Spirit Ascendancy

by E. E. Holmes

  “What about Milo?”

  “No sign of him. No sign of any spirits at all.”

  “No. No I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it,” Hannah shouted, slapping Neil’s hand away from her shoulder. Another took its place, a slender dark one. Hannah turned to Lucida, sitting on her other side, her face the picture of sadness and remorse. I wanted to reach through the mental space and throttle her.

  “I thought you might need evidence, though I hesitate to show it to you,” Neil said in a delicate tone that made my skin crawl. “It is not my wish to cause you further distress.”

  Hannah did not answer right away. “What is it?”

  Lucida shook her magnificent head. “No, Neil. Come on, now, you can’t show her that.”

  “I do not wish to,” Neil said. “But if she will not accept the truth…” Was I the only one who could hear the note of amusement, however faint, in the velvety folds of his voice?

  “What is it?” Hannah asked again.

  “A photograph,” Neil said, “sent to me by one of my men who found them. He sent it as proof of what they found when they arrived.” He held the phone in his hand, looking down at the screen. I knew what the picture would show.

  Hannah leaned back but stared at the glow of the screen as though it were a weapon being pointed at her. “Lucida, have you seen it?”

  “Yeah, love, I have.”

  “And?”

  “And I don’t think you should look at it, pet. I really don’t. What good could it do?”

  Hannah continued to stare at the phone. Then she held out her hand for it.

  Neil kept his eyes on her face as he reached out and dropped it into her outstretched hand.

  She looked down. And because she looked down, we both saw it too, the image of my own lifeless body, smeared in blood. I fought back the bile.

  Hannah let out a sound I could hardly describe; a strange, primal thing that made all the hairs on my arms stand up. She let the phone clatter to the floor. No one made a movement to pick it up. No one made any movement at all.

  “There’s nothing left,” Hannah whispered at last. “They’ve taken absolutely everything I have. Everything.”

  Lucida reached out and grasped her arm. “Tonight we take it back, love. We take it all back.”

  Milo pulled away, and I staggered, the vision going black before being replaced by the surrounding faces of Finn, Savvy, and Annabelle, all tense and anxious.

  “Those bastards. Those bastards!” Milo was shouting.

  “What happened? Could you tell where she was?” Finn asked.

  “Yes. She’s in the Grand Council Room, and the torch is there, too, I think. She… they showed her a picture of my body from the Traveler camp. She thinks we were all killed by the Durupinen.”

  Annabelle covered her mouth with her hands. Savvy groaned.

  “Oh sweetness, what are they doing to you?” Milo mumbled, blinking in and out in agitation. “We’ve got to get in there. We’ve got to show her we’re all okay, before she does something stupid. She’s not going to be able to hold it together.”

  “Calm down, Milo,” I said.

  “Do not, do not tell me to calm down!” Milo practically shrieked. “That’s my girl in there, do you understand?”

  “I do!” I said, stepping forward and wishing, for the first time ever, that I could hug him. “You need to calm down to save your strength. Because there’s no way we’re going in there without you. She needs you, Milo, and you won’t be able to help her if you can’t even materialize. So, do it for her, okay? Calm down, blink out, and rest.”

  I watched the wild light fade from his eyes. Then he nodded once, with a strangled little half-sob, and flickered out of sight.

  “Okay,” I said, turning to the others. “Time to make a deal with the devil.”

  §

  If someone had told me a day would come that I would step into the príosún again voluntarily, I would have told them I would rather die first.

  Well, I would have been half right, anyway.

  I floated a few feet above my body, hesitant to put too much distance between the two very crucial parts of myself. I knew that Finn was standing by, ready to protect my physical form from whatever may happen, but the variables at play with something like the Elemental were too unpredictable and potentially devastating to take any chances.

  It was just a few months ago that Hannah and I had been trapped with the Elemental in this place as a cruel hazing joke gone horribly wrong. The Elemental was an ancient being created and fueled entirely by feeding on negative human emotion. It sucked these emotions from the nearest people and reduced them to helpless, cowering shells of their former selves. Though no one knew its origins, it was trapped and used by the Durupinen centuries ago as a form of torture for prisoners kept in the príosún. I knew all too well from personal experience how effective a torture device it could be. A few minutes with it left me barely knowing who I was, wanting only for the pain and terror to end. I’d have welcomed death gladly.

  Okay, poor choice Jess, poor choice to relive the details of one of the most terrifying events of your life right before facing it again.

  Somewhere to my left, in the darkness, I could hear Finn muttering the words of the summoning casting that Carrick had given us. Any moment now…

  A panicked sort of moan escaped me, despite my best efforts to suppress it.

  “Jess, you okay in there?” Savvy called.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright. Just freaking out, that’s all.”

  To calm myself, I talked through the theory in my head one more time, to remind myself why it was necessary that I do this.

  The Wraiths couldn’t be stopped by any casting the Durupinen knew, because they weren’t really ghosts anymore; they were empty of any sense of themselves; their essences were gone, replaced by the orders given to them by the Necromancers. Those orders, however, were steeped in the worst humanity had to offer: hatred, fear, and unabated greed. They were vessels for the Necromancers’ depravity. And I was willing to bet that the Elemental would find them absolutely delicious, unencumbered as they were without even a single cheerful thought. And so, if I could convince the Elemental to join forces with us…

  But before I could complete it, the thought was overridden in my brain with another, one that I did not put there, and which felt strange and foreign to me, an intrusion.

  What is this morsel?

  We recall it, do we not? We taste it on our tongue, and we know it. We have tasted it before.

  But the form, the form… what is it now?

  “I’m here to speak to the Elemental of Fairhaven Wood,” I said, hoping my voice betrayed something less than the crippling fear I was struggling against. “Will you show yourself and speak with me?”

  It seeks us. That is bold.

  Shall we speak to it? But what is it?

  More than spirit, less than human. We cannot fathom it. We must know.

  And suddenly, from nowhere, there it was. It looked very much the same as when I had last seen it, a human form constructed entirely of rippling, swirling negative energy. Last time the form was that of a woman. This time the figure it chose was that of an androgynous child, lithe and slim, with short but flowing locks. Its face shifted and flickered as the images of countless other countenances flashed across it, each twisted in agony or fear. For the most fleeting of moments, I even thought I saw my own terrified face staring back at me from under the undulating hair.

  What are you, my beauty, my love? Not spirit, no not a ghost.

  “No. I’m not a ghost. I’m a Durupinen and a Walker,” I said, and my voice seemed to ring out unnaturally loud in the clearing.

  What brings you here, Walker?

  “I need your help.”

  Help? What can any being ask of us? We do not help. We feed.

  Yes, feed. And you, my love, are mouthwatering.

  And the Elemental reached out, finding my fear, and my anger, and every other ne
gative emotion I had harbored inside of me. But unlike the last time, it could not take hold of them. It could not use them to weaken me. My state as a Walker prevented it. I could feel myself nearly expand with the triumph of it.

  The Elemental froze, one foot poised to walk forward, its head cocked to one side.

  What means this?

  How does it thwart us?

  What trickery is this, to summon us forward but deny us sustenance?

  To taste but not to feed? Ah, agony!

  “I did not bring you here to feed you,” I said. “At least, not with my own feelings. But a feast awaits you, if you will hear me out.”

  A feast? What does it mean?

  It will explain itself or it will leave this place!

  And the Elemental seemed to expand in its anger, the colors of its many images intensified, pulsating with waves of poisonous negativity. I could feel it like heat billowing off of a fire, though it did not seem able to infect me. Again, I was momentarily enthralled with my own immunity to its powers. It was satisfying to see it so impotent, but I didn’t want to push it. I didn’t want to provoke it further; I needed it to cooperate.

  “The Durupinen are under attack. The Necromancers have invaded the castle and are going to destroy everything if we don’t stop them,” I said.

  What care we for the struggles of humans?

  They win, they lose, it matters not. We feast upon them all and relish in their pain.

  The more they battle, the more they suffer, the more mouthwatering they are, my sweet.

  “I know you don’t care whether they win. But the struggle offers you a chance to glut yourself. Isn’t that what you want?” I said, endeavoring to keep the disgust out of my voice.

  The Elemental said nothing, but continued to survey me with its ever-changing face.

  “The Necromancers have taken over with the help of Wraiths. They are ghosts without essence, and they are full of all of the things you love to feast upon: hatred, greed, violence. They are all over the grounds, like sitting ducks, unable to defend themselves from you. Wouldn’t you like a taste?”

  The Elemental seemed to shrink, the tendrils of swirling color sinking limply to the ground.

  The witches have trapped us here.

  We cannot leave this place. We cannot roam to seek the bounty you promise.

  “I can release you,” I said, and even as I spoke the words, I panicked slightly at the recklessness of them. “If you agree to feed only upon the Wraiths, and not upon the other humans you find there, I will free you from this place for the night. When the battle is over, I will send you back here. But you will have free reign to feed upon every Wraith that you can find between now and sunrise.”

  No humans? No taste of human pain?

  “I’ll sweeten the pot. You will know the Necromancers by the skull masks and black robes they wear. Consider them fair game as well, but only them.”

  The Elemental launched into an argument with itself, the many voices wrapping and twisting, rising and falling.

  It cannot free us. What power could it have? We fed upon it once and it was helpless to fight us.

  But now! It defies us now. We lash and it does not crumble. It is a wicked thing, a powerful thing.

  But we have drained it before. It had no such power then.

  It has changed.

  That’s right, you soul-sucking bastard, I have changed.

  “This is your one chance at freedom,” I bluffed, “and it’s about to be taken off the table. Take it or leave it.”

  We cannot trust it. It is one of them. It is surely a trap, a trap.

  We are already trapped. Trapped and caged and locked away these long, long years. What have we to lose?

  To lose, to lose, so much to lose. We must return to this place.

  But so much to be gained, if it speaks the truth. A feast, it says, a feast. We shall return, but we shall be sated for the first time in many years.

  A feast. A feast.

  I knew it would agree before it said the words. The hunger in its many faces was as clear as the echoes of pain that lingered there, and it consumed everything else, blotted it out.

  We agree. We shall feast only upon the Wraiths and the Necromancers.

  “Very good. And know this: if you feed even a moment upon someone else, I will know. And I will destroy you.”

  The Elemental just watched me as I fought to make my own face reflect a power that I did not possess. I had no idea if I succeeded or not. Like so many parts of this plan, all I could do was hope.

  “The attack will begin shortly. I will release you soon. Remember our agreement,” I said.

  And the Elemental merely stood, like a confused child, as I flew to my body, reconnected, and stumbled from the Summoning circle.

  “That was brilliant,” Savvy whispered. “You were brilliant. Totally badass.”

  Finn nodded curtly. “Well done. I don’t think we could have wished for better.”

  “Thanks,” I said, knowing that even so brief a statement was lavish praise from him. “I just hope we can control it once it’s been unleashed. We’re playing with serious fire here.”

  “You were right, though,” Finn said. “It’s the only chance we have at getting past the Wraiths, and certainly the best way to remove the Necromancers’ best weapon. The Necromancers do not know about the Elemental, as far as I can tell. They won’t know what it is, so they won’t know how to fight it, and by the time they do, it will be too late.”

  “And if it starts attacking the Durupinen?” I asked.

  “It won’t,” Finn said.

  I glared at him.

  “But if it does, we’ll be ready. We know how to detach it; I’ve used the casting before, when it was attacking you, so it shouldn’t be a problem to keep it from doing too much damage to anyone.”

  I nodded, but the knot in my stomach, ever present since Hannah had disappeared, tightened just that much more. Letting the Elemental loose on the grounds was actually potentially one of the least frightening things we would do that day.

  “I hope you’re right,” I said. “When do you think we should—”

  A strange rumbling began beneath our feet. Suddenly, through the woods, came a collective shift in energy so enormous that we were all dizzy with the force of it. My head swam and my ears rang. Beside me, Savvy lost her footing and fell into me as she clamped her hands down over her ears. I struggled to right myself as all through the woods, a wind seemed to barrel through the trees, a wind that had nothing to do with weather and everything to do with an almost seismic shift in spiritual energy.

  “What in the world—” Annabelle cried, clutching at her head.

  A wailing, moaning sound filled the grounds, a thousand voices rose in a single cry, and it sang with longing and sadness and a desperate desire for all that lay out of reach. And as it rose, a thousand spirits moved, drifting on a current that would not release them, in the direction of Fairhaven Hall.

  A smaller moan broke through, and I opened my eyes to see Milo shivering with restrained emotion, bracing himself like a child in a windstorm.

  “It’s started,” he said. “We have to do it now. It’s started.”

  22

  The Feeding

  “MILO! ARE YOU OK? Don’t… stay with us!” I said, reaching my arms out helplessly toward him, like I would somehow be able to hold his insubstantial form in place. But Milo was already shaking his head.

  “It’s fine, I can resist it, but I think it’s because I’m Bound to you. It wants to suck me in, I can feel it, but it’s like I’m tied down in a storm.”

  We all watched for a few, horror-struck moments as the ghosts of Fairhaven Hall drifted over us, pulled helplessly toward the central courtyard, where they vanished like whirls of sentient mist.

  “This is it, then,” Finn cried, over the renewed howling. “We release the Elemental and follow it into the castle.”

  “And the Necromancers will, what? Just let us?” Savvy
asked. “I’ve had my share of pub fights, mate, but I won’t be much use against those bastards”

  “The Elemental will do all the fighting for us, believe me,” Finn said. “Annabelle and Savvy, stay together. Once the coast is clear, head to the dungeons and do what you can to release the prisoners down there. You’ll need the Book of Téigh Anonn to undo some castings, but once the Elemental has taken care of any Wraiths or guards, you should be able to work uninterrupted.”

  “Won’t we need keys? What good will castings do if we can’t open the bloody doors?” Savvy asked.

  I shook my head. “There aren’t any locks on the doors down there. They don’t really need them. The prisoners are helpless to leave. There are wooden barricades, but you should be able to move them off easily enough.”

  “I can attest to the power of those castings keeping them in place,” said Annabelle with a grim smile.

  “Find one of the teachers first,” I said, seeing the nervous look on Savvy’s face. “Give the Book and the casting materials to one of them, and let them sort it out.”

  Savvy’s face relaxed. “Right. Yeah, castings aren’t my cup of tea. Should have stayed awake in a few more classes, I reckon.”

  “Live and learn,” I said with a quick smile.

  “Anyway,” Finn broke in impatiently, “when you’ve released everyone down in the dungeons, split up and see what you can do to free the Caomhnóir and the students. Jess, you said the Caomhnóir are being held in the barracks, right?”

  I nodded. “That’s what Carrick said.”

  “Okay, so split up then,” Finn said. “Bertie and Savvy, go to the Caomhnóir quarters with some of the teachers. Bring Carrick with you as well, if you can, since he’ll know more than the others about the barracks themselves. Annabelle, you bring the others up to the bedrooms where the students are being held, and do what you can to release them, too.”

  Annabelle took a deep breath. “Okay. And if we actually manage to do all of that? Then what?”