“Edward, why are your pathetic undead still wandering around and not headed home like the rest of the mob?” One of the other young necromancers asked.

Edward scratched his head. Then smoothed his hair back down. He looked back at the village where they had partied the night before and shrugged. “No clue. I guess we'll see if they catch up or not.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I just have the five of them and that first ghoul basically follows me wherever I go. So...” He trailed off with some uncertainty.

“So, you order them to follow you, and they wander around a bit before doing it?”

“Well, it's a slightly unconventional animate spell. It's a bit of a family heirloom.”

“An uncontrolled undead is a danger to everything. You know this. It's drilled into us from day one at school and even before that.”

“Wait 'til lunch. You'll see. They aren't uncontrolled.” Edward said, a little uncertainly.

As soon as Edward and his school mates were out of view, the old ghoul called the other undead to order. “Okay, we don't have much time, you all know what to do. So, let's get busy. Meet back here in an hour.” It pointed to the phantom. “You... Please! Get faster!”

Mr. and Mrs. Smith turned their new wraith forms toward the church, using their fearsome auras to keep the townspeople contained for just a little bit longer. The phantom, Alanso Hubbard when he had been alive, was still having trouble moving against the wind. His job was to head out of town and “Learn to get faster, dammit!” He tried. The skeleton, when asked for a name, said that they were not going to use their former name and hadn't picked one yet. Its job was to do any final wishes the graveyard dead had. This amounted to three short notes left in different houses. Then it did a bit if tidying up after the overnight occupation of the town. The ghoul went to the mayor's house (or at least the fanciest house in the town) and laid one gold coin on the table. He put a note next to it which read, “For the inconvenience.” Then he also helped clean up.

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After about an hour, the ghoul, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and the skeleton met back up. The ghoul looked around at the town. “Well, they didn't kill anyone and it's not too much damage. In any event, the pursuit shouldn't be too motivated to catch up.” He addressed the the other undead. “There is a tradition to these little raids and it's up to us old timers to make sure it's enforced.”

He looked again at the undead with him and noticed that the skeleton had acquired a large, floppy hat and a coat.“ I don't even want to know.” The ghoul shook his head. “Lets see if Alanso has learned to move or if we are leaving him behind as bait.”

As they walked out of town, the old ghoul exclaimed, “Behold – you are now seeing more of the world!” The ghoul gestured excitedly to the forest around them. “Just like I offered last night. In all seriousness, there are some things you need to know. What you are, undead with free will, are vanishingly rare. And borderline illegal in most places. So, learn to fit in and hide it! Or die again.” He chuckled grimly. “Aside from us five, only extremely powerful undead have free will. Or even the use of a brain actually.”

“Yes Mrs. Smith, you too will learn to talk to others. The spell that my young man used won't fully crystallize for about a week. After that you will be able to talk to each other or to a living person, your words forming in their mind. But if you get caught, I can't and won't save you. The kid who raised you doesn't even know that you are anything other than mindless undead. Yet.”

“Ha! Yes, it's going to be a bit of a surprise for him! Actually, his family wanted me to help him become a necromancer. I knew the lad wouldn't be any good on his own. He needs people to talk to. Folks who will keep him honest with himself. That's where you all will come in. I'm also concerned about the breathing company he keeps. But that's my problem.”

“I will tell you the story. But when we aren't in such a hurry perhaps.”

They caught up with Alanso. It turned out that he had learned some speed, but not enough. Eventually the wraiths ended up pushing the phantom to speed him up. Around noon, they caught sight of the rest of the undead and their necromancers. The ghoul started limping again, and their small group slowed down to match pace with him.

“There!” Edward said brightly. “I told you they would be along. Nothing to worry about!”

“Why were they late? Are you that bad of a necromancer? Do they need to be destroyed because they aren't well controlled?” The old ghoul marked that young man in his mind as one to keep an eye on.

Everyone watched as the ghoul slowly limped up to his master. It held out its closed fist toward him and moaned piteously. Edward put his open hand under the ghoul's fist. Two small coins were dropped into it. One tin, one copper.

“Thanks, Gramps.” Edward said with a bit of resignation in his voice.

“You left them behind to loot the town and that's all you got!” laughed the suspicious necromancer. “And you named him Gramps! Whatever. Idiot.”

Once again, Edward questioned his choice of friends and future career. He'd wanted to study math or perhaps music at school. But apparently necromancy paid a lot more and there was the family tradition to consider.