Page 47 of Sanctuary


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  Finally, a break in the trees actually led somewhere. Benji gulped in thankful swallows of air as he looked around. The sun was still up, but rapidly fading into rainbow sherbet colors. Benji hoped convincing Thana wouldn’t take much time. He wanted to be off the mountain before setting up camp tonight. With his mother.

  After leaving the sparse tree cover, Benji proceeded down a wide ledge curving around the mountain. A dirt path cut through tall reedy grass and Benji followed it. He heard faint gurgles of running water ahead. The tall grass on either side of the trail was more than half Benji’s height. It waved eerily in the humid breeze.

  Benji suddenly realized there were no birds. No insects called to each other. No forest animals scurried in the underbrush. He was surrounded by the whispering grass with only the noise of running water to lead him forward. He shivered.

  A new sound entered the still, strange unquiet. It was like wood hitting wood or sliding across something. A shuffling that was oddly rhythmic. Around a bend in the path, Benji discerned a cabin hidden in the grass in front of him. It must be Thana’s house, Benji thought excitedly, momentarily forgetting the queer atmosphere surrounding him. He hurried closer. The dirt track continued on its reed abutted path and led to an ill-fitting door with two shuttered windows on either side. A waterfall rushed down the mountainside behind the cabin, filling Benji’s ears with its noise.

  When he reached the door, Benji raised his hand to knock, excitement making his fist shake a little. The roaring waterfall suddenly became deafening. The swishing voices of the tall, reedy grass buzzed like feedback from a bad speaker system. It was silent and painfully loud at the same time. Benji felt dizzy and swayed on his feet. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the noise stopped. It was normal again. Just grass and a waterfall, nothing strange except the unidentified hollow sliding sound that repeated like a bad melody. Benji shook his head to clear it and took a deep breath.

  He knocked loudly. The door shuddered under his fist and Benji was half-afraid it would collapse. The place didn’t look very stable. Benji waited, but no one invited him in or opened the door. The cacophony of the waterfall probably drowned out the noise of his knock. Benji decided to try again, louder this time, but he didn’t trust the rickety door. He thudded his fist against the door frame instead, and a satisfying boom, boom, boom, came out of the more stable woodwork.

  “Hello?” Benji shouted, adding his voice to assure he was heard this time. There was still no answer, but just as Benji thought he might try looking for a back door or opening the shutters, the door swung inward. It creaked softly open, like every door in every haunted house movie Benji had ever seen. He stepped back involuntarily.

  A woman stood in the darkened interior of the cabin, framed by the doorway. She had pale gray skin loosely hanging on her thin frame. Her dress might once have been blue, but it was an ashy gray now, stained and torn. Her jet black hair hung straight as rain around her body past her waist. It was misted with dew from the waterfall and shone in the fading sunlight. She was tall and long, like a spider instead of a woman, and had shadowy purple eyes that were regarding Benji curiously.

  “What do you here, boy?” she asked in a voice that blended oddly with the waterfall.

  Benji stepped forward, chin up, shoulders back. He was here for a purpose. “Are you Thana the Necromancer?” He demanded boldly.

  “Not anymore,” she replied, “but once I was known thus.” The woman spoke slowly, with a garbled accent. It was difficult for Benji to understand her.

  “I need a Necromancer,” Benji insisted. “I need someone who can bring a person back to life.”

  Purple eyes examined Benji up and down. He felt like a slide under a microscope, a microscope wielded by Dr. Frankenstein. The woman’s piercing gaze bore into him when she reached his face again. Benji couldn’t look away. He didn’t know how long they stood there, eyes locked in a very disturbing staring contest, but finally, the woman looked away. “I can do that,” Thana said simply, and stood back to let Benji inside.

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  Chapter 29: The Deal for the Dead
E. Edgar Price's Novels