Wade nods feverishly. “I know. I get it.”
“I’m glad someone does, because this conversation is cryptic at best,” Dom mutters under his breath. “Even for me.”
“Fine,” he nods.
Wade exhales slowly, letting his shoulders drop. “Thank you.”
“Which cemeteries have been desecrated by this magic?” His dad asks, flashing his eyes to me again.
“Windhaven and Mistwood Point. They’ll—”
Before Wade can get any other words out, his dad opens the smokey black portal and turns to walk through it. However, he stops, turning back to us. “You’ll need this, necromancer.”
From what appeared to be an empty hand, he flicks his wrist like he’s throwing a frisbee—but what extends from his grasp is more like a bright yellow cord of light. It winds its way around grandpa’s revenant, binding him around the midsection. The other end bonds itself to my midsection in much the same way.
“What is this?” I say, raising my arms in surprise.
“A guarantee. You’re bound together now. Until put to rest, you can’t lose him. That’s not a problem, is it?” he says, raising a single, sardonic eyebrow.
“N-no…but how do I get rid of it?” I ask, poking the energetic rope with my pointer finger. The energy of it feels like swiping your finger through a running kitchen tap. And just like the water, it remains intact even as my finger moves through it.
“You won’t have to. As soon as his body is released, so will the cord.” With that, Wade’s dad walks straight into the black portal and vanishes as it condenses in on itself.
“Well, on the upside, it looks like whatever your dad did calmed it down,” Dominic says, raising his eyebrows to his hairline.
“All right, so what do we do to help?” Wade says, ignoring Dominic and turning to me.
I shake my head. “Other than helping to round up the other revenants, nothing beyond this point. I have to do this alone.”
“Are you sure we can’t—” Wade begins.
“I’m sure,” I nod.
“Well, I, for one, wouldn’t enter in there if someone paid me. It’s like whatever’s on the other side of that door doesn’t even exist,” Dominic says, shuddering.
“Go see Sheriff Gordon and find a way to round up the others. Bring them here,” I say, turning to the door. “I’m going to find Abigail and get started.”
Wade nods. “All right, we can do that.” He takes a few steps toward the entrance but stops and turns back to me. “Be careful. Please.” His eyes plead with me and my solar plexus constricts.
Holding his gaze, I place a hand on his cheek. “I will. Make sure you do the same. Okay?”
His lips press into a thin line, but he dips his chin.
“Text me when you’re back and I’ll come to collect them, but do not, under any circumstances, come inside. Either of you,” I say, eyeing them both.
Again, Wade nods. Turning to Dominic, he says, “Come on.”
Casting one quick glance as his grandpa’s still body, Wade walks out, back the way we came in.
“See ya around. Try not to be zombie food, okay?” Dominic says, slapping me on the shoulder as he walks out after Wade.
“They’re revenants,” I say, sticking a tongue out.
“Tomato, tomahto,” he says over his shoulder.
Grinning to myself, I shake my head and turn to face the door. Grandpa continues to hover beside me, as if in some sort of status, but for my own peace of mind, I don’t want to linger long.
“All right, Autumn, let’s figure this thing out…” I mutter to myself as I walk up to the wooden door.
As it turns out, the doorway isn’t as unusual as originally thought. Instead, it’s two halves to one whole, with enormous twin iron handles arching on either side of the door’s middle split. When Wade’s grandpa was in the way, he just blocked their view.
Taking a deep breath, I grab the right handle and pull. The door groans but doesn’t budge. Panic unfurls in my mind as I drop the handle and pull up short. However, the more I look at the door’s architecture, I realize how much of an idiot I am.
Putting the palms of my hands on the wood, I press hard, instead. This time, the wood creaks open, allowing a draft of cool air to scurry out. Beyond the entrance, the inner tunnel is as black as the portal Wade’s dad emerged from.
What if this isn’t the entrance to the catacombs? What if I get lost?
The thought interrupts my forward momentum, unleashing a torrent of panic. I have no idea what I’m doing…and no idea if I’m even in the right place. What if I’m wrong? What if everything I saw inside the catacombs wasn’t even real?
What if it is, but I’m not deemed worthy this time? Could I be lost in here forever?
Before I have more time to second-guess myself, torches, similar to the ones inside the resurrection chamber back in the house, begin to ignite along the tunnel walls. I can’t see anything beyond them, but a sudden urgency beckons me. A warm, calming sensation sweeps through my body and I can’t help but take a step forward.
I cross the threshold of the catacombs, entering the sacred space. The sensation is like stepping through a curtain of water and emerging on the other side. The energy brushes past my cheeks, tickling my senses, and heightening every ability. Whatever magic protects this space from Dominic’s abilities seems to have accepted me as one of its own.
The pathway to where I need to go emerges in my mind, like a holographic Google map only I can see. No longer scared about where to go or how to get there, I follow my instincts and the direction being unveiled for me.
The deeper we go, a strong fragrance of frankincense greets us. At first, it’s just a hint, but quickly overpowers any of the earthy scents trying to permeate the space. With each step forward, more torches ignite while others go out. Occasionally, there are paths that lead off from the main tunnel and sometimes torches even light up, as if tempting me to venture off from the path. However, my internal compass continues to guide me and I follow its calling, ignoring all others.
We walk for a good fifteen minutes, taking a number of turns. While I know I’m on the right path here beneath the ground, I’ve lost all direction to where my house is on the property. My only hope is that my experience with Abigail earlier won’t fail me.
As I take a final left turn, Wade’s grandpa and I leave the darkness of the tunnels and emerge into the large circular room I had seen in my vision. Walking into the space, Abigail awaits, hovering just off to the side with an expectant smile on her face. In the center of the room, the grimoire rests on the pedestal as if awaiting my summons.
“Abigail, it’s time. I need to know how to put the revenants to rest,” I say, looking over my shoulder at Wade’s grandpa, who has mimicked my halt.
She nods, eyeing Wade’s grandpa as she points to the grimoire. “The spell is not difficult, but it requires your utmost attention. You must bless the soulless and inter them so their bodies may finally be at rest. Should your attention slip, even but a little, it would be most dreadful.”
I walk over to the book with grandpa in tow. Looking over the open pages, the anxiety I felt before blossoms again inside my stomach. I still can’t read the pages…
“What do I need to do?” I ask.
“Are all of them within the catacombs?” Abigail asks, her eyebrows furrowing.
I shake my head. “No, not yet. We’re working on it. They’ll be here soon.”
Abigail’s expression cools, but she tips her head in acknowledgement. “Let us try on this one first. I will walk you through the words and help you with their saying. You shall find once the words are spoken out loud, they will become a part of you, making each interment easier.”
“That sounds good,” I say, letting my shoulders relax and my gaze fall back to the book.
“Sorry, but I can’t let you do that,” a woman’s voice hisses from the shadows.
Chapter 25
Fetch
My he
ad jerks up and my eyes search wildly for the source of the words. Without feeling the need to stay hidden, Cat slinks from the shadows, crossing her arms behind her back.
“Be cautious,” Abigail warns, moving closer to me.
I narrow my gaze, shaking my head. “How…?”
For some reason, my brain doesn’t seem to want to make sense of seeing her here. Alarm bells ring like they’re announcing Armageddon, but the best I can do is gawk at her.
A sly grin spreads across Cat’s lips, and she takes another step closer. “It is a bit miraculous, isn’t it? I never in a million years thought I’d find my way through this maze. Fate has a funny way of delivering, doesn’t it?”
Confusion swirls around inside my brain like a caged bird and I can’t help but wonder what in the world is going on. The last time I saw Cat, she was leaving with Colton. I highly doubt she’d leave his side unless—
My mouth drops open. “Was there an accident? Omg…you’re not…” I take a step toward her, my heart thudding haphazardly in my chest. I can’t bring myself to say the final word, just in case it could be true.
Abigail moves quickly, coming between me and Cat. “Guard the revenant,” she says as she passes me. “Be gone, foul thing. You are an unholy abomination and not welcome in this sacred space.”
“I’m hurt, truly,” Cat says, pressing her right hand to her heart and taking another measured step inside the room.
“Abigail,” I sputter, unable to make sense of anything going on here. “This is my friend—you helped me save her.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Abigail shakes her head. “This is but an echo of your friend, a remnant of her soul which needs to be reclaimed. Surely you can feel it?”
My eyes widen as I peer from her to Cat.
This isn’t Cat? The real Cat?
Suddenly, all of the odd exchanges I’ve had with her over the past few months come into focus. Things have felt off from time to time—but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Not to mention when Wade and I saw her on the side of the road…
“What is she?” I say, taking a step back and forcing Wade’s grandpa to shuffle behind me.
“A Fetch,” Abigail says, keeping her eyes trained ahead of her. Without looking behind her, she raises a finger and points to the grimoire. “It is of utmost importance that you continue your work. Quickly.”
“But I can’t read it—” I say, fumbling my way back to the book. “And what the hell is a Fetch?”
“See, this is a predicament we’re in here, ladies. An impasse, actually. I’ve been working very hard to destabilize things and I can’t have you putting it all back the way it was before,” Cat’s doppelgänger says, her voice painted with thinly veiled fury. “I want more.”
“The Fetch must have come into being at the time of Ms. Gilbert’s resurrection. It has been known to happen, though I know not why it would have done so for her,” Abigail says, refusing to divert her gaze from Cat. “I know not how, but I believe she is syphoning the power used to bring these revenants to life. It must be merged into the remainder of your friend’s soul, but this level of magic will take its toll.”
“Oh, no…there will be no merging; no resting. No releasing my pets. I have been buried in the shadows of that Goodie Two-shoes for far too long. I refuse to go back to the way things were. I have far too much to do,” Cat says, casually stepping forward, her hands still behind her back.
My pulse races and a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead.
She’s toying with us… But why? What is it she thinks she’ll get from us here?
Glancing down at the grimoire, the power and energy of it radiates into the palms of my hands. Centuries of magic have been imbued into these pages, and while I may not yet understand the contents, I don’t have to be told that having it fall into the wrong hands could be catastrophic. Why else would it be hidden here?
“What do you need me to do?” I say, flipping through the pages quickly.
Abigail shakes her head. “You do not yet possess the power to accomplish what needs to be done. It shall have to be me…”
Without waiting for Cat to make a move, Abigail raises her arms out wide, chanting something just under her breath. The torches on the walls flicker, and deep beneath our feet, the catacombs rumble with a power I’ve never experienced. It puts every cell in my body on notice, and I know Cat feels it, too. While she might not be corporeal, Abigail’s etheric energy is still a force to reckon with.
Cat screeches, bounding forward at Abigail, but stumbles as she goes straight through her ghostly body. I cry out in alarm, slamming the grimoire shut and pulling it to my chest to protect it. There is no way I’m letting the Fetch get ahold of this book. No matter how much she looks like my best friend.
“You know, your dead grandma isn’t as daft as she appears,” she says, picking herself up off the floor and dusting at her arms. “When I gave Colton the idea to raise the dead, I didn’t know it would lead me here so soon. As my plan took form, I thought for sure it would take ages to find out where the Blackwood grimoire was hidden.”
“You’re not going to get it,” I say, taking another step backward.
Abigail continues to summon whatever magic is needed, but so far it’s not enough to stop the Fetch’s advancements. She continues to walk toward me like a true cat stalking its prey.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Cat purrs. “We could work together in this. Imagine the ways we could bend the laws of life to our will.”
I look over at Wade’s grandpa; his ashen form continues to hover just off to my left, waiting in his strange stand-by mode for whatever his next mission will be. Why would anyone want to bend life and death to their own whim? Who would ever want that kind of burden?
Sometimes, the dead should stay that way.
“I don’t get it… the Gilbert family should have its own grimoire. Why not leech from that one? You come from a powerful family,” I say, trying to buy Abigail more time.
“True,” Cat nods. She keeps her gaze on me, evidently unfazed by whatever Abigail is doing, Instead, she puts her entire focus on making her way to me. “But their book is nowhere near as powerful as I need. They don’t possess any of the ancient secrets to life and death. That’s why you’re going to hand over yours.”
“Over my dead body,” I mutter through clenched teeth. Energy begins to radiate in the palms of my hands, making them burn where I clutch the ancient tome.
Cat’s doppelgänger smiles. “That can be arranged.”
“Do not listen to her. If she had such power, she would not be tormenting us so,” Abigail says, turning to face us. Her eyes have abandoned their soft-green color for a sheath of pure white.
The room begins to radiate—glowing with a white light that expands outward from the center of Abigail. Suddenly, it condenses to a beam that seeks out Cat like a spotlight hunting for a prisoner trying to escape.
When the light hits her, she drops to her knees, crying out in pain. The light consumes her, then bounces off, refracting though the ceiling as if seeking out another source. However, as quickly as it was lit, the light pulls back, practically knocking Abigail to the ground.
Cat’s screeches subside as the light peters out. Raising her chin from her chest, her dark eyes meet mine as her lips curve into a wicked grin.
“Whoopsie. Looks like that didn’t work,” she says, as if she knew full well whatever Abigail was doing would be fruitless.
“How—?” Abigail says wearily as she drops to the ground.
“Silly old fool. You don’t have anywhere near the capability to mess with the souls of Gemini Twins. The only one who has that kind of power is God—and maybe Death if he feels particularly generous. Good luck getting either of them on your side right now,” Cat says, chuckling.
“Gemini Twin,” Abigail mutters, raising a hand to her head. Her body flickers in and out of focus, shifting like a TV station receiving too much static. Then, with a simple blink, she vani
shes.
Without Abigail’s knowledge and power and direction, I feel completely exposed. If Abigail’s abilities weren’t enough, none of mine stand a chance against whatever a Gemini Twin is, either.
Unable to think of any other way to protect the grimoire, I take off running. I turn down the first tunnel, racing into the darkness. Wade’s grandpa follows me, his energetic cord continuing to hold as I try to make an escape. Behind me, the Fetch’s footsteps aren’t far behind. I keep running, hoping my eyes will adjust to the darkness or the torches will light, but when they don’t I fumble for my phone.
It drops from my hand, landing on the soft dirt with a thud.
“Dammit,” I say, panting. Panic erupts through my gut, launching a dose of adrenaline, and I keep running, unable to justify slowing down to grab it.
If I’m going to get away from the Fetch, I’ll need to lose her in these tunnels. But how…?
Suddenly, I close my eyes, trying to summon the sight Abigail had shown me earlier. I have no idea if it is a trick my astral self can use while my real self can’t…but there’s no time like the present to try.
Please, please, please work.
I continue to run, hoping my other senses will alert me if I’m about to faceplant into a wall or something.
“There’s no point in running, Autumn. I’ll find you,” the Fetch calls after me. Her voice echoes through the chamber halls, sending chills up my spine.
Then, as if a theater screen ignites in my mind, the spectrum of colors erupts, showing me the faint outlines of the tunnel walls and its offshoots. The walls are full of small archways, one on top of the other above a flat platform. Inside each archway are the bodies of hundreds, if not thousands, of people who have sought sanctuary in these catacombs. The realization makes me shudder, but I keep running, taking turn after turn in the hopes of losing her.
Taking an immediate left, I veer the revenant and I as far away from where we started as possible. It’s only after the first twenty or so turns that trepidation begins to seep in.
Soul Legacy: A Supernatural Ghost Series (The Windhaven Witches Book 2) Page 18
