After what felt like an hour, a woman came in to fit the bracelet onto her and take her home. In the back of the patrol car, Karena stared out the window and noticed the activity on the streets. Despite the late hour, there were a lot of people outside. People had either sensed the large energy disturbance or been told what had happened. Extra patrols were on duty.
She looked at the familiar buildings pass by with a certain hollowness. Little mattered anymore.
Chapter 15
Evelyn strode through the sunset-orange hallways of the hospital. Ahead of her, her dad stepped quickly. The black feathers of his wings gleamed under the soft lighting.
It was midnight, but she wasn’t sleepy, not after what she had learned. One of the largest occurrences of necromancy in recent times had occurred within Archelm City, and it had claimed a victim. The victim had been none other than Asher. Her heart ached and her lungs struggled to breathe from the thought. Unsurprising to her, Karena had been there too. It gave her some satisfaction that she had been right all along about Karena, but it was overshadowed by her alarm and worry for Asher and whatever condition he was in now.
They passed by hospital wards where patients slept in their beds. Nurses drifted in and out of the rooms. Towards the rear of the building, they went through some doors and entered into the purple-painted area where the long term patients were kept. Next to a doorway of a hospital room, a gathering of police personnel and cryptid hunting authorities stood in a loose group. They stopped talking to greet them.
“Jacques, thanks for coming,” Chief Rayson said, and shook her dad’s hand. He was in charge of the entire police department. “Evelyn, it’s late, isn’t it?” he said to her, and shook her hand too.
Evelyn recognized some of the people there.
Her dad clasped his hands together and leaned slightly forward. “Is Asher okay?” her dad asked.
Chief Rayson’s grandfatherly face seemed to age even more from the question. He said, “We’re not sure. From what Tristan has disclosed under a truth potion, he has less than a day to live.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she glued it there in an attempt to resist the urge to start rattling off questions about Asher and what had happened. By all means, she was lucky to even be there and be privy to such information.
“And Tristan?” her dad asked.
“He’s in critical condition. He’s the one who performed the spell. From what we can tell, he’s a novice necromancer, which doesn’t make sense because the spell that he used is very complex and only an experienced necromancer would attempt such a spell. His name is Tristan Atoll. Karena Oceania was at the scene too, but not in a way we would’ve suspected. She and Asher were lured to that spot through notes they had received, which related to talking about their relationship. She had nothing to do with the spell, and Tristan had been planning to perform more necromancy, this time to her.”
This came as an additional shock to Evelyn. Karena had been innocent, and Tristan had selected her as his next target. But why? Tristan was supposed to be her friend. She looked at the other people who were silently listening in as her dad and Chief Rayson talked. They looked at the ground or away, at a loss. Hope was absent from their faces. It didn’t bode well.
Her dad said, “What spell was it?”
“We don’t know, and that’s why you’re here. We need new insight into this matter. You’ve traveled far and wide. Perhaps you have seen or heard something that is like this, or signs of it. We’ve interviewed Tristan and Karena, but we still don’t know what to do. We’ve had mediums working on retrieving Asher’s soul for hours now, but they are unable to, despite their best efforts. His soul seems to be locked in the spiritual realm and isn’t able to return to his body.”
“Why would Tristan do something like this? He was Karena’s friend.”
“He had an obsession with Karena. He was planning to do something similar to Hadrian, Karena’s best friend, so that there wouldn’t be any obstacles in forcing Karena to be with him.”
“Let me see Tristan,” her dad said. His feathers were sticking up like barbs, meaning that he was distressed by all of this. She felt the same, if not worse.
Chief Rayson took them past Captain Valmar and Captain Dreadmore. They entered the room. Inside, Tristan lay strapped to the bed. His legs were in casts. His veins showed purple under his skin. His right arm was outstretched, and his hand rested on a small table where a doctor was examining it. Evelyn’s stomach lurched. His hand was freakishly flat and gooey. The doctor drew a line at his wrist, which was where they would most likely have to amputate.
Chief Rayson said, “We found him with his legs snapped behind him, like a scorpion’s tail. They’re broken so badly, and in so many spots, that he might not ever walk again. Apparently, the book he had snapped close on his right hand. It’s useless now. The doctors will have to amputate.”
“What’s the condition of Asher and Karena?” her dad asked.
“Karena is fine. Asher is unconscious, and will be until we find a way to retrieve his soul from the spiritual realm.”
“What kind of book was it?”
“Tristan knows it only as the Book of the Dead, a book his grandfather found on his travels to the desert lands in the southeast. Karena said that the book was emitting gold dust the entire time, and it snapped shut on Tristan’s hand, and then scuttled off like a crab.”
Her dad’s wings ruffled. He crossed his arms, and tapped his left foot three times, all signs that he had gathered the necessary information to give his opinion. Her dad said, “Tristan wasn’t strong enough to wield the book, and the book turned on Tristan. Though it was most likely black in appearance, such books are called White Sunne books. They are extremely rare and powerful. They can be used by anyone and for any purpose, so they aren’t necessarily evil. Only the most powerful of magical people can use one without the book turning on its user. I’m surprised that Tristan got as far as he did with the spell.”
“Why would they even use such a book?”
“The ancient Pharaohs would use it to combat evil, and banish evil people into the dark spiritual realm, or to fix corruption in a person’s life or life plan. When the threat of necromancers passed, they probably buried the book in one of their tombs.”
“How did his grandfather find such a thing if it was buried in a tomb?”
“There are mentions of these kinds of books on various walls and obelisks in ancient sites, so he could’ve deciphered the hieroglyphs and found clues about its exact location. The book was crafted by the gods to combat evil as a way to give people a means to fight what leaked through from the spiritual realm. Not all is good in the spiritual realm. There are layers to it. It’s the in-between state between here and the afterlife, a passing ground.” Her dad paused and studied Tristan for a moment. “On second thought, I don’t think that Tristan’s grandfather could’ve found such a book on his own. You need to look into his history and see what connections he had, because they would be, without a doubt, nefarious in nature too.”
“We’re monitoring Tristan’s house at the moment, and will start our investigations when the sun rises. It’s too risky to start at night.”
“Understood. And that’s wise to do.”
“What about the spell that was used?” Chief Rayson asked.
“From what you told me about being unable to retrieve Asher’s soul from the spiritual realm, I think I know what he used. Tristan probably performed a soul-lock spell. It’s the only one that comes to mind. I don’t know how it works, except that the spell caster transports themselves and their victims into the spiritual realm somehow. The spell caster then summons a wraith, or some other spirit-eating entity, to rip the soul out of the targeted person and drag it away. Because the soul was forcefully removed from the body, and the body returned to the real world without it, the soul is locked in the spiritual realm. However, the soul is still attached to its body by a small, ethereal cord.
&
nbsp; ‘The wraith, or whatever it is, will work around the clock to degrade this cord and sever the soul’s tie to its body. Once its severed, the body dies, and the soul is left vulnerable, and will be hunted down by the wraith to be consumed by it. Did Tristan say how long Asher has left?”
“He said that we have until nine-thirty tomorrow night, which is exactly twenty-four hours after the spell was cast,” Chief Rayson said.
“I see.”
“Can’t we summon Asher’s soul back?”
“No. It’s not that simple. Mediums and psychics can peer into the spiritual realm and mentally go into it or act as a communication channel, but they can’t pull anyone or anything out. What have they said about Asher’s condition?”
“They say that his consciousness is flickering back and forth from here and the spiritual realm. He is confused about what’s going on. We are only able to communicate with him in short bursts.”
Chief Rayson led them out of Tristan’s hospital room. Evelyn followed them. She wished that she could’ve contributed to the discussion, but her dad’s wisdom was far greater than hers. She realized this more than ever before, especially after what she had done in exposing Asher’s relationship with Karena. Had her actions caused this to happen? But it seemed like Tristan had been dead set on securing Karena as his, no matter what.
They walked up three flights of stairs and to the other side of the hospital. Two guards kept watch over a hall and a doorway. Because Chief Rayson was with them, they slipped through the doorway without being stopped. Asher’s father, Canicus, and most of his family were in the hospital room. Their eyes shifted from her dad to her, seeming to debate whether they should be in there. They were angry, grief-stricken, and on edge. Their emotional states were the culprits for the unbearable heat in the hospital room.
Asher lay motionless on the white hospital bed. The last time Asher had been awake, he had been mad at her, and rightfully so. She hoped that it wouldn’t be the last memory she would have of him alive. Mediums surrounded him and held each other’s hands as they stayed in a deep trance. They were trying to pull Asher out of the spiritual realm. If they hadn’t done so already, it was unlikely that they would be able to sometime soon.
“We don’t know how long he will last. Tristan said a day, but it could be more or less,” Chief Rayson said, seeming to repeat himself.
Her dad shook his head. “Rayson, listen, we don’t have any hope here,” he said.
“How can you say that?”
“Unless we find that book, a spiritwalker, or can travel to one of the sacred ruins in time, we are out of luck. I have implored and begged the Council, and other city members to reestablish the old alliances, especially to the southern islands. They have spiritwalkers there. They would be able to bring a soul out from the spiritual realm because they have a natural ability to walk into the spiritual realm. But we lost contact with those kingdoms long ago, and I highly doubt that there are any spiritwalkers living in the Sundarin Nation. People don’t seem to realize that there is strength in numbers and diversity.”
“And the sacred ruins?”
“Sacred ruins are portals into the spirit realm. They are connection points, and were used to train spiritwalkers. It’s ill-advised to go into one, unless you are a spiritwalker or are accompanied by one. However, it’s still possible to call Asher from there, reach in, have him grab someone’s hand, and be pulled out of the spiritual realm.”
“How would he even know where to go?” Chief Rayson said. He scratched his head, and then smoothed his shoulder-length, white hair. There wasn’t an easy solution to the problem at hand.
“Because of that ethereal cord, which connects wherever he is with his body, he can hear everything we are saying within his natural hearing radius. Mind you, it will sound like a muffled whisper, but if he focuses on listening, like to a voice he recognizes and identifies with as someone he loves, it will become louder for him to hear better. If you manage to get him to focus on someone’s voice, you could tell him that he needs to find one of the sacred ruins.”
“What’s the closest one?”
Her dad sighed, and his wings sagged. He said, “It’s submerged in two hundred feet of serpent-infested waters right now in an underground cave. The cave is thirty miles north of here.”
“And the next closest?”
“It’s called the Cattail ruins. It sits underneath the keep of the Cattail Fortress. It’s located deep in the swamplands of the Markhan Territory.”
Chief Rayson’s eyes bulged. He said, “That’s a dangerous area. Even if a party undertakes such a journey, they might not make it out alive. Whole villages are being wiped out by cryptids now. It’s gotten bad over there.”
“That’s the only accessible one that is closest to us.”
“It would be a seven to ten-day trip to those ruins. We don’t have the time. How will Asher even locate a portal if he’s in the spiritual realm?”
“If he concentrates on the name of the sacred ruins, it will shine like a lighthouse on a stormy night in the spiritual realm. He would then need to head towards it. Even though he won’t be able to go through the portal on his own, he just has to wait in that location until he can be pulled out and brought back into the real world.”
Chief Rayson shook his head. “This is hopeless. He’s going to die. Time isn’t on our side. We have to find that book. It’s our only hope,” he said.
“What if the wraith severs the link?” Evelyn asked. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
Her dad said, “He will be consumed and his soul will be trapped within that wraith until the wraith dies, which could be thousands of years from now.”
“Canicus, see if you can reach him again,” one of the mediums said.
Canicus approached Asher’s bedside and talked to his son. He asked him how he was, and explained that no one would sleep until they brought him back.
The medium said, “He was here listening, and then he left.”
“Why?” Canicus asked.
The medium shrugged, and called Asher’s brother forward, but Asher didn’t want to listen to him either. Evelyn knew why. When his relationship with Karena had been found out, he had suffered from the backlash of his family. Asher wanted little to do with them now. It was likely that he would only listen to Karena.
“He should try Jinx. He might listen to her,” Evelyn said. Canicus frowned, and fumed, as did the rest of them. Jinx wasn’t blood related. Evelyn could tell that they felt slighted by the suggestion that Asher might listen to her, rather than all of them there.
The medium closed her eyes, joined the others in their trance, and then pulled out of it. She said, “He keeps saying the name Karena. Where’s Karena? He keeps saying that over and over again.”
Everyone began talking and speculating about what could be done, even though nothing could be done. They seemed to think that there were other ways to rescue Asher than the ones that her dad had given them, but Evelyn knew that there weren’t. Evelyn tuned them out as she stared at Asher. Death would’ve been kinder to Asher.
A perilous plan hatched in her mind. It was uncertain if she would make it alive, or in time, to the Cattail ruins located in the heart of the Markhan Territory. Just like the Wildlands to the north, the swamplands were a hostile land. Completing such a journey in less than a day was physically impossible, but she knew of a master gearcrafter who had a knack for making impossible things possible. He was a friend of hers, her dad, and her late mom. He might be able to help. It was a longshot, but there was nothing else to try. Either they traveled to one of the sacred ruins to pull Asher out, or they reversed the spell by finding that spell book or one like it. She didn’t have faith that they would find a way to reverse the spell.
Evelyn looked at everyone in the room. They would probably still be discussing the situation for another hour, and by then, she would be out of Archelm City. She placed a hand on her dad’s wing. Her dad nodded, assuming that she was going to leave and
fly back home. If he had suspected that she was going to try something crazy, he would’ve stopped her.
She looked at Asher one more time and left. She was determined to save her friend. She walked past the guards and down the hallway. Her footsteps echoed in the quiet space. Her mind whirled. She knew her plan was foolish at best. Not only could she get herself killed, but others as well.
“Are you here to make things worse?” a voice rang out.
Evelyn turned to see Jinx standing in an adjacent hallway. As always, Blade was with her. It seemed like where one was, the other was nearby. Obviously, they weren’t able to get past the guards in order to see Asher, and were probably waiting until they could sneak in.
Evelyn’s feathers fluffed, giving her mood away. “I’m here to make things better,” she said, irritably.
Jinx rolled her eyes. She said, “That’s a surprise.”
Blade yawned. “We’ve been trying to see Asher, but to no avail. Perhaps, you can help?” he said.
“Come on,” Evelyn said. She hoped that she had enough influence to get them in.
“Wait, really?” Blade asked, but she didn’t bother answering.
She retraced her steps back to the hospital room with them following her. The two guards next to the doorway stepped in front of them to prevent them from entering, but Evelyn grabbed Jinx’s hand and pushed past them. They protested. The noise caused everyone in the room to look over.
“What’s this?” Canicus asked. He glared at Jinx, and was about to say something harsh to Evelyn, but due to her dad’s stare, he reconsidered.
Evelyn dragged Jinx over to the foot of Asher’s bed.
“Tell him to head towards the Cattail ruins,” Evelyn said.
Canicus stiffened. With a snarl, he snapped, “That’s nonsense. No one will be able to make it there in time, and he certainly won’t be able to in the realm he’s stuck in, not on foot.”
Gaze of Fire: Sequel to Veins of Ice Page 11
