Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
“Wake, gravewitch.”
Erinna couldn’t place the voice. A dream, then. But warmth wrapped around her, real and solid, and the voice held no cruel edge. Not the Weeping Queen. Someone else.
“Wake, gravewitch,” the voice repeated, and this time Erinna had enough sense to claw her way to consciousness. Raye stood in front of her as she scrambled to get herself upright. How long had she been out? Was this just part of the dream? She shook tired, doubtful thoughts from her head.
“Raye?” she asked the spirit of the old monk. He was stronger now, she could tell. His form was still somewhat translucent, but his features were sharper, his voice stronger.
The spirit nodded. “Yes, I have been trying to contact you for a while.”
Erinna rubbed the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry. “You’ve been trying to contact me? I’ve been trying to contact you.”
“I noticed. You are highly untrained.”
Erinna closed her eyes to fight an oncoming headache. “Was it you who helped me? With the door?”
“Of course it was me. No one else would have been able to cross the Realm Beyond for such an untrained gravewitch.”
Erinna’s brows furrowed. “I’m an aberrant. Why do you call me a gravewitch?” There was no use hiding her secret; it was painfully obvious.
Raye made a low, disapproving sound. For a moment, he said nothing.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, heavy.
“I see. So we lost.” He drew a slow breath.
“I call you a gravewitch because that is what you are—a seer of souls, a walker of two worlds.” Another pause, darker now. “How many of you remain?”
There were more like her? Erinna couldn’t stop the shock from rolling over her. “I don’t know anyone else like me.”
A shadow crossed Raye’s face.
“I see.” He fluttered around the small room, eyes scanning the remaining contents.
“How old are you?” Erinna heard that people used to live on the island. A small population of scholars and their families, but they came and went before Iprix reached one hundred. It was a whispered tale that changed depending on how tired or drunk the storyteller was.
“Has Iprix become Chancellor?”
Erinna’s eyes widened, and that was all the answer Raye needed. “It may cause more distress to continue this line of questioning.” Erinna couldn’t agree more.
“I need help,” she started.
“As do I.”
There was a beat of awkward silence as they each waited for the other to continue.
“Do you know how to get around the traps in the tower?” she asked.
“In a way.”
Erinna pinched the bridge of her nose to ward against oncoming frustration. “Can I get into the tower and library safely?”
There was a beat of silence as Raye thought. Erinna fought the circling tendrils of despair the longer he went without speaking.
“I can guide you and your pirates through.”
She wondered how much he knew and how long he’d been trying to reach out, but steadied herself against spiraling thoughts.
“Please tell me how I can help you, Raye. And in return, would you consider guiding me through the place?”
“I need you to take a ribbon from that drawer and make sure it sees the light of day.” There was a sadness in his tone. A melancholy filled the space.
Erinna made her way to the desk. It wobbled on three good legs, and the papers had since been scattered. She tugged once again, but the compartment wouldn’t budge.
“I…don’t remember where I left the key,” said Raye before fluttering around the room in search.
Erinna patted the old, splintering wood. “Do you care for the desk, Raye?”
The ghost stopped his search, understanding her plan. “It was my father’s. But I didn’t care much for him.”
Erinna took a piece of lumber, near three feet in length and requiring two hands to wield. With a mighty swing, she pushed the entirety of her strength into a downward blow.
The wood caved beneath her weight, the legs only half standing at best. With brute force, the piece cracked and smashed onto the floor. The drawer popped open, free from the rusted metal lock that kept it shut.
Old paper, pens, and dried-up ink now sprawled across the floor. But Erinna’s attention fell on a dusty leather pouch, barely the size of her palm. “It’s in there,” Raye confirmed. She could hear the excitement in his voice and wondered how long he had been waiting for the moment.
As gently as possible, she opened the dried leather satchel and drew out a yellowed hair ribbon. The material was light as silk, yet sturdy enough to withstand the ages. Erinna wrapped the ribbon around her wrist to avoid losing it or forgetting.
She turned to Raye and bowed slightly. There was supposed to be a formality to these things, she thought, but didn’t know the practice. “I will make sure the light of the Mother Goddess graces that which contains your essence.”
“Not mine. My daughter’s. She asked me before passing, but neither of us were able to make it at the end of the day. We were the last ones left on the island.” There was finality in his tone, and Erinna wouldn’t push him for the story.
Raye gestured to the still-burning fire. “You must take this flame and keep it burning.”
“Is this how it always works?” Erinna couldn’t help but wonder and hoped to at least learn something about the Talent resting within her.
“No. You are just far too untrained to keep me here after you have provided the last blessing.” Erinna nodded. “We must borrow the knowledge from the witches before.”
“How much do you know about my Talent?”
“We call it Talent now?”
Erinna’s stomach lurched. Perhaps Asher was right. Grace came before Talent. Her head swam with information she wished were useless, but a primal instinct in the back of her head begged her to comprehend.
“Whatever it is…how do I use this?”
Raye’s spirit flickered for a moment like flame as he thought. “It’s the same fundamental principles as any other mage. You have been blessed with the ability to grab and move the threads of magic, touch arcanum. Do they not teach you this in school?”
“I’m not allowed…” Erinna trailed off to tame rising vexation.
“Oh. I see.” The sorrow in Raye’s voice was unmistakable.
“If you continue to use your power untrained, it will not only be dangerous for you, but for anyone around you. There’s a book in the library in the back that we gave Iprix when he was just the Minor Apprentice.
On the Domains of Witches and Wickedry. It should still be there somewhere if he kept the same filing system. ”
“Thank you.” Erinna nodded and couldn’t keep herself from asking, “How long have you been stuck roaming this place?”
“Oh, I haven’t been. You called me back from the Realm Beyond. You should be lucky it was only me that came across.”
Erinna furrowed her brow, and Raye was quick with an answer to her unspoken question. “It’s in the book.”
She desperately wanted to ask for more information, but the sun was already peeking through the windows.
Erinna moved toward the fire, careful to keep the ribbon away from the licking flames as she relit her lantern with the enchanted light.
She would keep it burning as long as she could, but time would be of the essence.
Should Raye be pulled back to the Realm Beyond, she would be back to square one and doubted she’d be met with the same success.
Raye disappeared in a silent puff, but Erinna knew he was still around, could feel him, waiting for his time to guide her. She straightened, her resolve hardening.
Kane. Afton. Time to hunt them both down and get back to what they’d come here for in the first place. No more delays. No more distractions.