Page 47 of Kingdom of Spirits
The ghost rolled its eyes. Vodolija snorted and took a step toward the ghost.
“Easy, big beauty,” the ghost said. Then he turned back to Tahlia. “Your friend still has a chance to live because she remembers her life and her center.”
Tahlia exhaled, nearly falling to her knees in gratitude. Alive. Fara was alive and they were going to save her.
“That’s what keeps me from becoming a varjuline,” the ghost said, “which is a shadowling that exists only to feed themselves and to feed Katk. In life, I was called Trevain. Not that you asked.”
A breeze that smelled like stagnant water drifted across Tahlia’s face.
“Are they ghosts like you, but evil instead of oddly informative?” she asked, her hands shaking.
The ghost nodded, his partially transparent ram horns fading in and out. “As long as I retain my mind and my memories, I can withstand the call of the sleeping Katk.”
“Enough talking,” Marius said, drawing his sword. Ragewing flapped his wings, turning the area into a small windstorm for a moment. “We must rescue our squire.”
Tahlia gave him a look, then smiled at the ghost. They wouldn’t get far if they insulted anyone trying to help them. “We want to learn all about you, Trevain, but for now, can you take us to our friend?”
“I will do it for you,” he said to Tahlia.
He bowed to her, then floated over a scattered floor of flagstones, moss, and earth.
An open doorway led to the remains of a staircase that descended underground. They trailed the spirit, the ghost’s light illuminating the timeworn stone and the water dripping from the partially collapsed ceiling of the staircase. A corridor, as black as night, stretched out past the stairs. Marius remained in front of Tahlia, just behind Trevain.
“Stay back three steps,” Marius ordered Tahlia over his shoulder.
“Aye, High Captain.” She had to figure out why he was so insistent on not touching her.
The corridor opened into a chamber that smelled strongly of illness and blood.
Fara lay in the center of the room, surrounded by a cage of golden fire. They hurried inside, stopping at the ring.
“Fara?” Tahlia touched the ring. The flame didn’t singe her skin, but the strange magic blocked her like a wall of stone.
Fara opened her eyes. “Tahlia?” She struggled to her feet and stared out at them through the flickering light. Her arms were covered in golden boils and instead of being the color of a rare amethyst, her skin was as pale as a shade-loving periwinkle bloom.
“You have only moments before the varjuline return,” Trevain said, turning toward the doorway like he expected the villainous ghosts to enter this very second. “Though they will be less drawn to you, Tahlia, because of your human blood, there are many and they are hungry.”
Tahlia unsheathed her short sword. “Move as far away from this edge as you can, Fara.”
Fara did so and Tahlia swung her sword, aiming to slice through the flames. The sword passed through and Fara gasped, hope lighting her eyes. But the flames returned before she could escape.
“Damn it!” Tahlia whirled. “Marius, any ideas?”
“High Captain. Please.”
“Really? You’re worried about rules and regulations at a time like this?”
“This is exactly the time to remain disciplined and to follow protocol. That’s all we have to rely on when so much is out of our control.”
“All you might have to rely on, but rules don’t always work toward an end goal.” Exasperated, she waved her hands. “Just forget about that. What do we do?”
Marius stepped closer to Fara. “What happened? Who trapped you here?”
“I told you. It was the varjuline,” Trevain said.
“Apologies, but I don’t trust you yet,” Marius snapped over his shoulder.
Tahlia gave Marius a look. “Sorry, Trevain,” she said, glancing the ghost’s way. “He’s a bit of a grouch. He does trust you, or he wouldn’t have followed you in here. He especially wouldn’t have let me trail along. He’s very protective.”