Page 7 of Necromance
I summoned more power, pulling from within my own energy to strengthen my magic. The light wasright 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 Iused 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, thewarmth 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.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day, I awoke to soft afternoon light filtering through the tall windows of my bedchamber. The air still felt thick, but there was a calm to it now, a quiet stillness that the night had refused to grant. The events of the night before, while still worrisome, slowly faded from my mind.
I rose slowly, stretching my limbs, the muscles in my arms and legs still sore from the exertion of the previous night. But I was determined to use the daylight hours wisely. The castle was vast, filled with rooms upon rooms I had only glimpsed in passing the night before. I had barely scratched the surface, and there was much more to discover.
The stillness of daylight hours made it the perfect time to wander. The spirits were calmer, their energy more subdued. Restless, yes, but not nearly as intrusive. I could feel them as I moved through the corridors, but they remained in the background, watching rather thanapproaching. Their soft whispers didn’t overwhelm me, and I was left to explore without the distractions of restless souls demanding my attention.
I wandered from one grand hall to another, each room more breathtakingly beautiful than the last, though each one crumbled under the weight of time. Cobwebs hung in every crevice, and the scent of dust and mildew hung in the air, but beneath it, there was a faint sweetness, the scent of forgotten things, memories left to fester in the quiet. Despite its decay, there was an undeniable beauty in its tragic elegance. It was as if the castle, in all its ruin, was still trying to maintain its dignity.
I moved onward, my fingers brushing the cold stone of the walls as I went, absorbing the energy of the place, letting it fill me. The house wasn’t just a structure, it had a pulse, a life of its own, albeit one that had long ago withered and died.
In all of my nearly twenty-seven years, I’d never experienced a haunting quite like what I felt in the castle. There were souls, of course, but there was something deeper. Something just beneath my senses that was drenched in darkness. It left my own magic stirring uneasily, yet it called to my own darkness too.
A part of me thatI kept tucked deep down inside of me.
The same part some necromancers used to call forth the dead to do their bidding. It was perhaps why so many people feared me.
That part of necromancy was not who I was. It would never be who I was. An image of my father’s pale, death stricken face surfaced in my mind and I swallowed back the tears that pricked my eyes and shoved the memory away.
I preferred helping people, helping lost souls find their way. Admittedly, the parlor tricks weren’t my favorite, but it was money. I couldn’t actually make candles flicker, move objects around with unseen hands, or make a seance table tether in the air, and for the most part, spirits couldn’t either. Unless they were quite strong and had enough energy, I had to improvise for my noble customers. Regardless of the reason they hired me, they always expected a show. The truth was,thatpart was mostly just that… a show. The majority of the spirits I called forth would simply wait patiently until I’d finished with the theatrics to give their loved ones a message.
Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the creak of floorboards, the occasional gust of wind pressing against the window panes. I could sense the spirits now, hanging in the corners of rooms, just out of sight. They were watching, timid but curious too. I opened my mind to them and even offered a bit of energy, but still, they had nothing to say.
My steps carried me through the rooms that seemed to speak of lives long gone, fine china abandoned on broken shelves, faded tapestries still hanging on the walls, the past scenes of family life now dull and torn. The once-stunning library had shelves so overcrowded with books that some of them had fallen to the floor, piles of them collecting dust where no one dared to touch. The lingering smell of old ink and parchment filled the air, mixing with the dampness that clung to the stone.
I spent hours walking the castle, exploring its labyrinthine halls and forgotten rooms. There was something intimate in its decline, a vulnerability that I couldn’t look away from.
I couldn’t help but wonder what secrets it held, secrets not just of the castle, but of its inhabitants, and perhaps most pressing of all, the man in the portrait.
