I came back to myself surrounded by the sounds of people screaming.

"We have to make her wake up," the Professor was saying. Panic was thick and heavy in his voice.

"Because your last plan worked so well," Kieran spat, sarcastically.

"I could use a little help here," Jack called, frantically.

I sat up, slowly, and looked around. I was still sitting on the top of the hill. Eolande's skeleton was laid out beside me, where I'd left her. Kieran was running down to the bottom of the hill, where Jack stood, fighting off the living dead. The Professor had his back to me, staring out across the cemetery.

From what I could see, every single person who had ever been buried in the graveyard was walking towards us. The Fae were running around, screaming. Some of them had taken dress swords and were fighting the dead back. I saw the tall red haired woman beating a raised corpse with her shoe. A fire blazed in a corner of the cemetery and some of the Fae had lit branches with it. They brandished the burning wood at the living dead, hoping, I suppose that the flames would drive them back. I groaned.

"You're up," the Professor said. "What the hell have you done?"

"You think this is my fault," I said, indignantly. "None of them would be here if you hadn't smashed my shields."

"I suppose you'd have preferred it if I'd just let her murder you?"

"I had it under control."

"Well, it didn't look like it," the professor said. "From what I could see, she had you pinned to the ground and you were losing consciousness."

"Maybe," I snapped, "you just weren't looking properly." I stood up and looked across the cemetery. "In case you didn't notice, she's the only corpse in this damned place that isn't moving." I raised an eyebrow at the professor. "Or are you trying to take credit for that, too?" He looked away from me.

Metaphysical pissing contest over, I dragged my hair out of my face. The effects of the professor's 'liquid courage' seemed to be wearing off. I felt tired and my body ached all over. But most of all, I felt pissed off. These people had asked me to come and then, the second I did my job they cocked the whole thing up.

"All right," I sighed, scraping my curls back into a messy bun. There was no hope of getting my hair under control in the time I had. All of the Fae were panicking and when people panic, they get hurt. They were attacking the dead just for walking towards me. As much as people might like to believe that death absolves you of imperfections, it doesn't. Not from what I've seen. People don't change just because they stop living.

There was only so much violence and fear the dead were going to take before they started reacting in kind. I knew that I was going to be blamed for any injuries that occurred. Just my luck. I drew my spine up straight, took a deep breath and whispered a single word.

"Stop." Nothing happened. I said it again, louder. "Stop." The reanimated dead didn't even pause. "What's going on?" I asked the professor.

"Oh, now you care about my expert opinion?"

I wanted to tell him to grow up. Instead I gritted my teeth and forced myself to say it, "I need your help." The professor smiled triumphantly and stood beside me.

"They're ignoring you, right?" he said.

"Apparently."

"Perhaps it's because you're ignoring them."

"I'm not ignoring them," I said, gesturing angrily at the graveyard, "I just told them to stop."

"Did you," he asked pointing at my chest, "in here?"

"What?" I muttered, searching down into the dark, silent place. It was still there but something was wrong. I searched for the ethereal threads which should have bound the dead to me. I couldn't find them. "Fuck." I turned back to Professor Vonnegut. "What do I do?"

"You need to find them again."

"I meant how." I stared at him, desperately waiting for a response.

"I..." the professor trailed off, then stared at me blankly.

"Great," I said. "That's just great." I walked back to the middle of the hilltop and sat down. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the battle that was raging around me. I breathed deeply, trying to ignore the smell of smoke. I had to calm down. I couldn't think straight.

My Auntie taught me this visualization once, for calming the nerves. You inhale, focusing on the pure cooling energies of the universe. Then exhale, releasing the tightly wound tension coiled inside. Inhale, loosen the tension. Exhale, let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

"Is she meditating?" I heard Kieran's voice cut through the silence I was building around myself. "We don't have time for that. Make her fix this."

I opened my eyes and squinted up at him. Kieran glared down at me.

"I can't fix anything," I explained to him, "until I find out what the professor broke." Then I closed my eyes again and tried to block him out.

"You did this?" I heard Kieran ask the professor.

"Apparently, when I broke her circle, it released a necromantic field across the cemetery..." the professor explained. His voice seemed to come from further away than Kieran's had.

"That's just great," Kieran said, unwittingly echoing my words. "Could this night possibly get any worse?"

"For all I know," the professor said, "her energies have reached across the entire world."

My breath caught at the professors words. Was that really possible? Could I have raised an entire planet's dead? I reached into the night, searching with a sense that I can't explain. There was a part of me, that came from the same dark, silent place that I kept buried deep inside, that could always find the dead. I used that sense now, reaching further than I'd ever stretched it before. I searched in all directions, outside of the cemetery.

I found the dead. The long dead, and the recently deceased alike. I found them, lying silently and undisturbed. In their tombs, in their graves, two of them still in their beds, one, still bleeding, in the street.

"No," I said, relieved, "it's just here." I opened my eyes. Kieran stared at me warily. The professor looked suspicious.

"Do you know how to put things back?" Kieran asked, very carefully. I picked up the jar of salt. It was lying on its side, beside me. There was only an inch of the white granules inside.

"Yes," I said, answering Kieran's question with as much care as he had asked it, "but we're going to need more salt."

"Salt?" Kieran repeated, confused. The professor and I had already started running into the crowd.

"Get Jack," I called back over my shoulder. I could see Jack on the other side of the hill, still fighting the undead. "Get the living out of here." I ran through the crowds, screaming for salt. I felt like an ad for the fucking stuff. If I hadn't known better, I would have looked for cameras. I had more important things to look for though. "Does anyone have salt?"

One of the Fae, who was brandishing a flaming branch caught my attention. He handed me the branch and reached into the pocket of his tailcoat. He pulled a wooden box out of an inside pocket. It was attached to a chain, like a fob watch. The other end of the chain was pinned to his coat. He undid the chain and held the box out to me. I handed him the branch back, swapping him for the wooden box on a chain.

If I got out of this alive, I swore, dodging between a sword fight between an elf and a zombie, I would get my own fob box full of salt and I would never ever forget to have it on me.

I ran past Jack, near the entrance of a huge crypt.

"How's it going?" I asked, as he pushed one of the undead down the stairs.

"I wish the living would do what they're fucking told," he snapped.

"You and me both," I said, running on. I'd only managed to find one small salt shaker since the wooden box. At this rate, all of the undead would have made their way out of the cemetery before I'd gathered enough salt to cast a circle. Then, I'd go down in history as the necromancer who screwed things up, royally.

"Laurel," Kieran said, swerving to run beside me. "The professor is at the north entrance, he said to meet him there."

"Which way's north?" I asked.

"That way," Kieran said, pointing left. I turned suddenly and started running full pelt towards the north entrance. The professor bloody well better have a mountain's worth of salt. "Here," Kieran said, catching up with me. He handed me a makeshift fabric sack. I grabbed it and kept running. He fell back, behind me, and went back to rounding people up. It wasn't until I got to the north entrance that I had a look in the 'bag.' Kieran had tied his jacket up, like Blinky Bill did with a handkerchief. I smiled when I realized that. I couldn't imagine Kieran watching Blinky Bill. They probably didn't even have it in Faerie Land.

"Hey," I said to the professor, pulling Kieran's jacket open.

"Do we have enough?" he asked, holding out a mismatched assortment of bottles and jars. I showed him the two containers I'd managed to find. "That's it?" he asked, sounding like he was going to cry. I finally managed to get Kieran's jacket open and looked inside. Tears pricked at my eyes. I held the bag out to the professor. "Thank god," he said, leaning against the fence.

"No," I said, quietly, staring down at the bottles and bottles of salt in Kieran's jacket. "Thank Kieran."

"How are we doing this?" the professor asked, dividing the salt into equal portions.

"Does that amethyst still have my energies?" I asked.

"This?" the professor asked, pulling the black bag out of his pocket. "Should do, I haven't cleansed it yet."

"Good," I said, tying Kieran's jacket across my body by the sleeves, turning it into a side-slung bag. "Can you channel my energies when you visualize your part of the circle?" I asked, loading my share of the salt into my bag.

"I think so," the professor said, uncertainly.

"You think so?" I asked.

"I understand the theory," he explained, "but I haven't done it before." He swallowed, nervously. "Are you sure it won't work with a shared circle?"

I shook my head. "It might," I said, "but I'm not willing to take the chance if it doesn't."

"Okay," the professor said, squaring his shoulders, "I'll do my best."

"Good man," I said, patting him on the arm. "Meet you on the other side."

I opened my first container of salt and started pouring it across the ground. The professor started his line of salt directly over the top of mine, so that there wouldn't be any gaps in the completed circle. I gave him a nod before turning my full concentration to the task at hand.

I tried to ignore the thought that this was a stupid plan. I felt stupid, praying that a circle made of salt would help me regain control of the undead. It seemed so juvenile. But it had to work. It had to work, because if it didn't, I didn't know what else to try. This was all I had.

I suddenly wished that I'd paid more attention to Catriona's advanced lessons. My reasoning at the time was that just because I was a necromancer, didn't mean I had to be completely pagan. Clinging stubbornly to my last vestige of normalcy, I ignored some of the most valuable lessons I'd ever been given. The entire time I spent walking the edge of the graveyard, I cursed myself for not directing my teenage angst at something that was actually useless to me. Like quadratic equations.

I noticed that my container was running low on salt. I pulled another container out of my bag and flicked it open. Watching the levels on the first container carefully, I started pouring from the second container just before the first one became empty. That way I could be sure that there weren't any gaps in my circle.

I dropped the empty container to the ground behind me. I felt guilty about littering, especially since it was in a graveyard, but I didn't want to confuse one of my containers of salt with an empty container. Besides, I figured I could always come back and clean up after I got the dead back in their graves.

I went through the same process of switching containers every time I ran low on salt. Luckily, most of the undead seemed to be migrating to the centre of the graveyard still, so I didn't run into any of them while I was walking the edge of the cemetery. The biggest problem I had, apart from fighting back panic and the pressing fear that I'd run out of salt, was navigating around the fire at the edge of the graveyard.

I didn't want to run the line of my circle too close to the fire, because I was afraid that the heat might damage the integrity of the circle. But I wasn't sure if the crooked slump that the circle would end up with if I went around the fire would damage the strength of my circle just as much. I wished that the professor had given me his phone number, but I didn't even know if the Fae had phones, and he was pretty old so even if they did he might have been a total technophobe. Unless he was one of those old guys who are still 'with it' and miraculously knew more about technology than gen x.

I caught myself at the end of this tangent and made myself focus. I wasn't supposed to be thinking about technology, damn it. I had magic to do. I redoubled my efforts at focusing on the circle. I stretched my energy along the line of salt. I could feel the line moving further in the opposite direction. On my end, the line of salt had stopped moving so the professor must have been doing his job right. I sighed in relief, realizing that I could feel the full extent of the circle taking place around me. It was one less thing to worry about.

I stared at the flames, towering above me. If I remembered correctly, salt would give colour to a burning flame, but it wouldn't actually burn away. If that was right, then I might be able to cast my circle through the fire, without it damaging anything. I looked around the cemetery, trying to see if there was anyone around to ask. Either the fire in this section of the graveyard had actually scared everyone away, or Kieran and Jack were doing their job really well. Either way, I was on my own.

If I failed, it would all be on me. I wanted to curl up in a ball and give up. Tears of stress were running down my cheeks. I had to make a decision. I wasn't sure what the right decision was. I wished Catriona was there. She would have known what to do. I know she would have. My auntie probably wouldn't have even paused at the flames. She would have just done what needed to be done and moved on.

I took a deep breath. I poured salt into my hand, not trusting my skills with pouring it directly from the canister. I took a few steps forward, dribbling the salt out as close to the fire as I could get it. Then I stopped. The heat from the flames beat down across my face. Smoke poured out across the cemetery in a slow lazy flow. I sidestepped quickly around the fire, flinging the salt into the heart of the flames in a round sweeping gesture so that the salt flew out in an arcing stream. The fire surged up, bright orange and hot. I prayed that it didn't mean the salt was burning off.

I made my way to the other side of the fire, watching the last granules fall to the ground beside the fire. I moved in beside the fire and began pouring salt from the canister again. I could feel the circle stretching out beside me in a long unbroken curve. I exhaled, relieved, feeling my chest burn as my breath returned to normal. I hadn't even been aware of the mounting pain in my chest as I held my breath around the fire.

Jack and Kieran met up with me around the same time the professor did. They chased three people out through the remaining gap in the circle, which was about two meters wide. The professor capped his container of salt and looked at me expectantly.

"Are you in?" I asked, before closing the circle. "Or are you out?"

"Which would you prefer?" the professor asked.

"Where will you do the least damage?" I asked, quietly.

"In," the professor said, stepping away from the line of salt, moving further into the graveyard. "This way I can see what's happening."

"Promise not to interfere, even if you think I'm in danger."

"I promise," he said, "to only interfere if you tell me you need help."

"Then you won't interfere," I said.

"As you say," the professor gave a half bow.

"What about us?" Jack asked, already outside of the area where the circle would be closed. Kieran was hovering next to him. Not hovering like a faerie. They didn't have any wings. Just hovering in the normal, uncertain, human way.

"Do you want to stay?" I asked, frowning.

"Fuck no," Jack laughed. "I need a drink after this much. I don't think I could handle anything else tonight."

"Me neither," I shrugged. "But you've gotta do what you've gotta do," I said, putting on the stupid American accent which went hand in hand with the saying. Jack looked at me worried. "It's okay," I smiled, gathering forced confidence around me like a shield, "I can handle it. You're off the hook."

"Thanks," Jack said.

I refocused my attention to the circle, and tilted the container of salt.

"What about me?" Kieran interrupted. I up-righted the container and looked up at him.

"What about you?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Can I..." he asked, shifting uncomfortably, "can I stay in?"

"Ah..." my mouth literally fell open in surprise. "Okay." Kieran jogged the few steps back into the circle. He looked disproportionately pleased with my answer. As though he were five years old and I'd just told him we were going to Disneyland rather than a grown - man? elf? - elf-man being invited into a circle filled with the walking dead. I frowned, making a mental note to try and work out what the go with Kieran's eccentricities was when I had more time.

"Everyone ready?" I asked, just in case there were any last minute changes of heart before I closed the circle. There weren't.

I poured the last few steps of salt in silence. The circle snapped closed around me. Then I felt like I was being torn apart. You know that old death sentence, where the prisoners were drawn and quartered? It was like that. Only, instead of my body being pulled apart, it was my soul. And instead of being quartered, I was being ripped apart in a thousand different directions, all at once. The only thing that could have made that moment worse, I thought, was if Eolande was still coming after me.

Then I felt her stir.

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Hullo everyone! Or anyone!

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x zuz