Spirit Ascendancy

by E. E. Holmes

  “So this is it. This is our best chance to find out where she is,” I said.

  “All we need to do is tolerate the possession long enough to hear something that will give us a clue,” Milo said, nodding. “It’s not going to be easy. I can feel it draining my energy.”

  “You don’t look good,” I said.

  He smirked at me. “Please. I always look good. Don’t hate.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean. You look… depleted. We have to take it easy. We don’t know what we’re doing. We might even be hurting you.”

  “I know, you’re right,” Milo said. “Just give me a few minutes to recover.”

  We sat in the charged silence, exhausted but buzzing with the excitement of our discovery. I was vaguely aware of Flavia, hovering uncertainly a few yards away, waiting for some kind of signal that we were ready for her to approach again.

  “Did you notice,” I said as my head finally started to clear, “that it sort of got brighter when we concentrated together?

  “Now that you mention it, yeah, I did. What do you think that was about?”

  “I’m not sure, but I have a theory. We were already hearing everything that was going on wherever she is. Maybe if we concentrate hard enough, we might be able to see something?”

  Milo frowned, deep in thought. His form was beginning to clarify again, as though he was catching his spiritual breath.

  “Sometimes, when Hannah Calls me, I can almost see her surroundings. I’m not really sure how to explain it; I can still see where I am, but it’s almost like someone puts a film over my eyes, and there’s this pale suggestion of her surroundings printed on it. I’ve never really thought too much about it—I figured it was just a natural part of our connection. So maybe you’re right. Maybe if we can focus ourselves in the right way, we might be able to see something.”

  “Do you feel up to trying now, or do you think we should wait a little longer?” I asked.

  Milo looked down at the specter of his own hand, considering. “Let’s give it a few hours. I’m still feeling sort of… weaker than usual. And besides, you’ve just been through a lot, too. Your body probably needs some time to recover, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, let’s wait, then,” I agreed. “But not tonight, though, or she might be asleep. We don’t want to waste your energy if there’s no real chance we’ll hear anything, and we need to make sure we’re taking our best shot at getting some real information. As much as I hate to say it, let’s wait until the morning.”

  Milo looked as torn as I felt, but he nodded. “You’re right. Let’s not screw this up by rushing it.”

  I motioned to Flavia, who scurried over. “We need to talk to Ileana,” I said.

  “What’s happened?” she asked, handing me a glass of water.

  “I think we might have found Hannah.”

  Flavia’s jaw dropped. She looked in confusion from us to the enclosure. “But how…”

  “I have no idea. But we need to tell Ileana, and anyone else who has been involved in the search for my sister.” I chugged the water, flopped back onto the grass, and closed my eyes. “And then I need to sleep for about a year if we are going to try that again.”

  A breeze swept through the clearing, bringing with it the faint echoes of Irina’s wracking sobs. It was, without a doubt, the most heartbreaking sound I had ever heard.

  14

  Manipulations

  THE SAME STEADY DRIPPING.

  The same cavernous quality to the sound.

  No humming. No sniffing. Only steady, slow breathing.

  A dank room came nearly into focus, like watching the scene through a rain-washed pane of glass. The walls and floor were rough stone. High above, narrow slanted openings cast the only natural light in long strips across it. In one corner stood a brass bedstead, its mattress made up with a pale blue blanket. Two slender legs lay bent upon the blanket, two dirty knees cupped under skinny, grubby-nailed fingers. To the left, a small wooden side table held a tray of food and a glass of water. A single yellow flower, a daisy, stood propped and drooping slightly in a milk bottle.

  A door opened, a door only visible by the chinks of light filtering in around it. A figure stood in silhouette, arms crossed over its chest.

  “You’ve not eaten your food. Again.” His voice was deep and gravelly.

  “I’m not hungry. Again.” Hannah’s voice though tiny and cracked, was defiant.

  “Very well,” said the figure, and it strode across the room. It bent to pick up the tray, but froze at the sound of a second voice.

  “Leave it, Simon. Our guest may change her mind.”

  “I won’t,” said Hannah, as Simon turned and exited the room, revealing the owner of the second voice. It was Neil Caddigan.

  His eyes shone, strangely pale and bright beneath bushy white brows and white hair that was much longer than it had been when he first appeared in Culver Library under the guise of an earnest scholar. He wore a long black coat over his dark clothes, and a silver pin gleamed at his throat. His hands, spidery with a network of large bluish veins, were folded leisurely in his lap as he sat, apparently quite at his ease, on a wooden stool. He smiled, revealing very white, rather crooked teeth.

  “Now, now, Miss Ballard. You will need your strength in the days ahead,” he said. “I assure you the food is quite good. Simon is an exemplary cook.”

  Hannah glanced at the tray, where large slices of roasted chicken, potatoes, and carrots had congealed together in a pool of gravy. With a swift, decisive motion, she kicked it, sending it flying off the little table and across the floor, crashing into the opposite wall. The little flower went with it, its petals scattering on impact.

  Neil didn’t even flinch. He chuckled. “And here I thought your sister was the feisty one.”

  “Where is my sister? What have you done with her?”

  Neil raised his eyebrows, like the question surprised him. “Nothing whatsoever. We do not know where she is, though we are searching, of course.”

  “And what about Milo? I can’t connect to him. What have you done to him?” She was attempting to keep her voice calm, but the panic was creeping in, driving her pitch up.

  “Your spirit guide is fine. We merely interrupted your connection temporarily, so that we could speak to you without his interference. I assure you that when we have concluded our business, your connection will be restored, as clear as ever it was.”

  Hannah hesitated. Apparently she had expected more animosity; the polite answers to her questions were throwing her off. “What about—”

  Neil actually laughed. “Hannah, you needn’t worry. If it’s your friends you are worried about, I can assure you that we are doing everything we can to locate them and bring them here safely.”

  “You’re Neil, aren’t you?” Hannah asked. “I recognize you from the drawing Jess did, after you tried to run her off the road.”

  “How rude of me,” Neil said. “I ought to have introduced myself straight away, though I see it wasn’t entirely necessary. Yes, I am Neil Caddigan. I do apologize for my delay in coming to see you. I didn’t intend to leave you without explanation for so many days, but I had other pressing business to attend to, and I’m afraid the castings we used to subdue you took some time to wear off. And how are you feeling today?”

  Hannah ignored the question. “You’re a Necromancer.”

  “Right again. You are better informed than I might have imagined, though I think I may still have one or two things yet that may surprise you,” Neil said, his smile broadening.

  “I’m not listening to anything you’ve got to say. I know what you want, and I will never agree to it, so you are wasting your time,” Hannah said, a tremor shivering through her voice.

  “Those are hasty words from someone who, forgive me, is very ill-informed about what it is I have to say,” Neil said, waggling his finger at her like she was a disobedient puppy. “I’ve not asked you to do anything, Hannah, nor will I force you into d
oing anything that you do not readily agree to. I hope that we may be clear about that, right from the off.”

  Hannah sat up a little straighter. “But… you have me locked in here. You kidnapped me.”

  “Now, now, kidnap is a harsh word. We did abduct you, it is true, but it was for your own protection, Hannah,” Neil said, as though it ought to have been abundantly obvious. “We had no desire to hurt you, or I assure you, we would have done so already. All we have done is to ensure that the Durupinen out hunting for you could not find and capture you. We have brought you here, and we have done all we could to ensure that you are safe.” He gestured around the room. “I realize these old castles are drafty and a bit antiquated in style, but we have endeavored to make your quarters as comfortable as we could. We have not tied you up, or starved you, though you are making a valiant attempt to starve yourself.” He looked ruefully at the food spattered across the floor. I do wish you would see it as a rescue, for that is undoubtedly what it was.”

  “A rescue? I’m supposed to believe it was a rescue?” Hannah cried, her voice breaking. “You killed my mentor! Lucida is dead because of you, and I’m supposed to trust you? You’re out of your mind.”

  Neil, oddly enough, was still smiling. “I’m going to show you something, and I hope that, after you see it, you will perhaps be a bit more receptive to what I have to say.”

  He stood up and walked almost casually toward the door; there was so much bounce in his step he might have been whistling. He opened the door and crooked a finger at someone standing on the other side of it.

  And Lucida walked into the room, flashing a dazzling smile.

  “Lucida!” Three voices shouted the name at once. If there were a moment Milo and I might have broken our focus and lost the connection to what Hannah was seeing, that was it. But desperate desire to know what the hell was going on kept us clinging to our vision, even as we fought to keep it clear and steady.

  “Surprise, love.”

  Hannah gasped. The gasp twisted into a sob, and then a strangled, “Oh my God! Lucida! But you were… I saw you… oh my God!” And she staggered to her feet and into Lucida’s waiting arms, which closed around her and hugged her tightly.

  “I know. I know, and I’m sorry, love. But I had to make it look clean, for the Durupinen who came to investigate.”

  “But I don’t understand. What happened? You were dead, I saw you.”

  “Not dead, love. You remember I told you I’d done a bit of leeching before I came to fetch you? Actually I’d done a whole hell of a lot of leeching. I stored the energy up, so that I could heal myself when we staged the accident.”

  “Leeching spirit energy can do that?” Hannah asked, her voice awed.

  “Yes, if it’s done properly. Oh, Hannah, there are so many things that our power as Callers can bring to us, and the Necromancers are the only ones with the vision to realize it!”

  “I still don’t understand. Are you working with them?” Hannah asked, pulling back slightly from Lucida.

  “Now, now,” Lucida said. “Sit down and listen. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “I… yes. That is to say, I did trust you, but—”

  “If you trusted me then, you can trust me now,” Lucida cooed, stroking Hannah’s hair. “Have I ever led you astray?”

  “No.”

  “Then listen to me, love. Listen to both of us,” she said, and held out a hand toward Neil, who resumed his seat on the stool. He took it, gave it a quick squeeze, and released it.

  Lucida began, “Many years ago, when I was just a few years younger than you, I discovered I was different. I don’t mean that I was a Durupinen; I’d grown up surrounded by ghosts, knowing who we all were, and what my future would hold. I accepted it; I was even eager for it, proud that I would soon get my turn to protect our family secret. But when I was fifteen, the nature of my gift began to change. I had actual power over the spirits I communicated with. I could draw them to me, and push them away, and even exercise a certain measure of control over their actions. My mother was scared, and brought me to the Council. That’s when my gift became a curse.

  “The Council didn’t see me as a prodigy; they saw me as a threat. Callers had always been linked to the prophecy, and so I scared the living shite out of them. Before I could say ‘Bob’s your uncle,’ I was ripped from my home, separated from my family, and all but imprisoned. I was subjected to a barrage of testing and experimentation. My entire family was interrogated, and I was poked and prodded and made to perform like a circus monkey for months before they finally determined I was not the Caller from the prophecy. Oops. Our mistake. So sorry. Moving right along.

  “And then I was supposed to give up the rest of my life to them. I was supposed to serve them without question, to subjugate myself to their rules and their traditions, and I was meant to do it with a bloody smile on my face. You ought to be able to imagine how I felt about that.”

  Hannah nodded her head. “I do. I do understand.”

  “I know you do, because they’ve done the same to you,” Lucida said. “With my training nearly over, I was starting to wonder how I could stand to live my life this way, and that’s when Neil found me.”

  And here Neil smiled in an almost paternal way at Lucida, though he did not interrupt her.

  “The Necromancers had been keeping an eye on me, too,” Lucida went on. “They knew what I was, but unlike the Durupinen, they saw me as a blessing rather than a threat. One day when I’d snuck out into the city, Neil found me, and told me the truth; a truth that would change the course of my life.”

  And she turned to him, like a child awaiting a favorite bedtime story. He obliged by picking up the thread, and Hannah turned to him now, transfixed.

  “You’ve heard of us through Durupinen history,” he said. “But history, as you know, is written by the victors, and we have been vilified through the ages, well beyond what we have deserved. We made our mistakes. We have had leaders who have gotten carried away with their own power. We have fought, and killed, and died, all in the name of our ancient brotherhood. But the very same can be said for the Durupinen. We have stood up for our own power and our own beliefs. This does not make us evil, though the Durupinen would have you believe that it does.”

  “That depends on what your beliefs are,” Hannah said. “Fighting for what you believe in isn’t good unless you are fighting for good. You want to destroy the Gateways and control the spirits. You want to drag them back and enslave them. There’s nothing right or good in that.”

  “And here, my pet, you are wrong again. I cannot blame you,” Neil said. “I expected you would be spewing this sort of rubbish. What else would they teach you but their own propaganda?”

  “It’s not propaganda!” Hannah said. “I’ve heard the prophecy. I’ve seen what you do to the people who get in your way.”

  “And what of the people who get in the Durupinen’s way? What would have happened to you, if you hadn’t managed to escape that place before the Council had its way with you?” He let the question hang unanswered in the air before going on. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s return to when we found Lucida. Lucida, perhaps you’d better tell Hannah about it after all. I fear we are not good enough friends to warrant this conversation.”

  “I’ll never be friends with you,” Hannah spat.

  “Never say never, my dear,” Neil said.

  Lucida jumped in before Hannah could retort. “Neil sat me down and told me the truth about the history between the Durupinen and the Necromancers. The Durupinen have always maintained that we exist solely for the purpose of regulating and maintaining the Gateways; that only we can open and close them, and only we can control the flow of spirits through them. This is a lie.”

  Hannah blinked. “A lie?”

  Lucida nodded solemnly. “A lie, love. The truth is that the Gateways should be open all the time, for spirits to pass freely through them. They should be monitored, certainly, but it is not for us to decide i
f and when a spirit should seek rest. The Durupinen took this power and they perverted it. They may have started out with good intentions in the beginning, but the system has eroded over time. Surely you’ve seen it for yourself; we both have: the corruption, the blatant abuse of power. I’ve seen it. Hell, I’ve been a part of it. But the truth is that the Durupinen aren’t entitled to the power they wield. They just took it, knowing that one day someone would take it back from them and set things right.”

  Hannah looked back and forth between Neil and Lucida, waiting for someone to explain. When they didn’t, she said, “I don’t understand. Who is supposed to take it?”

  “You are.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” Neil said. “Why do you think they fear you so much, Hannah? They do not deserve their power. They know this. They have known it for decades, maybe even centuries. They have known that from amongst them, one would rise to claim that power for her own, and that the Necromancers would be the ones to teach her how to wield it. Their fear is not for the Gateways or the spirits, or any other noble cause: they fear their own downfall, nothing more. So they have done everything they could fathom to thwart it, and have destroyed many lives as a result. But they have failed. In spite of all their carefully laid plans, in spite of everything they did to prevent it, here you are.”

  “I… but I’m not… it can’t be me,” Hannah said, her voice a terrified squeak.

  “But it is,” Lucida said. “It is you. And just think, Hannah, just think what you could—”

  “That’s enough, Lucida,” Neil said, placing a gentle but restraining hand on Lucida’s shoulder, extinguishing the smolder of excitement in her eyes. “Poor Hannah has enough new information to digest, and we must let her digest it, if we are to move forward.”

  Lucida ran an affectionate finger down the side of Hannah’s face. Hanna did not smile, but she did not brush it away either. “You’re right. We’ll have time for all that. Nothing but time.”

  “Now Hannah, I understand that you like books,” Neil said.