Definition
: brought back—used postpositively
In Latin, redux (from the verb reducere, meaning "to lead back") can mean "brought back" or "bringing back." The Romans used redux as an epithet for the goddess Fortuna with its "bringing back" meaning; Fortuna Redux was trusted to bring those far from home back safely. It was the "brought back" meaning that made its way into English. Redux belongs to a small class of English adjectives that are always used postpositively—that is, they always follow the words they modify.
"It's Alive!" Are the words I'm sure my little brother would have spoken, to accompany his dramatic and optimistic arm gestures, had he been able to. As it was, he had been so traumatised by the death of our pet rabbit, Mr Hannibal Cannibal (My father had suggested this name as a joke, my brother (being only an impressionable four at the time) had liked the sounds of the words so much that he insisted that was the name we went with. Our father was on constant tenterhooks, waiting for the day his son found out the meaning of the words and the resultant consequences. I was sure I'd caught a flash of relief on his face when we'd told him the news of the rabbit's death) that he had not spoken a word since yesterday afternoon.
This morning, he had dragged me from my well earned slumber by repeatedly hitting my snoozing head with a raggedy book called 'The ABCs of Necromancy' that he had found tucked behind the books on the staircase shelves.
My family had inherited the house from our Great Aunt, on the condition that we keep her books. Our Great Aunt had been a great bibliophile with an apparent love of books - regardless of their content. The house was full of books on bee keeping, car mechanics, trains, the great lakes of a country that no longer existed, the myths from a country that never existed,1001 things you can do with spinach, books on stamps, books on birds, books on cooking, books on crocheting, books on weaponry...
And apparently books on necromancy. At this point, I wasn't even surprised.
"Tyke." I said blearily. "I'm pretty sure summoning the dead is a no no."
He bashed me on the head again.
"No, seriously, like, so many things can go wrong."
He countered with the witty and erudite response of....hitting me on the head.
"Fine." I whinged. "Just let me put my dressing gown on and we'll give it a go."
And so I had dutifully dragged on my dressing gown and then dragged my wrecked and worthless carcass down the back garden where I dutifully followed the one, two, three steps to reanimating a beloved family pet. I have to be honest. Some of the diagrams were so gruesome, I did not let my little brother see them, despite how pitifully (and soundlessly, but by God can he do some amazing things with his eyes) he begged.
Mr Hannibal Cannibal was not moving. My little brother threw up his arms again in case that helped.
It did not.
I poked Mr Hannibal Cannibal's (the rabbit must be referred to by its full name at all times - family law as decreed by my mother. Mostly in the hopes that this would prompt my little brother to ask his dad what it meant and my mother and I could sit back and watch that zeppelin burn.) little cold corpse. My brother must have put him in the fridge last night. And suddenly I no longer wanted breakfast. At least, not at home. Maybe I'd treat myself and head down to the drive through instead. Maybe for dinner as well.
Still, not so much as a quiver from Mr Hannibal Cannibal. Thankfully. As much as I'd loved Mr Hannibal Cannibal, I'm not sure by how much that love extended to UnDead Mr Hannibal Cannibal.
"Sorry Tyke." I said, trying to sound contrite and not sleepy and hungover (with a bit of relief thrown in too). "Looks like it didn't work."
As his bottom lip began to quiver, there was a gentle and well mannered cough behind me. I turned to see a small skeleton, about the same size as my brother,so half the size of myself, wearing the traditional black cowl and carrying an nontraditional accordion. At least, nontraditional for here, maybe it was traditional in Poland or something.
At any rate, there was a small grim reaper standing in our back garden, in front of a big glowing light that looked suspiciously like a portal to hell. It was swirly and angry looking and coloured black and red.
The little grim reaper mistook our stares. "I was in band practice." He said sheepishly, gesturing at his accordion. "We play folk music mainly." He paused. "And some metal, on occasion."
"I see." I said faintly. Maybe I should faint, that might be a good way to get out of this mess - or at least get someone else to deal with it.
But my baby brother was the only one here - and although I knew he'd been taught very firmly to not follow strangers, would that still apply to tiny skeleton with accordions?
Time to be a grown up.
I cleared my throat. "May I ask what you're doing here?"
The grim reaper looked confused - as much as a skull could look confused. "You summoned me?"
"We did?"
"Yeeeeahh."
"Oh, well, my apologies. We were, uh, trying to resurrect this bunny, and, um, I don't think it worked correctly. I mean, I did follow the instructions to the letter." I held out the book. He took it and read through the spell.
"So you did it to the letter - even though you didn't want it to work?" He asked.
I gave him the patented older sister death glare - the one used for arrogant ignoramuses who are in danger of upsetting beloved little brothers.
He shut up. I quickly glanced at the Tyke but luckily he was too engrossed int eh flashing lights generated by the portal to pay much attention to what we were saying.
The grim reaper handed the book back to me. "Ok, I got it now. The ritual did work but what it doesn't tell you is that you have to go into the underworld to retrieve said...bunny."
"What?"
"Yeah, it's basically like that greek dude? You know, the singer who went to Hell to retrieve his wife and then cocked it up a the last minute? It's pretty much the same. You have to petition the rulers and then they might send it back with you - or they might not. Depends on the mood. It's pretty cute so you might stand a chance." He shrugged. "But I can't guarantee it. The only thing I can guarantee is that, if you do what that guy did and look over your shoulder, you'll really, really regret it."
"I'm not going to Hell." I said firmly.
He shrugged. "It's not Hell, it's the Underworld, but it's your call."
There was a tug on my dressing gown.
"No more Mr Hannibal Cannibal?" My little brother asked me, worry clouding his face. Also the first words he had managed to speak since yesterday. How I wish he'd picked any others.
"Now sweetie," I said as gently as I could, "You don't want your older sister to go to the Underworld now, do you? What if she gets stuck there?"
"No more Mr Hannibal Cannibal?"
"But sweetie..."
"No more Mr Hannibal Cannibal?" This was not good, his eyes were beginning to fill with tears and his lower lip was starting to tremble viciously.
Oh God.
"Fine, fine!" I said, standing up, "lets go."
"Are you sure?" the grim reaper started to ask, then stopped as his own cowl started to choke him - possibly because I'd grabbed him by the hood and was power walking into the portal before I had a chance to change my mind or my fear (slash common sense) had a chance to catch up with me.
"Tell mum I won't need breakfast!" I shouted back to my brother before the portal closed in on both of us, swallowing us whole.
I won't go into the awful, awful walk through the Underworld. Suffice to say, it was awful.
To give you a very brief overview, although it looked nothing like this, it gave off the same kind of atmosphere a heavy grey council building did - one of those that had been built in the seventies when concrete was all the range and filled with underpaid, overworked people who had initially joined the system to improve it and make a difference to the world and who had now been ground down into the bitterest dregs of their personality.
Think that but as an entire plane of existence. So yeah, it was awful.
My guide said this was more like the postal sorting office of souls after death - so most didn't stay here for eternity but were sent on to different planes. Thankfully.
The office of the rulers was pretty impressive. I mean, still quite stark and barren, but at least the light wasn't so grey and hopeless in here.
When I explained what I had come for, they both gave me blank, astonished gazes.
"A rabbit?" said one. "You came all the way here for a rabbit? I thought human's ate those."
"We do, Sir(?), however this one was a pet of my younger brother and he is inordinately fond of it. If possible, I'd like it back please."
"You really came all this way for a rabbit?" said another (at this point, I honestly couldn't blame them - I was still having trouble processing this fact and it had been my decision."
"Yes." I said patiently.
"But why?" Said the first one, clearly bewildered.
"As i stated, it is the beloved pet of my younger brother. And as my younger brother is precious to me, I want him to be happy."
"I've heard of spoiling your siblings rotten before, but surely this is a step too far?"
"I have also," I continued, "currently had less than three hours sleep. This is because our rabbit died yesterday." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and went to the gallery. "This is what my brother sounded like when we told him the rabbit was dead."
I hit play. Immediately an atrocious, skin crawling wailing filled the room. The rulers slammed their hands over their ears and shouted at me to turn it off. I did so.
"He kept that up for twelve hours - until he passed out." I said bluntly. "The only reason he was doing it today, is because he thought he could bring his bunny back. I do not want to go back and tell him it hasn't worked. If I do that, he might freak out so hard he dies from it and then he will be down here. With you. And he will be upset at this fact."
They gave me Mr Hannibal Cannibal back. All I had to do was walk to the entrance with out turning back.
And that greek guy must have been a moron because with all the weird squelching, growling, bone crunching noises going on behind me, why the hell would you want to turn around?
I returned safely and Mr Hannibal Cannibal was properly reinstated. My little brother was delighted. I mean, I'm not sure the rulers had previously had a lot of dealings with rabbits, because I'm certain that Mr Hannibal Cannibal is the first carnivorous rabbit I've seen but that's a small detail.
However, the voice recording I took must have freaked them out more than I thought - Mr Hannibal Cannibal escaped from his hutch one day and wandered into the nearby road. I was just in time to see him get hit by a car - and then the car spun away, front tire completely wrecked with Mr Hannibal Cannibal just sitting there, perfectly fine and calmly eating roadkill.
I had grabbed Mr Hannibal Cannibal, stuffed him down my top and then run over to check if everyone in the car was alright. Luckily they were.
I was still trying to figure out how to tell my parents that I suspected we had an immortal rabbit on our hands....
"Fine." I whinged. "Just let me put my dressing gown on and we'll give it a go."
And so I had dutifully dragged on my dressing gown and then dragged my wrecked and worthless carcass down the back garden where I dutifully followed the one, two, three steps to reanimating a beloved family pet. I have to be honest. Some of the diagrams were so gruesome, I did not let my little brother see them, despite how pitifully (and soundlessly, but by God can he do some amazing things with his eyes) he begged.
Mr Hannibal Cannibal was not moving. My little brother threw up his arms again in case that helped.
It did not.
I poked Mr Hannibal Cannibal's (the rabbit must be referred to by its full name at all times - family law as decreed by my mother. Mostly in the hopes that this would prompt my little brother to ask his dad what it meant and my mother and I could sit back and watch that zeppelin burn.) little cold corpse. My brother must have put him in the fridge last night. And suddenly I no longer wanted breakfast. At least, not at home. Maybe I'd treat myself and head down to the drive through instead. Maybe for dinner as well.
Still, not so much as a quiver from Mr Hannibal Cannibal. Thankfully. As much as I'd loved Mr Hannibal Cannibal, I'm not sure by how much that love extended to UnDead Mr Hannibal Cannibal.
"Sorry Tyke." I said, trying to sound contrite and not sleepy and hungover (with a bit of relief thrown in too). "Looks like it didn't work."
As his bottom lip began to quiver, there was a gentle and well mannered cough behind me. I turned to see a small skeleton, about the same size as my brother,so half the size of myself, wearing the traditional black cowl and carrying an nontraditional accordion. At least, nontraditional for here, maybe it was traditional in Poland or something.
At any rate, there was a small grim reaper standing in our back garden, in front of a big glowing light that looked suspiciously like a portal to hell. It was swirly and angry looking and coloured black and red.
The little grim reaper mistook our stares. "I was in band practice." He said sheepishly, gesturing at his accordion. "We play folk music mainly." He paused. "And some metal, on occasion."
"I see." I said faintly. Maybe I should faint, that might be a good way to get out of this mess - or at least get someone else to deal with it.
But my baby brother was the only one here - and although I knew he'd been taught very firmly to not follow strangers, would that still apply to tiny skeleton with accordions?
Time to be a grown up.
I cleared my throat. "May I ask what you're doing here?"
The grim reaper looked confused - as much as a skull could look confused. "You summoned me?"
"We did?"
"Yeeeeahh."
"Oh, well, my apologies. We were, uh, trying to resurrect this bunny, and, um, I don't think it worked correctly. I mean, I did follow the instructions to the letter." I held out the book. He took it and read through the spell.
"So you did it to the letter - even though you didn't want it to work?" He asked.
I gave him the patented older sister death glare - the one used for arrogant ignoramuses who are in danger of upsetting beloved little brothers.
He shut up. I quickly glanced at the Tyke but luckily he was too engrossed int eh flashing lights generated by the portal to pay much attention to what we were saying.
The grim reaper handed the book back to me. "Ok, I got it now. The ritual did work but what it doesn't tell you is that you have to go into the underworld to retrieve said...bunny."
"What?"
"Yeah, it's basically like that greek dude? You know, the singer who went to Hell to retrieve his wife and then cocked it up a the last minute? It's pretty much the same. You have to petition the rulers and then they might send it back with you - or they might not. Depends on the mood. It's pretty cute so you might stand a chance." He shrugged. "But I can't guarantee it. The only thing I can guarantee is that, if you do what that guy did and look over your shoulder, you'll really, really regret it."
"I'm not going to Hell." I said firmly.
He shrugged. "It's not Hell, it's the Underworld, but it's your call."
There was a tug on my dressing gown.
"No more Mr Hannibal Cannibal?" My little brother asked me, worry clouding his face. Also the first words he had managed to speak since yesterday. How I wish he'd picked any others.
"Now sweetie," I said as gently as I could, "You don't want your older sister to go to the Underworld now, do you? What if she gets stuck there?"
"No more Mr Hannibal Cannibal?"
"But sweetie..."
"No more Mr Hannibal Cannibal?" This was not good, his eyes were beginning to fill with tears and his lower lip was starting to tremble viciously.
Oh God.
"Fine, fine!" I said, standing up, "lets go."
"Are you sure?" the grim reaper started to ask, then stopped as his own cowl started to choke him - possibly because I'd grabbed him by the hood and was power walking into the portal before I had a chance to change my mind or my fear (slash common sense) had a chance to catch up with me.
"Tell mum I won't need breakfast!" I shouted back to my brother before the portal closed in on both of us, swallowing us whole.
I won't go into the awful, awful walk through the Underworld. Suffice to say, it was awful.
To give you a very brief overview, although it looked nothing like this, it gave off the same kind of atmosphere a heavy grey council building did - one of those that had been built in the seventies when concrete was all the range and filled with underpaid, overworked people who had initially joined the system to improve it and make a difference to the world and who had now been ground down into the bitterest dregs of their personality.
Think that but as an entire plane of existence. So yeah, it was awful.
My guide said this was more like the postal sorting office of souls after death - so most didn't stay here for eternity but were sent on to different planes. Thankfully.
The office of the rulers was pretty impressive. I mean, still quite stark and barren, but at least the light wasn't so grey and hopeless in here.
When I explained what I had come for, they both gave me blank, astonished gazes.
"A rabbit?" said one. "You came all the way here for a rabbit? I thought human's ate those."
"We do, Sir(?), however this one was a pet of my younger brother and he is inordinately fond of it. If possible, I'd like it back please."
"You really came all this way for a rabbit?" said another (at this point, I honestly couldn't blame them - I was still having trouble processing this fact and it had been my decision."
"Yes." I said patiently.
"But why?" Said the first one, clearly bewildered.
"As i stated, it is the beloved pet of my younger brother. And as my younger brother is precious to me, I want him to be happy."
"I've heard of spoiling your siblings rotten before, but surely this is a step too far?"
"I have also," I continued, "currently had less than three hours sleep. This is because our rabbit died yesterday." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and went to the gallery. "This is what my brother sounded like when we told him the rabbit was dead."
I hit play. Immediately an atrocious, skin crawling wailing filled the room. The rulers slammed their hands over their ears and shouted at me to turn it off. I did so.
"He kept that up for twelve hours - until he passed out." I said bluntly. "The only reason he was doing it today, is because he thought he could bring his bunny back. I do not want to go back and tell him it hasn't worked. If I do that, he might freak out so hard he dies from it and then he will be down here. With you. And he will be upset at this fact."
They gave me Mr Hannibal Cannibal back. All I had to do was walk to the entrance with out turning back.
And that greek guy must have been a moron because with all the weird squelching, growling, bone crunching noises going on behind me, why the hell would you want to turn around?
I returned safely and Mr Hannibal Cannibal was properly reinstated. My little brother was delighted. I mean, I'm not sure the rulers had previously had a lot of dealings with rabbits, because I'm certain that Mr Hannibal Cannibal is the first carnivorous rabbit I've seen but that's a small detail.
However, the voice recording I took must have freaked them out more than I thought - Mr Hannibal Cannibal escaped from his hutch one day and wandered into the nearby road. I was just in time to see him get hit by a car - and then the car spun away, front tire completely wrecked with Mr Hannibal Cannibal just sitting there, perfectly fine and calmly eating roadkill.
I had grabbed Mr Hannibal Cannibal, stuffed him down my top and then run over to check if everyone in the car was alright. Luckily they were.
I was still trying to figure out how to tell my parents that I suspected we had an immortal rabbit on our hands....
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