Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #20 November 2015 | Page 19

Christine noticed the design too, and she
recognized it. It was an esoteric contraption, a circle
drawn to trap enemies and spirits. Lines of crimson
met at the edges in a complex sigillum filled with
severed heads, hearts, brains, and bladders. In that
blood red moon, each gory component of the circle
suddenly glowed as bright as Christine and Bana.

studied and practiced magic, for decades, interacting
with some of the greatest minds of our age. But
someone of your raw energy, your vital spirit. One
with such a connection to beings beyond even my
comprehension. It’s impressive.”
“The loa shouldn’t have even allowed you
here! This realm was granted to us by the sympathy of
my ancestors, my guiding gods-”

Suddenly, Christine and Bana could hardly
move. They pulled and tugged their bodies with
fervor, yet only limited motion was granted to them.

“Nothing is barred or sacred to those that
know the magic of flesh, Christine. My magic served
me well in locating you. Now, shall you join me
peacefully? I won’t be able to do anything with your
Indian friend. I can tell she’s being influenced by a
loa you summoned for her, some sort of fire deity
matching the spirit you’re currently possessed with.”

“Christine Marie Demont,” the necromancer
greeted in a loud, boastful, and slightly taunting voice.
“By now, your friends of your secluded island have
been turned into my mindless agents. They will serve
well for my purposes.”
Christine didn’t respond kindly to the
necromancer. She cursed, spit, and shouted still,
pulling with all of her might. That circle seemed to
hold her and the loa riding her to the earth.

And those loas were losing power. The circles
were draining them, making their connection to Bana
and Christine weak.

“Now, I have a proposition. I cannot trust
you to cooperate in your state, but you wouldn’t be
entirely useless as a dead woman. Though I’d prefer to
keep you alive, I could always study your brain, your
blood, all of your vital organs... Try to find whatever
codes exist in your body that make you such a natural
magician.”
The necromancer’s enslaved zombies
approached the outside of the glowing circle, growling
in low uttered mumbles.
“I’d love to have you by my side,” the
necromancer continued, “not only as my slave, but
my comrade. You and I know that could never be the
case.”
Christine’s fine brows furrowed with fury.
“You came here, destroyed the tranquil life of my
people, just to claim me?” Insultin