By herself.

BY HERSELF.

She could say no. What would Darkness do—make her? He could take Mica instead—leaving her to watch the urn and jump at every noise the ship made. The Light-blessed cast her a smile and did not appear to care whether he waited in the midnight darkness by himself, so why did she hesitate to do her part? Decrying her cowardice, Vantra prodded her essence into retracing their steps, thinning her wisps to the point she could still function but no one would notice her in the gloom.

She hoped.

She whisked between stacks of crates, hating the disquieting atmosphere, the touch that scratched along her essence like nails on slate, the creepy tingle up the back of her neck that screamed someone watched her. Someone did, and she knew him well, but Katta could not quell her fear.

The top deck remained absent of crew members, waves lapping against the hull and the random creak of wood the only sounds. How odd; sailing on the Loose Ducky, she had watched the pirates care for the ship day and night. They had tasks to complete, even when docked, to ensure seaworthiness. To have an empty vessel, no evidence of sailors . . . when would someone come to check on it?

She stared at the shore; no one but guards strolled around in the area beyond the docks. She noted more than one glanced at the ship and hurried their step, and she pondered if they, too, felt uneasy. Perhaps that explained why no one remained onboard; the guards had orders to patrol it, and they refused.

Likely, Katta said. One would have to be emotionally numb to ignore the warnings.

She would love emotional numbness to cocoon her right then.

It isn’t pleasant, he agreed. I haven’t felt a warped, decaying gloam like this since the Beast passed into the Void. It’s difficult to describe the depths of his villainy, and while this spell doesn’t hold his animosity, there is something similar underpinning it all.

Well, if the guards unease convinced them to stay away, she wouldn’t have to worry about them discovering her nosing about where she shouldn’t be.

Applauding her foray into positivity, she reached the wheelhouse, stared at her terrified reflection in the windows, and froze.

Darkness coated her, warm, protective, safe. I’m with you, Katta whispered. She tore her gaze from the bleak glass, absorbing what she could of his strength and courage, trying not to whimper and embarrass herself.

Fear is a legitimate reaction to this place, Katta reminded her. Something sinister lurks within, but I won’t let it harm you. A greyish purple wisp drifted from her and hovered near the door; she floated to it, and the Touch slid it open a crack. She froze again, expecting a rush of even worse air to escape, but everything remained the same.

Mentally choking on her growing anxiety and terror, but unwilling to disappoint the syimlin, she slipped through the narrow gap and into the wheelhouse.

Something coated the windows, allowing light from the docks to bathe the equipment while preventing prying eyes from peeking in. The ship’s wheel and navigation panel looked as they aught, and the sleek plastic seating and metal computer consoles bolted to the floor reminded her of modern Talin boats rather than Evenacht ones. Considering the wooden exterior, she expected an older look. The place was clean, too; no log, no writing instruments, a mug, or anything that indicated someone worked there.

A wall with a sliding door stood between her and the room beyond. No lock or other mechanism prevented entry; the wisp again slid the door open a fingertip’s width. Wrapping what she could of Katta’s Touch around her, she wafted to it.

Scritch scritch.

She whirled. Flicks of darkness zinged back and forth, scraping against the equipment. She spun, attempting to fully see what menaced her, but only caught glimpses from the corners of her eyes as yellowish dock light bounced off the aspects before they blended with the darker shadows. Quivers racing through her, she planted her back against the wall next to the first door.

Stay still, Katta said.

She froze, only her eyes darting from a glint at the wheel to a flash near the back wall. Dim light reflected off a billowy mist that leaked inside using the crack. The haze stopped opposite her, bubbles rising to the surface and bursting. The second door clicked into place; the bubbles burst, sending fountains of hissy liquid into a shield Katta erected. A streak she had not noticed jerked away from the front of her nose as the stuff sprayed it, and fled through the wall, leaving the metal floor bubbling and popping like boiling water at her feet. It simmered until the final drops slid down the shield, then faded to silence at an agonizingly slow rate.

I sensed no detection spell triggered by entry, Katta told her. But we alerted them.

Them?

Ebonwisps. They’re a rare type of native ghost the Astri employ as guards for their many clan treasures. Levassa hates the abuse, but the Patriarch made them part of the Evenacht Pact, so he can’t do much about them.

The study materials Nolaris gave her did not reference them, and the scant resources she once had access to through the Finder library said nothing about these ebonwisps.

Likely because, outside an Astri vault, you aren’t going to encounter one. Normally.

Did that mean an Astri planted them on the ship? She had seen an evaki earlier, but he did not have the dire sense about him that infected the air in the wheelhouse.

Then there must be another one in the Revenants’ employ. Not surprising; many an Astri smuggle illicit goods because the wealth is worth the risk. Once they have enough funds, they marry well and invest in legit businesses, leaving the underground behind.

BANG!

The second door slammed into its pocket and jiggled before settling. Vantra jerked and thanked her deadness that she did not scream, then slapped her hands over her mouth. Into the opening floated a wheel-sized crimson eye that glowed a muted violet, veins pulsing hard enough to burst. Blobby emissions slid from the top, detached, and vanished in a puff of flame. The cat-like pupil scanned the room before focusing on her.

The eye wobbled to her, agonizingly slow. It hovered at head height, shuddered like pudding, and a long, black finger with a nail the same length pushed through the jiggling pupil. Her tummy dropped as the rest of the hand and lower arm followed; the dessicated flesh clung to the bones as if it were an airtight bag.

The finger drew through the air from her forehead to her neck, not quite scratching Katta’s shield, then curled so the back returned up with a slow stroke. It reached the zenith, paused, then the fingers flared wide and slashed.

CRASH.

The nails missed as the eye jerked away and stared at the doorway. The hand sucked back into the pupil and vanished, leaving a flappy-edged gap. The eye faded into a mist that filtered to the floor, metal bubbling at the Touch.

Vantra tore herself from the wall, her essence throbbing, and reached for the exit. Time to flee!

The door’s still open. Go! Katta commanded.

Go? She didn’t want to go! But, with his voice ringing through her head, she went anyway.

The door rattled, then slammed shut, barely avoiding her essence as she whisked inside. She had done some foolish things in her life, but obeying Darkness right now had to be among the worst.

Thanks, he muttered drily. I’ve formed a reflective coat on the shield. They shouldn’t be able to sense your Sun any longer.

Her emotions tumbled into a rapidly evaporating mental puddle. They tracked her through that link?

They shouldn’t have sensed anything of you. You made yourself as inconspicuous as possible without discorporating, and that included dimming the Sun’s Touch. Yet the enemy noticed.

She hugged herself, attempting to make sense of her spinning thoughts. The Sun. The Sun. They always found her through that link, didn’t they?

The absence of light hit her like a falling boulder, so heavy that she could feel her core tremble and her essence detach from it. With a shing of dread, she grabbed it back. The sensation disappeared; Katta’s work. She set her hands across her breast, frazzled, attempting to recover her crumbling composure.

These spells will drive casual interlopers insane, he told her. Interesting, that they decided they need this protection in their hideout. Who do they suspect will sneak aboard and nose around? The recruits? Anyway, the room is empty of physical obstacles; float straight, you’ll hit another door. That’s where the tether’s base sits—and the enemy.

She shuddered. She did not want to confront the eye again.

The eye was a summoned illusion, but the hand was real. I’m still not quite certain how they reached through it to attack. The spell’s based on the same fast travel technique we syimlin use, but despite the smaller scale, the amount of energy it takes to accomplish even that means they have access to magic power far exceeding the typical Evenacht resident.

Did that mean they were a deity too? Despite her growing reluctance, she reminded herself Katta’s shield would keep her safe from the most persistent divine. Instead of fleeing, she wafted forward and halted only when he gently tugged at her mind.

Whatever happened after the crash, the protections around the urn fizzled out for a moment. Mica already grabbed it. You don’t have to continue, but I need your help. There is something beyond that I must investigate, and it will be simpler if I work through you. If you agree, phase through the wall then stick to it. Hopefully nothing attacks before we gather our bearings.

She did not want to stay! But he asked. If something lay beyond that concerned him so greatly, then it might prove a danger to Laken’s Redemption and those who aided her with it. Betrayed by the need to protect those close to her, she agreed. She would ignore the tears leaking down her cheeks and pretend she had more than a drop’s worth of courage left.

Feeling as wrung as a swimmer’s towel, she floated nearer, nearer. Three attempts later, she finally forced herself through the wood.

Her essence crawled. Did she imagine a thousand tiny but deathly corrupted Touches picking at her? Nothing would bypass Katta’s shielding, and she chanted the words as a mantra as she phased into a space lit by a subtle green.

A tri-legged metal pole with a lantern had fallen, glass and glowing rocks scattered across the wooden floor, crossing a square gouged into the planks. To the side lay the body of a rufang in a serious state of decay, enough so Vantra’s emotions cratered. What happened to him, to cause such a state? Had the glowy rocks burned him?

Tattoos covered his beaked head, humanoid upper torso and cat-like lower one, glowing with an odd ashy gleam against the fur, outlining the corpse in a—

The pattern. The pattern! She’d seen that before!

Yes, Katta whispered, ugly disgust and condemnation rocking her. A Wiiv. A cayzreol.

Cayzreol. Where had she heard that term?

It’s an Elfiniti-specific word for an undead being whose ghost still resides in the corpse. The connection prevents the spirit from entering their evening land, and the body from decaying. It most commonly applies to the drowned, but any unlucky soul can suffer the same fate.

He looked pretty decayed to her!

No, that’s magic damage. Study the body. What do you sense?

She shuddered, repulsed, as she cautiously extended her Touch. With a whimper, she jerked back. He felt like the residue at Kjivendei!

Yes. This happened to the Wiiv surrounding the crater after the portal exploded; the bodies died but the ghosts remained trapped within. Some were disoriented, unmoving, and Levassa gathered them. Some fled into the forest, became lost in the Labyrinth. And at least one is here.

But how? Wouldn’t someone have noticed a thief taking bodies?

Considering the chaos, if they kidnapped them in the immediate aftermath, no. How many beings have they taken? He pulled back as she staggered, his fury adding to her own disbelief, sick revulsion, and anger. When he returned, she noted a shield around his thoughts to filter the emotions.

Are you up to saving the ghost?

Yes.

The floor flickered, and a blue glow flared into existence within the square’s lines, intercepted the body, and the flesh burned. Vantra lunged, flipped Physical, and grabbed a hind leg, pulling him from blocking the connection.

The ends joined, and new lines shot from the inner corners then angled into another square. Inside the smaller shape sat a chunk of scoria, acidic blue flames burning within the holes. The smoke coalesced into a shadowy thread that phased through the floor—probably back to the urn’s shields.

She set the leg down but could not sense the ghost within.

The contamination hides his Ether Touch, Katta said. I don’t know their language, so I can’t warn him. This will be a shock to him when we yank him out. Hold him tight, and I’ll get you out of there.

Shuffling echoed through the room. A squat, rust-robed figure hustled from the darkness, wringing shrunken hands. The alteration struck Vantra as something a ghost would do to make their appearance more terrifying, rather than the rail-thin figure of a living being. They looked over at the Wiiv and froze mid-step.

Katta snagged her essence, reached in, and jerked the spirit from the body.

The enemy shrieked in fury, the sound vibrating the air and jiggling the lantern and stone. The effect tickled over Vantra’s shielding but could not sink in; not so for the ghost she held. The spirit screamed in unison and tore from her grasp, phasing through the starboard wooden wall.

Oh no! The newly deceased normally took days to figure out how to travel through solid objects! She triggered Ether Touch and shot after him.

The corrupted boards dug into her shields, tearing streaks in the protection, but she entered the cavern before they could cause serious damage. The poor Wiiv ghost leaked essence as he rushed towards the light, enough so he might discorporate. If his ashes fell into the water, the gentle waves would easily break them apart and send him to the Void. He deserved Judgement from Levassa and a chance at his own evening lands, not a quick trip into nothingness.

Rust-flavored Light bloomed behind her. Sickened by the foulness infusing the spell, she sped after the Wiiv, her experience as a ghost aiding her in catching up to him despite his fear-induced quickness. Darkness shields spun around him as a billowy ball struck; it burst and showered the water, the surface sizzling at each droplet.

The terrified ghost shrieked louder.

He reached the docks as a bell frantically clanged. Three guards rushed to him, then more poured out of the tunnels. All wore uniforms, too, so they must patrol the entire cave system, not just this cavern. But why so many? And at night, when living beings snuggled down for sleep and ghosts sat around fountains, recharging?

Another strike knocked the Wiiv from the air, and he landed on the rocky ground, missing a dunking by a foot-length. The guards threw their weapons and Vantra spun Sun shields to intercept the spears; they caught fire but did not burn. Despite trailing smoke as they tumbled down, by the time they hit the stone, no flames remained.

More than one guard joined their ghostly attacker in flinging fiery magic strikes at them, intending to shatter the shields.

The Wiiv screamed, surged forward, smacked into her added defense, and fell, sobbing. Poor ghost. How horrible, for them to treat him that way? And she did not have time for comfort, if she wished to save him.

“Please, I’m here to help,” she said, not surprised he did not appear to understand her. She formed her fingers into hooks, wrapped her arms around Katta’s shield, and dug in.

Her Sun shields shattered and a mangled Light spell pelted the Darkness protections surrounding them. She caught the furious visage of the evaki as he constructed another attack. The belt to his bathrobe fell and the hem tangled with his feet, disrupting his stride and casting; purplish-grey smoke snaked around her and the Wiiv, and the cavern disappeared.