Chapter Six
Darcy was able to gather shadows around him, obscuring himself sufficiently that the wights could not attack him effectively. But maintaining a screen of shadows taxed his already-depleted energy.
He wrapped shadows around the empty holes that served as the wight’s eyes. The creature screamed in frustration, flying randomly as it clawed at its face in an attempt to remove the shadows.
Elizabeth had woven vines and brambles into a sort of shield to protect herself and her sister.
With her control of iron, Lydia had produced a long, wicked spear, which she used to slash at the wights from behind the cover of the shield.
The wights did not bleed when stabbed, but the spear apparently injured them sufficiently to cause the wounded creatures to fall back.
Darcy was the object of the wights’ attack.
They were attacking all the humans, but more of the creatures were focused on him than on the others.
He was the only one the necromancer could possibly have a quarrel with.
“Leave me! Leave me!” he shouted to the others, but either they did not hear or were not inclined to obey.
As the other Bennet sisters neared the scene of the battle, a wave from the nearby pond washed over another wight, swamping it—Jane Bennet’s doing.
Another wight caught fire, although Darcy could not recall which sister was a pyromancer.
A huge pit opened in the ground, swallowing two of the wights.
Was it Mary who possessed terramancy? Mr. Bennet followed more slowly, but Darcy guessed he was responsible for the bluish light that glowed around the Bennet girls and repulsed the wights’ grasping hands.
Darcy could not help but be impressed with the Bennet family’s skills.
None of them hesitated to throw themselves into the fray despite facing quite daunting and gruesome opponents.
They were all practiced in their craft and worked well together.
Nevertheless, the wights were numerous and incredibly strong.
Darcy recalled what happened when a wight killed a human victim; he had no desire to witness that happening to a Bennet sister.
“Leave me!” he shouted to the others. “It is me the wights seek!” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and the others ignored him. Damnation! Why did they have to be so stubborn? Darcy was a stranger to them.
A wight made a lunge for Elizabeth, and Darcy attempted to reach her. But Lydia slashed at the creature and forced it to retreat.
In his momentary distraction, he allowed the shadows concealing himself to thin out.
The nearest wight reached out a taloned hand toward Darcy’s neck.
He dodged away, but one claw scraped across his cheek, drawing blood.
He did not even notice the creature’s other hand until it was too late.
It hooked a talon under the amulet’s chain and broke it with a flick of its finger.
Darcy grabbed at the amulet, but the wight held it in a bony hand out of reach.
It flew away into the night, no doubt taking its prize to the necromancer.
The attacks did not cease.
Darcy suspected the wight that attacked Tolliver had drained the poor man’s life energy—effectively feeding from him. Now that the wights were at Longbourn, they regarded the Bennets as a source of fuel. Darcy cursed himself again for drawing the creatures’ attention to the family.
“We must go inside!” Bennet shouted. “The house is warded.”
Darcy agreed, but there were too many wights. The house might as well have been on the moon.
Bennet was casting shields over his daughters, but he did not have the power to ward them all at once. And he was failing to shield himself. When a wight landed on his back, the other shields disappeared while Bennet used his mancy to repel the creature.
“Leave me!” Bennet yelled to his daughters. “I will shield you until you reach the house.”
None of the Bennet daughters appeared to be listening. Finally, Elizabeth cried, “We will not leave Mr. Dee, and we will not leave you, Papa!”
While Darcy applauded their bravery, he had no desire to be the cause of anyone’s death.
He could not deny the truth. Even with their combined powers, the humans were losing the battle.
There were simply too many wights, and they were too difficult to kill.
Even the ones that had been buried in earth or drowned in water were only momentarily deterred, rising to fight again after a few minutes.
Darcy did not know if such creatures could even be destroyed.
How did one kill creatures that were already dead?
And the human fighters were weakening. While the wights appeared to never tire, the Bennets could not sustain this fight indefinitely. Despair gripped Darcy’s heart.
They would all die.
***
Elizabeth had never felt quite so useless.
Kitty used fire to fight the wights while Jane used water.
Mary was hurling rocks and burying them in the earth.
Lydia conjured iron weapons out of thin air, and her father shielded others with his warding mancy.
Elizabeth did not recognize Mr. Dee’s mancy, but it was effectively deterring attacks and confusing the wights.
Elizabeth’s powers, on the other hand, were of little use.
She initially had endeavored to grab and bind the creatures with vines, but the plants withered instantly upon contact with them.
Living plants did not survive contact with creatures of pure death.
Elizabeth had then grown a shield of vines around herself and Lydia, but the wights’ sharp claws frequently cut through the plants, forcing her to constantly regrow them. She bled from many small cuts.
Unfortunately, vivomancers had limited offensive capabilities. Usually it did not bother her, but her family had never faced a threat like this one.
The wights’ very existence disturbed her as well.
They are innocent human spirits forced into this horrific shape and compelled to do the necromancer’s bidding.
How horrifying to be trapped and used in such a way.
She knew of no way to free the spirits save the death of the necromancer who had summoned them—whoever that might be.
Unsurprisingly Mr. Dee’s energy was flagging, and his screen of shadows dimmed. A wight was closing in on him. Everyone was engrossed in their own battles; nobody could go to his aid.
Elizabeth could only imagine how a human would appear after being drained by a wight. The thought was unbearable. Abandoning her screen of vines, she rushed to Mr. Dee’s side. She pulled at the wight’s arm, but she could not move it as much as an inch.
The wight’s mouth had latched onto his neck; life energy was seeping from his body. He was endeavoring to push it away, but his movements grew slower and weaker as his skin took on a grayish pallor.
Elizabeth fought a growing sense of panic; surely there was something she could do.
Since the wight were in want of living energy, perhaps she could provide something else to feed upon.
Living energy was the vivomancer’s stock in trade.
Elizabeth gathered energy from the surrounding shrubs, plants, and grass, pulling the very essence of life itself.
She imagined shaping that energy into a ball of white light between her hands.
If the wight was a dead enslaved soul, she would fight it with the power of life. Elizabeth pushed the ball of energy toward the wight’s back, hoping she might distract it from Mr. Dee. To her astonishment, the energy passed through the creature’s diaphanous garments and into the body underneath.
The effect was instantaneous. The wight released Mr. Dee, splaying out its limbs in shock. Elizabeth pumped more life energy into its body. After a moment, the wight went still and expelled a breath—almost a sigh. A sigh of relief?
In the next second, the wight’s body disintegrated until nothing remained but wisps of mist. And then those too disappeared. She had freed the spirit.
She stared at her hands in astonishment. How in the world did she possess such power?
But there was no time to marvel. A second wight grabbed for Mr. Dee, who was barely able to stand. Elizabeth blocked it with her body, pushing life energy into this creature as she had before. It dissolved immediately, leaving no trace behind.
Mr. Dee’s color was quickly improving. She reached out to steady him, but he shook his head. “Help the others,” he said hoarsely.
“I will, but you must go to the house.” He appeared about to object. “Please help Lydia to safety,” she begged, pointing to where her youngest sister knelt on the lawn, clutching a wound in her side.
Mr. Dee gave a weary nod and stumbled toward Lydia. He helped her stand, and they lurched toward the front door.
Whirling around, Elizabeth grabbed and dissolved a wight that was menacing Kitty.
Now that she understood the process, it took less time.
“Run for the house!” she urged her sister.
Elizabeth moved on to grab a wight that was attacking Jane.
By the time she had dispatched that one, the others had recognized the threat she represented and were flying away.
She experienced a pang of regret as she helped her father limp into the house. If only she could have freed more tormented souls. Mary was the last one through the door. She closed and bolted it with an expression of relief.
Longbourn’s front hallway resembled a field hospital. Hill and one of the maids were applying dressings to Lydia’s wounds. Jane had collapsed, exhausted, on the floor while Mr. Bennet and Mr. Dee shared a bench opposite the door. Their mother stood near the stairs wringing her hands.
“We are doomed! We will be slaughtered in our beds!” her mother shrieked.
“How is that possible?” Elizabeth asked. “We are not in our beds.”
There was a brief pause. “We will be slaughtered in the hallway!” her mother cried.