If I Should Die

“As guérisseurs became increasingly scarce,” Mr. Gold continued, gesturing toward the statue, “the number who possessed gifts aiding revenants diminished, and revenants’ knowledge of them fell out of the common use. I, however, am in possession of some ancient tablets that spell out some of the gifts of these guérisseurs.” He turned to Bran. “You can see our auras, can you not?”

 

 

“Yes,” Bran affirmed. “The practicing guérisseurs of my family can see both human and revenant auras. It is easy to distinguish between the two.”

 

He glanced at me as he said this, and I smiled. “I remember your mother saying that Jules had the aura of a forest fire,” I said, thinking back to the different haloes depicted in the cave’s wall paintings.

 

“Yes,” Bran said. “That is their defining trait to us. Which is indicated in the symbol of the signum bardia.” He pointed to the flames on the marble woman’s tattoo.

 

“You can diminish a young revenant’s need to die,” continued Mr. Gold.

 

Bran nodded. “Apparently that is true, but my late mother was not able to find instructions to the actual procedure in our family records.”

 

Our host considered this.

 

“Why would that be useful for a revenant?” Papy asked.

 

“Some revenants fell in love with humans and desired to age at the same rate as their partners,” explained Mr. Gold matter-of-factly. Jules caught my eye and grinned, while out the side of my eye I saw Papy stiffen. I didn’t dare look at him, wishing Mr. Gold would skip on to the next part.

 

“There is also the fact that in ancient times, when the population of the world was smaller, revenants who lived in unpopulated areas might not often find the occasion to rescue humans. They could visit guérisseurs to ease their pain.”

 

Mr. Gold held his hand up to count off guérisseur gifts. “See auras, pacify the need to die . . . and then there is, of course, dispersion,” he said, displaying three fingers.

 

“What is that?” Jules asked.

 

Mr. Gold met Bran’s eye and the healer shrugged. “I haven’t heard of it.”

 

“In our case, not important,” Mr. Gold concluded. “And the fourth and final gift—as far as I know—is re-embodiment. It was noted in ancient records, but examples are extremely rare.

 

“Until Jean-Baptiste mentioned it on the phone this morning, I hadn’t even heard it referred to in contemporary times. And without his suggestion, I would have never guessed that the mysterious symbols on the side of our incense burner had anything to do with it. Now . . . I wonder.”

 

He rubbed his chin contemplatively before turning and leading us farther into the room. “Unfortunately, the knowledge of the actual procedure has been lost with time”—he glanced over his shoulder and gave Bran a significant look—“at least to us revenants. Which is why I am glad you are here, guérisseur.”

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-FOUR

 

 

“AH, HERE IT IS: OUR THYMIATERION,” MR. GOLD said as we approached a large bronze piece that looked like a giant golden chalice. Its rim was level with my chin and its bowl was just as big in diameter: A children’s blow-up pool could fit inside.

 

Engraved flames licked the entire surface of the stem, which was as wide as my waist. And circling the stem about halfway up was a series of saucer-size circles, each engraved with a different object.

 

“As you can see, there are seven symbols,” explained Mr. Gold. “The first one in the series is the signum bardia, which was my indication that this was a revenant-associated piece. And the last in the series, if you follow the circle around to the left of the signum, obviously represents fire,” he said, indicating a circle with a single flame etched inside.

 

“A knife with drops of blood,” said Papy, gesturing to another medallion, “and next to that a fan.” He pointed to a symbol of a stick with a spray of feathers attached to one end.

 

“This looks like some sort of vase or pitcher,” I said, touching an image of a pottery vessel with two handles on the sides.

 

“An amphora or a pot,” Papy said.

 

“That is the symbol of my kind,” said Bran, pointing to a circle showing the same hand as was painted on the cave tombs: palm-side forward, fingers spread, and a tiny flame above each finger.

 

One symbol was left. It was an open box, its slablike lid slid to one side. “What’s this one?” asked Jules, who had been watching silently.

 

“A box,” Papy said and shrugged. “I don’t recognize it as one of the typical ancient themes.”

 

Bran had taken a pencil and was copying the symbols into his book. “The signum and the flame-fingers’ symbols must indicate that the object was used in a ceremony including both revenants and my kind,” he said. “That taken into account, we are left with five symbols in this order: the pot, the knife with blood, the fan, the box, and the fire.”

 

“How about water, blood, air, space, and fire?” I asked, tracing the symbols with my finger.

 

“Historically, the earthen pot symbol stands for clay or earth,” Mr. Gold said. “Blood might take the place of water as a liquid. So it’s only the box that doesn’t fit in with the four elements.”

 

Amy Plum's books