CZM Book Club: The Barrow Will Send What it May, Chapter Four

But now that break is over, so we're back to reading The Barrel Will Send what It May. If you're just joining us here, well that's a weird place to start a book. But if you need a reminder about what happened, our protagonists had just broken into a man's workplace slash store office, and we're like, I wonder if there's magie here, and then they tried to go through a door, and then magical fire came and enveloped Heather. In fact, if you want the last paragraph of what

just happened, I'll just do that for you. I'll just go back just a paragraph or two. I grabbed for her the fingers of my hand, my goat bit in hand went through the doorway and it tingled My wrist though passed through and it hurt like fire. While most of the times I've gotten burned, fire only hurts later once the nerve ending started growing back or whatever, this time it hurt immediately, like how fire hurts later. I got a hold of her jacket and yanked back. She

fell on top of me. She stopped screaming. If she was breathing, it was too faint to hear. Done undone as the end of the chapter three, but now I'm going to read chapter four, because this episode is chapter four. Chapter four. She was alive. I found her pulse easily enough. What the fuck? Brynn said, what the fuck? I agreed. We dragged Heather back into the office. Brynn ran back into the hallway and I heard her phone snap a photo.

She slammed the cursed door shut. Found our fucking magician, I said, as I worked the office window open, Brynn shut and locked the office door. Doomsday. Brynn said, she'll know what to do. I climbed out the window. Bryn handed me Heather and we ran for it. We couldn't lock the window behind us, we couldn't grab our bikes. Brynn put Heather into a fireman's carry and we made for a side street, just as the nineteen fifties pickup truck roared down the main street and skidded to a

halt out in front of the building. I didn't think he saw us. Don't die, Brynn said, as we ran. Don't die, don't die, don't die. Doomsday met us at the front door of the library, and we ran up the steps. I was just out of Breatha's brin, and I didn't have one hundred some extra pounds of friend thrown over my shoulders. I swept dozens of books off the table, and Bryn laid Heather down atop it. I told Doomsday the gist of what had happened. You've got

a hospital in town, I asked. As Vasillis came up after us. He shook his head. Nearest one's about an hour east. We've got a little emergency clinic, though, won't do any good, Doomsday said, as she inspected the patient. It's not physical damage, it's metaphysical damage. That green fire, it's called witch's fire. Rebecca mentioned it once burns the not the soul. Imagine you've got a second body, a

metaphysical body. The bones of that second body, that's your soul, which is fire, burns away that second skin, the membrane that protects the soul. It'll kill you as sure as being flayed. We've got to try to reverse the damage, Vascilla said, We've got to regenerate that second skin. No, Doomsday said, too dangerous. Just need to soothe the burn, keep it from getting infected while it heals itself. That could take years. Vascilla shouted, I've been studying this for

a decade. Half of what you know you learned here today, reading from my collection. He rose to his full height. Everyone freaks out a little bit differently. Vasillis apparently freaks out by trying to dominate people. He wasn't winning me over, and she'll be in a coma the whole time. Doomsday agreed, we have to do this now, Vasillis said. Doomsday looked thoughtful. I was going to back her whatever she chose. That was an easy conclusion to reach. She's your friend, Doomsday said,

at last, she's my everything. The two of them together prepared the ritual. Vasillis was the teacher, Doomsday the student. It was sort of bizarrely elaborate, complete with wringing the floor with herb infused salts and washing Heather's nude body with oils. Brynn and I stayed out of the way, watching from a couch in the corner. Brynn was folded in on herself and worry. I held her. Vasillis chanted

in Greek and English. A supernaturally bright red flush moved across Heather's skin in the wake of his hands as he encanted by the look on his face and the sweat beginning to form on his brow. It wasn't working. After a minute, maybe Doomsday joined him. She too looked desperate. I heard a crack as Vasillis's hands jerked into an unnatural position. He fainted, crumpling down onto himself and the floor.

Then Heather screamed. Then Heather died. Vulture and Thursday came back that evening before Vassilis came to Doomsday had briefed them over the phone shortly after it happened, but I imagine it was still quite a shock to walk into the apartment. Heather was laid out on the table, still with a sheet covering everything but her face. Vasilis was passed out on the floor in a fetal position. Doomsday

was pacing. Brynn was sobbing. I was holding her with my good hand, my wounded hand, the hand that the goat had bitten, the hand that hadn't been burned by the witch's fire. I didn't let it touch her. I was afraid of my own hand. What did you find, Doomsday asked the boys. She put on a kettle for tea. Sometimes it was unclear if that woman was capable of expressing emotion. I guests. Vulture said, I guess that still matters more than ever. Doomsday said, she wasn't wrong. We

found their car, Thursday said. Pushed into a lake close to the trailhead, Vulture found the treadmarks and the dirt. Even six months later, I wouldn't have noticed them. I dove in and found the car, and Doomsday asked, and it's a sunken car. Thursday said, that's it, that's all. No skeletons, no backpacks, just a fucking car. Bacillis stirred Breyne and I jumped up and helped him to his feet, then to a chair. Doomsday set the tee in front of him. Maybe she hadn't been as callous as I assumed.

We are going to talk about this, Doomsday said, kneeling on the floor in front of his chair. Let me be If I leave you alone right now, you may never emotionally recover from what's happened. I don't care. Methodically, he pulled on his mangled hands and worked them back into place. I never seen anyone injured like that, and I never seen anyone heal themselves like that. When a person is dying, you don't stop to wait for their permission to intervene medically. You know that you acted on that.

The same is true now for you. I never even imagined this side of Doomsday. I assumed she didn't have a nurturing bone in her body. Tough love is still love. Though you were right, Vascilla said, she was too far gone to heal. We should have soothed her wounds instead of trying to directly reverse the damage. Is that what you want to hear? That's true, Doomsday said, But it's immaterial. I could have been wrong. You did what you felt like you had to do, which is always ethically better

than doing nothing. Then what are we going to talk about? Well, they're going to talk about these ads, eh, eh, find the most emotionally impactful part of the story and interrupt it with advertisements. That's the way of the world. Here's the ads and we're back. Then what are we going to talk about? We're going to talk about Barrow because I don't know the first thing about emotional support, but I want to get you problem solving instead. I want

you to worry about this later soon. Even think of problem solving right now as your emotional tourniquet to stop the bleeding before you can get real support. What does this mean? Brinn asked and showed Vasillis a photo of the Greek carving over the door. Vulture on Thursday, who hadn't yet seen it, stood behind him to look as well. None that are living may pass Doomsday nodded. That's about

what I figured. She steepled her fingers. How long have you known that Sebastian Miller was responsible for the resurrection of a Sola and Gertrude. I didn't know. You're not an idiot, It was only I guess you are lucky. I'm not in a blaming people mood. Doomsday said, blaming people moods are the opposite of getting shit done moods, and I'm in a getting shitit done mood. Vasillis nodded weakly. I had no idea. When a Sola came back, she wouldn't talk to us. But when Gertrude came back to yeah,

I suspected. Was he ever in here? Ever? Checking out books on magic? All the good stuff is closed to the public. It's all up here. Thursday nodded. He did check out a book on modern Greek last winter, returned it not a week later. I was disappointed, because it would be nice to have people locally I could talk to. That's how he knew the right words for the barrier, Doomsday said, My hand went through the barrier without burning. I said, let me see it, Vasillis said. I showed him.

He whispered arcane words, throwing them forcefully from his lungs, as though afraid of them, then held his hands above my hands. My left hand, my undamaged hand glowed red. My right hand was unchanged. This hand, he said, it doesn't have a soul. Cool, I said, Bryn laughed a little, then got self conscious. What does that mean? Practically almost nothing. Enough wounds like that and you'll die. But I don't think I'll have any effect on you other than that. Okay,

Thursday said, this is easy enough. The barrier won't let anyone through who's living. An undead hand doesn't count as living. I bet a soul in Gertrude don't either. Get one of them to head on through find out what happened. They won't do it, I said, think about it. They've got to know more than they're telling us already. If they want wanted to help more, they'd have offered. Gertrude's probably in on it. Thursday said, they're married, after all.

I get resurrecting your dead wife, I said, but I wonder why a sola we resurrect? Heather Bascilla said, to get through the barrier. I looked at Doomsday, expecting her to shoot him down. Yeah, Doomsday said. Instead. She put her hand to her cheeks, scratching in thought, yeah, that would that would work. She'd be able to go through the boundary. Are you fucking kidding? Thursday asked? The thing is? Doomsday said, still thinking it over, I don't think we

could do it without the Book of Barrow. I only know a few of his minor rituals, not resurrection. Also, don't you have to end one life to bring one back? Yes, he said, well you can bring them back temporarily as long as the ritual is still being cast. But if you don't give Barrow his due at the end of the ritual, right back to death, the person goes, this is really obviously a shit idea. Thursday said, why. Doomsday asked, are you telling me that if you could bring Heather

back right now that you wouldn't do it? It's unnatural. Thursday said, it's fucking magic. Doomsday said, none of it's any more or less natural than anything else. I'm not here just to learn about this stuff in the abstract. I'm here to gain and wield power over others. Thursday asked, no, God damn it, not over others. Everything is power. A fucking gun is power. I used one once to end three lives, but it wasn't because I wanted to wield power over them. It's that I needed them to stop

wielding power over me. It's a pretty fucking massive power imbalance in this world, and I don't see why we should be afraid to correct it. Doomsday stood up, bringing her teacup with her taking a long sip. Are humans supposed to fly? I don't know. We built airplanes though. Are we supposed to bring back the dead? I don't know, but EMTs do it all the time. It's not a question of whether or not it's ethical to bring Heather back from the dead. It's whether or not we can

and whether or not it will further our aims. She turned his face. Vacillis, if it's a life for a life, will you do it? Will you die for her? Yes? Vacillis answered, but then doubt clouded his features. I don't know, moot point, Vulture said, we don't have the book. Maybe he's got it on him, but I bet it's on the other side of that barrier. I say we send a drone, Doomsday laughed, I wasn't joking. Vulture said, we get a drone to fly down there with a camera.

Where the hell would we get a drone? Doomsday asked, well, if they only looked at our sponsors, they might find that we might be advertising drones. I don't know. Maybe there's only one way to find out, and it's still listen and we're back. Oh like I'm the one with the unrealistic plan. I'm not the one planning human sacrifice and reanimating corpses. Oh shit, wait, Doomsday said, what Thursday asked?

Doomsday went to the pile of the book still scattered across the floor next to the table, and picked one out, flipping through the pages. Yeah, okay, no resurrection for us, she said. Quote Barrow an endless spirit who stands at the gate between the living and the dead, waiting to tear it from its hinges. While capable of granting power over many things, he is mostly known for his ability to reverse to death by imbuing the body of the

dead with a peace of his soul. It is believed that enough of his soul passes from the land of the dead into the land of the living, the gates will open, the distinction between the living and the dead will be forever destroyed. The living will storm Heaven, the dead will storm Earth. So Vulture said, if enough people are resurrected all at once, we get some Bible style apocalypse. Basically, Doomsday said cool Walter said, how many resurrections do you think?

I asked, No idea. I looked to vacillus. You knew about this apocalypse thing, yeah, he said, looking down at his hands, and you didn't say anything about it. Because I want to bring back Heather. Holy shit, Brnn said, If I really could trader sorry ass for Heather, I would do it in a second. Hey, don't be mean to him, Vulture protested, he's just well, he's had a

rough day. The odds of one more piece of barrow being the tipping point are so incredibly low, As Silas said, these rituals have been performed for thousands of years and it hasn't happened yet. We could bring Heather back and just her and would almost certainly be fine, Almost certainly.

Thursday mumbled, I would bring Clay back. I realized that all of the sudden, I would go to Denver and I would dig up the body of my old best friend and I would bring him back to life because the world needed someone like Clay, because I needed Clay. I don't know that I would kill to do it. I don't know if i'd sacrifice myself to do it, but I might risk the apocalypse for him. All of this is one hundred percent beside the point. Thursday cut in.

We don't have the book. We can't resurrect anyone. We probably can't find a drone in town. Vulture looked, sad. We can either try harder to recruit a Sola or Gertrude, or we can confront Sebastian. Head on. Thursday said, those are our options, or we follow Sebastian and figure out how he gets into his basement. I said, he's not resurrected, not that we know of. He's got to get in there somehow. He can probably bring the barrier up and down at will. Doomsday said, and it will last until

he's unconscious or dead, like asleep. I asked, no, actually unconscious. How do you summon a barrier like that anyway? Thursday asked, can we do that and keep ourselves safe? Doomsday looked to Vasillis, implying that she didn't know. It's not Barrow's work. Specifically, a lot of spirits can grant, which is fire, but it's still necromancy. The only ritual I know it involves inflicting immense pain on an unwilling victim. That's out, then,

Vulture said. Thursday still looked thoughtful. Hey, Brynn said from where she stood by the window. Is there supposed to be a black suv parked out in front of the library. That a normal thing, no Vasillis said, instead of coming to look, though, he dropped his head in sorrow. I bet it's the magic Feds. Vulture said. How'd they find us? I asked, I don't know. Vulture said, probably the tracking devices we all have in our pockets. I keep trying to get you all on burner phones and VPNs, but

you never listen. What do we do? Vasillis asked. It was hard to understand him with his head buried in his hands. We sit tight, I said, it just drove off. Brynn reported, problem solved forever. Vulture said, what were the plates? I asked, California could be tourists. Vasillis said he still didn't look up. Now, I bet it's the magic Feds, Vulture said, doesn't change anything. Thursday said, just raises the steaks is all. It's never good to get caught with

a body. They won't be after us, I said, they'll be after the book, and fuck if they get it. I assure him, So glad you came to town, Vasillis said, he tried for biting sarcasm. But halfway through his sentence, his voice broke and he started to cry. They're there, Vulture said, rubbing our host's shoulders. It's okay, And Vulture thought for a minute, I mean, it's not actually okay. Silence reigned in the apartment, but I guess you knew that. That night, Vasillis slept in the living room and gave

Brinn and me his room. He said he wanted to keep vigil. I could think of a few reasons it was a bad idea to let him, but I wanted to sleep in a bed, so I didn't say anything. Took off to scope out the town. That was also a bad idea. There were magicians and magic feds about, but I knew my opinion on the matter wouldn't have any bearing on his actions, so I didn't say anything. Thursday, actually sensible decided to keep watch from inside the library

rather than standing out front with a gun. For a long while, I laid on my back on Vasillisa's bed. Brynn was curled up with her head on my shoulder. Racking sobs from the living room filled the air, and I focused my attention on Bryn's breathing. Today, fucking sucks, I said, at last, Yeah, it does, being demon Hunters's garbage. Brynn laughed a little bit at that, but it wasn't her giggle. He was too soft, too tenuous, to be

her real laugh. I don't say this much, Brynn said, and I don't even know where I mean by it. But I want to go home. God, I said me too. I held her tighter. The crying in the living room hit a crescendo, and it sounded like the scillis was trying to vomit his heart out of his chest. How do you think we get ourselves thrown in the same prison if we go down for this, I asked. If

we're lucky, they'll send us to prison. Bryn said, I've got a feeling though, that this is an X file shit, and they just quietly make it so you and I were never born. Who would have figured Moulder and Scully are the bad guys after all? I thought it over for a while. If we can see them, they're not after us, I said, huh. Feds don't show up looking obviously like FEDS unless they're there to scare you, not

arrest you. It's the mortar shell. You don't hear that kills you, Brine asked, yeah, hope there aren't more mortar shells around. The crying from the living room faded into silence. I like you, Brin said. We don't get to choose how we die, only how we live. And I like you and I'm glad I got to know you. I like you too. You know what Heather and I talked about last night? So late Berne asked, what's that you well me but me as relates to you. I told her how I felt about you, how I wasn't sure

what to do. She told me, I'm going to get the exact words wrong, which is going to drive me fucking crazy because it's one of the last things she ever got to say. She told me that it's okay to let yourself love someone, but that letting yourself love someone is like letting someone have the keys to your control room so that you can share the responsibility of running yourself with someone else. It's worth doing, and people will get in there and pull the wrong levers. That's

just the risk you got to take. I like that, I said, What was with the Ora boris? New start friend said? She choked up a little on her words. She wanted a snake that eats its own tail to remind herself that things go in cycles, that it's never too late for a new start. There wasn't anything to say to that, there's always time for a new start, until one day there isn't holding one another trying not to think about the world outside that bedroom. We slowly

let sleep come for us. Dun dun dum. That's the end of chapter four. What happens in chapter five, Well, you're gonna have to wait until probably next Sunday. But that's it for Cool Zone Media book Club. And if you enjoyed this show, then listen to more of it. I don't know, it's been going for a while. You can listen to the backlog. Oh. Also, the sequel to

this book is available for pre order right now. If you're enjoying this book and you're like, wow, I really want to get the next one, you can order The Immortal Choir Holds Every Voice, which is coming out from Strangers and Entangled Wilderness. In June twenty twenty five, we finished a successful Kickstarter. But if you order it now, if you pre order it from I Think It's Akpress, Firestorm Books, or the publishers, Strangers and Entangled Wilderness. You'll

get a signed copy and it'll continue the adventures. That's what's happening in the meantime. See you all too bye. It could Happen here as a production of cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from cool Zone Media, visit our website coolzonemedia dot com, or check us out on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. You can find sources where it Could Happen Here, updated monthly at coolzonemedia dot com slash sources. Thanks for listening.