by E. E. Holmes
We sat outside the hospital ward for at least an hour, alternating between long stretches of anxious silence and bouts of increasingly wild speculation. Periodically, commotion would break out on the other side of the doors, and we would all jump up to catch a glimpse of nurses or Caomhnóir rushing in and out of the bed space. At one point, Hannah spotted smoke wafting out from behind the screen, but it turned out to be a bunch of sage that one of the nurses was using for a Casting. Finally, Celeste, Siobhán, and Fiona came scurrying down the hallway, along with three other Durupinen I had never seen before. They did not stop to chat, however, sparing not even a glance for us as they pushed their way through the ward doors.
Another hour passed without a glimpse of Mrs. Mistlemoore. Finn was just suggesting that perhaps we should all go get something to eat and then come back, when Mrs. Mistlemoore finally emerged. She looked exhausted. She held a damp cloth in her hand, which she was using to wipe chalk dust and sage soot from her arms and face. We all stood up automatically at the sight of her, but she waved us back onto the bench.
“How is she?” Hannah and I asked in unison.
“Resting. Comfortably, I hope,” Mrs. Mistlemoore said, with an edge to her voice that suggested she wasn’t entirely confident in the “comfortable” part. “I’m sorry you’ve been waiting so long, but I couldn’t leave her in that state.”
“We understand,” I said at once. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”
“Something is forcefully Habitating in her,” Mrs. Mistlemoore replied, her expression grim.
“You mean she’s possessed?” Milo asked, his mouth gaping in horror. “Like, Exorcist-style?”
“Durupinen do not employ the term ‘possession.’ That is a religious construct. But for all intents and purposes, yes, she is possessed,” Mrs. Mistlemoore said wearily.
“But how could that have happened?” Finn asked. “The Wards on the castle ought to have prevented anything hostile from entering, shouldn’t they?”
“Not if it was already inside her when she returned,” Mrs. Mistlemoore said. “This is most likely something that attached itself to her while she was outside of the castle. It’s the only way to explain how it slipped in past the Wards.”
“How could something like that happen?” Hannah asked, her voice fluttery with panic. “Wouldn’t she know if a spirit had Habitated?”
“That’s not the kind of thing that escapes your notice,” I added, an involuntary shiver running its icy finger up my spine. I had once barely survived a forced Habitation during my first paranormal investigation with Pierce, before I even knew I was a Durupinen. A Necromancer spirit named William had entered my body and tried to force his way through the Gateway, which was closed at the time. It was the most excruciating pain of my life; if Annabelle had not been able to expel him, the trauma of it could have killed me. And even since then, when I’d allowed Milo to Habitate with my consent, there was still no ignoring the utterly bizarre sensation of sharing your physical and mental space with another soul.
“I agree, it would certainly be very difficult for a spirit to Habitate without the knowledge of the Host. Only non-sensitives, with no understanding of the spirit world, could possibly be an unwitting victim of a Habitation by a spirit. But the fact is… we are not entirely sure if it is a spirit,” Mrs. Mistlemoore said. “We cannot establish contact with it, and we can’t draw it out, which is worrisome. We ought to be able to expel it fairly easily, but the Castings are not working.”
“That’s why we’re waiting here,” Finn said. “Hannah sensed something when she was near Catriona, and she wants to tell you about it.”
Finn looked pointedly at Hannah, who swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “Um, yes, that’s right.” With many nervous pauses, Hannah told Mrs. Mistlemoore about our experience with the spirit cage that the Necromancers had used to imprison Annabelle. She explained how the spirits had been somehow torn into pieces and then reassembled into a mass, and how she had felt a similar, fragmented spirit energy when Catriona was carried past her.
Mrs. Mistlemoore looked pale and nauseous at the very thought. “On that first occasion when you encountered these partial spirits, you couldn’t sense them the way you could normal spirits? None of you?”
Hannah shook her head. “Not at first. It was very difficult to detect them, because they weren’t whole souls. I couldn’t Call them either. It was just this… muddled mass of confused energy. They camouflaged themselves.”
“I could expel them, though,” Finn said. “It took a massive effort, but I was able to shift them away from Annabelle so that we could rescue her. Whatever is Habitating in Catriona cannot be expelled.”
No one spoke for a moment, trying to make sense of Finn’s words. I’d forgotten that Finn had indeed been able to use his regular expulsion Casting to blast the spirits away. If he hadn’t, we would never have even seen that Annabelle was lying right there on the bed in front of us.
“Well, we could still be dealing with the same thing,” Milo said thoughtfully. “Those messed up spirits weren’t inside Annabelle’s body. They were just surrounding her, sort of hovering around her like a cage, weren’t they? It might have been easier to expel them because they weren’t actually attached to her?”
Mrs. Mistlemoore’s thick gray eyebrows drew together as she mulled this over. “That is possible, of course. So very many things are possible when dealing with the spirit world. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, something new comes along to prove me wrong.”
The door behind Mrs. Mistlemoore swung open and Celeste emerged, looking troubled.
“I’ve got to give an update to Finvarra,” she said to Mrs. Mistlemoore, before noticing—for the first time, it seemed—that we were all standing there. “Jessica, what are you still doing here? You’ve given your statements about what happened, haven’t you? You needn’t feel obligated to stay. We can send someone to find you if we have any more questions.”
“They’ve got more information for us, and it might be important,” Mrs. Mistlemoore said, and she briefly recounted what we had just discussed.
§
Celeste turned to Hannah with wide eyes. “You are sure of this, Hannah?”
Hannah shook her head. “I’m not sure of anything. I just know I felt something very similar to the torn up spirits the Necromancers used.”
“Do you know where Catriona was before returning to Fairhaven for the Airechtas?” Finn asked. “Is there a chance she might have come across a Necromancer Casting in her most recent work for the Trackers?”
“The other Trackers are retracing her steps as we speak, reviewing her case notes and work logs. Her Tracking partner, Katrina, has been summoned back from the field to help as well. The last place we know for sure that Catriona traveled on official Durupinen business was the Traveler Clan encampment in the north country.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Ileana’s clan?” I asked sharply. “The encampment I stayed in three years ago?”
Celeste nodded. “The very same. She has been following up on your Tracker case from October, I believe. The Walker you captured has been brought back there pending her trial.”
“We didn’t capture her,” I said. Realizing my voice sounded sharp, I tried to calm my tone as I went on. “We just Unmasked her. Catriona was the one who captured her.”
“Well, as you say,” Celeste said, clearly with little interest in this distinction. “She’s been back and forth to the encampment several times over the past few weeks. That’s where we’re starting our investigation. The Trackers will try to discover if something could have happened there that might explain this Habitation.”
“The Necromancers were there,” Finn said. “Three years ago they attacked the encampment. They used those same fragmented spirits as part of their assault on the Travelers. Is it possible some of their Castings linger there, or perhaps that some of those spirits were left behind?”
“I couldn’t say, but it is certainly possible,�
� Celeste said, chewing anxiously on a fingernail. Please, excuse me. I must relay this information to the Trackers at once. They need to be aware of this possibility, as much to protect themselves as to inform their investigation. Hannah, thank you for providing us with this insight. It may just be the key to helping Catriona.”
Hannah gave the smallest of smiles as she nodded. “Of course, Celeste. I hope it helps, truly.”
“Is there anything else we can do?” I asked.
“Not for the moment, no,” Celeste said with a sigh. “Just be sure to be present for the first session of the Airechtas this afternoon. I can’t believe we still have to hold these meetings today, on top of everything else! Excuse me, please.”
She hurried off, pulling a cell phone out of her pocket as she went.
“Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be getting on,” Mrs. Mistlemoore said. “I’ll be sending regular updates on Catriona’s condition to the Council.”
She trudged back through the hospital ward door. The rest of us stood around in silence for a moment before we all seemed to collectively realize that there was no reason to stay there anymore, and started walking back toward the entrance hall. Finn excused himself at the doors, saying he needed to return to the barracks to prepare for the opening processional of the Airechtas. I followed Hannah and Milo into the dining room. It was packed with people, all getting something to eat before the long afternoon of sessions began. I knew I should eat something, too, but as I walked past the trays of delicious food that had been laid out for the luncheon, I felt no hunger—only a vague and unsettling nausea. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a pair of dinner rolls, and made my way over to our traditional corner of solitude.
§
I sat staring into my coffee, thinking. I’d never cared for Catriona, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t profoundly disturbed by what I’d just witnessed. I had never seen Catriona display even the faintest sign of weakness—or indeed, much emotion at all. She was always so aloof, so impressively unconcerned with even serious situations, that watching her victimized like that was deeply disturbing. It was as though I had watched, helpless, as an impregnable fortress had been breached. And of course, watching the complete bafflement of Mrs. Mistlemoore and the others had only deepened my disquiet. I generally expected not to know what the hell was going on in the Durupinen world—it was basically my default setting these days. But if the Council and the entire hospital ward staff, with all of their collective experience in the spirit world, couldn’t understand what was happening to Catriona… that was truly unsettling.
I was not so naïve as to believe that the Necromancers would never resurface; after watching the Council’s hubris drive the entire Durupinen world to the brink of decimation, I was not about to repeat their mistake. Still, I had hoped that we would not face such a dangerous threat again so soon. An open assault was frightening, but at least you could see it coming. An attack like this—if that’s actually what it was—was a different kind of terrifying. It was insidious and undetectable. Whatever was Habitating in Catriona had done so without her realization. She had carried it unwittingly into the castle, a poisonous seed taking root inside her. Even as I tried to convince myself that Mrs. Mistlemoore and her staff would heal Catriona, I could not silence the nagging fear that she might be beyond their help.
“Jess?”
“Huh?”
Hannah’s inquisitive gaze pulled me up out of the rabbit hole my fears had sent me down. I met her eyes, and knew she understood exactly what I’d been brooding about.
“You really should try to eat those,” she said, pointing to the dinner rolls. “And something else, if you can manage it. That session is going to be long this afternoon, and somehow I don’t think the Council gives snack breaks.”
I tried to smile. “Really? You don’t think they have ancient tables set up for donuts and coffee in there?”
“I don’t think pastries are part of the ages-old traditions of Durupinen lawmaking,” Hannah replied.
“Well, that’s a crime. We should definitely suggest a policy change,” I said, before biting unenthusiastically into a roll.
“Speaking of making policy changes, we haven’t really had a lot of time to think about what Finvarra told us yesterday,” Hannah said quietly. She had dropped her eyes to her lunch; she’d eaten barely a bite, either.
“No, we haven’t,” I said with a sigh. “And it sounds like she’s going to nominate us whether we want her to or not.”
“So, what should we do?” Hannah asked. “I mean, what do you want to do?”
I finished chewing my roll, which had suddenly taken on the taste and consistency of gravel in my mouth. “I don’t know yet. I honestly don’t. She’s going to nominate us regardless, so I don’t think we have to decide anything yet.”
Hannah nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true.”
“I mean, most of the Durupinen either mistrust us or are terrified of us. I can’t imagine that anyone is actually going to cast a vote to let us anywhere near a Council seat, can you?”
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“And even if we wake up in some weird alternate universe where we are voted in, we don’t have to accept that seat. We could decline it. No one can force us to serve on the Council.”
“That is also true,” Hannah said.
I looked around the room. Three or four people at the nearest table were staring at us, hastily turning away when I caught their eyes. I laughed. “You know what? I say we just let Finvarra nominate us. It will probably be amusing to watch the panic that ensues. Maybe it will ease the mind-numbing boredom.”
“That’s the spirit!” Hannah said, actually grinning now, then turning to Milo. “How about you, Milo? Did you decide if you are coming to the meeting?”
“I may make an appearance,” Milo said airily. “It’s important to exercise the special privileges of the Spirit Guide.”
Mackie had explained to us that ghosts were not allowed in the Airechtas sessions, unless they had been summoned there for a specific purpose, such as to give testimony or to act in some other official capacity. The one exception to this rule was Spirit Guides, who were considered an extension of a clan’s Gateway, and therefore invited to attend all sessions. They could not represent the clan in an official capacity: only Durupinen could do that. Otherwise, I would have cheerfully left the meetings to him and found somewhere to hide until this entire process was over.
“Be sure to use the connection to let me know if things get interesting, though,” Milo said. “I don’t want to miss any Durupinen cat fights or drama.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ah, yes. Everyone’s favorite reality show, 'Durupinen Policy Decisions’. About as exciting as C-SPAN, I’d imagine.”
“Hey, you’re going to have Marion in there. I would not underestimate the potential for edge-of-your-seat drama if I were you.” Milo said, and though he said it lightly, his eyes were troubled. “Just remember, her brand of drama queen thrives on a steady diet of attention. Don’t feed the queen, you got me?”
“I’m not going say two words to her, if I can help it,” I said firmly. “Whatever she’s trying to stir up, I’m staying out of it, if I can.”
“'If you can’ being the operative words, sweetness,” Milo said. Ever the mature adult, I stuck my tongue out at him.
A sudden striking of a gong made all three of us scream. I swiveled in my seat to check the grandfather clock in the corner and saw everyone rising from their chairs and proceeding toward the door out to the entrance hall.
“And so, it begins,” I muttered.
33
The Airechtas
SILENTLY, WE JOINED THE LINE in the entrance hall. Mackie was walking along it, consulting a clipboard and instructing other Durupinen where to stand. We approached her and waited while she made a note on her list.
“Hey there, you two. Want to know your spot in the parade? You’re right behind the marching band,” she said, gesturing
along the line.
“Very funny,” I said. “Just tell us where to go.”
“Wait, we need to put these on,” Hannah said, reaching into her bag, and pulling out our clan sashes and Triskele pendants. She handed them to me with an apologetic look on her face.
I swallowed every snarky, whiney comment I had and flung the sash irritably over my shoulder. As if it weren’t bad enough we had to attend this thing, we also had to endure a freaking costume change.
“You know Fairhaven,” Mackie said genially, perhaps in response to the look on my face. “Nothing passes without the appropriate pomp and circumstance.”
“We noticed,” I said, and then leaned in so that no one would overhear us. “Did you hear about Catriona?”
Mackie’s smile slid off her face. “Yeah, I heard about that, alright. I’ve been trying to dodge questions about her for the last few minutes. Is she going to be okay, do you reckon?”
“I have no idea. She was far from okay when we left the hospital wing,” I said. “Did Celeste mention if they have an official diagnosis?”
“Nah, they’re just as stymied as they were when they brought her in. Celeste isn’t sure how much to tell everyone. She doesn’t want to draw attention to it, but at the same time they can hardly hide the fact that one of the Council members is conspicuously absent from today’s proceedings,” Mackie said.
“Is there even any point to having the meeting today? I thought every clan had to be accounted for, without exception; that’s what Karen told us. Can the Airechtas even proceed with a Council member missing?” Hannah asked.
“It could, if Catriona had someone to stand in for her, but the only other Durupinen from her clan is Lucida and… well…” Mackie trailed off, looking sheepish.
