Spirit Ascendancy (32 page)

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.”

“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?”

“Head for the central courtyard,” Finn said. “We’ll need all the help we can get, I expect.”

“And what are you going to do?” Savvy asked.

“Jess, Milo, and I will head straight for the courtyard. We need to show Hannah that Jess is alive, and we need to release the souls from that torch before someone destroys it.”

“And if she reverses the Gateway before we can stop her?” Savvy asked.

Every head turned to me. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

This was a dodge, and we all knew what the real answer was. If the Gateway was reversed, I would Walk. And if I Walked…

“It won’t,” Finn muttered fiercely. “It won’t come to that.”

I couldn’t say what I wanted to say to him, so I swallowed it, along with the bulk of my fear. There would be time for all of that later.  I hoped.

A spirit, wailing like an injured animal, flew directly over our heads, dropping us brutally back into the reality of the moment.

“Wait at the edge of the trees for me. We’ll follow the Elemental out, and split up when we get to the castle. See everyone back in the central courtyard.”

We all looked at each other. It was the flimsiest of plans, but what else could we do? We had no idea what was coming, and so no way to plan for it. We would just have to wing it and hope for a miracle.

Finn dashed off back toward the príosún while the rest of us sprinted for the grounds, bathed in the light of a full moon. From behind a large knobbly oak, we watched as the spirits flew toward the castle. As they drew closer, they were swept into a sort of cyclone, which whipped them around and around before sucking them out of sight below the ramparts. An eerie glow emanated from the place I knew the courtyard must be. The light was tinged with purple, and even as I looked at it, I felt a desperate, half-formed desire to follow it, to see where it might lead…

“Don’t look at it,” Annabelle said, and we all tore our eyes from it to look at her. “It’s open. It will draw you in. Do you feel it?”

“Yeah,” I said with a shiver. I reached into the mental space around me for Milo and sensed him there, reassuringly close, resisting the pull. “Stay close, Milo, okay?” I felt rather than heard his answer. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Look at the Wraiths, though,” Savvy said, pointing. “It’s like they’re immune to it.”

She was right. Here and there, they hung motionless in the air or else continued their slow, steady pacing of the grounds, blind and deaf to all but the instructions housed inside them.

“The Gateway is calling, but there’s no one left in them to answer,” I said. “They’re already empty.”

And then the forest seemed to laugh. Every leaf, every tree, broke into a mad cackle. The grass sang with it, the air vibrated with it; it was an evil sound, all silver and shivery, terrible delight. Footsteps came pounding through the underbrush behind us, and we turned just in time to see Finn throw himself to the ground beside us, panting and coughing.

“Here it comes,” he said, completely unnecessarily.

And come it did, in the form of a billowing winged creature with a yawning maw of a mouth and eyes like fire. Flapping tendrils of stolen emotion streamed out behind it like tails on a nightmare kite.

We completely forgot for a moment that we were supposed to be following it, but instead sat frozen in crippling fascination as the Elemental swooped like a bat over the lawns. As it passed over the closest Wraith, the tendrils shot out like whips, wrapping around it and drawing emotion from it like poison from so many wounds. The Wraith made no sound or movement of protest, but sank senseless to the ground like a fallen leaf. The Elemental seemed to swell with pleasure, and in the laughter I could hear its voices.

Ah, the freedom! To fly, to feed, to gorge!

Such a glorious feast!

The tendrils unfurled in every direction, entwining with spirit after spirit, sucking them dry of every hateful thought they’d been weaponized with. The Necromancers on the grounds had spotted it now; we could see them scattering like insects, pointing and shouting as they tried to understand what they were seeing. Then a tendril reached out and caught the first of them, wrapping him in the most parasitic of embraces. The Elemental’s voice rose in enthrallment.

Fear me! Fear me!

The Necromancer did indeed fear it, if his screams of terror were any indication. He sank to his knees and within moments was cowering in the fetal position, arms over his head, begging for mercy.

“This is it!” Finn shouted. “Now! Move! Stay close to me!”

We pelted out across the lawn, staying to the shadows of the trees until we had to break across the open space. We were all tensed for an attack, but none came. No being, living or dead, had a glance or thought to spare for us. The Elemental flew before us, smiting all within reach, and those that had yet to fall were fleeing in terror, leaping over walls and hedges in their desperation to escape.

A Wraith nearby spotted us and flew forward, screeching like an alarm bell, but was silenced by the Elemental before it had gone even a few yards. I ran for all I was worth, my breath stabbing at my lungs as I tried to keep close behind Finn.  On all sides, Necromancers fell like they were being struck by lightning. They were utterly powerless to resist it.  As we rounded the central fountain, one of them lay crumpled only a few feet away. When he saw us, he didn’t shout or try to attack. Instead, he reached a supplicating hand out to us, moaning as the Elemental’s snakelike appendage wrapped tighter and tighter around him. I knew, as I watched him suffer, what he was going through. Maybe it should have raised a sense of empathy in me. It didn’t.

The castle loomed up before us, and though I’d walked in and out of it a hundred times before, as we raced toward it, it felt very much like sacrificing ourselves into the mouth of a strange beast. We reached the shadows behind one of the massive front doors and turned back in horrified fascination. The Elemental hung over the grounds, tendrils waving and snaking beneath its enormous winged body like a some kind of many-legged sea monster swimming in the dark water of the sky.

The confused shouting was now issuing from the windows and ramparts of the castle as the Necromancers inside alerted each other to what was happening on the grounds. More of them were sprinting up from the direction of the Caomhnóir barracks, and still others from around the back side of the castle. The Elemental ensnared each one as they appeared with a serpentine flick of its many tongues. The number of new victims did not overwhelm it; in fact, it only seemed to strengthen it further as it glutted itself.

“We have to stop it, Finn,” I said. “You’ve got to send it back to the príosún.”

“I say we leave it here,” Savvy said. She was staring in awed fascination as yet another Necromancer fell screaming to his knees. “It’s taking out all the resistance. Why don’t we just open the doors and let it in the castle? This fight will be over before it starts.”

Finn hesitated, and I knew why. It was tempting. And honestly, nothing gave me quite so much satisfaction as the thought of Neil coming face to face with the Elemental.

But Finn pointed to a rune carved above the front door. “The Elemental can’t cross the threshold of the castle. And we can’t leave it out here unchecked. Who’s to say it won’t forget all about our bargain and start attacking innocent people once we release them?”

Savvy furrowed her brow like she was trying to come up with a plausible argument, but it was Annabelle that spoke. “It’s done what we needed it to do. It got us into the castle. This needs to end now.”

Even as she spoke six Necromancers ran out of the door just to our left. They seemed to be attempting some sort of casting. One of them carried a candle, another was scattering pieces of quartz onto the gravel walk behind them. They began chanting in Gaelic, scattering salt in a large circle around them, but all was in vain. The Elemental turned and saw them, and let loose a raucous peel of laughter that rang through the trees and reverberated through the ground beneath our feet. Its neck elongated so that its face, a constantly morphing kaleidoscope of images, floated toward them.

The nearest Necromancer dropped his candle in shock, rooted to the spot, paralyzed with horror. The Elemental’s face hovered just an inch from his, and each image that flashed across its planes was inquisitive, curious, even amused. Then it closed that last inch between them and kissed the Necromancer. He stiffened and began to shake, crying and pleading for the creature to stop in a muffled gasp of a voice. But the Elemental only lingered, sucking the mounting terror from the man’s lips like blood from a wound.

“Enough,” Finn muttered. “No. Enough.” And pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket, the one he had written the instructions from Carrick on. He bolted forward and raised his arms.

The Elemental pulled away from the Necromancer it was feeding on; he dropped like a stone to the ground and did not move again.

We have only just begun.

It wants to stop us, to banish us again.

But it cannot. We’ve only just begun. We are not sated.

We are never sated.

And even as it continued to feed on forms all over the grounds, tethered to them with bonds that sang with unadulterated terror, it flew toward us, mouth wide, flickering eyes wild and full of an animal greed.

I couldn’t move, and nor, it seemed, could anyone else. Our collective fear turned us to stone as we watched this nightmare being shot toward us. Finn could not complete the casting quickly enough; in seconds, we would all become just another handful of victims of the Elemental’s insatiable appetite.

A pearly form shot out in front of us, blocking the Elemental’s path. The speed at which it was moving blurred it at first, but as it stationed itself at attention I realized who it was.

“Carrick! No! Get away from it!” I cried upon recognizing him.

He did not answer. He did not turn to look at me. He just stood like a statue blocking the Elemental’s path to us.

Surely it could have gone around him, or through him, even, but it did not. It inhaled a slow, deep breath and sighed longingly for what it tasted there.

Ah, the delicious grief!

Such exquisite sadness!

It could not help itself. The Elemental stopped in its pursuit of us and latched instead onto Carrick, whose dark feelings were too intense for it to resist. All that I had learned of his love for my mother, of the forbidden nature of their relationship, every particle of it was so steeped in loss and pain. He must have been the most satisfying morsel the Elemental had ever come across.

“No, stop! Stop it!” I cried. “Finn, do something!”

But Finn had already started the casting again. The gluttonous sounds of the Elemental’s feeding drowned out his words, but then he raised a small silver knife into the air and swung it sharply down, driving it into the earth at his feet. The Elemental was thrown backward like it had been flung from a slingshot. As it flew through the air, its many feeding limbs released their victims and curled up against its body like the legs of a dead spider.

It’s scream filled the grounds, reverberating against the stone walls of the castle so that the glass in the many windows above us exploded in a shower of needling shards. We all threw ourselves to the ground and covered our heads as the pieces rained down upon us.

I raised my face just in time to see the trees of the forest part like jaws to swallow the flailing, shrieking form of the Elemental back into its shadowy depths. The screams died away, leaving just a lingering ringing in our ears and heaps of motionless bodies littering the grass.