Awakening

by Catrina Burgess

  “So we let them die?” I demanded.

  He shook his head. “We come back when we have reinforcements. We make a stand against the whole group with my guild. We take these guys out and stop them from ever doing this again.”

  “But your guild won’t be back for another week.” We’d no idea what the guys were planning. If we didn’t know what spell they were trying to power, how would we stop them? If Luke’s guild came back would they keep me out of the fight? How could I be sure they would make my family’s murderers pay? “What if they release this terrible, powerful spell before your family gets back?”

  “Colina, we can’t stop these men on our own. We need help. Right now we need to focus on getting Darla out.” His voice was calm, he was trying to reason with me. “I swear to you, when my family is back in town we will go back, and we will save everyone.”

  “Save everyone who’s still alive?” I was mad. The anger was flowing through my veins. “If they’re responsible for all the deaths, if they’ve been posing as redeemers, then they’ve already killed five people. Six including Sarah. How many more will die in a week?”

  “There are only three of us. What do you think we can do?”

  “Fight, save everyone.”

  His anger was back, but this time directed at me. “You’re being unrealistic. I have power, but Freddy isn’t mage born.”

  “What about me? You said that, after the three trials, I would have the power.” I could apparently create zombies. What else could I do?

  “To have true power you need to learn spells. It would take months, maybe a year or more to teach you Latin. It’s a long road to teach you the spells you need to become a powerful wizard. But you do have the power now to bind banshees.” He lifted his hand before I could interrupt. “I can show you how to create banshees. It’s powerful magic.”

  “You want me to make slaves out of lost spirits?”

  He raised his voice. “I told you before you’re a death dealer now, binding banshees is part of the magic we wield.”

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

  “You don’t have a choice!” He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. ”I don’t know what you expect me to do. We have a slim chance of getting Darla out. An extremely slim chance, but I’m willing to take the chance to save my sister. You of all people should understand.”

  I could. I’d have done anything to save my family. I’d have given my own life trying to protect them, but I couldn’t stop thinking of those other people. Those innocent people being held against their will, waiting to be slaughtered by the men who’d killed my family.

  I knew Luke was focused on getting his sister to safety, but my goals were not his. There was no saving my family--I could only avenge their death. The men needed to pay for what they’d done, at any price. I’d wanted desperately to be reunited with my family, and now I may get my wish. I shook my head. I didn’t want to die--I wanted the bad guys to die. I wanted them to rot in hell.

  I suddenly felt exhausted. I’d survived the trials. I’d apparently raised a couple of zombies, and now I had to learn to create banshees so I could storm a mansion against an army. The chances of us surviving this ordeal were less than slim.

  I turned back toward Luke. “So, we are heading back to Pagan’s?”

  “We should be there in a few minutes.” The anger had left his voice. He sounded as tired as I felt.

  “Binding banshees? When do we start the lessons?” What choice did I have but to do it?

  “We need to get some food in us and then get a few hours sleep.” He glanced over at me. “Colina, I know you’ve been strong through this whole thing, this won’t be bad, I promise it’s not as bad as you think.”

  I really wanted to believe him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Time to Bind a Spirit

  Pagan’s house was in shambles. Shattered glass and shredded papers covered the floor. Someone had taken a knife to the couch and pulled most of the stuffing out through the long, jagged slits in the leather. The dining room table was turned over, and the wooden chairs looked like they’d been slammed against the ground until parts of them had finally flown off.

  What was the point of all the destruction? Had they been searching for something?

  Luke picked a book off the floor. Someone had ruthlessly vandalized the once ornate cover and ripped out a handful of pages. “This is one of the books I need. We have to see if we can find the missing pages.”

  He had to be kidding--he wanted to stay here? To go through this mess? And what if these maniacs came back? What would they do to us if they did this much violence to inanimate objects?

  “It’s cold in here. I’ll start a fire.” He looked around and gave me a half grin. “Shouldn’t be hard to find kindling.”

  He was making jokes? I expected him to be enraged at the destruction done to Pagan’s house, instead he seemed cool and collected.

  He gestured toward the kitchen. “Can you see if they left anything for us to eat? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  I made my way into the kitchen. All the cupboard doors were wide open. Anything that they could smash was now in pieces on the floor. I stepped carefully over broken glass and looked through the cupboards. There were a few tins of food. I found a few more on the floor by the back wall. I ran my hand down the wall now covered in dents--they must have flung tins at it, it was the only thing that explained all the divots. I leaned over and picked up a can marked chili. I found a couple of pots a few feet away. If I was going to try and cook anything in here, I had to clean up the glass. I found a broom and dust pan in a closet. By the time Luke came into the kitchen, I had most of the mess swept up.

  I pointed toward the cans sitting on the counter. “There’s some chili and a can of corn.”

  “Great. I have the fire going. I found about half the books I was looking for.” He held out another book. This one seemed to have made it through the attack unscathed.

  “Find anything about your Draugrs in those books?”

  “A couple references, but nothing that would help us.”

  I started opening one of the cans, a hot and spicy southwestern chili. I poured the contents into a pot. “You still think that’s what those things were?”

  “Draugrs are the only type of magical creatures that comes close to what we saw.” He reached over and handed me another can. “I got the fire going. I tried to clean up a bit in the living room, but the place is a disaster area.”

  I looked out into the living room. “They did a number on this whole place.”

  Luke ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t see the point. Why trash the place?”

  I remembered what they had done to the magic shop. “For the fun of it?”

  “Who are these guys?”

  “A bunch of murdering crazies,” I muttered under my breath, opening a can of sweet corn.

  Luke nodded his head and gestured at the pot slowly bubbling with chili. “How long until we eat?”

  I poured the corn into another pot and turned on the burner. “It should take me about ten minutes to warm everything up.”

  Luke opened the book in his hands and looked down at the pages. “Sounds good. I’ll start searching again for the rest of the books I need.”

  There was no one to question, no one to try and get answers from. Searching through books, hoping to figure out what spell the bad guys were trying to power, seemed like a futile effort, but what other choice did we have?

  I turned my attention back to the stove and our dinner.

  * * * *

  We ate sitting in front of the fire on the floor. It had been no small job sweeping up the living room. Debris now lay in a pile in the corner.

  “It’s too bad about the couch.” I looked over at a pile of white stuffing Luke had swept against the wall.

  Luke’s expression turned grim. “Pagan picked out all the furniture herself for this place. She’s going to be devastated when
she sees what they’ve done to her house.”

  I finished eating and leaned closer to the fire.

  Luke looked over at me. “We should try and get some sleep.”

  “I’m not tired. If we’re going to do this banshee binding thing, I’d rather do it now.” I was sick of waiting. Whatever we had to do I wanted to get it over with.

  Luke put down his bowl and reached over and threw another log onto the fire. He picked up the black fire iron and fiddled with the fire for a while before turning back and asking me, “Are you sure you feel up to trying it tonight?”

  In the past when we’d talked about creating banshees I’d always argued with him about it. To me binding spirits was just plain wrong, it seemed like a form of slavery. Luke had always defended his people’s practice. I could tell by the way he was looking at me now, he was waiting for me to argue with him again. I realized I should be fighting with him about it, but I honestly didn’t feel anger. I didn’t feel anything at the moment.

  “I’m ready.”

  Luke got to his feet and left the room. When he came back, he was carrying all the things he’d used when he performed the spell to call on my family’s spirits. Candles, bowls, a bottle, raven feathers, the Ouija board and planchette. Around his neck hung the medallion. He walked over to the table and laid everything out. The Ouija board now sat in the center of the table and on top of it the planchette. Luke gestured for me to join him.

  I sat down across from him. The last time we’d used the board something not so pleasant had shown up. And so had my mother.

  Luke lit the candles. He did everything exactly the way he had the first time, he poured the contents of the bottle into the bowl, he placed his fingers in the liquid, closed his eyes and hung onto the medallion. He opened his eyes, said a few words in Latin and spread his fingers across the board, smearing the contents of the bowl against the surface of the polished wood. He wiped his hands on his pants and then reached out his hands across the table. I placed my hands in his.

  “Now the prayer.” He evoked the prayer, saying each word slowly, before letting go of my hands.

  I started to place my finger tips on the pointer.

  He raised his hand and stopped me. “This spell is a little different than the last one we did. We’re going to call on the dead like we did during the second ritual.”

  “You’re not going to tie me to a chair again, or make me wear a funky white dress?” I watched the candle flames flickering.

  He shook his head. “This time you have more power, but you still don’t have any training in the arts, which makes you vulnerable, but I’m hoping for a spirit to show up that you can control.” He lifted the medallion over his head and handed it to me. “Take this.”

  I reached out and took the medallion from him. The metal felt cool against my skin. I looked down at the etching--my fingers traced the outline of the phoenix.

  “It’ll help you focus your abilities. Hold it tight in one hand, and put your other hand on the planchette.”

  I grasped the medallion and reached out and gently put my fingertips on the pointer.

  “Okay. This time close your eyes.” He instructed. “I need you to focus your thoughts on the room. Only think of this room and what you can feel within it.”

  I closed my eyes, but this time I didn’t feel freaked out. There was no fear racing through me--instead I felt a deep calmness settle within me.

  “That’s it,” Luke said in a soft voice. “Focus on the room. See the walls of the room in your mind.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to imagine the room and as I did I felt the familiar sensation of something rushing toward me.

  “There’s a spirit here,” I whispered.

  “Ask for a name.”

  “Who are you?” I spoke out, and the pointer started to slide. I opened my eyes and followed its journey across the board.

  It stopped on T, then slid to the letters H, O, M and A. It finally came to rest on the letter S.

  Thomas. The boy I’d felt the other day in the kitchen. I looked over at Luke. “It’s Thomas.”

  Luke looked pleased. “Good, Good. Now I want you to reach out to Thomas, with your mind and your spirit.”

  A cold breeze blew across my face--I tilted my head as a tail end of a whisper floated across my ears. I concentrated harder and started to make out words within the raspy whisper. “I can hear him, he’s close by, he’s talking to me.”

  Luke put up his hand. “This time Colina, I need you to do more than just listen to Thomas. I need you to focus your thoughts toward him--reach out to him.” He stopped as if he was trying to find the words. A few second passed and then he continued. “I need you to imagine the very core of your being moving forward, making contact…think about that part of you where your power resides, the center of your being reaching out toward Thomas.”

  I tried to do what Luke asked. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but I tried to focus all my thoughts, my whole being on Thomas. At first nothing happened. I could hear the sound of my own heart beating in my ears. A breeze rustled the drapes in the living room. I had closed all of the windows, it was Thomas--he was here, I was sure of it. I could hear his small voice chattering in the distance. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but he was talking to me.

  I thought of Anna in the hospital. I had seen her spirit standing by the bed. Clear as day, I had made out the silver thread of life reaching from her sick and weakened body, to her other self.

  I tried to imagine Thomas, but I had no idea what he looked like--there was no photo to go on. Before when I saw him in the kitchen he had been a ghostly outline of a boy. There hadn’t been any distinct shapes or characteristics on his face, not any I could truly recognize. I closed my eyes again. Thomas what do you look like? As the thought flew across my mind, an image started to glitter in the dark. It was the face of a boy. Suspenders hung from slight shoulders and a brown cap sat tilted at an angle upon his brown ruffled hair. It was the style of clothing that I’d only seen in movies. Historical movies.

  There was a loud bang and my eyes popped open in surprise. One of the candles had fallen off the table and dropped to the floor. Luke quickly got up from his chair and extinguished the candle flame. An open candle on a wood floor, a dangerous combination. And suddenly I knew--it hadn’t been a sickness that had taken the boy's life. Luke was wrong. Thomas had died in a fire. I saw the flames flickering around the room, climbing up the walls, rushing across the ceiling. The smell of smoke was so strong I raised my hand over my nose and mouth. I looked over at Luke, didn’t he see what I was seeing? I blinked, and the flames were gone. But I knew I hadn’t imagined them. There had been a terrible fire here. Not here, in this house, but in a house that had sat on this very spot a century ago. Thomas’s home. And Thomas’s image was no longer just in my mind, he was now standing only a few feet from me. His body was translucent. I could make out the furniture behind him. He looked at me with a questioning expression. I didn’t feel any fear, more a strong sense of curiosity. How long had the boy been bound to this place? Was he destined to roam the in between forever?

  Thomas began to sway, first to one side and then the other. The image of him flickered in and out in the candlelight and then before I knew what was happening Thomas rushed forward. I instinctively raised my hands as if to defend myself as I felt his spirit crowding in on me.

  Luke shouted, “Force the spirit back! You’re strong now. You have the power!”

  I tried to do what Luke said--I tried to will Thomas spirit back. I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead as I strained to stay in control.

  Luke was by my side, his hand on my shoulder. “That’s it. Push him back. You’re stronger than he is.” Luke’s grip tightened. “Now focus all your energy on Thomas again and quickly repeat these words--Constringo Constrixi Constrictum.”

  I spoke the words out, and a loud screech filled the air.

  Luke’s fingers dug into my flesh. “Concent
rate! Say the words again!”

  I spoke them louder this time, and the screeching intensified.

  Thomas spirit swirled around me. Goose bumps rose on my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The ungodly screeching was still going on, but now I could hear Thomas voice in my head, he was shouting out, he was in pain. Whatever I was doing was causing him pain.

  “Say the words again,” Luke demanded.

  I shook my head. I tried to move back in my chair, but Luke’s hand moved from my shoulder and came down hard on my arm. “You can’t stop now. You have to bind Thomas to you!”

  What was I doing? Thomas’s screams intensified. Things started falling from the nearby shelf as if someone was tossing items randomly across the room. One of the bowls on the table suddenly flew and slammed into the nearby wall. A stereo in the corner turned on and off and then on again, and this time when it came back on the volume increased. Loud music now filled the room. The screeching, Thomas’s cries of pain, the music booming, vibrating through the air--it was all too much. I shook off Luke’s hand and came to my feet. I had to stop this madness.

  Luke rounded up on me, his expression one of anger. “You can’t stop now. You’re almost there,” his voice raised above the music. “You have to trust me, you’re a death dealer. This is the only way for you to truly wield your power. Do you want to avenge your family’s death? Colina, this is the only way.”

  Everything I had been through, all of it would be for nothing if I didn’t do this. Without the banshee power, I’d be useless by Luke’s side as he went in to save his sister. When the men came after me again, and I knew that it was just a matter of time until they did, I would be helpless. My only option would be to run again. I was tired of running. This power Luke was offering me was the sole reason I’d showed up at his doorstep. It would mean I’d finally be able to stand and fight. I’d be able to defend myself. I’d have a chance to live, and hopefully one day, see the men who hurt my family pay for what they did. I didn’t want to do it, but I had no choice, I shouted out the words again. All the sound stopped. A bright light appeared.