by Lyla Oweds
Before I could stop myself, I was on my feet, my finger pointed at Bryce. “We can’t do that.”
“You need to think about yourself.” Bryce also stood, but I was too angry to be intimidated. “It’ll be you targeted, not them. And even though they’ll be distracted, the elders will learn about you. Is that something you want?”
The boys remained seated on the floor. Silent throughout this confrontation, but watching with carefully concealed expressions. Instead of being offended, I was grateful for their ability to stand down. To be honest, this was between me and Bryce.
“We’re helping Lily,” I growled out the words.
“I forbid it.” Bryce stepped closer. There was a movement from the ground beside me, but it stopped just as quickly. Bryce didn’t seem to notice. “And besides that, this idiotic plan to deal with the council is too risky. They have no real plan to explain your presence, so they are biding time.”
“Of course they have a plan!” I argued. “Damen always has a plan!”
“Your bias is showing.” Bryce rolled his eyes. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’re a medium, which means you answer to me. Not Damen, nor anyone else here. So, that being said, you’re abandoning this mission now. Go back to your dorm.”
The room went cold, but the feeling paled in comparison to the solid feeling that settled in my stomach. There was a foot between us, and our gazed locked in a similar manner to the time we’d met. It was as if was daring me to look away first—or that he hoped I would.
I wouldn’t let him win. Lily was depending on me. So, while it took every ounce of my bravery to meet his challenge, my response was firm. “No. We’re staying here.”
Bryce remained silent for a moment longer. The tension was thick between us, and a trickle of sweat moved down my back. I was beginning to feel dizzy now, but I couldn’t give in.
It took only a moment, but felt like forever, before Bryce’s posture deflated and he glanced away. “Whatever…”
Brayden was the one who broke the following silence. “That,” he said, almost reverently, “was awesome.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. I was so tired suddenly. The world swayed, but I was caught before I hit the ground.
“Woah,” Titus breathed into my ear as he gathered me into his lap. “You did good.”
I did? My vision was a haze of shapes and colors, the only feeling was Titus’s solid form under mine.
“It was too much,” Titus said, speaking to someone. And then Julian’s hands were on my face.
His touch was a warm caress against my skin, and his voice seemed to flow into me. “It’s all right now, Bianca. You won.”
I won? I couldn’t imagine what I’d won. But as the cloud began to clear, recollection hit.
Bryce!
My eyes, which had drifted shut at some point, snapped open. Julian’s face swam in my vision, his blue eyes soft and warm. “Good job.”
Titus grinned down at me, and Damen pet my arm. But it was Bryce that my vision sought.
He was sitting crossed-legged on the floor now beside Brayden. And, if my eyes weren’t deceiving me, he actually appeared to be pouting.
“Well, that was fun!” Brayden, a happy contrast to his brother, smacked Bryce on the back. “I did warn you not to fight. Now stop sulking.”
Bryce’s frown deepened, and after a minute his attention shot to Damen. “That being said, are we allowed to discuss the obvious now?”
“Not yet,” Damen responded. “Let’s finish things here first, and then we can open that can of worms.”
Titus had shifted me until my back was to his chest. Julian still held my hand, lending me his silent strength. I didn’t have any doubts that Julian had done something to cause my exhaustion to flee.
“Consider this a trial,” Julian added to Damen’s statement, “to determine how well we can work together. And to see if you three can… get along. First, though, it’s time for me to do my reading.” He turned to the small pile, resignation thick in his voice.
“Why can’t Lily just tell us what happened?” I asked, not liking Julian’s hesitation. It felt as though I was forcing him into this. Besides, what if there was something that ghost Lily didn’t want to share? This felt invasive.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to ask her?” I nodded toward Bryce and Brayden. “I’m not the only one here. Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable with more of us?”
Brayden tilted his head, watching me. “She can’t tell you how she died.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Because it might be traumatizing?”
“That’s a thought,” Brayden said. “But not the actual reason. Spirits literally cannot disclose how they died. Not until the medium comes close to the truth on their own first.”
“Why not?” I repeated.
It was Bryce who responded. “It’s a rule.” He leaned forward, some of the passion returning to his eyes. “Spirits are allowed to lead us to the answers. And they can confirm or deny what we say. But they can’t actually tell us anything directly.”
I tapped my chin, trying to recall my limited experience. Mr. Weaver had appeared in his yard, and I’d told him he’d died. Then…
“One of the first things Mr. Weaver told me was to go into his kitchen,” I realized. “He was talking about dinner, and made fun of my tastes. Then he called me an untrained novice.”
Bryce and Brayden glanced at each other.
“Caleb was poisoned.” Damen touched his glasses again, looking to me. “You didn’t tell me he said that.”
I blushed. “I didn’t know it was relevant. But now that I think about it, he didn’t mention being poisoned until it was brought up first. I thought he was just sexist.”
“You’re not wrong,” Bryce responded slowly. “Uncle Caleb was that too.”
“Now that he’s been mentioned, there’s something that bothers me,” Brayden interjected, his tone offended. “It’s been days. Why hasn’t he come to one of us? Why Bianca?”
“Probably because she was the closest,” Bryce answered immediately. “Perhaps he didn’t want to leave his home yet. Or maybe he’s taken a liking to her. You know how he could get.”
Brayden scoffed. “Sure.”
“He’s been following Michelle Nolan around,” I pointed out. “I’m sure he’s just been busy.”
Bryce and Brayden shot me cynical looks.
“In any case,” Damen said, and once our attention returned to him, he nodded toward Julian.
Julian opened his mouth, but Miles came into the room. He was still shirtless and he carried a copper cup. An item that he handed directly to Julian.
Julian accepted the item, eyeing it distastefully while Miles rubbed his hands together, addressing the rest of us. “Outside of creating wards, my magic is almost useless here. However, that’s all we need. The spirits here won’t want to be captured, I don’t think. So when the time comes, I will drop these shields to allow them entrance. After they get here, I’ll put them back up.”
“Oh goodie,” Brayden clapped. “You’re going to trap the vengeful ghosts in this small room with us. I’m so excited.”
“Not both together,” Miles responded, shivering slightly. “At least, I’ll try not to.”
“We don’t want either escaping before the ritual is completed.” Damen must have noticed my confused glance. “Before the exorcism binds a spirit into place, they can still leave. Which means we’d have to start over. Proximity is necessary for the effectiveness of an exorcism.”
“Who does an exorcism?” No one had mentioned this yet. “Not the medium?”
“I do it,” Damen replied. “Exorcisms can only be performed by onmyoji. We’re bypassing the medium entirely.”
“But you can’t see ghosts,” I said. “How do you know they are in the room? Does Kasai help?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Bryce interrupted. “When a medium summons a spirit, like for rituals, for example, everyone can see them for a short period of time.
Shikigami play a part in exorcisms, but not until the end.”
My mouth popped open, and I looked at Damen, accusingly. He’d known I’d been trying to talk to Lily for days, and had never said a word.
“It’s not a conspiracy.” Damen’s mouth turned up as he touched my nose. “It takes a lot of power to call a spirit to you. Or send them away. Remember what happened when you tried that maneuver on Caleb? It will come to you when you’re ready.”
“When…” I began, but then recalled throwing up at Damen’s feet. “Oh…”
“You tried to order him around, and he’s still sticking by you?” Brayden said incredulously. “You’re his new favorite! He’s so weird.”
I glanced at him. “Why?”
This didn’t bode well. I didn’t want Mr. Weaver to like me. I wanted him to move on so I didn’t have to hear his ranting anymore.
“Because it showed him how strong you are, even attempting it,” Bryce replied dryly. “For future reference, it’s an extremely rude thing to do to a spirit who isn’t harming anyone.”
As we’d spoken, Julian had moved to Lily’s remains and arranged the bones into a rough replication of what they once were.
Not every bone was out, of course, that would have taken hours to rebuild. Smaller fragments of hands and feet were in piles at those spots. However, the larger pieces—legs, arms, pelvis, and skull—rested in their correct locations.
“I’m ready.” Julian rolled up his sleeves. His gaze met mine briefly, and he explained, “Having things laid out this way makes it easier to feel the most relevant memory.” He had picked up the cup again and drank the contents with an expression of disgust.
Miles moved around the circle, lighting some of the candles as he moved. A musky scent began to fill the room, and a silent minute passed as the atmosphere began to grow somber. Once finished, Miles turned off the lights, casting the space into pale darkness. And I fought my chill as he returned and sat on Julian’s other side.
Julian didn’t seem to notice the change in the air. Instead, he continued speaking. “Necromancy is not the practice of actually bringing the dead back to life.” He eyed the remains as he spoke. “Life requires both the body and the soul. A necromancer can raise a body, technically, but only that. In cases like this, reanimation without connective tissue and muscular tone is impossible. But…”
I wasn’t sure what was in that drink, but his expression was off—disconnected. He inched forward on his knees, waving his left hand over the sternum. “A necromancer can also read the impressions left behind. The memories that become part of your DNA. That is why necromancers are used for information retrieval.”
His eyes were distant, the blue had deepened to an almost black. My chest constricted in worry. “Julian?”
Titus ran his hand down my arm. “Let him concentrate.”
I was about to protest, when snake-like movements in the center of the circle captured my attention. Threads of shadow twisted, creeping over the bones. At first, I wasn’t sure what the shadows were. The darkness had made it difficult to discern.
Then I saw it, the line of fluid running down Julian’s forearm. Blood. And the knife that Damen had been sharpening held tightly in Julian’s other hand.
The blood gathered to a point near his wrist, where I could no longer see. But the small trickle of liquid fell from his outstretched palm onto the remains.
However, what was most disconcerting was the tiny print visible in the crease of his left arm. I’d never seen Julian’s arms before, so I’d never noticed. The mark on his arm was similar to my own…
“Hey…” I pressed against Titus, but he shushed me.
“Huanxing,” Julian whispered the command. The air in the room stilled. The candlelight, which had been a soft orange glow, darkened until a blue color covered the area.
The strange lights faded as my attention was captured by the growing shadow rising from Lily’s remains. It grew in size until, after a moment, it vanished suddenly as if a gust of wind had blown it away.
But there was no wind here.
A second later a figure, a kneeling girl, crouched in the center of the circle.
Usually, spirits I’d seen resembled their living counterparts. The difference between their forms were their ability to move through objects, or float in air. Their presence radiated a coldness that living people did not. And there was the matter of being able to see through them.
But this girl was different. I couldn’t feel her like a spirit. Yet she was a solid presence in the room. Even those who couldn’t see spirits were watching her.
This wasn’t a ghost. But it was still Lily.
“It’s a memory,” Titus breathed in my ear, causing a shiver to shoot down my spine. “A weak one, but still…”
Lily was solid, covered in shallow cuts and bruises. Her eyes didn’t seem to take in any of us. Instead, they were wild, terrified. An expression of someone on the verge of death. But what were most concerning were the lethal looking wounds on her neck. And the gaping hole in her chest.
If she was a memory, then we were witnessing Lily moments before her death.
“Fucong.” Julian’s voice was far away. But Lily’s focus snapped to him. “What is your name?” he asked.
There was a second of silence before Lily’s monotone voice drifted through the room. “Lily Simmons.”
“What were you doing here?” Julian questioned again, his tone still commanding.
Lily remained unblinking, staring at him. “I was visiting my sister.”
“Who is your sister?” he asked.
With the same voice, she replied. “Eleanor Cole.”
Julian paused a moment, the mark on his arm growing darker as sweat beaded down his face. But when he continued, it was as if he was under no strain at all. “Why are you here?”
Lily paused, her blank eyes widening slightly. A vibration tinged through the air, and Lily blinked. An instant later, her form exploded into smoke, rushing toward Julian.
The sight was so alarming that I didn’t even think. Fear for Julian’s safety my first priority. One second, I was on Titus’s lap, and the next, I’d grabbed Julian’s arm—intent on pulling him from harm.
But before his shocked eyes could do more than meet mine, the darkness slammed into us.
Chapter Twenty
Bianca
Memory
The grass was soft under my bare feet, but I hardly had time to process the feeling before I was pulled to a hard body.
“What are you doing?” Julian asked, his eyes looking me over as his hands brushed down my arms. “It’s not safe for you to be here.”
Here? I no idea where ‘here’ was. I glanced around the clearing, waiting for my thoughts to catch up.
Lily. Julian’s ritual. The strange shadow.
“Where are we? What happened to…” I had a thousand questions, but my words trailed off as I spotted them.
Two girls, around my age. They were eating a picnic lunch only feet from us. How I’d missed them, I wasn’t sure. But it was like they hadn’t even been there a moment ago. Even so, it was Lily. And she was with another girl, a curly-haired brunette.
Both were dressed in the fashions of the past, wearing lace dresses and flowers in their hair. And both unaware of our presence. The only thing they seemed to notice were the sounds and atmosphere of the bright meadow where we now stood.
I started toward them, but Julian’s grip on my arm made me pause.
“They can’t see you,” he whispered, pulling me back into his chest. “This is a memory.”
Even though blood stained his dark skin, he’d stopped bleeding. But the mark on his arm, now close to my face, tugged my attention away from the scene. A dark, murky blue swirled like liquid in his skin, coloring the symbol.
Instead of grossing me out, it fascinated me. My own mark lurched in response. A warm sensation in contrast to the cold radiating from Julian’s own.
“Eleanor.” Lily leaned across
the blanket, her voice recapturing my attention. She held an apple in front of her as she watched the other girl. “Are you listening to me?”
Eleanor didn’t respond. Instead, she continued to look out into the distance. While she smiled softly, her expression was empty. Her eyes reminded me of Mrs. Cole’s.
If the concern on Lily’s face was any indication, she’d noticed her sister’s distance too. “I’ve heard arsenic is effective. We could try that.”
“That’s nice,” Eleanor replied, her expression unchanged.
Lily didn’t seem deterred. “And once that takes effect, I’ll help you bury his body in the cellar.” She paused, waiting. But once Eleanor didn’t respond, she continued onward, dramatically. “But we’d probably have to chop him into pieces first.”
“That’s…” Eleanor began, but then blinked, awareness seeping into her expression. “Lily!” Her head snapped to her sister. “How could you joke about such things? What sort of books has mother been allowing you to read?”
Lily put down the apple and the playfulness drained from her face. “Does he beat you?”
Eleanor’s jerked back, as if struck. “Lily…”
“Answer me,” Lily pressed. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Eleanor’s expression closed, and she looked past her sister. “It’s not him. He’s strange, I admit. There’s something not quite right in his thinking. But he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Then who is it?” Lily raised her eyebrow.
But it was obvious that Eleanor wasn’t going to answer.
Lily sighed, her anger dissipating as helplessness colored her tone. “Would you like to keep Snowball for a while?”
Eleanor’s jaw hardened. “No, keep your shikigami away. They don’t realize our family… It would be best not to bring it to their awareness.”
“Eleanor?” Lily sat up. “What are you talking about? Would it be so terrible if your husband knew what we could do? You just said he wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Yes, he wouldn’t. But I would prefer that they not know.” Eleanor got to her feet, brushing off her skirt. “I’m sorry. I feel ill. Don’t worry, everything is fine. Keep your head down, and everything will be normal again within a few months.”
