Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #17 August 2015 | Page 41

They could go mad at any moment; they could hurt
the other students or even kill someone!”

The figure had his hands inside his deep sleeves but
one arm was clutching an ancient looking book to his
chest.

“Would you have them put to death as they
were in the old days, for the crime of being born with
a different kind of magic in their blood?”

Stacey pointed at the figure and was about to
ask her sister who that was, when she saw a group of
laughing girls reach the other side of the tree, the girls
stopped suddenly then recoiled in shock or something
worse. One of them looked around the thick trunk and
shrieked; she said something, and the entire group fled
to find shade under another tree.

“Well no, that’s barbaric. But sorcerers, why
are they here, why aren’t they locked up somewhere
safe where they can’t hurt people?”
“Where else should they go to learn how to
control their magic? Would you have them join one
of the outlaw bands or find their way to one of the
underground groups who would teach them to enjoy
killing?”

“Who, what is he? Or don’t I want to know.”

“Well no, but, I suppose, but, what if, what if
they hurt someone?”
“They won’t. If they can’t learn to control their
powers, or themselves, they will be dealt with.” The
last few words had a ring of finality about them.
Alala didn’t look entirely convinced and this
had clearly taken the shine off her happiness.
Then the group of black clad sorcerers walked
away, leaving their victim sitting on the flagstones, the
onlookers hurrying to step aside. A clear area formed,
allowing the two to look across the path and onto
the grass where the ancient oaks stood tall and wide,
where scores of students rested in the shade under the
broad spread branches. All except one tree where a
single figure stood, completely alone and isolated.
#
Stacey, Peggy, and Amanda stood and watched
in silence as the five walked away and disappeared
into the crowd, but before the crowd moved back and
filled the gap left by the group it was possible to see
onto the lawn and the trees there. Stacey’s eye was
immediately caught by a tall, skinny figure wearing a
black robe, the hood pulled up and forward to shadow
most of the face. Only the bottom of the face could be
seem, thin and pale, the cheeks covered with acne and
the weak chin covered in a fuzz of soft brown hair.

Amanda shook her head from side to side,
“You probably don’t want to know but you need to.
I heard we had one in this year’s intake; there are a
few others on the campus but we don’t see them. The
campus wards are powerful, but sometimes something
leaks through so you need to know. Don’t kill anything here, not even an insect. Chase it away, but never
ever kill anything. It’s not worth the risk.”
Both Stacey and Peg stared at her. Amanda’s
voice had been serious, but there had been fear in
the words of warning. It was Peggy who spoke first.
“What is he?”
Amanda looked around again to make sure no
one was close enough to hear her words.
“Necromancer.”
#
“A NECROMANCER! NO! Sorcerers are one
thing but a necromancer. Around these children. No,
how can the University allow this? A Necromancer.
In Africa we put them to death as soon as the power
manifests at puberty. You can’t tell me they are allowed to walk around freely. Don’t you know what
they do, even without meaning to? Just by being here
they place everyone at risk.”
Alala paused for breath, her cheeks were
flushed, and her good humour had vanished. “I met the
chancellor, she’s a good woman and a grandmother.
How can she allow this? A Necromancer!”

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