Spirit Speaker

Later that night, Rowan and I lay under the stars, the deck quiet, deserted. 

"How long has it been, sir?"

I thought for a moment.

Screams, blood, fire…so much fire. Refugees flooding the streets and being mowed down in the hundreds by arrows, swords, and magic.

That was the last time I had been to the Elven Forests. 

 "You know? I don't remember." I said, failing to completely hide the quiver in my voice. 

If Rowan noticed it, he didn't mention it.

"You must be excited to go home." He said, putting his hands behind his head, and staring up at the sky. 

"I am." I replied. "Though not for the reasons you might think. I want to see Master Fereth, and introduce Anna to the grovekeepers, and the forest spirits."

"Have you told her yet?"

"About what?" 

"About what will happen when she leaves The Kingdom's borders."

I shook my head. "My master didn't tell me when I left the forest, and it was a learning experience. I'll follow him."

"But you threw your Master down a mineshaft." Rowan replied. 

"I fully expect Anna to do the same in a few years. Maybe off a cliff. Or bury me under a ton of gravel. She's strong, but only when she knows the spirits around her. I want her to know what it's like to try and work with unfamiliar ones."

"You're cruel, sir."

"True. But, the world is cruel, Rowan, and it's only going to get worse. War is coming, and I want her to be ready for it."

"War, sir?"

"War. Terrible, terrible war." I turned onto my side, away from him, my cloak bunched under my head as a pillow. "Now sleep, Rowan."

*

Three days later, we disembarked from the ship, and in a small row boat made our way to the small fishing village of Corel. 

It had grown in the nine months I had been absent. 

The streets were paved for one. Well, the main street was.

The Count was waiting for us on the shore, three guards around him. 

"This is Corel?" The princess asked as I helped her off of the boat. 

I nodded. "This place, ma'am, probably has the most potential out of all the territories in The Kingdom."

I helped Miss Rita from the boat and grabbed our luggage. There was too much for Rowan to take on his own. 

"Lukas! Good to see you, my friend." The Count said, his voice scratchy and hoarse. He shook my hand warmly. "Sorry, I'm catching a cold."

"Things look like they're going well." I said, eyeing the workers digging into the bank. 

"We're preparing the land for a dock, it's difficult for traders to load and offload cargo if they can't even arrive by the shore."

"Practical, oh yes, my companions. This is Jaina, my apprentice." I emphasised the princess's name. I had warned the Count that the princess would be accompanying me, but a reminder couldn't hurt.

"Good to meet you, Jaina." The Count greeted the princess, but there was panic in his eyes. "Is my old friend treating you well?"

He's hiding something.

"He dumps a bucket of water on my head at least twice a week," the princess responded lightly, "but other than that, he's been doing fine."

"This is Miss Rita and Rowan of course, you remember him from the Academy."

The Count nodded. "Come, you must be exhausted from your trip. Rena has had the servants prepare your rooms, and the cooks have prepared something special for this evening."

He turned on his heel and led us up the main street to the large wooden building that he called his home. The guards followed. 

It hadn't changed much. The same simple exterior, the same frantic activity, but the guards weren't lounging about this time. 

They were alert. And there were a lot of them. 

"What's going on?" I asked the Count. 

He gave me a look that silenced me immediately. 

"Jasim, will you show Miss Rita, and Jaina to their quarters? I'm certain they'd love to freshen up after 3 days at sea."

"Thank you, excellency." 

"This way ma'am." A young boy led the princess and her teacher away. She looked back at me, concerned. 

I waved her away. 

"You'll be fine." I mouthed. 

I turned back to the Count, who didn't say anything. He put his hand on the small of my back and pushed me in the direction of his office.

"Rowan, will you take my stuff to the room we stayed in last time?" I asked, a query to the count, more than to my servant. 

The Count nodded.

Rowan bowed, and once he had left, the count gripped my arm and practically pulled me to his office. 

He slammed the door behind him and collapsed against it. His eyes closed. 

And then he shimmered. 

"Rena?" I asked, stepping back surprised. 

"Lukas, you need to help me. Please."

"How did you get a changing stone? Where's Quint? What's going on?"

"Quint's been taken. They've got him."

"Who?"

"The shadows." She shuddered. "Lukas, the shadows have taken him, and I don't think I will ever see him again."

The colour drained from my face. Shock. 

"What?" 

"It started just after Quint found this."

Rena got up and headed over to the desk, opened a drawer, and handed me a box, a white box. 

A spirit prison. 

"Open it, but be careful."

Shaking I did as she asked, and nearly dropped it. 

"Impossible." I choked out. 

A book, covered in inky black darkness. 

"Where did he find this?" I asked urgently, closing the box. 

"It was in the library. The librarian swears it wasn't there a week ago. It…did something to the books. They…felt wrong somehow."

I collapsed to the floor, strength leaving my legs. 

Rena ran over to me. "Do you know what this is?" 

I nodded gravely, and dug in my pack, pulling out my own spirit prison. I handed it to her. 

"A book appeared in the Archives. I thought it was the only one."

Rena took it from me and opened it. 

She shut it immediately. 

"This one is far darker."

"It's older. It appeared in the library a few months ago."

I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose. "This isn't good, Rena. What happened to Quint?"

"The servants have been talking about shadows in the hallways. Figures that would reach out. They've taken to carrying torches around at night. Not candles, not lanterns, torches.

Quint was taken by one of them."

"What do you mean?"

Rena raised her shirt and turned to the side, 

The breath hissed out from between my teeth. 

A gash, black and festering, covered in the same black ink that consumed the book stretched from her hip to just under her armpit. 

"I tried to save him." She said, tears appearing in her eyes. "One of the shadows grabbed me, but I managed to escape. Quint…didn't."

She lowered her shirt. 

"How long?" 

"Last night, just after midnight."

I took her hand. "Has anyone had a look at you?" 

Rena shook her head. "I've been too busy pretending to be him. I can't suddenly go and find a physician."

"You could die! Infection, poison, rot, anything could happen to you! And then how will you find Quint?"

"Don't yell at me Lukas, I'm in pain enough already."

I shut my mouth fast. I hadn't realised I was shouting. 

"Sorry, Rena. It's… it's been a long time since I slept in a bed, and now this…I'm a little on edge."

I took a deep breath, and then smiled, reassuringly. "Okay, Rena. Lie down on the floor, let me take a look."

"What?"

"At your wound. I need to get a closer look. Maybe I can heal it, or at least get rid of some of the pain."

Tears sprung to her eyes, and she sank to the floor. "Are you sure you can do anything?"

She lay down and turned to her side. 

"I don't know, Rena, but I can try." I knelt beside her and summoned a group of spirits that hovered just above her side, lighting it up perfectly in the late afternoon sun. "Okay, I'm just going to lift your shirt." I said, kneeling next to her. 

Pulsing, thick, black inky darkness completely covered her side. One of the spirits floated close to it, and I heard a hiss.

The darkness shrank away from the light, revealing a red, angry wound.

I wracked my brain, looking for a solution. My mind flashed back to the library. I had managed to burn the residual darkness away from the shelf, after taking the book. 

"Rena, this is going to hurt. A lot." I dug into my pack and grabbed one of my sashes. I balled it up and handed it to her. 

"Bite on this, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Will it hurt that much?"

I nodded. "This thing is afraid of light, and fire. I'm going to give it plenty of both. Do you want me to knock you out?" 

She shook her head. "No. I can't handle the dreams, and I expect they'll be much worse now."

"You're brave, Rena. This is going to hurt more than anything you've ever felt. Just know that I'm sorry, so so sorry."

And with that, I summoned a flame to my hand. I focused it until it was a solid beam of white light, just above my index finger. 

"Okay, I'm starting."

I took her hand with my free one. "Put the sash in your mouth Rena. It'll muffle the screaming."

She did so, her face pale. 

"Ready?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. 

I lowered the flame to the wound. 

The sash wasn't enough to muffle her screams. 

I did my best to ignore them. Her hand gripped mine, tight, her face pale as a sheet, but she stayed perfectly still. 

I watched with some satisfaction as the shadow began to burn and bubble away. 

Slowly I made my way up the wound, making sure to eliminate every trace of darkness. 

About three minutes into the treatment, Rena passed out. The pain proving too much. 

I released her hand, held her still and resumed my work. 

It was slow work, painful work. But after ten minutes every bit of shadow had been burned away, leaving behind a terrible burn. 

I summoned a few spirits. 

"Heal her," I whispered. 

The spirits fluttered to the wound and began to kiss it, but soon they disappeared. 

I dug in my bag for another of my sashes, sanitized it with magic, and wrapped it around her.

The wound was too large. 

I removed my robe, tore strips of cloth from it, sanitized them one by one, and wrapped them around her.

I summoned more spirits, commanding them to heal her. 

They spent all their energy doing so, disappearing after only a minute or two. Once they had finished a section of the wound, I wrapped it with the cloth and moved on. 

Once she was completely bandaged, I fell back and pressed my hand to my temples. 

I readjusted her shirt, picked her up, and laid her gently on a white leather couch, her wounded side pointing away from the sofa.

I summoned another spirit. 

"Send for Rowan. Tell him to come immediately to the Count's office. Tell him to bring the emergency medical kit in the luggage. Tell him to rush."

I pulled up a chair and sat opposite her. I stared at the two spirit prisons, next to one another. 

How many are out there? 

It wasn't long before I heard a knock on the door. 

"Master?"

"Rowan, good. Come in."

My servant stepped inside, saw the countess lying on the couch, and shut the door quickly behind him. 

"What happened?"

"She was injured. The treatment was rough. Did you bring the kit?"

Rowan nodded and held up a leather satchel. 

I took it from him and began to unwind the strips of cloth I had used as a bandage. I took out a small linen bag and a wooden bowl. I loosened the drawstring and tipped the open bag into the bowl, filling it with a fine, dark green powder. I concentrated for a moment and the bowl filled with water, with the powder floating to the top. 

I removed a wooden spoon from the satchel, as well as a three-legged iron stand with a wooden handle attached to one of the legs.

Above the handle was a flat sheet of iron, connected to all three legs. 

I placed the bowl on the stand, summoned a flame on top of the sheet, and stirred the liquid inside. 

I stirred consistently, adjusting the temperature of the flame, watching the contents of the bowl bubble and boil and turn to a thick paste.

I dispelled the flame, lifted the three-legged stand by the wooden handle and raised it to eye level.

Soon, a thin layer of frost covered the outside of the bowl, which would melt, only to be replaced by another layer. 

Once the paste had cooled, I took some in my hands and applied it liberally to the burn. 

"How's that look, lad?" I asked. "Did I miss anywhere?" 

Rowan inspected the wound closely. "There sir, just under her arm is a bare patch."

"Good catch." I applied more of the paste to the burn. 

I then put one hand on one side of the wound and another on the far side of it, so that one of my hands was just above her hip, the other under her arm. 

A cool breeze began to form between them, blowing up and down the paste, hardening it. 

Once it was completely dry, I redressed the wound, sat back, and wiped the sweat from my forehead. 

I felt bone tired. 

I got up and gestured for Rowan to take my place, then with one last look at the patient, I ran for my rooms. 

I collapsed to my knees. 

"Lukas?"

"I found another one. There's another book."

I felt her hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw concern in her golden eyes. 

"Show me.