CHAPTER TEN #3
“Yes,” he said. “I didn’t realize he was anything more than a figment—a vision brought on due to my grief. It wasn’t until weeks later that I realized he was a true ghost, and I was the one who summoned him.”
After Deckard concluded his explanation, Obel nodded sagely. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his severe stare twinkled like stars. “This,” he said, “is nothing.”
Deckard blinked, uncomprehending.
Auden sat up. “Summoning a ghost is not nothing. It’s the start of the Deep. And just because Jonn is not a Night Mage doesn’t mean the Deep can’t come upon him should he continue to meddle in death itself.”
Obel drew in an annoyed breath. “Highlord Calder, if you’re going to discuss Night magic, I’d recommend you study it further.” He turned back to Deckard then, emphasizing each word as he repeated, “This is nothing.”
“I’d beg you to explain, Your Grace,” Deckard said, leaning forward.
Obel met his desperation with a grin. “When you summon a ghost, you have to enter into their death mind, body, and spirit,” he said casually.
“As you were digging his grave, and due to your travels, presumably near the scene of his death and within hours of it, that makes the summoning of his ghost rather mundane. You aren’t some Night magic prodigy, Colonel.
You were simply in the right place at the right time, feeling the right thing to channel him.
What’s more, it sounds like he was a willing soul since he came to your call without a fight. ”
Deckard’s brow pinched. “So this isn’t a shock?”
“No.”
“And I shouldn’t be concerned?”
“No.”
“And I’m not a Night Mage?”
Obel raised his brow. “If you were, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
But you’re not. While it’s clear Night is your second resource, I’m certain you’re a Space Mage.
” He gave a slow shake of his head. “No, Colonel, this is nothing to concern yourself with. The danger in summoning a ghost is entering the essence of their death and violating the laws of life. That is what drives Mages to insanity.”
A small grumble came from Auden, but he remained otherwise silent.
The relief returned to Deckard, but he pressed on. “How do I release Hewitt, then?” he asked.
“The same way you summoned him,” Obel said. “The only way to release a ghost is to return it to the place of its death. You’ve summoned a soul from its body before it entered the afterlife. You must give it back to him so he can resume his journey to the Heavens.”
Deckard frowned. “I have to return to his grave?”
“Yes,” Obel said with a single nod. “Go back to his grave and let him go. Treat it like all magic: Tap into your focus and use the power of your thought.”
“It’s that simple?”
“For you,” Obel grinned, “it’s that simple.
In other cases, with other Mages, this would be another conversation.
But—” He raised his hand then, pointing at Deckard, “you have to mean to release him in all truth. It sounds as though this man meant something to you and this Evylin—your wife, I presume. You cannot harbor within you an ounce of desire to hold him here. The release won’t take otherwise. ”
Deckard drew in a long breath. That was easier said than done.
Even though he no longer needed Hewitt to earn Evylin’s love, he didn’t want to release the man, ghost or not.
He didn’t want to lose him. He’d become a mentor, a father-like figure, a friend—the thought of letting him go forever broke Deckard’s heart.
“Now,” Obel said, moving on, “I have a final question.”
Deckard nodded, prompting him to ask.
Obel pointed to his chest. “The Night Relic,” he said, sharp gaze piercing. “Why do you wear it?”
With a cautious glance at Auden, Deckard shifted in his seat. “After our encounter with Renaul, we agreed it would be best to keep the Relics more closely guarded. And as I was able to disguise it before, I could do so again should the need arise.”
“Hm.” Obel’s brow quirked up. “Do you not feel a pull to use it? Does it not weigh on you like a cloak of sorrow or somberness? Is there no grand urge within you for rest and tranquility?”
Though Deckard knew he should feel those things—any Mage or Warrior not Bonded should feel the individual effects of the Relics upon their emotions by all accounts—he shrugged. “I do not,” he admitted.
“It doesn’t bother you at all?”
“No more than any other necklace might.”
Obel frowned. “And the other Relics, what experience do you have with them?”
Pausing, Deckard found himself surprised. “I don’t,” he said. “I’ve never used any of the other Relics because we assumed I was a Night Mage, and therefore, the Night Relic would best benefit my powers. But I’ve not had the occasion to test the other Relics.”
“Hm,” Obel said again.
“Hm?” Deckard urged.
The duke’s grin grew sly. “Bloody Space Mages,” he said, then tipped his chin toward Deckard.
“Bonded or not, you are not a Night Mage. That thing should be crushing you, demanding that you use it. The fact that it doesn’t have that effect on you leads me to only one conclusion: the vastness of Space grants you a focus of mind, a willpower of infinite proportion beyond even what the Relics can demand.
You managed to disguise that Relic with Space magic.
You managed to carry it unhindered with Space magic. ”
Lord Obel’s green stare bored into Deckard, penetrating to his core.
“Highlord Calder is right, Colonel,” he said ominously.
“Your magic is dangerous. You are a young Mage, both in age and in experience. Yet, you’ve managed to carry a weight of power not even I could bear.
It’s good—for now. But as you learn to harness the vastness of Space, you will become even stronger and more capable of far more dangerous things. ”
His voice dipped low as he edged forward in his seat. “Yes, Colonel, if you wanted to, I believe you could take all eight of those Relics and destroy this whole damn world.”