CHAPTER THREE
I had just finished unpacking, my clothes neatly hung in the deep mahogany wardrobe, when the air shifted again.
This time it was lighter, almost playful.
A soft rustle, like the sound of fabric brushing skin.
A child’s giggle, faint, but clear in the stillness of the room, echoed softly through the room.
I froze, listening.
It wasn’t uncommon for children to linger after death, often drawn to the memories of laughter and warmth they had known in life.
The playful spirits of young ones were often curious, but not malicious.
I had dealt with them before, spirits who found solace in simple interactions, in the comfort of being noticed.
“Are you hiding from me?” I said quietly, my voice soft but firm, meant to reach the child without startling them. “You don’t have to hide.”
The giggle stopped.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, a small figure, just in the doorway.
She appeared slowly, like a shadow stretching out from the corner of the room, cautious but curious.
The child’s face was soft, her features delicate but with a certain sadness beneath her bright eyes.
She had the look of a servant’s child, dressed in faded clothes, her little hands clasped tightly in front of her.
I smiled gently, crouching down to her level. “I won't hurt you,” I whispered.
Her eyes darted around, unsure whether to trust me, but the giggle returned, a light, innocent sound. Then as quickly as she had appeared, she vanished down the hall, her laughter still echoing behind her.
I followed, my steps quiet as I navigated the long hallways. With every creak of the floorboards, each whisper of wind that blew through the cracks in the windows, the castle stirred as I moved.
It didn’t take long to find her again, but this time, she wasn’t alone.
The child had stopped in the hallway near a large statue, but beside her was another figure.
A woman, tall and gaunt, with pale skin and a stony expression.
She wore a faded black dress with a starch white apron, the kind worn by a servant.
Her face, though kind, was tinged with an odd expression of perpetual service, as though she had never left her role .
Not even in death.
The maid caught sight of me then, her eyes widening as she pushed the little girl behind her. I held up my hands in surrender, trying not to frighten her.
”I won’t hurt you,” I said gently, stepping closer, but still keeping my distance.
The woman blinked, confused.
”My name is Mia,” I tried again. “I’m here to help you cross over… to leave this castle.”
This didn’t have the desired effect that I had hoped for.
The woman tugged the child closer to her, her soft eyes hardening now as she glared at me.
I could force her to leave this place with magic, but there were always risks with that.
Mainly, magic always had a price and mine was utter exhaustion after every use.
I’d hoped that the spirits of Ravenspire would simply agree to move on.
Unfortunately, it didn’t look as though I would be so lucky.
I sighed, cursing inwardly.
Stepping forward, I closed the distance between myself, the woman, and her child.
I could feel the energy in the castle swirling around us, thick with the weight of the spirits that were still here, but I forced my focus on the present, the woman’s hand, now trembling, and the silent gaze of the child.
I raised my palm slowly, feeling the familiar hum in my ears, the subtle pulse of magic just beneath my skin.
The energy in the hallway shifted, tightening around me like the castle knew my intentions and wasn’t happy about it.
I closed my eyes, taking slow breaths. There was no room for hesitation now.
My magic was about to meet the weight of their souls, and release would come.
I couldn’t brew a potion or even cast a simple spell, but death, I could control.
I reached deeper inside, letting the power rise in me, coaxing the energy from the air and from within my own body. My fingers tingled as I guided their spirits, their ethereal forms reaching for the light that I would give them.
The tether between us tightened as I threaded the power through my hands, lifting their souls gently, slowly, but with steady force.
I could feel their weight, light, fragile, and yet with an unspoken burden.
The energy swelled as I added more force to the resistance.
I breathed words of release, carefully keeping my focus.
Beads of sweat formed on my brow as something jerked against my magic, pulling me forward. I opened my eyes, meeting the woman’s concerned gaze. She clung to the child and her frown was deep with worry.
What was happening?
I summoned more power, pulling from within my own energy to strengthen my magic. The light was right there , yet I couldn’t release them. Something powerful was clinging to them, fighting my magic .
The castle floor began to rumble beneath my boots, plumes of dust and dirt vibrated over the stone.
A harsh wind ripped through my bones, whipping my auburn tresses around my face.
I pushed against the force, but it pushed back harder, knocking me off of my feet.
My back slammed into the hard, cold stone, and the air wheezed from my lungs.
I scrambled to my feet just as an ear piercing scream tore through the castle. I doubled over, clasping my hands over my ears, but it was as if the sound was inside of my head. I opened my eyes just in time to see the woman and child flicker rapidly, their expressions frightened.
I took a step forward, reaching out my hand, but it was too late. As if ripped away forcefully, they vanished in an instant.
The castle suddenly went still and silent.
I released the hold on my magic, letting it retreat into my core. But, as soon as I did, I felt the familiar hollowness that always followed such an exertion. My muscles ached and the air around me suddenly felt too thick. My breathing labored and a dull ache started to spread from behind my eyes.
My energy was drained. It was a slow exhaustion that crept over me, not like fatigue from a long day’s work, but something deeper. Something more insidious. Each time I used Necromancy, it took. It was my price.
My grandmother’s price had been different, my father’s too, each generation paying differently for the same magic. My throat tightened at the thought of them, but I pushed it deep down inside.
I stood there, numb, exhausted, and confused.
I’d encountered spirits before that weren’t ready to leave, but my magic was always stronger than their will. This was different though. Something, not the servant or the child, dark and powerful had fought me.
And it had won.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself before daring to move.
I knew I couldn’t linger here, drained, in the corridor for much longer.
I needed to recover, even if only for a little while.
Leaving myself weakened could lead to a slew of problems in a place like Ravenspire, the most dire consequence being possession.
If an entity chose to harness my body, they’d be privy to my magic as well.
Exhausted, I barely had the strength to make it back to my bedchamber. My body felt as though it were made of stone, each movement heavier than the last. The halls seemed to stretch endlessly, and I stumbled more than once as I made my way back to my room.
My fingers fumbled at the buttons of my dress, the fabric suddenly constricting, suffocating.
I undressed with quick, jerky movements, casting the layers aside without care before slipping into my nightgown.
The soft cotton clung to my skin, but all I could focus on was the bed, the warmth beneath the thick blankets, and the promise of sleep.
I fell onto the mattress like a stone dropped into water, the softness enveloping me. My face pressed into the pillow, and I buried my cheek into its coolness. I closed my eyes, the darkness creeping in, and within seconds, the heavy weight of sleep pulled me under.