The Keepers
Part 22
by Elizabeth

"Jesus, Julia," Ben breathed, pulling her close for a 
hug.

Julia buried her face in Ben's shoulder and fought 
the swell of pain that rose up at the memory of her 
father's suicide.

While Ben comforted Julia, Mike turned to Gene, Paul, 
and Ace. "What about me? What am I looking at?"

"We've already seen signs that point to the fact that 
you might be..." Gene trailed off, glancing at Paul.

"Mike...as a Lazarus, it's very likely that 
you're..." Paul tried.

Ace glared at them both. "Gene, you're a pansy. And 
you're giving ME shit for not being honest with my 
own grandson." Ace turned to Mike. "Mike, you're 
probably a Necromancer."

Mike froze. Crystal stirred in Mike's lap, lifting 
her head and cooing softly.

"I'm a WHAT?!?!" he whispered.

"A Necromancer. You've come back from the dead by 
force of will, and brought your brother back from the 
dead without ritual sacrifice."

"I'm Lazari, though." Mike rasped.

"Even the Lazari can't raise the dead the way you 
did." Gene finally spoke up. "It costs them a great 
deal of energy to do what you did with no 
preparation, and even then it takes three days. Same 
for when the Lazari bring THEMSELVES back from the 
dead."

Mike shook himself and instinctively reached for 
Crystal. She gently nuzzled his fingers, nipping at 
him as he reached to stroke her beak. "Okay, so I'm a 
Necromancer. What's that mean?"

"It means you can bring the dead back with a mere 
thought, including yourself, with no outside help and 
without the assistance of a ritual sacrifice."

"But that kind of power comes with a price, Mike. A 
Necromancer can only raise the dead with such 
efficiency because they are capable of tapping into 
the power of life itself. You're also capable of 
bringing out the best in that which already lives."

Mike thought about his near-suicide, about the way 
the world came alive before him. He also remembered 
the way he'd manipulated the very life within Light, 
how he'd forced the man's own body to betray him.

"Your power over the living is absolute, Mike." Gene 
warned. "They are forever in your control, just as 
you're forever in the power of Morpheus. Your tie to 
the dead makes you vulnerable to him."

"The life you can call forth is dangerous in and of 
itself, too, Mike." Paul added. "Life is incredibly 
powerful, a flame that can and WILL burn if you try 
to touch it."

Mike thought about Paul's remarks. "And that flame 
can burn out if I coax it too hard."

Paul nodded.

"Raising the dead is also like draining energy, in 
that both are addictive." Ace pointed out. "You have 
a great gift, Mike, but you have to learn to use it 
wisely. You have to exercise control when it's simply 
a person's time to go."

"I get it." Mike cut him off with a gentle smile. 
"Don't meddle with Fate. I understand...hell, I'm 
living it! I'm the personification of 'don't try this 
at home, boys and girls.'"

Ace chuckled. "Smart kid."

"And me?" Jim asked, gently trying to extricate Ruby, 
who was trying to slither under his shirt.

"You have to be careful how you make use of your 
teletactile abilities." Gene warned. "Prolonged use 
can make you more reliant on them than you are on 
your other senses. It's another dependency game, 
possibly even more dangerous than Ben's plight."

Jim grimaced. "Damn...and I worried whem Mom said 
that spending too much time in my room with the 
Playboys could make me go blind."

"We can find help for all of you, I'm certain." Julia 
assured the group, drawing away from Ben with a 
grateful smile. "At least if you don't mind dealing 
with the refuse of society."

Jim frowned at Julia. "You don't mean Oz?"

Mike frowned. "Oswald Correctional? What about that 
joint?"

"The same." Julia grinned conspiratorially.

Jim groaned, then turned to Mike. "Remember their 
plans five years ago to equip some prisons in the 
country for User inmates? They got to Oswald Maximum 
Security Correctional Facility around the time you 
died. They have a cell block nicknamed 'Emerald City' 
which is both an experimental prison rehabilitation 
program AND is solidly equipped to handle Users."

"The prison psychologist, Sister Peter Marie 
Reimundo, did some work with my father back when the 
O'Ryan Institute was founded." Julia explained. "I 
know some of the Users she counsels, and of them 
there are at least two NETS victims, one teletactile 
telekinetic, and one human Necromancer in hiding. As 
far as the rest of the world's concerned, he's just 
an animator."

"And you think they'll help us?"

Everyone turned towards the doorway where Rhea stood, 
hair mussed and cheeks flushed with sleep. While 
Ben's room was playing hospital to Peter, Anna had 
lent hers to Rhea as she slept off her 
transformation.

"Beloved." Gene murmured softly, rising to walk over 
and wrap her in his snug embrace.

Rhea sighed and cuddled sleepily into his arms. "Mmm, 
nice. I passed out...what happened to me?"

"You changed form." Gene explained. "It's part of 
your power...you're a Changeling now."

"Y'mean like a werewolf?" she asked, lifting her head 
to stare into his face.

"Not quite...Changelings are like lycanthropes, but 
the forms are always supernatural. Not wolves and 
leopards, but griffins and gargoyles. You, milady, 
are a dragon."

Rhea looked thoughtful a moment, then grinned. 
"Cool."

"We can even find help for her, too." Julia insisted. 
"There are countless lycanthrope inmates in Oz, and a 
few Changelings, too. I'll see if Sister Pete has any 
she's currently working with."

Everyone in the room shared a look.

"Call her up." Gene finally instructed. "Let's see 
what we can do."

**********

"Count!"

Ryan O'Reily groaned, clumsily sliding from the top 
bunk in his pod as the harsh lights of the prison 
assaulted his eyes for morning count.

//Right in the middle of another "Miss Sally" 
dream!// he groused silently.

"Ryan?"

"Up and at 'em, Cyril." Ryan prodded, gently shaking 
his brother's shoulder for emphasis. Cyril O'Reily 
rose from his bunk and both brothers dressed quickly 
to line up for morning count.

Later on, as Ryan was working in the kitchen during 
breakfast, he noticed the approach of Officer Claire 
Howell.

//Shit, what's that psycho bitch want?// he wondered 
aprehensively.

"O'Reily, come with me." she barked. "Sister Pete 
wants a word."

Confused but glad to get a reprieve from his usual 
duties, Ryan obediently followed the correctional 
officer to Sister Peter Marie's office. Howell stood 
outside as Ryan entered the room.

There he found four other inmates and three hacks, 
among them CO supervisor Sean Murphy.

"What's up?" he asked Murphy.

The older Irishman just shrugged. "Not sure. We're 
supposed to watch you dinks until Sister Pete gets 
here."

Ryan turned around and surveyed his fellow inmates.

"You know why you're here?" he asked the other 
prisoners.

Kareem Said shook his head. "I was told nothing."

Christopher Keller shrugged lazily, dark blue eyes 
smoldering. "Beats me. Maybe Sister Pete got lonely."

"Lonely for you, you think?" Tobias Beecher chuckled, 
shooting Keller a heated glance.

"Not likely." Miguel Alvarez sneered.  After a 
murderous glare from Keller, the Latino obligingly 
changed the subject. "The hacks took off our 
inhibitors, though, so maybe they need us to do the 
hocus-pocus thing, y'know?"

Murphy reached for a set of keys on his belt and 
gestured to Ryan. "Turn around, O'Riley...we'll let 
you loose for a bit. Gonna behave?"

"Irish Boy Scout's honor." Ryan vowed jokingly as he 
turned his back to the CO. Reaching under his shirt, 
Ryan untangled his gold cross from a simple silver 
chain joined at both ends by a small steel orb. 
Murphy grabbed the chain from behind and slid it so 
the orb rested against the back of O'Reily's neck. He 
inserted the key into a small opening on the orb, 
unlocking the inhibitor and removing it.

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck and shivered as he 
felt the warm tingle of his power rising to the 
surface. He glanced at Sister Pete's desk and tested 
it by reaching out with The Touch and lifting an 
orchid out of the bud vase that sat at the corner. 
The rest of the room watched as the blossom rose 
seemingly on invisible strings. It shifted and spun 
as Ryan examined it with invisible hands, savoring 
the feel of its soft petals and pliant stem as his 
thoughts caressed them. God, he'd forgotten how GOOD 
it felt to have power...

"You promised, O'Reily." Murphy warned.

Ryan tossed the CO a rakish smile, letting the orchid 
slide back into the vase.

"Just stretching my muscles, Murph." he soothed, 
walking over to perch on the edge of the desk. He 
picked the flower up again in his normal hands and 
toyed with it, waiting.

Whatever Sister Pete wanted, it was worth it to have 
The Touch again, even for just a few minutes.