While the note had been left in plain sight on the neatly cleared off work bench, in his blind panic, Harry missed it the first time he'd paced around the lab. The wizard had woken up to find that while the door to the apartment was still locked from the inside with all the windows also being locked and secured, Bob had disappeared along with the skull. Harry uselessly covered every inch of the apartment, illogically thinking that the former ghost was somehow hiding himself from him. But finally in his second sweep of the lab, he saw the sheet of paper that was sitting, anchored by an unused crystal.
Harry,
I've had to go to England to attend to an important matter.
I apologize for the abrupt exit.
Do not be concerned.
The note was unsigned, no doubt the author of it knowing Harry would be able to deduce who it was from. The wizard stared at the brief letter that could have fit easily on a post-it had he kept any around. After re-reading it over more times than was probably necessary, Harry shoved the piece of paper into his pocket. Jaw clenched in a painful lock, he snatched up the crystal that had been weighing it down and gathered up the rest of what he needed before leaving the lab. Grabbing the weathered knapsack he hadn't used since Bob had been made corporeal, Harry stuffed the items in as he walked to the storefront. From there he called an airline.
A handful of hours later, Harry was on a plane bound for the United Kingdom.
To pass the time on the flight, the wizard silently rehearsed all the different things he'd say to the errant necromancer, not caring that each speech was more hysterical and incensed than the one before. By the time they landed, he had several versions that concluded with him threatening to kick Bob's ass all the way back to the States.
It took a train and then a taxi ride with a driver who did his best not to stare too much at Harry when the wizard gave him directions while staring intently at a crystal dangling from a leather cord. He only politely took his money, muttering a low "nutter" before leaving Harry as requested, just outside of the small village which boasted a population just meeting the 800 mark. England was having an unusually sunny afternoon. A pleasant breeze drifted through the grass and trees of the little parish, adding to the idyllic landscape. Harry supposed at another time he might enjoy the scenery, but at the moment, he was focused on finding Bob and then quite possibly killing him.
The crystal in his hand was now glowing a little stronger, directing the wizard toward a wooded area that stood just at the edge of the village. As he got closer and the crystal grew brighter, Harry pushed it back into his pocket and marched on. Unlike the woods he was normally used to thanks to the neatly ordered foliage found in Chicago's parks, the nature around him now was thick and decidedly wild.
The trees sprang up from the ground, tall and growing every which way they chose because no human hands were dictating otherwise. Harry's very city sensibilities that relied on the comforts of concrete and straight lines faltered as the wizard tripped and stumbled over roots and fallen branches. Finally, after nearing ending up on his face thanks to a well-hidden rock, Harry found himself in an open field. Or what he thought was an open field.
Upon looking again, the wizard saw it was less of a natural meadow and more of a wide area where nothing was growing. The grass under his feet from earlier and the trees crowding around him had given way to dry dirt, a few large rocks and nothing else. The decimation of the area didn't feel recent, however, judging by how well-seated the boulders looked. It seemed something had leveled off the section at a large circle a long time ago and nothing had bothered to grow back. Harry felt the magic pulsating in the crystal inside his pocket abruptly wink out, indicating he'd found his target. Sure enough, standing a few feet away from him was Bob.
The necromancer was standing with his back to him in the middle of the open dead land, staring at the set of woods that continued on a few yards ahead of him. His pose was identical to the one he often used to hold when staring at a set of equations he'd scribbled in the air, back when he'd been a ghost. Seeing the familiar figure, Harry's mix of relief and anger got stalled by the overwhelming sense that he couldn't continue walking on unless he was invited to do so. As if he'd be trespassing if he didn't receive permission first. Not knowing how it was Bob missed his rather noisy entrance, Harry loudly cleared his throat.
Bob turned immediately the sound, looking startled. In one hand he held his skull. "Harry?"
"Hi," Harry returned, flatly.
"What are you doing here?"
"I woke up this morning and you'd disappeared. I followed you." He pulled out the used crystal from his pocket and held it up as evidence.
Sensing the wizard's hesitation, Bob lifted an arm and gestured for him to come over. "Why didn't you wai-"
"A NOTE?!" Harry shouted, taking the invitation and crossing the distance in four large strides. "I wake up, you're gone and you leave a NOTE?" The wizard waved the now creased slip of paper in the former ghost's face. "You don't talk to me for almost a week and then you just go and all you've got to say you put in a NOTE?!"
Bob blinked at the explosion and took a step back to avoid Harry nearly whacking him in the face with the paper. "I intended on coming back…" he defended.
"Really?" asked Harry, his anger not lessening. "Because I didn't see that written anywhere on here. Or maybe I missed it since the note was all of three lines." The wizard made a show of staring at the letter again. "Wait….nope. Not on here!" He shoved the paper back at Bob, who finally snatched it out of his hand.
"Yes, I understand, you're angry with me-"
"That's not even scraping the surface," the wizard seethed. He grabbed the note back as if holding it gave him supportive evidence at just how guilty the necromancer was at deserving a rant. "If you wanted to come to England so much, why didn't you just tell me?" he demanded.
Bob lifted an eyebrow. "And risk you sealing the doors?"
"I wouldn't have done that!" the wizard protested.
"Harry, you child-proofed the entire house. You haven't allowed me to use a knife in the past week. I hardly would have believed you'd allow me to travel across the Atlantic."
"If you'd told me how important it was to you, I would have let you go," Harry replied, coldly.
Seeing the hurt expression in the dark eyes, Bob felt a spike of guilt. "You're right," he acknowledged, regretfully. "I should have told you. I apologize."
The short, but sincere display of remorse deflated most of the anger out of Harry, despite him not quite willing to let go of it just yet. But he'd never been one to be able to keep ranting when the target was so obviously sorry and meant it. Instead, he gruffly shoved the note back into his pocket. "How'd you get here anyway?" he asked. "You don't even have a passport."
"I used a transportation spell," said Bob, surprised that Harry hadn't already figured that out. "Did you actually take a plane here?"
"What else would I use?" snapped Harry. "I don't know a transportation spell strong enough. I mess up and I'm in the ocean."
"I showed you the formula last month." The necromancer sighed. "Weren't you paying any attention to what I was saying?"
"Hey, who's criticizing who around here?" Harry demanded.
"Yes, alright. Sorry," Bob relented.
The wizard crossed his arms, doing a good job of still looking annoyed, having learned from the best. But finally he gave in with a muttered. "Fine, apology accepted."
A slightly awkward silence followed as the two wizards continued to stare at each other for a moment. Now that most of his frustration had been vented, Harry was able to look at Bob with a clearer eye and see the change that had come over the former ghost. It hadn't escaped the wizard that in the time of becoming mortal, Bob had grown more tense and stiff. But now, here in the woods of all places, surrounded by dirt that stuck to his shoes and leaves that stuck to his clothes, Bob looked remarkably relaxed. Settled. At home.
"Were you really going to come back?" Harry blurted out suddenly.
A look flashed across Bob's face. It was brief, but Harry caught it and realized that the former ghost had considered the alternative. At least since he'd arrived. But as quickly as it came, it was gone and the necromancer turned to walk past him, still clutching his skull.
"I only came to perform one task," said Bob.
"An important matter?" Harry quoted from the note.
"Yes. It wasn't supposed to take long. I actually thought I'd be able to come back before you'd noticed only…I seemed to have lost track of the time…" he trailed off. The necromancer continued to view their surroundings. "You know, centuries have passed since I was here," he mused. "And yet I recognize it. All of it. It all feels the same." He turned to gesture toward a space behind Harry's shoulder. "The house was there. It was small, even by the standards back then. I could have built upon it, but my brother would only give it to me if I swore not to alter a stone," he recalled. A slight smile curved onto Bob's face at the memory.
Of all the information that had just been casually delivered to him, Harry's mind centered down on one thing. "You have a brother?" he asked in a voice a lot louder than he'd intended. "How come you never told me?"
"Well, he's long gone now, Harry," Bob replied, looking a little puzzled at the question.
"I wasn't asking so that we could have him over for dinner, Bob," said Harry. "I just mean….I've known you for over twenty years and I'm learning just now that you had a brother?"
The former ghost only shrugged. "It didn't seem very relevant," he replied, crouching down, his attention already moving away from Harry's question. His eyes focused instead on the ground in front of him and the wizard let go of prodding further into the matter for now, though he made a mental note to pick it up later. He watched at a respectful distance as Bob pressed a hand onto the dirt. "I lived here," he murmured, softly enough to himself that Harry had to strain to hear. "We lived here."
Without asking, the wizard also guessed that this was where she'd been brought back. He took his eyes off Bob to scan the area again. It would explain the absence of growth around the area. It seemed life had refused to come back to a place where it had once been forced back. When he turned his attention back to the crouching necromancer, he saw the relaxed, near peaceful expression on Bob's face as the former ghost closed his eyes, breathing contently. The thought came again to Harry that perhaps this was where Bob belonged. But before he could work up the nerve to ask, half dreading the answer, the necromancer opened his eyes with a decisive look.
"Here, I think," he declared.
"Here?" Harry repeated, fearing what that meant.
Looking over, Bob nodded. "I came to bury my skull."
The wizard blinked for a moment. "You…came all the way here to bury your skull?"
"I had to, Harry," replied Bob. "This is where it belongs."
In truth, the skull had all but asked Bob to finally bring it here. The small bursts of comfort it had been able to give the former ghost had been less for pure comfort, but more an enticement. A message, letting him know that his old life needed a final resting place before his new one could begin. And its place was where Hrothbert of Bainbridge had lived and died.
Without further elaboration, the necromancer carefully placed the skull on the ground before using both hands to start digging. After a few moments of watching, Harry walked over. "Want some help?" he offered.
"If you'd be so kind."
It took about half an hour to make a hole large enough. By the time they were finished, dirt caked both men's hands, though neither, not even the normally fastidious necromancer seemed to mind. Instead, he placed the ancient skull inside and slid the mound of dirt over it with little pause or ceremony. Standing back up, Bob lightly clapped the soil off his hands, not commenting on the fact that Harry wiped his against the side of his jacket. "Thank you," he said instead.
"Sure," Harry nodded. "Are you…" he searched for the right word. "Done?" he asked, mentally rolling his eyes at himself. It wasn't exactly the right word, but Bob seemed to interpret it well enough.
"Yes, I believe I am."
"Are you sure?" Harry began and then forced himself to continue. "You don't want to maybe stick around here?" When Bob looked at him, the wizard attempted not to look too nervous, but had a feeling he was failing when he saw the slightly soft expression on the necromancer's face. "It's just…I know you haven't been feeling all that well and you look kind of happy here so maybe-"
"If it's all the same to you, Harry," Bob interrupted. "I'd rather like to go home."
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
They walked a little away from the clearing. Harry stumbling over a dead branch, prompting Bob to grasp onto his arm to prevent a mishap. Feeling the supporting hand, the wizard cleared his throat. "Listen, Bob. I'm sorry about all the…precautions I did in the last few days. I know I kind of went…"
"Insane?" Bob suggested.
"Overboard," Harry decided. "I just never really thought about what it meant," he said, glancing at the former ghost's bandaged finger. "That something could happen to you and I wouldn't be able to do anything."
"It takes some time for one to get used to that," said the necromancer. "It isn't pleasant, but then I always tried to trust in the idea that you could take care of yourself."
"Yeah, I guess you'd know that feeling," Harry smiled, sheepishly. "I'll try."
"I'm glad to hear it."
Once they reached the edge of the clearing, Bob cast one last look at the area. His eyes outlined the cottage that had once stood there and he could faintly hear the soft footsteps of a once very flawed sorcerer as he entered through where she'd been waiting for him. There was a soft thump as the door closed behind him. Hearing it, Bob felt an overwhelming sense of ease.
"Your spell strong enough to get us both back?" he heard Harry's voice break into his thoughts. "I don't have enough cash to get another ticket back."
Bob looked away from the area to fix Harry with a look. "Of course," he stated. "As you would know if you'd paid attention a month ago."
"I know, I get it."
"It would have saved you a considerable amount of money."
"I'm sorry, I'll pay attention this time when you do it," Harry assured. "Oh, and sorry about the shirt," he added.
"Shirt?"
"Yeah, I kind of tore up one of yours to use for the tracking spell to find you."
The necromancer seemed to pale to a shade he'd often sported as a ghost. "Which one?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "It was a shirt. I think it had stripes on it?"
"And you tore it up?" Bob demanded. "A button would have sufficed."
"I wasn't thinking clearly," Harry half lied, distinctly recalling the satisfaction he'd felt when he'd ripped at the clothing, taking his frustrations out on it. He saw the necromancer taking a measured breath. "I'll buy you a new one."
"With the money you no longer have after purchasing an overpriced plane ticket?"
"First case we get, you get a new shirt," Harry offered.
Bob sighed. "Never mind. Shall we go?"
Feeling the magic rising around them as the necromancer readied to pronounce the spell, Harry got a good grip on Bob's shoulder to prepare. "You're not going to drop me in the ocean, are you?" he asked. While it was a joke, Bob noted the slight glaze of fear in his former student's face and grinned, evilly.
"No promises."
"Funny. A riot."
The sound of chuckling floated through the clearing as a strong gust of wind moved through. When the trees ceased to rustle at the breeze, the two wizards were gone.
THE END