by E. E. Holmes
“Do you think the attack is over?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Finn said, lifting his chin into the air as though he could scent danger. “It sounds like they’ve retreated.”
“I heard them just before you…” I changed tack awkwardly, “just before I reconnected. They were shouting to each other that I was dead. If that’s what they were hoping for, then they might have left the camp, right?”
Finn nodded, though he did not look at me. We both listened hard. It wasn’t silent, but the sounds of struggle were gone. Voices still rang out, but they were calling the names of loved ones, calling for help to put out flames or bind up wounds. A few were sobbing, keening into the night, no doubt, over someone’s dead body. Caomhnóir were shouting instructions to each other as well, as they resecured the borders of the camp. And yet a muffling heaviness had fallen over all of it, the heaviness of loss and tragedy that pervaded like a gas, creeping over everything.
Finn turned back to me. “If that’s not your blood…”
I didn’t let him finish. “Anca. She’s dead.”
He cursed under his breath. “What about Annabelle? Savvy?”
My insides turned to lead and dropped into my feet. “I don’t know. Milo and I were near the border of the camp when it happened, looking for a way out. I haven’t seen them.”
“We’ve got to find them and get out of here,” Finn said pulling an arm unceremoniously from behind my head and jumping up. I collapsed to the ground. “Where did you see them last?”
“Our wagon, but they could be anywhere now,” I said, fighting my way to my feet. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I was going to ask him to help me up, despite how weak and disoriented I felt.
“We haven’t got time to look. We’ve got to get you out of here before the Necromancers find out you’re alive,” Finn said.
“But that’s just it, Finn. They already think I’m dead. I don’t think we’re in a hurry anymore. That was their mission, and as far as they know, they’ve accomplished it. They’ve gone.”
He considered this for a moment. “There’s something to that.”
“Gee, you think?”
“Stay here then, but get under cover,” he said, and hoisted me to my feet. “Get into the tent and stay there.”
“Don’t talk to me like—”
“We don’t have time for this, Jess! You can get all offended later, but for now, just do it!” he shouted. He bent over the unconscious Necromancer and with a grunt, hoisted the man over his shoulder. Then, with the man still in a fireman’s carry, he hurried off in the direction of the center of the encampment.
I watched his retreating back, boiling over with the absolute strangest mixture of emotions I’d ever experienced in my life; relief at seeing him again; anger that he’d left in the first place; fear that something would happen to him before he returned again; and a whole host of other, less easily definable emotions that I didn’t have the desire or ability to cope with at the moment. I pulled back the flap of Ileana’s tent and stumbled into it.
A single lantern, laying on its side, lit the room with a flickering golden light. The place was in tatters. My first instinct was to scan the place for anyone who might be hurt, or worse, but it appeared to be deserted. The throne-like chair had been toppled, and the raven had flown its cage, which lay battered on its side, its tiny gilded door wide open. A large table stood in the center of the room, chairs pushed hurriedly away from it as though everyone who had been sitting at it had risen and left in great haste. A large number of scrolls and papers littered the tabletop. It looked like Ileana had been in the middle of a meeting when the attack had begun.
A familiar image caught my eye, and I walked around the far side of the table for a better look. Right in the center was a huge blueprint, its curling edges weighted down with large, smooth stones. There was no mistaking the building; it looked just as I had first seen it, rounding the bend into the valley to gape at its beauty: Fairhaven Hall.
“What the hell?”
I was sure I wasn’t supposed to be looking at any of it, but I was also sure that I didn’t give a damn what I was supposed to do. Not now. I pulled several more papers toward me. One was a map of the grounds, marked up with notes in Gaelic. Another was a roughly drawn map of what appeared to be the dungeons down in the basement. A third was covered in notes about the castings at various points around the castle.
I looked back down at the table, bewildered. Hannah stared back at me.
I tossed the papers aside and snatched up the photograph. It looked like a surveillance photo, the kind that is taken from a great distance and then blown up to show detail. Hannah was being led across the central courtyard of Fairhaven. The photographer had snapped the photo just as she turned her head in the direction of the camera. Her expression was calm, even happy, as she walked. Perhaps Lucida, out of focus though discernable behind her, had said something amusing the moment before. Her hand rested comfortably on Hannah’s shoulder, and I felt a desperate urge to reach through the picture and slap it away, to remind my sister that this woman was her enemy, and that she wasn’t to be trusted. But I fought past it as I realized what all of this meant.
Hannah was at Fairhaven, and Ileana knew it. An entire room full of people had known it, had talked it over and discussed it, as though it weren’t crucial for me to have this information, as though I weren’t desperate for any tiny scrap of a clue that might tell me she was still okay, and that she hadn’t yet torn our whole universe apart with her tiny bare hands.
But how could she be at Fairhaven? How could the Necromancers be at Fairhaven, when we knew that the castle was… but, of course. I laughed out loud into the smoky gloom. I was such an idiot. The only information we had about what was really going on at Fairhaven had come from Lucida, and she had been in Neil’s pocket all along, which meant that we really had no idea about the true state of things there. She may not have even returned there after our initial escape. Everyone we cared about there—Mackie, Celeste, Fiona—could be imprisoned, or worse. Or—and this new thought enraged me even further—perhaps she had gone back, and facilitated the Necromancers’ takeover of the castle from the inside. But what did it all mean? And why would the Necromancers want to bring Hannah to Fairhaven in the first place?
My first thought was to run out of the tent, find Ileana and rail and storm at her for keeping this information from me. My second thought was that the first thought was not worth the energy it would expend to carry it out. We had the information we needed; we knew where we were going next, even if we had no bloody idea what we would do when we got there. I made the conscious choice to focus on this fact instead. We were going to Fairhaven. Now what was waiting for us there?
I scanned the tabletop again, this time hoping it would contain further, useful information we could take with us. Another photograph showed the east side of the castle, where a single, narrow window was circled in red ink. Could this have been the window into the room where Hannah was being kept?
“Jess!”
I screamed and flung the nearest object— the raven’s cage—in the general direction of the voice.
“Calm down! It’s just me!” Finn shouted, lowering his arms from in front of his face,
“You sneak in here unannounced after what happened here tonight, and you tell me to calm down?” I nearly shrieked. “What’s going on out there? Where are the Necromancers?”
“Gone. Fled after they found your body.”
“What about Savvy? Annabelle?”
“They’re right here, I’ve got them. Let’s get out of here!” he said, pulling the tent flap back. Savvy and Annabelle were revealed standing beside him, both looking shaken and soot-blackened, but otherwise unharmed.
“Thank God!” I sighed. “Are you two okay?”
“We’ll live,” Savvy said, grimly, “which is more than some here can say, I reckon.”
I swallowed hard. “Is it bad?”
“Yea
h, it’s bad. They’re gathering near the enclosure. I saw some people getting carried past. They were burned and screaming, and…” Savvy’s voice failed and she shook her head.
At that moment a violent drumming began, followed by wailing and an instrument that sounded like a primitive violin.
“What the hell is that?” Savvy cried, raising her fists like she was prepared to right hook the sound itself.
“They’re mourning,” Annabelle said softly. “Birth and death, every life event is celebrated or mourned with music. This is a tribute to the dead.”
We all stood transfixed, listening. It was the horror turned to music. The combination of sounds was so wrenching I could hardly endure it. My skin felt alive, like Anca’s blood was singing with the tragedy of it.
“Do we know who else is…?”
“No, and we don’t have time to find out,” Finn said, perhaps a bit more harshly than the occasion warranted. He knew it, and dropped his voice. “We can’t risk being caught here. The Necromancers could come back, and we don’t want to be here if they do.”
“You’re right,” I said, and he stared at me like I’d said something bizarre. I gathered up all of the papers I could and shoved them into Savvy’s arms. “Here. Everyone grab an armload.”
“Right, yeah, sure. And… what are these?” she asked.
“They’re every piece of information the Travelers have that will make finding Hannah easier.”
“I know where Hannah is,” Finn said, waving a dismissive arm at the scrolls. “She’s at Fairhaven.”
“I know she’s at Fairhaven!” I cried, pointing to the blueprint still spread across the center of the table. “How do you know where she is?”
“I’ll explain everything when we’re safely out of here,” Finn said. “So let’s make that happen, shall we?”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, handing an armful of scrolls first to him and then to Annabelle. “Well, let’s get out of here, then. Unless…” I felt my heartbeat speed up. “Has anyone seen Flavia?”
“Who’s Flavia?” Finn asked, but I ignored him as I watched Annabelle and Savvy shake their heads.
“Okay,” I said, biting back a sob. “She’s fine. I’m sure she’s fine. Let’s go.”
“Can we really do that?” Savvy asked. “Leave? I mean, I know we need to be safe and find Hannah, and all that, but it is our fault that the camp’s been attacked. Shouldn’t we at least help clean up the damage or something? Put out some fires?” She gestured behind her, where smoke and flames were still engulfing the camp.
Finn was shaking his head. “I feel bad too, but we need to go. We’re endangering them further by staying here, I promise you.”
“And we can’t put out those fires,” I said. “Have you listened to them?”
“Listened to the fire?” Savvy asked, her tone dubious. “Nope, can’t say that I have, what with all the ear-piercing shrieks and such. And why the feck would I listen to the fire when I’m doing my damnedest not to be killed by it?”
“Because it’s not normal fire; it’s alive. Remember the Blind Summoner I told you about? The essence that was trapped in a candle flame?” I asked.
Annabelle got there first, her eyes growing wide with the horror of the realization. “I wondered why I never sensed them coming,” she said, turning to stare over her shoulder at the nearest blaze. “So many ghosts used in the attack, and not a single one of us seemed to be able to feel their approach. It didn’t make any sense.”
“That’s because they aren’t human spirits. Not anymore,” I said bitterly.
Savvy caught up. “Blimey! You don’t mean… are they still in there?”
“Yes. Listen,” I said.
We all froze again, and this time, added to the melancholy dirge of the Traveler music was another layer of sound, and in the roar and crackle of the fire around us the voices of a hundred spirits could be heard, calling incoherently, their words lost in a twisted, agonized chorus.
“We have to tell someone,” Savvy whispered, her eyes sparkling with budding tears.
“They know,” I said. “At least Flavia does, and I’m sure she’ll tell the others. But I honestly don’t know if there’s anything they can do. This is a Necromancer experiment; the Durupinen have never encountered it before.”
“Well, just tell them to keep the bloody fires going!” Savvy said, the tears spilling onto her cheeks, which were reddening with anger. “Just keep piling on the firewood until someone figures it out!”
“Savvy, they can’t…” Annabelle began.
“They bloody well better!” Savvy shouted. “They’re Durupinen, for fuck’s sake! It’s their job to help these ghosts, and they can’t just let them go out with the fire! What the hell is going to happen to those spirits, with no idea who they were or why they’re still here?
I started forward and caught her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly until she looked at me. “Sav, I don’t know,” I told her. “I have no idea what’s going to happen to them. No one does. But I can tell you what’s going to happen to us if we don’t get out if here. If the Necromancers come back, and they might, we are all dead.”
“And they’re worse than dead!” Savvy said, sobbing in earnest now.
“And there’s not a thing we can do about it here. But if we get to Fairhaven, and if we end this thing, we can make sure this doesn’t happen to any other ghost ever again. You’re right, we are Durupinen. As much as we hate it sometimes, and as much as we wish it were someone else’s responsibility, it’s ours. So let’s get out of here and do the one thing that can finally protect all these ghosts from the Necromancers for good. Let’s end this.”
She stared at me a moment, as though my words were travelling a great distance to reach her, and then as they sunk through her hysteria, she relaxed her body beneath my hands and nodded slowly.
“Good,” Finn said. “Very good. Okay, let’s get out of here. Everyone follow me.”
We all gathered as many of the scrolls, papers and photos as we could safely carry and took off after Finn around the back of Ileana’s tent and along the tree-lined border of the clearing.
“Where are we even going?” I asked, struggling to keep pace.
“To the road that runs north of the clearing. It’s the same one they brought us in on, as far as I can tell, and it’s also how I got back here.”
“Yeah, and that’s all really interesting,” I said, now hunched over behind a thicket of holly bushes. “But how are we going to get out of here with no car?”
Finn stopped short and we all crashed into him. “Shh! We’re going to have to pass right by the enclosure. Not a sound, or they might try to stop us leaving.”
We skirted through the trees, making as little noise as possible, though I couldn’t see how anyone would hear us over the crackling of fires and the mournful crescendo of the music, as it built to a firelit symphony of sorrow. Tears blurred my vision, and I blinked them away so that I could see where I was stepping. I fought the impulse to move into the clearing, to ask who had been killed, how many beside Anca had given their lives to protect us, to know their names and see their lifeless faces, and lift my own voice amongst the chorus of grief that pounded my eardrums like angry fists upon a chest.
“Where are you going, Northern Girl?”
The voice was so close to my ear it might have been inside my head. I leapt in alarm and turned to see Irina, grinning at me through the trees.
“Irina! What are you doing?” I hissed.
“I asked you first,” she said, grinning wider.
“I’m leaving. We need to get out of here. I don’t want the Necromancers coming back here again because of me.” It was true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
“They have caused great damage here. The Council is in shambles. The encampment is nearly destroyed.”
“I know. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“Come again?” I asked.
/> “The Necromancers destroyed the prison. They scattered my jailers and broke the castings that held me. I’m free,” she said, stretching her arms wide and lifting her face to the sky, a sky she could now traverse as far and wide as she chose.
“What about your body? Your life here with your people?” I asked.
She dropped her chin to stare at me again. “I have no life here. Only the torture of enslavement.”
“They only want to protect you,” I said. “You should go back, Irina.”
“They don’t care about protecting me,” Irina said. “They only care about protecting themselves. You ought to know that now, before you sacrifice everything for them. They care naught for your suffering, as long as it serves to preserve their precious order. Remember that, before you honor them with your sacrifice.”
I had no words to argue with her; I knew there to be more than a little truth in what she’d said.
“Good luck,” she said, and with the joy of a long caged bird, she took to the star-strewn darkness, which swallowed her up.
“Who was that?” Finn asked.
“No one we’ll ever see again,” I said.
“Do you think she’ll tell the others she’s seen you?”
“No. She’s been planning her escape for a long, long time. She’ll never show her face here again, let alone speak to any of the Durupinen. Come on, let’s keep moving.”
We plunged into the woods beyond the edges of the camp and emerged onto a dirt road, lit only in the palest glow of the clear night sky and a round-cheeked full moon.
“Now where do we—” Savvy began, but Finn interrupted her by inserting two fingers into his mouth and whistling.
Two headlights flared to life at once, followed by the roar of an engine. A large black SUV rumbled up from out of a nearby ditch and ground to a stop beside us where we stood, too shocked at its sudden appearance to do anything but gape.
The driver’s side window retracted and a round, freckled face appeared.
“You got everyone?” Bertie asked Finn, wiping nervous beads of sweat from his upper lip.
“Yeah, I do. Let’s get out of here,” Finn said. He opened the back door and motioned with one impatient jerk of his head that we should all get in. “I’ll explain when we’re on the road,” he said in answer to my bemused look.