cold. It was the best they could go on, so on they went.

  Jessie was quite excited to go to London, as she had visited the capital before with her mum and dad. Her face fell as she watched the trees whip past their car. She grew sad at that memory.

  Her mum and dad were gone.

  It was hard to understand. Unbelievable to her. They had been there for her and Theo for all her life, which wasn't very long to be honest. But thirteen years was all she had to remember of them now. Jessie had remembered stories of when friends of hers had lost people close to them and after a few years, they would start to forget things about them.

  Their voices would go first. Then their features. Their faces.

  Sooner or later, anything that was important would be gone. And that would make them truly dead and gone. Jessie shuddered. She couldn't allow that to happen to their parents. She had Facebook. Her phone, safely tucked in her back pocket.

  The photo album in the boot of the car that she had begged Theo to take with them. Those were her arsenal of remembrances.

  Thinking of death in that grim moment, Jessie looked upon Donn.

  Now he was a strange man. She had that feeling about him when she first met him and Emily. But she always liked that in people. To be honest, that was what drew her to them.

  Strange people with their strange little habits.

  Charlotte had told her off one time about being too trusting of strangers. Such a trait was shared by her brother and their parents.

  But Jessie truly embraced the weirdness in her as much as one could and she was never ashamed of that. That caused her to not gain many friends. But Jessie could not give two hoots about that. Jessie smiled to herself as she watched Donn.

  How many friends does he actually have, I wonder? Just Emily? Or were the other Reapers he works with his friends? What type of life does he lead? Being a soul collector and all, gosh…

  He must be lonely.

  Emily stirred herself awake, causing Jessie to pause her music. She was in the process of taking off the earphones but she stopped herself.

  Maybe they were going to talk about secretive stuff. Things that she and Theo were not privy to. Jessie narrowed her eyes conspiratorially and remained still. She slyly glanced over to her brother and was pleased to see him awake as well and holding a subtle finger over his mouth.

  Such a sibling… he understood Jessie’s intention and so he was also eager to eavesdrop just like her. So they listened silently.

  Emily was asleep. That’s how it looked to Jessie and Theo. But in actuality, she was very alert within her mind. When they bundled into that car last night, Emily was barely holding onto her strength, having poured nearly all of it into channeling the Memento Mori coin’s power. Donn was correct of how dangerous the overuse of it would be…

  As soon as they away on the road, Emily released her grip, dropped off the face of the waking world and into the darkness of dreams.

  After a few moments of cool darkness, she awoke and found herself standing in a warm living room. It was soft coloured, but slightly off-focus like the background items in a photo. The sun was shining through. Judging from the sunlight, it was afternoon. And seated on the window sill sat Marianne. She was still dressed as Emily had first seen her on the beach. But now she was fully corporeal with colour filling her form out completely and unlike the room she was clear and focused. A soft melody of music travelled from a room that was unseen.

  Marianne turned and saw Emily.

  “Hi, Grandma.” Emily beamed with tears growing in her eyes.

  Marianne leapt from the window sill and darted for her granddaughter. They embraced and Emily folded into her grandmother’s soft embrace. Emily could smell fresh flowers and warm bread. She could feel her now. This was real to her. She didn't care if it was a dream.

  “Oh, dear. Dear dear, let me see you.” Marianna looked over Emily. She held her hands on both of Emily’s cheeks to study her face. Marianne seemed to nearly burst into tears as well.

  “Oh! The last time I saw you, you were just a little ankle-biter holding onto Amy’s legs. Now, you are a fully grown young woman. Oh!” She clasped her hands together to control herself. “Bless you for looking so beautiful.”

  Emily smiled at that. It wasn't often that she got called beautiful by someone who actually meant it.

  “Thank you, Grandma.”

  Marianne took Emily’s hand and led her to the windowsill. They sat down against the warm window and the sun that shone in.

  Marianne studied Emily’s face. “Dear. You look so tired… I must have missed out of some excitement since I last saw you.”

  “Oh yes… it was proper exciting.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But what is this place?”

  Marianne waved her hand around. “Do you like it? It was my old living room. It was in a house that face the sea in Brighton. I fashioned it from my memories.”

  “Whoa. You can do that?”

  “I can, thanks to Donn. He said he’d decided a long time ago that we souls who travel with him must travel in comfort.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  “He is a sweet thing. Shame about that mishap with his lady. I hope they can patch things up again.”

  There. Emily’s gossip radar pricked up on that. “His lady? You mean Nephthys, right? What happened?”

  Marianne raised her finger at Emily. “Oh no you don’t! You want information on that, you go right to the source, thank you very much.”

  Emily laughed and so did Marianne. It was lovely for them both to just sit there and enjoy the company that neither of them have had for many years…

  Then Marianne laid her hand on Emily’s knee and her face fell to a sense of sadness.

  “I’m so sorry for what happened to you, Emily. I had no idea that it could happen to you.”

  Emily’s face fell. “You know?”

  “Of course. Both your mother and I watched over you. And it broke our hearts to watch Fred do what he did."

  Emily leant her head against the window sill and hugged her knee to her chest.

  And she finally allowed herself to cry. All the pain and stress from the last few days and the pains from her childhood flowed out into a cry that Marianne did not stop. Marianne instead sat back allowed Emily to let out all of her anguish. When Emily was done, Marianne presented a box of tissues. Emily laughed and pulled a few sheets to wipe her nose and eyes.

  Emily sighed deeply and smiled away the pain to have a proper conversation with her grandmother.

  “How did you die, Grandma?” Emily asked, eager to move the subject away from her pain. “Mum…… she never talked about it.”

  “Interesting choice in topics, dear.”

  Emily shrugged.

  Marianna nodded sagely. “Understandable…. You mother loved me very much. I loved her very much. It was a few months after your father came to me to ask her hand. Ah…” Her face became wistful with a sense of pain in her face. “He was a gentleman. He wore a suit that day.”

  “A suit!” Emily laughed. “Dad. Wearing a suit. I can’t believe that.”

  “He did, I tell you! He was polite and to the point. But I sidetrack. After that day, I wanted to have a moment with your mother. You see, she asked me to come see her. To see the old West pier.”

  Emily nodded as her brain worked hard to understand.

  The West Pier. She had heard about it in some general talk from tourists while on her search for her grandmother’s soul. It had burned down back in 2003. No one knew why it had burnt down. Some said it was arson. Other said it was just an unfortunate accident. All that was left was the iron girders that supported the non-existent building. Blackened by fire and rusted brown by water and air, it stood there in the lapping seawater as a totem to an era long passed by.

  Marianne smiled as she pushed the window on her side open to allow air to come in.

  “I stood by the railing, facing the sea. Right where we stood. I watched the sea. I watched the waves. It calmed me. I had always loved the ocean. The freedom it spoke of. There were children and families around me, laughing and enjoying their lives. I thought only of my daughter. She came, walking along the promenade with that jaunty stride of hers and I saw she was pregnant. Pregnant with you. I could not be happier than that moment. But it was her face that I feared. She looked saddened. Worried. I asked her what was wrong. And she confessed that she was was having second thoughts about the marriage. She was doubting herself over what she was agreed to. She asked me for advice.”

  Emily nodded. She was enraptured.

  She had known her mother for only a few years her life. She had never known her grandmother at all. Every second that had passed, she was learning more and more about her own family. She wanted more. As she learned about them, maybe she could learn something about herself? About her identity and what she belonged to?

  “Go on…” she coaxed. “What did you say?”

  “I told her to stay by him. To fulfil her word. I had stayed married to her father for fifty years. All the way till he died. He had died only two days before Amy told me that she was getting married. I held her close and told her that Fredrick loved her very much and now that she was expecting a child - you - she had an obligation to stand by her husband and raise that child.”

  Emily stared. “You told her to stay with him? After everything he did to me?”

  Marianne rubbed her hands. A gesture of shame. “This was the past. Believe me, I had no way of knowing what would transpire. But you must understand, Emily. Your father… He was a good man. He truly was.”

  Emily snorted a laugh. “I find that really hard to believe.”

  “Believe that or not, it is the truth. Your father… Before I met him, I didn't think much of Amy’s choice. From what she told me, he was a delivery man. He owned a van, he did his own work and worked for himself. Made a tidy profit and never said boo to a request. I personally thought she could do better.”

  Marianne stood up and began walking around the living room. Her eyes scanned the room and Emily, still seated on the windowsill, noticed that her grandmother’s eyes were starting to shine with water.

  “When I met him, he made a great effort to placate me. He knew that he had to win my favour if I wanted him to continue seeing my daughter. Of course, I would have been fine with whoever Amy chose, be it man or woman. Only as long as her partner treated her well. But Fred… he was raised with old fashioned qualities. He booked a table at a delightful restaurant and footed the bill afterwards. After showing such politeness and manners, he escorted us both home.”

  “Don’t see how that relates to him being a good man.” Emily interjected with a sharp tone in her voice. “Anyone can put on a smile but still be a bastard behind your back.”

  “Emily. After that first meeting, Fred did all of our deliveries. He handled problems that I couldn’t. And then came a storm that tore half the roof of this house down. Guess what he did.”

  “What?”

  “He put all of his savings into buying all the supplies needed to repair the roof and ceiling. He did all of that on his own…”

  “Huh. That doesn’t sound like him at all…” Emily was surprised. In her experience, the Fred she knew as a man who drank hard, hit hard and swore hard. A man who was greedy and uncaring. Did her mother’s death really destroy him in such a way?

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “He was a different man before Amy died… She made him better. She made him a good husband. I was proud that she snatched him when she could. I wish that you could go back in time to see them together. You’d be proud of them as well…”

  Emily furrowed her brow. “But… you said that my mum didn't love my dad? If he was so amazing, like you say, then why?”

  “Your mother was human, Emily. Like me and you. We have conflicting feelings every day that contradict what principles we promised to ourselves. So I stood my ground and reminded her that hold onto her integrity. When one loses Integrity, that person loses their purpose and their trust. Amy was your father’s integrity. Losing her must have truly destroyed him…”

  Marianne grew wistful and leant back against the rising window sill as she looked out into the sunlight.

  Emily turned her body to face Marianne, sat crossed-legged and leant forward.

  “Please, tell me more about my mum. You said that you had to convince her to stay with my dad.”

  “Yes. Most certainly. That mother of yours was a true handful. I was surmised myself with your father came with the news that he had asked for her hand and she in turn accepted it! But as I had feared, when the day loomed before her, she got cold feet.”

  Marianne lay a soft hand on Emily’s knee.

  “Listen, your mother was a saint. No one could deny that. A good woman, brave self-assured and forthcoming. But she was not perfect. No one is. You see, reliability was not her biggest strength. This was before she had you to really teach her that. She was terrified that she was going to either fail as a mother and fail as a wife. She never truly committed to anything because she was convinced she would fail before she would even start. So she then came to the conclusion that she’d prefer not to go down that road of holy matrimony at all.”

  Emily grew quiet. The lionised view of her mother and the demonised view of her father was slowly being besmirched by reality.

  She held her mother in that light that could rival stars in the night. Her mother was the angel that soothed her early years and gave Emily reason enough to love life.

  Then her father provided her the reasons to hate it.

  But her mother… she wasn't to marry her father, even though she was pregnant with his child… What would have happened to Emily if she remained single? Would her mother have given her up to be raised in the system? God, that sounded like hell…

  But she had no way in knowing what would have happened because it didn’t. Still though, the notion that her mother could’ve done that made Emily shudder.

  And then there was her father… How could he have been such a good man that he impressed a strong willed woman like Marianne? Emily began to agree with Marianne’s notion. She too wanted to travel back in time, just to see her parents happily walking the beaches of Brighton like a soppy 80s rom-com…

  Emily smiled gently. “But you stopped her. I mean, I wouldn't be here if you did.”

  Marianne nodded with a smile. “I did. A good cup of tea and biscuits, while sitting in the tiny kitchen we could afford, provided my daughter all the security she needed. I did what I could, but it was your father that performed the cherry on the cake.”

  Emily made a lop-sided grin. “Oh really… What did he do?”

  Marianne flicked her index finger towards the window, pointing it outside. “What do you think?”

  Emily looked outside and there she saw a figure in the shape of a woman standing on the walkway and facing a blurry image of a street that ran past the house.

  A van, painted in a light blue, pulled up from the fog of memory and stopped outside the front gate.

  The woman figure stood there and watched as a second figure stepped out of the van.

  Standing by Emily, Marianne narrated the event outside.

  “I stood by the window and I watched it all. He had called and asked Amy to wait outside. So we waited and watched him arrive.”

  Emily then heard a song echo quietly through the air. She recognised it instantly.

  “I heard it the song as he opened the door. How Do I Live… one of your mother’s favourite songs… I swear, Fred was an incredible romantic fool.”

  Emily widened her eyes and throw back her head in laughter.

  “Oh my god. You have to be kidding.”

  “No I am not. He pulled open the vans side door and began bringing out bouquet after bouquet of red roses to lay on the front garden at Amy’s feet. He must have driven a thirty bushels of the flowers. They covered the greenery in a deep red sea of fragrant petals. Then he walked towards Amy, got down on his knees and told her that she gave his world colour and life and he wanted to do the same, in the only way that he could…”

  Outside, the figures embraced in a deep hug and a long kiss.

  Marianne wiped her eyes from the tears that began to fall. “It had the right effect.”

  And Emily, as she observed the scene play out, let her heart flutter. That sensation… she had never felt that before… It was a warm feeling. It was a good feeling. And her eyes started to feel watery.

  Maybe that was why Emily loved music from that era. With parents so embroiled in such culture, it had to have rubbed off onto her in an indelible way.

  The scene outside faded to white, leaving just Emily and Marianne alone. Marianne sighed deeply. “And that was that. But enough on that…”

  Marianne looked past Emily, towards an antique clock that hung on the wall. “You should be heading back. You don’t want to sleep for too long.”

  Emily nodded and then gave Marianne the tightest hug she could.

  It meat more to her than anything to learn about her mother. And her father…

  This was the only person, aside from the secretive cards-close-to-his-chest Donn, who knew what Emily wanted to know. “I’ll be back, Grandma.”

  The next time Emily blinked, she was awake and suddenly reminded of a soreness upon her face.

  She was slumped down in her seat. Reaching for the button by her side, the chair pushed Emily’s beleaguered form upright.

  “Good morning…” came Donn’s voice.

  Emily glanced over to the driver’s seat. Donn was leant back in the seat and looked just as tired as she was feeling. There was a slight mania in his eyes that suggested a lack of sleep.

  Huh, do gods even need sleep? Odd.

  “So how was your rest then?” he asked.

  Emily pinched the bridge of her nose. She was still waking up and needed time to shake herself awake. And when she had enough time, she said, “I just spoke to my Grandma. Just like that. She said we were in your case. What did she mean?”

  Donn raised his eyebrows. “I did say in Brighton that you’d have enough time aplenty to talk.”

  Emily glanced down at Donn’s briefcase and her rucksack by her feet. Emily bent forward and winced at the soreness in her back. She pulled out the case and looked at it.

  “While souls are in that case,” Don explained, “one can converse with them. That requires a talisman or item of spiritual power. Which in this case is the coins we have. All one needs, if one so wishes, is to fall asleep with both the coin and case in their presence. I do not need to talk with the souls, so I do not enter the case. But you wanted to, so in you went.”

  “How does that work?”

  “Dreams… some say that dreams are the projections of the subconscious’ desires and fears. But I believe them to be a world, physical and real as this world, where the memories are the architects. So naturally the case forms into the memories of the souls there. When you slept, your soul and mind were free to travel there and stay there as long as you so wished. But since we had such an eventful night, I am surprised that you kept up the connection with the coin and case as long as you have. You pushed yourself too hard last night…”

  Donn shook his head. He was right to shake his head. It was dangerous. But what choice did she have?

  Reminded that she was beaten rather roughly, Emily decided to look upon the bad news.

  Emily pulled down the passenger sun visor to study her face in the small mirror.

  Thankfully, Emily’s nose was not swollen as she had feared, though it did nothing to impede or reduce the raw pain surrounding the tender flesh. She licked her thumb and wiped away the smudges on the glass to get a good look.

  Christ… she hardly recognised herself. The girl who stared back from the mirror pane was a stranger.

  Her eyes were bloodshot with deep, grey bags under her eyes.

  The purple bruising on and around her nose had spread to her eyes, making her deep, rest-deprived bags look like a raccoon’s mask.

  Her skin was pale and dry from travel and dehydration. She even looked more gaunt than before. And even a little older… Was that possible? Had she aged that quickly in such a short space of time? Was she that stressed or… Emily put her hand in her pocket and pulled out her Memento Mori coin out. Or… was it the coin’s doing?

  She pawed at her cheeks in an attempt to soften them up, to fill them with new blood to give off a semblance of life. But that did nothing.

  Donn sniffed harshly, to suck up the mucus accumulating in his nostrils. It was an attempt to fight an oncoming cold caused by a night of constant driving. “Don’t be worried about that.”

  “About what? That I’m getting old faster than I liked? Look, I get that time flies, but Jesus, not that fast!”

  “It’s the effect of using the Memento Coin, Emily. You’re not like me. You are not used to that power. It will take a strain on you. I warned you this would happen.”

  Emily stared at Donn. A feeling of dread crept into her bowels.

  “Hold on. Is it like eating my life or something?? Am I-?”

  “Given time… maybe… The coin uses your life’s energy to power it. Because you’re human, you have only a limited supply of such power for the coin to utilise. Whereas me, I have unlimited amounts due to my godhood.”

  “So… I need to become a god?” Emily asked with a wry smile.

  Donn snorted a laugh. “Yeah. Over my dead body.”

  The pair shared a laugh. It was nice to do that.

  Just two partners, friends really, having a good time driving northbound along the A23. It almost felt like real life to Emily.

  It’s what she would have done if she and her old London friends had the guts to follow through on one of their impulsive, cobbled-up plans to take a car and drive cross country. Back in her old life. With all she thought she had known was true… but no longer…

  “Emily.” Donn stated. “I think that I speak for the Shoals and myself when I say this… You were very brave in Brighton. Standing up to Hel like that and bargaining with her. That took serious balls. Colour me mildly impressed.”

  Emily raised an eyebrow. “Aw gee, thanks…” She looked outside her window. “Look, I only did what anyone would have if their parents were on the line.”

  In the back, Theo pursed his lips painfully. He should have done that. He shouldn’t have let Emily face the fire like that. Jessie held his hand supportingly. Theo smiled to Jessie.

  Donn shook his head. “I must say, you have changed. I remember an Emily who was more about herself and surviving than looking out for her fellow man.”

  “Well, a lot has happened to me. Made me look at things a bit differently.”

  “Uh huh. How so?”

  Emily laced her hands behind her head as she leant back into her seat. “Well… seeing that there’s an afterlife. A proper real one that really stocks up on you choices, good and bad. I certainly want to have a weighty saving of good intentions to cash in on when I check out.”

  “So, all of this character development you are having is purely selfish.”

  Emily shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I’d like to think of it as playing it safe. As long as I don’t screw anyone over, kill someone or do any of the other nasty acts that grace our oh-so-prestigious society, then I’d be safe.”

  Donn gave Emily a skeptical look.

  “What?” she replied to his expression.

  “You truly are reprehensible.”

  “Yeah, yeah… Look, I’ve buggered up a lot of my life before I met you. I stole. I lied. I did what I could to get ahead of everyone else when I knew that I couldn't rely on anyone.” Emily turned her head at Donn. “But I’ve never gone out of my way to hurt anyone just for the sake of hurting them… That’s when you’re a dickhead.”

  Donn nodded. “Such a stark viewpoint on the world. Quite black and white.”

  “Yeah, well that’s just how I was brought up.”

  Donn craned his head back towards the back of the car. “What are your opinions on this? Think Emily’s plan is sound?”

  Theo and Jessie both sat up, surprised and yet not really that surprised that they were caught out.

  It dawned on them that Donn didn't miss much of what was going on.

  Theo replied first. “But if you do die, with all of these good acts you did… say that happens and they look at what you did. What happens if they realise that this good acts were born from a bad idea, just so you could buy a free ticket into Heaven?”

  Emily opened her mouth, but she closed it. That was a good question. What would her respective religious deity say if he caught on to her supposed act? Immediate damnation? Purgatory? Worse?

  While she thought about that, Donn answered. “And that therein lies the whole conundrum: how do we tell from the truly pious and repentant souls from those who are less than admirable? Are there any truly clean souls? Or are there just gradients of greyed souls of different shades? You are all Christian, I imagine?”

  The three all confirmed that they were. Donn nodded. “You were all raised with a religion that promised you eternal salvation if you were kind and generous to your fellow human. And eternal damnation was your punishment should you fail. So do any of you do what you did for others’ joy or yourself?”

  Jessie scratched her head. “I guess we’re all just trying to be the best we could be. There is that phrase about being human… I don’t know what it is though… To something is…”

  “‘To err is human. To forgive is divine’.” Theo assisted.

  Donn cocked his head. “There you go. There’s no real answer to it. You’d split your head open over what is truly good and what is truly bad. Some people do bad things for good reasons and some do good things for bad reasons. It’s just how it is with humanity.”

  “But what about the people who do bad things for bad reasons?” Theo asked.

  Jessie grinned. “Those people are the dickheads.”

  “Jessie!” Theo chided.

  Emily snorted a laugh.

  And that brought Donn back to his stewing of the culprit responsible for everything that had happened. “Hmm… Yeah…”

  Emily heard that tone on his voice. “Donn? What is it?”

  “Nothing. Just a few questions just need answering… I think.”

  “And maybe we could answer them. Spill ‘em…. Please.”

  Donn sighed through his nostrils.

  Why doesn't anyone just mind their own business these days? Bad enough with Chepi with her consistent and irritating campaigns to reunite Nephthys and myself… Gods know that I want to, but I cannot…

  But now, Emily is butting in. And yet... as much as I detest this unnecessary curiosity, she is right to ask this. We are in this together. Even the Shoals have become unwitting tagalongs due to their acts of kindness.

  Donn nodded. “All right, you win. But first, I require a drink.”

  He clicked on his left indicator and bore left towards a slipway that lead into a petrol station on the shoulder of the motorway.

  Once parked, he filled the car up on fuel while the three children took turns going to the local bathroom in the back of the shop.

  No one was leaving anyone’s sight, not with the threat of a Husk looming around a corner.

  While they headed into the shop, Donn scanned the cars driving up from Brighton. How many of the Husks have been made? At the forest, there were three of them in total, excluding the human travelling along with them.

  He was unsure how many more there were, but the three that were there proved to be a dangerous number to handle. He had trouble dealing with just one of them… And most importantly, he had no power to call on. If it were a mere man, Donn would have incapacitated him with ease. But against those Husks, this unkillable creatures, and with no true magic to use, Donn was as helpless as Jessie.

  If they were to do what needed to be done, they have to be careful from here on.

  The Husks, the burning of his carriage, the crippling of his power, the breakout of souls from the Deathlands… There was no doubt about it. Somehow, he was involved.

  When the children returned, lugging drinks and foods in translucent blue plastic bags, Donn waved his hand over the card machine. It shut off for a split second and restarted with a clear screen, having erased Donn’s fuel intake.

  “Neat trick.” Theo appraised and they all got into the car. “You going to teach us that?”

  “No.” Donn said with a hint of a smile. He started up the car and parked it out of the way of the other travellers looking to refuel their vehicles. After turning off the car, he took a moment to settle into his seat and lowering it back a tad to relax.

  A moderate amount of rainfall started to drop down onto the car roof, making an echoing sound that subtly reverberated in the interior. Then, as the group started tucking into their drinks and food, Donn turned on his seat to look at the three teenagers and spoke. “What do you children know about necromancy?”

  They all exchanged looks.

  “I mean,” Theo started. “As much as as one does, I guess. Speaking with the dead, bringing them back, casting dark powers and weird stuff like that…”

  Donn nodded. “True. And there is so much more… It’s only a theory, but I think I know who is responsible. And there is a lot you should know if we’re going to have a chance at this.”

  The silence was that of readiness. Donn took that message. “Alright then.”

  Donn rubbed his face and sighed. He opened his hands to the children. They all looked at them and at him. “Hold my hands.” he said. “And you will see what I shall tell you.”

  They exchanged looks and then took his hands.

  “Close your eyes, clear your thoughts and listen to my voice.”

  He was ready. “Throughout time, humans have tried and tried to answer that big, glaring question in their minds:

  ‘Why do we have such short lives and can’t we make them longer?’

  That was the great question. The great insurmountable task conjured up by humanity. Many tried to answer it. Many failed. But there was one man who tried and came the closest to succeed. You may have heard of him in school. His name was John Dee.”