Chapter 1

October 12th, Thursday Morning

I wonder if the Inquisition pays special attention to those of us unfortunate enough to be born on the 13th? Is there any truth to the notion that Friday the 13th is an unlucky day? It seems that way to me sometime. Last time my birthday landed on a Friday I was turning ten so that wasn't as bad because the Inquisition only sends someone to check up on me every four years. Which means for my sixteenth not only do I have to have a birthday on a Friday the 13th but Inquisitor Lockwood will be showing up soon and I get to take my driving test. Isn't there some kind of limit how much a girl has to take?

"Ravyn?"

I blinked and looked up from the cartoon doodle of a rat I'd been drawing on my notebook. Mrs. Garnett had that look on her narrow face like she had just asked me a question. I gave her my sweetest smile.

"I'm sorry. Could I have the question again?"

Her frown deepened. Someone should have told her that frowning gave her the worst wrinkles. Smiling was much better. I don't think that Mrs. Garnett smiled too often. Obviously Mr. Garnett wasn't doing his job at home.

"I asked if you could tell us what the problem is with the function on the board?"

Over the summer Stanton High had put in new computerized white boards in the classrooms. Hurray for no more chalk. I hated getting that stuff on me. I slid out of my seat under the predatory eyes of my classmates and walked up to the board. Mrs. Garnett gave me the electronic stylus. It was sticky from her clammy hands. I fought to keep my smile as I studied the function. It was an obvious error. The program loop in the function used the assignment operator instead of a comparison operator. I quickly drew red flower petals around the offending equal sign. Beneath it I wrote two equal signs together.

"It needs to be a comparison operator instead of the assignment operator," I said as I handed the stylus back to Mrs. Garnett.

"Thank you, Ravyn. Next time let's have a less artistic display, okay?"

I shrugged and went back to my seat. Mrs. Garnett's thin lips were pressed together as she tried to reset the board to the next problem. That's the trouble with giving these teachers new technology. Half of them don't know what to do with it and it's painful to watch. The decibel level in the classroom rose as she continued to struggle. I felt bad for her.

"Are you going to the dance?" Marjorie asked.

I slumped in my seat. The Halloween costume dance was coming up. The dance committee already had appropriately themed decorations up around the school. Marjorie's a sweet girl. She didn't have to live with someone that had actually raised the dead. If Friday the 13th was bad enough for a birthday imagine how Halloween feels to someone who's grandmother was burned as a witch?

"We don't really do Halloween."

Marjorie's eyes widened. She covered her mouth with her hands for a moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about that. Of course."

"That's okay. I might go to the dance. No one has asked."

"I'm going with Riley."

I had to think about that one. I came up blank. She must have seen it on my face.

Marjorie smiled sheepishly. "He's a freshman."

"A freshman!"

She nodded. "Yeah. He's so cute."

"Class, if I could have your attention?" Mrs. Garnett's voice sounded strained. Mr. Garnett really did need to do a better job. She had way too much stress.

I didn't get any more details out of Marjorie. Instead class ended and we waved goodbye. I hit my locker and then made my way out to my waiting bike. It was cold outside. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled on my cute knit cap. Tomorrow I'd get my license and then the bike could sit in the garage all winter while I drove to school in heated comfort. I couldn't wait. That is, I couldn't wait to get the license. I wished there was just a way to get the license without having to take the test. I hate tests under the best circumstances but especially when driving. The thought of sitting behind the wheel while some smug bureaucrat judged my driving made me feel sick.

I got on the bike and started for home. I didn't know what I would find when I got there. What if Inquisitor Lockwood had already shown up? He'd never come before my birthday. Usually he showed up a few days afterward. Always without any warning. International treaties gave the Inquisition the powers to deal with any witch — a generic catchall term used to describe those with various psychic abilities. I couldn't read minds or move things around with my mind. I wasn't anything like Carrie White popularized by Stephen King. As far as I knew I was perfectly normal. My mother was also normal. So why did Inquisitor Lockwood come knocking every four years or so? Because of Nana. My grandmother had been a powerful necromancer until the Inquisition caught up with her and burned her. Of course they call it a treatment these days and there's no burning at the stake. It's a targeted surgical procedure that removes the offending brain tissue. Trouble is they still don't know exactly what gives people these abilities. They've just figured out that if they burn out a big old chunk of gray matter the 'witch' won't manifest the abilities any longer. Of course it also leaves them in a
pretty vegetative state. But that's the price for public safety.

I got on the bike path along the creek and picked up the pace. I wanted to get home early enough to get some driving practice in tonight.

Our house isn't anything fancy. A ranch house with a full basement. The basement is mine. I took the bike into the garage. I leaned it up against the wall and turned my attention to my birthday present. Mom let me have it early so I could practice driving it before I got my license. A 2002 cherry red Volkswagen New Beetle convertible. Too cute. I ran my hand along the door for a minute and then went inside through the mudroom connecting the kitchen to the garage.

"Mom?"

Mom walked into the kitchen wearing a sleek black off-shoulder dress and spun around. I have to hand it to her, she's still pretty much a babe. It helps that she had me young, but still. We're a lot alike. Petite with dark hair and fair skin. Mom says I have my Dad's eyes. I've seen the pictures and I'm not sure but it's a nice thought.

"How do I look?"

"Great, but what's going on?"

"I've got a date." Mom was all smiles. Scratch driving practice. "Honey —?"

I gave in. Who could blame me? The woman is lonely. I can understand that. "I'll watch Nana. Go. Have a good time. I have homework to do."

"I thought you'd order a pizza?" She held out cash which I'm always happy to take. "We're saving the cake for tomorrow but you can have ice cream tonight if you want dessert."

"Sure. Sounds good. Who's the lucky guy? Anyone I know?"

She shook her curls. "Nope. His name is Carl. I met him at the store. How's soon-to-be-birthday-girl?"

"Fine. Don’t you have any idea when a particular Inquisitor is going to show up?"

That wilted Mom's smile. "No, you know they don't tell us. I doubt that he'd show up early but if he does I've got my cell. Just give me a call. Or if anything goes wrong with Nana."

"Nothing will go wrong. Have fun."

"It's okay? I'm sorry to be going out tonight, but with our schedules…"

"It's fine. Really. And you'll be home tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. Okay. You're the best."

"That's right. Just think how lucky you are to have such a perfect daughter."

Mom laughed and gave me a hug. It felt good to make her happy. I breathed deep and smelled her perfume and clean skin. I pulled back and pointed a finger at her. "You be careful too. Standard opt out call?"

"I don't think we'll need that tonight."

I raised an eyebrow.

She lifted her hands in surrender. "Fine. Call."

I nodded, satisfied. Parents don't always think things through. I'd give her a call part way into her date. That way if she wanted to bail out she could use the call as an excuse. It had proven useful in the past. I hoped, for her sake, that it wasn't necessary tonight. Maybe Carl would be the guy. I'd given up on having a father a long time ago but Mom wasn't even forty yet. It'd be nice if she had someone in her life – other than Nana – when I go away to college.

"I'm going to go down to my room to work on homework until your date gets here. What time is he picking you up?"

Mom shook her head. "We're meeting at the restaurant. I'll leave around seven."

"Okay."

"You want me to order the pizza?"

I wasn't hungry right then. "No thanks. I'll do it later."

I felt a bit guilty as I went down the stairs to my room in the basement. Nana would have her usual soup. She couldn't eat pizza. I'd probably end up fixing a sandwich and just hang onto the cash. A girl needed gas money, after all. I'd pay her back after I got a job. But to get a job I needed reliable transportation. I could ride the bike but then I'd get to work all sweaty or soaked by the rain. Not a pretty picture. No, the car would solve my transportation troubles. With the money I made from the job I didn't have yet I'd finally be able to get out of here and go to college. And once I got a good high-paying gig I could afford to hire someone to help Mom out with Nana. So keeping the cash now only made sense.

The basement is set up as an apartment with its own bathroom and a small kitchen. Mom plans to rent it out after I'm gone to college but for now it gives me a taste of what life will be like after I move out. I dumped my books beside the computer on the desk in the corner of my living room. Other than the computer desk the room held a couch, television and a recliner in the corner. Along the other walls were a couple book shelves and my Nordic Track. Contrary to teenage stereotypes it wasn't a mess. I kept my place tidy and tastefully, I thought, decorated. The kitchen was to the left of the stairs with an open bar between it and the rest of the room. Two doors further along led to the bathroom and bedroom. The bedroom wasn't exactly a master suite but it was comfortable enough and had a door leading to the bathroom as well. Not that anyone ever saw the basement. I didn't bring people home often. Mostly because of Nana.

I settled into my computer chair and dragged the Python programming book out of my bag. I might as well start with my favorite subject.

The hours passed and Mom called down that she was leaving for her date. I had just about finished my homework so I went upstairs to wave her off and check on Nana. After she pulled out I went down the hall to Nana's room and knocked lightly on the door.

"Nana?" I didn't wait for an answer. Nana rarely spoke. I eased the door open and stepped inside.

Nana was sitting by the window in her favorite rocking chair. In her hands the knitting needles clicked away. It looked like a sweater. She knitted for hours every day. Half the time she didn't even look at the knitting but instead gazed out the large windows at the garden. We'd planted a wide range of flowers outside to keep her attention and give her something to look at. This time of the year, though, there wasn't much blooming. Some of the marigolds were still going. She didn't look up as I came in.

"Nana? How are you doing?"

Nana's eyes flicked in my direction and returned to the window. She knew I was there at least. I turned on the light. The room was immediately brighter with pretty flowered wallpaper. The whole room was done in flowers, Mom's idea. I think she went a bit overboard. The wallpaper, curtains, bed spreads and even the knick knacks on the dresser and book case were flowers. A few ceramic hummingbirds hung in the window. It was like a florist shop had exploded in the room. I don't know how much Nana paid attention but Mom said it was important to keep her mind on living things.

I walked around the bed and looked at Nana. She always looked so sad like she could cry in a moment. Her lips trembled and her eyes watered. I don't know if the flowers made her feel better or not. Sometimes I thought she must just want to get out and have fun. Mom didn't like her to go out. She was afraid that Nana would wander off on her own or trip and fall. She said that it would get Nana over excited. Maybe she's right.

"Mom's gone out on a date, Nana. But I'm here. Would you like your soup?"

Nana nodded slowly but she still didn't look at me.

"Okay. I'll get it ready and then I'll be back."

I had already reached the door when Nana spoke.

"They come back, you know. They'll come for you."

I took a breath and went on out. Nana always said things like that, if she said anything at all. It freaked me out. I was pretty sure when she talked about 'them' she meant dead things. She thought I was like her. I hoped that she was wrong. I didn't want to be a necromancer. To be called a witch. I didn't want anyone to get hurt and that's what happened when dead things came back. The research was clear on that point. Waking up dead things wasn't a good idea. They always came back wrong. People thought that they could talk to their deceased loved ones – but what came back didn't have any of that love. Whatever it was that could come back was dangerous.

Mom hardly ever talks about what happened with Nana but I think that they moved around a lot, probably on the run from the Inquisition. Nana was still on the run when Mom and Dad got married. But the Inquisition caught up to her after the wedding. I think that Mom blames herself for that. I don't know why, exactly, but I'd guess Nana wanted to go to the wedding. What mother wouldn't want to see her daughter's wedding? It went bad for Mom after that. Nana got caught by the Inquisition and burned. Dad died in a freak accident fixing up the basement. Yeah, and believe me that knowing that sometimes weirded me out living down there. But most of the time I thought that he would like it if he could know how much I like the rooms down there. It makes me feel closer to him.

I fixed Nana's soup and a sandwich for myself and took the tray in to her. We ate together in silence. After she finished I picked up the latest novel by Dan Simmons and started reading to Nana. Mom usually read to her in the evening. I'd missed the first part of the book so I didn't know what was going on but Nana closed her eyes and looked peaceful. Mom said that Nana enjoyed listening to the stories. It seemed that way although I thought it was hard to be sure. Maybe she just enjoyed the company and the sound of our voices. When I finished she got ready for bed. I tucked her in and headed back downstairs.

"Perky? Here kitty?"

No sign of the cat. She usually came back inside before bed but she hadn't come back last night. I worried about it a bit but cats are like that sometimes. Once she took off for a week. I didn't think too much of it and sat down to finish my homework.

By the time I closed my books I felt worn out. Not from the homework. Most of that is nothing but busy work anyway. My computer science class is interesting at least. I was tired of history, though. Part of it was the topic we were on at the moment. The Inquisition, my favorite bogeymen. We were tracing the development of the Inquisition from historical inquisitions based on religious views to the current modern secular inquisition that served as an international police force. One with a narrow mandate but broad powers. Ask almost anyone and they would say that the Inquisition was a necessary thing in a world where some people developed the ability to move things with their minds or light fires. Or raise the dead. The use of the term witch as a catchall for anyone displaying those sorts of abilities had its roots in the original witch trials.

Is the Inquisition necessary? Maybe. I feel sorry for Nana and I love her. I think it's horrible that she had part of her brain burned out. But what options are there? Unless they develop a cure for this sort of thing, one that doesn't leave you a vegetable, what are we supposed to do? We studied what can happen if the dead come back in school. Sure, it doesn't happen very often these days but it is like any disease. If you don't treat it then it spreads. They've drilled it into us that we're supposed to report anything strange that happens.

Not that it makes me any happier to think about Inquisitor Lockwood coming. Oh, he's always nice and polite and everything but it doesn't change the fact that he shows up to see if he's going to have to take me away. Or Mom. The evidence indicates that there must be some sort of genetic predisposition to develop those abilities. Since Nana had been a necromancer then there was a chance that we could become one too. And I had Nana making comments like she had earlier about me. So far she hadn't said that in front of Lockwood. I hoped that she wouldn't. She didn't usually talk during his visits. I think he scared her.

I had to do something. I got up from the computer. I needed a run. It was too late and too dark outside but that's why I had the Nordic track. Mom bought it during one of her fitness crazes but she gave it up quickly. I liked it. Running in the cool comfort of my basement. Nothing beat that.

I changed into a cute pair of shorts and a sports bra, put on my running shoes and went at it. I took the time to stretch first, of course. With my iPod playing I tried to forget all about birthdays, Inquisitions and dead things. Tomorrow was the big day.

Happy birthday to me