Spirit Ascendancy

by E. E. Holmes

  “Sorry it took me so long to get away, my lovelies,” Lucida said, closing the door shut behind her, though not before scanning the corridor carefully to be sure she hadn’t been followed. “Fairhaven is in a right state, and I had quite a few arses to kiss and tasks to complete before I could get away.” She didn’t even break her stride, but proceeded straight across the room to the window leading to the fire escape. She jerked the curtain back and glared intently into the street below for a solid minute. Then she took out a cell phone, pressed a few buttons, flipped it over, pulled out the battery and the memory card, and flung it out the window. We heard it shatter in the dumpster below with a hollow clang.

  “You seen anyone about?” she asked Finn, eyes still trained on the street.

  “No,” Finn said. “No loiterers, and no repeat walk-bys except for the typical commuters. You got the descriptions of the men I sent with the photos?”

  “Yes. They’d be hard to miss, but then again, I wouldn’t expect them to be back. They’d have to be thick to send the same men they’d sent before, and I know they aren’t thick. Marion, on the other hand…” She rolled her eyes.

  “What about her?” I asked.

  “Well, she’s just part of it, really. Fairhaven is a right mess, and I’m not just talking about the fire damage. The whole infrastructure has gone tits up. The Council is fighting like mad over whether to reinstate Finvarra, and they can’t agree what to do about you lot. Some of them think it’s best to just let you disappear; out of sight, out of mind. Others want to track you down so they can keep you under their watchful eye, locked up tight in the dungeon. And then there’s a small but pretty vocal minority who want to…” She drew a theatrical finger across her throat with a horrible squelching noise. “They think the only way to avoid the prophecy is to make sure you aren’t alive to fulfill it. Logical, sure, but just a bit controversial. Whatever else we may get up to, murder is not one of our usual pursuits.”

  She paused in her explanation, apparently just to enjoy the horrified looks on our faces at the news that Council members wanted to murder us.

  “That’s not really a shock, is it? Surely we all realize that things are deadly serious at this point,” she said, smirking.

  I swallowed. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just… hearing it out loud like that…”

  “Well, no use dancing around the facts, love,” Lucida said. She took one last peek through the curtains, and then walked over to the kitchen, where she perched on the counter and helped herself to a box of chocolate biscuits. “Anyway, Marion is one of that minority, of course, but that’s not the real problem. She’s always had it out for you two. No, the real problem is her attitude toward the Necromancers.”

  “You mean the fact that she refuses to believe that they’re back or that they pose any kind of real threat to the Durupinen?” I asked.

  “Right in one,” Lucida said. “Fairhaven has never been so vulnerable, from the inside and the outside, and there’s a good chance the Necromancers are going to look for you there. If they come across the place in its current state of disarray, they may try to attack, regardless of whether you’re there, just to take advantage of the opportunity. Everyone needs to be on their guard. I needed to find a way to warn the Council about the Necromancers without them realizing that I’m helping you hide. It wasn’t easy, but I laid a fake trail in one of the locations we Trackers have been searching for you.”

  “How did you do that?” Hannah asked.

  “I managed to get into one of the flats we were supposed to search, an hour before the other Trackers showed up. I used the photos Finn sent me, and made it look like the Necromancers had gotten there first; castings on the floor, runes on the walls, and smashed up the furniture just for good measure. Then I circled back around and pretended to enter the flat for the first time with the rest of the team. It worked like a charm, but when we brought the evidence before the Council, that was another matter entirely.”

  “They wouldn’t believe you? Even with the photos of the castings and everything?” Savvy asked, evidently floored that anyone could be that intentionally stupid.

  “Marion wouldn’t hear a word of it. She just kept repeating that the Necromancers were gone, and that there must be some other explanation.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Like you lot had staged the flat to throw us off your scent,” Lucida said. She shook the last crumbs of the biscuits into her mouth and tossed the empty package aside. “Ludicrous, considering the complexity of the castings. No offense, but none of you have the skill or the knowledge to pull off even half of what we showed them. And some of them aren’t even found in Durupinen teachings, so where they think you found those, I’ve got no bloody idea. Anyway, I told her flat out that I thought the Necromancers were back, and that they were looking for you just like we are. I told her she needed to secure the castle and put the Caomhnóir on high alert.”

  “And let me guess, she’s not doing any of it,” I said.

  “Correct again,” Lucida said. “She also forbade anyone on the Tracker team to alert the rest of the castle to our suspicions. So now everyone in that castle is a sitting duck, and if the Necromancers do show up, infiltrating it will be a lark.”

  “But there has to be something you can do,” Hannah said.

  “Yeah, since when have you listened to Marion?” I added.

  “And I’m not about to start now,” Lucida said, winking. “I told Catriona everything before I left. She’ll spread the word as best she can, but if it’s not coming directly from the Council, I doubt many people will listen.”

  Hannah dropped her face into her hands. “But then how can they—”

  “Look, love, I appreciate that you’re worried about them. I am too, but we haven’t got time to worry about anyone but ourselves at the moment. We’ve warned them, and that’s the best we can do for the moment,” Lucida said, and her voice, though brisk, was not without emotion. “And speaking of ourselves, we’ve got to get moving. We’re scheduled to be out of this flat and on our way in the next hour, so it’s time to get your stuff together.”

  “We’re leaving? Where are we going?” I asked.

  “A safe house I’ve set up for you. It’s a miracle they haven’t found you yet, and we don’t want to lose any more time, so chop, chop. Put what you need in a bag. I won’t delay for nothing when I get the all clear.”

  Everyone leapt into action. Savvy ran into the bedroom to start gathering things, and a moment later, Annabelle emerged, tousle-haired and wide-eyed.

  “Savvy woke me up. She says we’re leaving?” she asked the room at large. Her eyes fell on Lucida and she froze.

  “This is Lucida,” Hannah told her quickly. “She’s my mentor from Fairhaven, the one we told you was helping to hide us.”

  Lucida waved languidly at Annabelle. “The sensitive, right?”

  Annabelle nodded.

  “We’ve never met, but I broke into your shop once,” Lucida said, as casually as though she were mentioning that they had an acquaintance in common. The shock on Annabelle’s face prompted her into further explanation. “I was in charge of making sure no one outside of the Durupinen had evidence of Jess’ identity. We investigated all of her acquaintances from her ghost hunt, including you.”

  Annabelle’s body seemed to relax, though her mouth was still pressed into a tense line.

  “How are you feeling?” Lucida asked, in an uncharacteristic show of empathy.

  “Drained,” Annabelle said rather dazedly as she watched everyone scrambling to pack up. “Like I could sleep for about a month and still be tired.”

  “That’ll likely be an effect of the spirit cage. The ghosts would have tried everything to put themselves back together, including feeding on all the energy sources around them. You may find your sensitivity to the spirit world is a bit weakened for a time, until your aura replenishes.”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed that with Milo,” Annabelle said. “I can’t always h
ear him very clearly. Do you think that will improve?”

  “It should,” Lucida said, moving back to the window and checking her watch. “I’ve never seen a spirit cage used. That’s a dark bloody casting, even for life and death situations, and I doubt there’s a Durupinen alive who’s ever encountered one, let alone cast one. But I’ve read about them, and the effects ought to wear off. Just try to take it easy, and don’t exert yourself psychically, if you can avoid it.”

  “I’ll try not to,” Annabelle said.

  “Sit down and rest, Annabelle,” Hannah said as she passed her, a stack of folded shirts in her arms. “We’ll get everything together for you.” This wouldn’t be hard, seeing as everything Annabelle owned was trapped downstairs in a flat we were all too scared to enter again. Finn had the foresight to grab her wallet, passport, and purse from the table before sealing the place for good. She was now living out of the same communal clothing pile as the rest of us.

  It only took about fifteen minutes to gather everything we wanted to bring with us from the odd assortment of belongings we’d amassed from convenience and charity shops during our stay. Milo surveyed our pathetic worldly possessions with a critical eye.

  “Y’all don’t know how lucky you are that I can no longer obsess over my wardrobe choices,” he said. “You’d be long gone and I’d be here when the Necromancers busted in, still weighing the pros and cons of cashmere versus a cotton blend.”

  “Yeah, we dodged a bullet on that one,” Savvy said with a grin. Hannah giggled.

  “Right, then,” Lucida said, surveying our ragtag group. “You’ve got everything?”

  “I think so,” Savvy said. “We didn’t have much to begin with.”

  Lucida’s phone buzzed dully against her palm, and she answered it. “Give me the good news,” she said, by way of greeting whoever was on the other end. She listened a moment, then said, “On our way.” She pocketed the phone and turned back to us. “This is it. Keep with me. I’ll tell you a bit more about where we’re going once we’re safely into the car.”

  “Who’s meeting us?” I asked.

  “Never you mind. A friend,” Lucida snapped. “And he’s here, so let’s scarper.” She looked out the window to the end of the alleyway and sighed. “Grey four door Volvo. Blimey, can’t he ever pick anything with a little get-up-and-go? I’ll look like a mum at after-school pick up driving that thing. Ah, well.” She twitched the curtain shut again and crossed the room in a single fluid bound. “Keep your eyes open for anything dodgy.”

  We filed through the door of Lyle’s flat with all of its wacky, teetering piles of royal memorabilia. I wondered, with a vaguely guilty squirm, what would happen to it all; his sad life’s obsession, most likely the future contents of the nearest available dumpster. I’d never really found out what had happened to Lyle, so desperate to return to his den of carefully stacked delusions, but I felt sure that his continued absence meant that he must have Crossed when Hannah had opened the Gateway to save me. I remember thinking, as I pulled the door shut, that it was depressing as hell.

  And hell, in apparent reply, broke loose.

  Every light in the stairwell went out at once, plunging us into utter darkness.

  “Go back!” Lucida shouted. “Get back in the flat, now!”

  The end of her warning was lost in the sudden echoing cacophony of footsteps that seemed to come from every direction at once; it was impossible to tell how many sets of them there were, but it sounded like an army’s worth. Deep, harsh voices were shouting unfamiliar words and phrases that I couldn’t understand, but nonetheless recognized from their lilt as some form of Gaelic. Then the darkness filled with horrible cries and shouts and moans that rent the air, assaulting my eardrums as a thousand spirits flooded the stairwell. Their energy and emotions pressed in on all sides, creating a wild, bewildering chaos. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe.

  In blind panic, I spun on the spot and started sprinting for the door to the flat, but my way was blocked by strong, grasping arms that yanked and tore at my jacket as they tried to get a hold of me. I swung out violently with my right arm and heard a gasp of pain as my knuckles collided with a skull. I threw another one of them off as I swung my left hand which clutched a large, heavy bag of shoes. I heard more grunts as a body tumbled past me and down the stairs, knocking into my leg and nearly pulling me with it, but I found the railing as I lurched forward and barely managed to steady myself.

  Another hand closed around my wrist, but as I struggled against it, Finn’s voice called over the tumult. “It’s me! Hold on to me! We need to get out of this stairwell!”

  We began to descend the stairs, feeling our way blindly, thrashing and kicking out against human and ghost alike, not a clue who we were striking.

  Another hand had grabbed at my hair. I clawed at it, and heard, “Ouch! Jess? It’s me!”

  “Savvy?”

  “Yes!”

  “Hold on to me! We’re getting out of here!”

  We fought our way step by step down to the landing. Finn stopped abruptly, and we fell back as the scuffling sounds of a fight broke out. A foot connected with my shoulder and I stumbled back into Savvy, sending us both crashing into the wall. I cracked the back of my head on the corner of the railing and saw stars for a moment before scrambling to my feet again. Finn was shouting.

  “Annabelle, it’s okay, it’s me, it’s Finn! Give me the fire extinguisher!”

  I heard Annabelle sobbing hysterically, “He fell over the railing!” Something heavy and metal clunked to the floor. More scuffling had broken out on the stairs just below us. Lucida was swearing and grunting as she fought off more of the attackers, and then there was a terrible sound of thumping and cracking as one or all of them tumbled to the ground below.

  “Hold on to me,” Finn was saying to Annabelle. “Stay with me, we’re going down.”

  Somewhere below us, amidst the din, Milo was yelling something incoherent and Hannah was screaming.

  “Hannah!” I called.

  “Jess! Where are you? Help me!”

  I couldn’t even begin to find her. She was just another voice among the discord.

  “Hannah!” I cried again into the chaos. “Finn, we have to get to her!”

  “I know! Her voice is coming from down there! Keep moving!” he shouted back at me.

  I couldn’t hear myself think; the ghosts in the stairwell were bombarding us with an absolute tempest of sound and sensation. It was all I could do to clutch tightly to Finn and Savvy as we struggled forward and fought the urge to pass out from the insanity of it all.

  Finally, our feet found the bottom of the stairs. Finn began sliding along the wall until his hand reached what he was looking for: the light switch. The sudden return of the light was blinding, and we all squinted against it. Three forms were crumpled at the base of the stairwell. One of the men was stirring feebly, clutching his ribs. Another was trying to stem the flow of blood gushing from a laceration on his heavily tattooed head. And the third was Lucida.

  Everything stopped in a frozen moment of disbelief. I looked down at Lucida, her eyes glassy and staring, one of her legs bent at the strangest angle, her signature stiletto heel dangling from her foot.

  Her lifeless foot.

  A sudden cry broke the hideous spell. Finn was already pulling us forward as, ahead of us, Hannah was disappearing through the door at the end of the hallway, screaming bloody murder and flailing like a captured animal between two large, tattooed men. The moment they crossed the threshold, the deafening spirit attack ceased, leaving the air hollow and empty around us.

  We raced through the door and burst into the alleyway outside. At the end of it, the Necromancers were attempting to force Hannah into the back of a large black van. Milo was flying at them, through them, using every bit of strength he could muster to stop them.

  “Let go of her! Get the hell away from her right now!” he was screeching, causing the door of the van to slide nearly
shut before one of the Necromancers could catch it with his elbow and force it open again. Another tore back his sleeve, revealing something inked onto his wrist. He muttered something we couldn’t hear as we pelted toward them, but suddenly Milo reeled away from the van as though it had been instantly warded against him. He gently floated to a stop and hung in the air, motionless and silent.

  “There she is! There’s the other one!”

  Two more Necromancers had rounded the corner of the building and began running at us. Finn skidded to a stop so quickly that Savvy, Annabelle, and I slammed into him. He stood there for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth between me and Hannah, bouncing on the balls of his feet. I watched the decision form on his face, saw him nod to himself. Then he turned his back on Hannah and looked at us, his eyes blazing with determination.

  “No.”

  I knew what it meant, and I couldn’t let him do it. I wouldn’t let him do it.

  “Run. Now. This way,” he ordered, and yanked us in the opposite direction.

  “No, Finn, wait! Hannah! We have to get Hannah!” I screamed, as he pulled me away from her. “Hannah!”

  But it was too late. Hannah was already vanishing, still kicking and screaming for all she was worth, into the yawning black mouth of the van. With a resounding slam, the door slid shut, and the van peeled away. From the gap in the alley behind where it was parked, three more Necromancers emerged, and gave chase.

  We were running for all we were worth toward the grey Volvo parked at the end of the alley, its hazards flashing yellow patches onto the surrounding brick. It was empty, and the driver’s side door was standing open, waiting for us. The Necromancers were gaining on us, five of them now, closing the gap as they sprinted in our direction.

  Finn reached the car first, wrenching the passenger side door open and shoving me unceremoniously through it. Savvy and Annabelle piled in practically on top of me as Finn ran around to the driver’s side and jumped in, foot to the gas before the door had even properly closed behind him. The tires screeched as he peeled out into the street amid blaring horns and pedestrians running for cover.