by E. E. Holmes
Elizabeth Ballard knelt sobbing uncontrollably within a Summoning Circle drawn upon the stone top of a sunken mausoleum, a piece of chalk still clutched in her hand. Inside the Circle with her, a pale wraith of a spirit in trailing white garments was clutching at her own long hair, throwing back her head, and keening toward the sky. The wails were not coming from her mouth, though—they were coming from Elizabeth’s.
A single, stunned moment to absorb what I was seeing, and then my Caomhnóir instincts kicked in. Neutralize the threat. I leapt into assessment mode. The spirit was within the boundaries of the Summoning Circle; that meant that the girl had invited it in—or else mis-Cast the Circle. I dismissed this possibility— in the first place, the Circle looked, upon cursory inspection, to be correct, and in the second place, hadn’t I just verified her Casting competency in the courtyard? The spirit, therefore, needed to be Expelled. I wasted no time.
A whispered incantation, a centering of my mental acuity, and a powerful thrust of my arms, and the spirit was thrown backward out the Circle with such force that it blurred out of sight beyond the far boundary of the graveyard.
The heart-wrenching cries faded at once into silent sobs. Elizabeth keeled over onto her side, curling herself into a fetal position, and I raced forward, breaking the boundary of the Circle as I did so. I placed a tentative hand upon her shoulder, and when I spoke to her, I found my voice cracked and weak with fear.
“El— Miss Ballard… are you alright? Are you hurt?” I asked.
Though she continued to sob, she shook her head and brushed my hand away with surprising force. Having satisfied myself that she was at least uninjured, I stepped hastily back out of the Circle and waited for her to recover. After what felt like an eternity, she fell silent and pushed herself up onto one elbow and then, shakily, to a seated position. When she turned her gaze on me, I was taken-aback to see how fierce it was.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, her voice hoarse but stern.
I blinked. “I’m… I’m sorry?”
“I said, you shouldn’t have done that. I was handling it just fine on my own.”
I very nearly let out an incredulous laugh in my shock, but managed to check the impulse. “You’ll forgive me, but that was not my assessment of the situation. I acted accordingly.”
“You acted without asking me,” she replied.
“Pardon?”
“You didn’t ask me if I needed or wanted your help.”
“I confess I thought you incapable of answering such a question,” I replied, trying to remain calm even as my frustration rose. What had she expected me to do, allow her to keep making those awful sounds? Stood by and done nothing?
“You could at least have given me the chance to try,” she said, picking up a black Casting bag that had been lying on the tomb beside her and pulling it open.
“Fair enough,” I said, though if truth be told, I was humoring her. “May I be so bold as to ask what you’re doing here when you ought to be in class? Your sister has been scouring the grounds for you. How did you come to be in this… situation?”
Her lips twitched at the word, as though she knew perfectly well that I would much rather have called it something much more dire. “I’m sorry to have stormed out of class like that, but I just couldn’t work with Liam Shea anymore today.”
“I see. But then how did you…” I let the sentence trail away, gesturing at the Summoning Circle.
“Liam’s behavior made me realize I need to be able to look out for myself. I’m an Empath, you see, and a very sensitive one at that. Spirit emotions affect me dramatically, and it leaves me particularly vulnerable.”
I knew this already, having been keeping careful tabs on her abilities at Calista’s insistence, but I did not inform her of this. Instead, I replied, “All the more reason, if you’ll forgive me, not to attempt Summonings alone,” I replied.
“Besides being an instructor, you’re Finvarra’s Caomhnóir, aren’t you?” she asked, looking me squarely in the eye.
“Yes.”
“And where is she right now?”
The question pulled me up short.
“In the castle, working in her study,” I replied, wondering, as I did so, what bearing Finvarra’s whereabouts could possibly have on the conversation at hand.
“And what happens if she’s attacked while you’re down here on the grounds?” Elizabeth asked, crossing her arms.
“Attacked? In her own study?” I asked, unable, this time, to repress an incredulous chuckle.
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied in a very serious voice that caused the laugh to die in my throat. “What if, somehow, a spirit managed to attack her within her own walls?”
“The space is Warded. There’s no way that…”
“No possible way? Are you absolutely sure of that?”
I hesitated, my mind reeling at the thought.
“You assume she’s safe. She assumes she’s safe. So, you part ways, temporarily. But what happens if, while you are apart, something were to happen to her? What would she do?”
I felt heat rising in my face. Was this girl suggesting I could not do my own job? “She… in such an unlikely eventuality, is very capable of implementing any number of Castings that might keep her safe.”
“Exactly. She’s prepared. I’m sure she knows all kinds of skills you would never teach to a lowly Apprentice like me. You are, however, teaching them to the Novitiates.”
I hesitated. It was true that the early Novitiate training had a heavy emphasis on defensive and protective skills, while the Apprentices were focused much more upon communication and the nuts and bolts of conducting Crossings. I nodded.
“Well, I’m sorry, but I think that forcing us to rely on a near-stranger, and an inexperienced one at that, as our sole source of protection is short-sighted and limiting, and never has that been more apparent to me than in the courtyard today,” she announced, trying to stand up. Her legs trembled violently and she collapsed onto her knees again. I started forward automatically, offering an outstretched hand, but was met with such a ferocious glare that I withdrew it at once.
“Did anyone bother to examine our Circle after I left?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “In fact, I examined it personally.”
“And?” she asked, an almost triumphant note in her voice, because she knew exactly what I would have found.
“And you were correct. Liam mistimed an Expulsion and compromised your Circle. But surely you do not expect perfection from a Novitiate? After all, you are both learning.”
“Of course, I don’t expect perfection. But I do expect honesty.”
“I do not wish to make excuses for Liam, but admitting a serious error in front of a courtyard full of people is not an easy thing to do, especially when you haven’t gotten to know any of those people yet. Liam may be a near-stranger now, but in time, as you work together, that will change,” I said.
“Work together?” Elizabeth scoffed. “When have we ever worked together?”
This pulled me up short. “In your classes. In your practicums. I’ve seen it for myself, you’ve had many opportunities already to—”
“I’m not sure what definition of ‘together’ you’re using, but we couldn’t be more separate. I mean, for heaven’s sake, you’ve drawn a line down the middle of our classrooms and forbidden us to cross them. We’ve been conditioned to mistrust each other, and many of the Caomhnóir are so terrified of overstepping their boundaries, they will barely deign to speak to us. You could cut the mutual disdain in the air with a knife. What kind of way is that to build trust?”
I ought to have had a real smashing answer to that question. The Code of Conduct, after all, was the set of rules by which I’d lived my entire adult life. And yet, when I opened my mouth to reply, the answer was nowhere to be found.
“I’m not trying to devalue what you do,” Elizabeth said, perhaps mistaking my silence for offense. “Believe me, that’s not my intention.
I know how crucial the Brotherhood is to our safety and security. But I have no interest in being a sitting duck every time my Caomhnóir is not within a few feet of me,” Elizabeth continued, stretching her legs out in front of her and massaging them vigorously. “I’ve dealt all my life with the sudden onslaught of spirit emotions, and have always had to rely on someone or something else to help me deal with it. My mother, who allows not even the smallest aspect of my life out of her control, has always seen to it that I was sheltered in this way.”
“I’m sure she was only trying to protect you,” I offered, finding my voice at last.
Elizabeth scoffed. “Oh, you’re sure, are you? What she’s done is left me without the skills I need to protect myself. She has always relied happily on Caomhnóir to do the job. I, however, have no intention of placing my safety solely in the hands of another person who must shadow me every waking moment of my life. I am more than capable of learning to Expel a spirit, and since no one will teach me how to do it, I intend to teach myself.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “You’re… you’re teaching yourself how to Expel spirits?”
“Yes. Or rather, I was, before you rendered my practice quite unnecessary,” she replied, trying her legs again. This time, she was quite steady. I must have looked rather indignant, for her expression softened when she looked at me again. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t at all the right thing to say. I am grateful to you for the help. You had no way of knowing what I was doing, and to be honest, I wasn’t entirely in control of the situation.”
I could see this was all the concession she was going to make, and I allowed it to pass with a nod of my head. “You are most welcome. And I suppose I was hasty. I ought to have… consulted you before jumping in.”
She raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised at this concession of my own. “Your apology is entirely unnecessary but greatly appreciated, and I accept it,” she said. “Now, would you indulge a professional question?”
I hesitated, but after a moment, gave a cautious nod. “Very well.”
“How would you have graded me, if I was your student?”
I hesitated again. “Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“Abysmal. Bottom marks.”
And that was the second time I heard the laugh, that jubilant song, soaring like a bird over the graveyard, breaking into a joyous chorus of echoes in the grove behind us. “Well, I asked for honesty, so that serves me right, I guess,” she said, still chuckling as she replied. “What could I… I mean, could you tell what I was doing wrong?”
Again, I hesitated. This wasn’t territory I had ever navigated before. My interaction with Apprentices had been transitory at best, and I had certainly never attempted to teach one before, let alone a Casting that was not considered part of her curriculum. Exactly how many rules was I breaking here?
“I’m sorry,” she said, sensing my hesitancy. “That’s not your job, is it? I guess, I’ll just…”
“The Summoning Circle was well Cast,” I said, blurting it out before I’d really decided whether to answer or not. “I could sense the boundaries of it, and they were strong. You’ve definitely mastered that part of it.”
“Okay,” she said, with an encouraging smile that caused my heart rate to speed up.
“The issue for you, I imagine, is the summoning of mental clarity required to Expel. Not that I’m casting aspersions on your intelligence or focus,” I added, seeing her expression cloud over. “It’s simply that another spirit’s emotions have invaded you, and it’s clear that they affect you powerfully. It will be a challenge to clear them for long enough to complete the Expulsion.”
She nodded, looking thoughtful. “Yes, that’s true. The emotions can be overwhelming, especially when they blindside me. You probably noticed that was a particularly tortured spirit I had in here with me.”
“I did indeed notice,” I agreed solemnly. “But, I suppose, the more powerful the emotions, the more important it is for you to be able to Expel them.”
She smiled again. “Precisely. So. Any tips?”
I considered this. Expulsions were second nature to me now. It had been a long time since I’d really thought about the internal process. “Well, I imagine a box.”
Her eyebrows arched in confusion. “A box?”
“Yes. One of my elder brothers suggested the analogy to me once, and it has always stuck with me. I imagine a box—like a big, empty trunk—inside my head. When I have to focus on the Expulsion, I imagine gathering every stray thought in my head and shoving them, all together, into the box. Then I slam the lid on them.”
“And that works?” She sounded skeptical.
“You won’t find it in a Caomhnóir textbook,” I admitted, perhaps a bit sheepishly, “but it certainly worked for me. Other analogies might suit you better, of course. Just find a mental image that will allow you to thrust those new emotions aside.”
“Hmm.” Her brows pulled together and deep lines creased the space between them as she gave this careful consideration. “A rubber band,” she said at last.
“Sorry?”
“A rubber band,” she repeated, sounding more confident this time. “A rubber band that I could gather all the emotions against, and then pull it back and let it go.”
I smiled as the image clarified itself in my mind. “Ah, I see. Rather like a mental slingshot.”
She grinned broadly. “Yes, exactly! A slingshot! I think it would be more effective for me, imagining the emotions flung as far from me as possible, as opposed to being bottled up inside me.”
“Well, there you are, then,” I said, returning the smile. “So, once you’ve settled on the image, you must use it to clear your mind. Play it out, like a film, and clear the mental space you need to do the work. It will take some practice, but…” I cut myself off before I completed the thought out loud.
But I’ve no doubt a woman of your strength and spirit can do anything she sets her mind to.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll definitely try that next time.”
“Would… would it be too much to ask that you carry out this… training… with your Caomhnóir around? Just in case it goes poorly?”
Elizabeth raised one of her eyebrows skeptically. “Let me ask you something. Do you honestly think Liam—or any Novitiate, really—would dare stand by and allow an Apprentice to subject herself to such an exercise on his watch?”
I wanted to offer a different answer, but I could not. “No. He would be too afraid of being reprimanded. And, truth be told, I’d probably be the one doing the reprimanding.”
“You see my predicament, then,” Elizabeth said with a shrug.
“What about enlisting the help of a spirit?” I asked, the idea coming to me out of the blue.
“A spirit?” Elizabeth repeated, looking skeptical.
“Yes! Find a spirit willing to assist by offering himself up as the target for an Expulsion.”
Elizabeth frowned. “What spirit would possibly want to do something like that?”
I gestured broadly to the grounds. “Fairhaven is full of spirits who remain here out of loyalty to the Durupinen. I am quite sure you would have no trouble at all finding a willing volunteer.”
Elizabeth considered this. “Huh. That wouldn’t do me much good for when a spirit ambushes me.”
“That may be true, but you could at least get some practice doing Expulsions first, without worrying that emotions will overwhelm you.”
Elizabeth looked extremely skeptical, so I went on. “Look, the way I see it, you’ve got two challenges here. The first is learning to Expel a spirit. The second is learning how to Expel a spirit when in the grips of an Empath-related emotional take-over. It seems to me that you ought to learn how to deal with the one, before you attempt to tackle the other. A volunteer spirit could help with that.”
Elizabeth looked thoughtful. “Yes,” she said, much more to herself than to me, it seemed. “Yes, perhaps I am going about this in the w
rong order. Although, eventually, I am going to have to try expelling a spirit whose emotions have overwhelmed me.”
“By that point, you may have developed enough of a relationship with your Caomhnóir that the two of you can—”
“A relationship with Liam Shea? With a person who, in three months of training, has yet to look me in the eye or address me by my actual name? A person who would lie and risk my safety rather than allow himself to look bad in front of his classmates by admitting to and correcting a simple error? I find that suggestion bordering on ludicrous.”
“Very well then, perhaps… perhaps I could help you.” The words were out of my mouth before I’d even thought them consciously and I couldn’t take them back. They hung there in the air between us, surprising us both as we acknowledged them.
Elizabeth stared at me, eyes wide. “You? Help me to Expel a spirit?”
I hesitated, wanting to smack myself for being so forward. What the devil was I doing? But even as I reprimanded myself, I plunged on recklessly, having, it seemed, completely lost control of my own mouth. “Well… that is to say… you are a student. I am an instructor. It’s true that your training does not strictly fall under my jurisdiction, but I see no reason I could not oversee your extra-curricular Casting practice, if you truly believe Caomhnóir Shea unequal to the task.”
Elizabeth’s face broke into a smile so bright, so genuinely full of gratitude, that I felt my breath catch in my throat. “Thank you so much, Carrick! I really appreciate the offer.” She quickly composed her face. “I mean, I’m not saying I’ll definitely need help. Because I really do think I can do this on my own. But I’ll take your advice about the slingshot thing, and if I need help… well, I may just take you up on your kind offer.”
