Page 62 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

“Naomi is right, I’m well aware of Rebecca’s disliking towards me,” Maisie said in a normal tone now that we had made it out of the building and jogged forwards to the woods where we could slow down since surely no one would catch us hidden between the massive trees. “We were never close, but we were nice to each other, and I still am to this day, but she onlysees an enemy in me. It’s sad, honestly, but it’s not my fault Nathaniel isn’t in love with her.”

My head spun around to look at my friend, a little surprised. “Oh, it’s about jealousy?”

She nodded, holding her light up between the trees as we made our way further into the forest. “I didn’t know she liked him before Nathaniel and I got closer. He had always been a loner, and at first not even I was his biggest fan. So mean and quiet.” She started grinning. “With me, he’s never quiet.”

Naomi cleared her throat and stopped walking. “Can we do the girls talk sometime this week, and someone could just explain why I was woken before the crack of dawn and now follow you into the darkness of the woods?”

“We have to get to the chapel before someone notices our disappearance—which is not likely, but I would prefer not to stay in these woods in the dead of night for too long.” Paranoia was already playing with my mind, and I imagined eyes watching me from the trees. “I know the answer to the riddle lies hidden in the chapel, and I need to find those answers because… because…”

Because I need to prove to myself that I wasn’t a waste of oxygen, that I could do something great.

Dottie told me that I was meant for something big, that I was the last De Loughrey to take on our birthright. I might not know what specifically I was made for, but I held on to the hopes of having a purpose in this life.

The words lay on the tip of my tongue, but as much as I tried, I couldn’t force them out.

“Because I have the feeling if we don’t find the Book of Shadows before our destiny catches up to us, that Archer and my death will be only the start of something far worse,” I said and continued to walk along the path that led us to the old chapel. The nights got colder and colder as the days passed by, and fromwhat I have heard about this area, we had to expect snow around the beginning of December.

“What do you mean by that, Doe?” Maisie asked from my left side, while Naomi had caught up to me on my right.

“Dottie appeared in my dream, and I’m certain that what she told me wasn’t just an imagination of my own fears. She sounded frantic about something, but whenever she tried to tell me… it seemed like something was blocking out the truth.”

“Since we first discovered the riddles and Umbra in general, we’ve tried to ask the more decent spirits what this is all about. Every time their eyes started to glaze and the next second they spoke about something else, our questions completely forgotten,” Naomi told me, confusion filling her own voice. “We didn't give it much consideration, just thought they were too stubborn to tell us.”

I frowned, thinking back to Gwyneth, who had attempted to tell me something she couldn’t. First, I had thought she just liked teasing me, but thinking about it…

“It’s like the truth of the past is cursed to never be spoken again,” I said out loud.

“But who would try to hide what happened?” Maisie asked, almost tripping over a rock. “Oh, didn’t notice that one,” she mumbled, continuing to light us the way.

I shrugged. “There’s too much to figure out.”

“Our grandparents could have at least left us a handbook on how to sense spirits without looking like a mental idiot,” Naomi joked, and I chuckled, “would have been nice.”

We made it onto the last path that would lead us directly to the chapel’s front porch in around three minutes. It was also the path where the trees were hugging so close you felt like you’d be the next big story horror movies will be made of.

I would die one way or the other, so I might as well use my time left to fight my fears.

“What else did Dottie tell you?” Maisie questioned, as light as ever, without a hint of fear in her voice. “And why hasn’t she ever revealed herself as a spirit to anyone else?”

I recalled my ancestor's words. “She said something along the lines of,I didn’t get to choose whether I wanted to stay beyond the veil.She mentioned that she’s not a spirit and that her soul was taken from her.”

“If we assume her soul was destroyed—although I don’t even know if that’s a real possibility—how could she still speak to you?” Naomi’s question was a good one, and I had no answer.

“Maybe because I’m related to her?”

She scoffed. “That doesn’t make sense. Blood doesn’t bind you.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “And how would you know that?”

“My father passed away when I was nine. I never saw or felt his presence around me. If spirits decide to move on from their path between life and the afterlife, we’ll never see, feel, or hear from them again. It doesn’t matter how much we might wish to.” Naomi swallowed, her gaze narrowing. If I wasn’t imagining it, her sadness hung around her like an aura.

“I’m sorry about your father.” I touched her arm gently, and she allowed it, lingering in her sorrow for a moment before sighing heavily. “It’s been years. I’ve learnt to live with the knowledge that his illness can’t hurt him anymore. At least we know spirits don’t connect through blood, so your great-aunt must have done something before her death to ensure she could send this message to you.”

I let go of her arm, sensing she didn’t want pity or to dwell on her father’s memory. Grief was something I’d never truly experienced, and I couldn’t imagine mourning my own deadbeat of a father. But Naomi’s grief still felt raw in some way, and being near her when she expressed it made me feel a pang of sorrow. A theory formed in my mind.

What if Naomi could sense the emotions of the dead so strongly that it influenced her mood—or even affected the living around her when she was distracted or vulnerable?

I’d have to think about this more once we were safely out of the woods.

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