Read Never Trust a Dead Man for Free Online Page B

the spell weaker."
    Selwyn wasn't convinced she didn't say that only to keep him quiet, but he stopped asking questions, just in case.
    Once Elswyth got a fire going, she pulled a little clay pot from her pack and placed that on the heat. She emptied two vials into the pot: one a clear, bright red liquid—
like melted rubies,
Selwyn thought; the other a thick blackish purple substance that she had to shake out of its container. It made a rude sucking sound when it finally wriggled out, then landed with a noisy
plop
in the already-simmering red ingredient. There was a loud
hiss,
a blue cloud of smoke, and a nasty smell that momentarily made Selwyn forget the smell of where he was.
    Elswyth unwrapped Farold's blanket again and cut off another hank of his hair.
    His skin had an awful greenish cast. Without even realizing it, Selwyn slid backward on his knees. Glowering, Elswyth grabbed hold of his wrist before he broke the circle. She had talked of the dead person's willingness to come back, and Selwyn had been amazed, assuming any dead person would be glad to be alive again, even temporarily. Now, seeing the state of the body they were asking Farold to come back to, Selwyn wasn't so sure.
    Elswyth placed Farold's hair into the pot, along with various leaves and powders from her pack. Lastly she pulled from her pack a human leg bone, dry and white. She waved this, wafting over Farold the still-blue smoke from the clay pot, and began to call Farold's name.
    Selwyn was light-headed, even without the smoke.
    In a low singsong, she apologized for disturbing Farold's rest and told him that his friend—which Selwyn had never been—needed him. "You died an untimely death," she chanted, "cut short, unfairly, unfairly. Your grieving friend seeks your aid to unmask your murderer."
    She tipped Selwyn's head, forcing him to look at Farold, which he'd been steadfastly trying to avoid. She handed him the bone, setting the other end down on Farold's forehead. "Come back," she said, which Selwyn imagined she meant for Farold, even though she was looking at him. She gestured, and he realized he was to repeat her words.
    ' "Come back,'" he squeaked.
    "Use these ingredients...," Elswyth said, wafting the smoke.
    "'Use these ingredients...,'" Selwyn echoed.
    "And my strength..."
    That
explained why she was having him help. But Selwyn repeated the words: "'And my strength ...'" Was it just his imagination, or did he really suddenly feel weaker? There was no other choice, he reminded himself.
    "And enter into this body," Elswyth finished, gesturing for him to make sure the bone stayed touching Farold.
    ' "And enter into this body.'"
    But at the very moment Selwyn spoke, there was a sudden noise in the cave, a commotion. His body jerked involuntarily, ready to fend off attack.
    It was only the bats, once more stirring as, outside, daylight faded and nighttime settled. In a moment Selwyn had recovered from his start, but then one of the bats—so clever and agile the night before—fell into his lap.
    "Ahh!" Farold's voice screamed, small and many octaves too high. "What have you done?"
    Selwyn looked down at the bone Elswyth had handed him, which he'd unwittingly raised off Farold's brow, and which—even now—was pointing straight up, up to where the cloud of bats above swooped and swarmed and flew beyond the curve of the corridor, deeper into the cavern. Leaving one behind.
    Elswyth reached over Farold's perfectly still corpse and over the bat that fluttered and raged and tried unsuccessfully to right itself. She smacked Selwyn hard. "Fool!" she cried.

SIX
    The bat was having trouble standing upright. Unable to get its balance, it kept flapping its wings, but this caused it to rise slightly off the ground, at which point it would squawk, stop flapping, drop back to the floor, and tumble over. Then start all over again.
    "
Fool?
" the bat repeated after Elswyth, its voice tiny but definitely Farold's. "
Fool? Fool
doesn't say the half of