We were late to the spirit raising because Ranth wouldn’t stop exploring the car’s functions.
“What does this do?” had turned me into a mom with a toddler. My new catchphrase was, “Stop touching that.” We reached the graveyard at the crest of dusk, my favorite spring hour when the golden light thins and fades. Usually, it gave me a burst of clarity, but tonight I was questioning my sanity. The sun was already sinking behind towering eucalyptus trees which shadowed the only other car in the lot. I had everything planned for the raising, but Ranth was the one element I couldn’t predict.
I turned the engine off. “I’d really like you to stay here—in the car,” I said to Ranth.
“No. I’m coming. You’ll be outside, and you’ll be…”
“Unprotected? You weren’t going to say that, right?” I didn’t need a cursed ancient wizard with an attitude to look out for me. But I had to admit we fought the Essifers well together. He had serious skill. Still, this was my client and my reputation. “I really don’t need you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “It isn’t about need. I should come with you because you can’t anticipate the unknown, and you shouldn’t diminish the value of my experience because of your pride.”
“Ouch.” It did hurt, but he had me there. “Fine, but stay out of the ritual like we discussed. Promise?”
“Is that your favor?”
“No. It’s a nice thing you are going to do for me, for free. Got it?” I opened the door of Mrs. Finnegan’s silver Nissan.
He gave me awhateverlook, which made me want to mildly hex him.
I eyed him warily as he followed me around the car. The lavender polar fleece jacket I’d given him, I used as a top layer for winter camping. On me, it was six sizes too big. On him, it looked like doll’s clothing, but it was warmer than the alternative—and it covered the T-shirt.
The Carters got out of their car and approached us as I popped the back hatch to get my kit.
“Hi, I’m Sorrel, and you must be…”
“Denise, and this is Richard. Thanks so much for doing this for us.” Denise was a petite woman with pixie-cut brown hair. Her husband was a head taller, and they looked up at Ranth as if he were a giant but not a death-skeleton, so that was a win.
I offered Denise a hand, curious about her energy. I wasn’t getting any particular aura of grief, which was weird, but maybe she was in denial. “I’m glad to help, really. Sorry for your loss.”
“You really shouldn’t say that…” Ranth started, and I elbowed him where the Carters wouldn’t see.
“He means that I shouldn’t talk about losses here in hallowed grounds. This is my partner Ranth… Bay. He’s an expert at handling—dirt.” I pulled a shovel out of the hatch and thrust it at Ranth’s chest. He glared at me, and I happily ignored him.
“Can you show us the gravesite?” I asked, grabbing my basket.
I switched on my flashlight, even though we didn’t really need the light yet, then followed the clients into the graveyard. The swinging beacon was part of my centering ritual, though my focus was shot with Ranth trailing after us.
Mounded dirt covered with flowers marked the fresh grave. Raising their son’s spirit to answer questions should take almost no effort. The earth has a deep pull. Some call working with earth dark or death magic, but it really isn’t either. It’s not the spirits you have to worry about. It’s the pull of the plane that holds them. It was safer to raise the dead when the light was fading but before it was completely dark.
Denise handed me a signet ring previously worn by her son Billy, who she wanted me to connect with. I palmed the ring and directed Ranth to stay out of the way. He nodded and crossed his arms while I poured the outer salt line. I glanced over at him, and my heart froze. He was back to the specter I’d seen in my workshop. Why did salt allow me to see him this way?
“Might I be of assistance?” Ranth asked, crouching down. His brows knitted like he’d noticed I was momentarily afraid of him.
“We need five holes at even points around the grave. Dig here but don’t cross the line with your feet.” I forced a smile, pointing at the ground. It might actually be nice to have help for a change. I held on to that.
Ranth paused, as if he was going to question why, but silently, he hefted the shovel and turned over the earth.
“That’s perfect,” I said, taking the first vial from my basket and kneeling beside the hole. I dumped in my special blend of pulverized wormwood, dandelion, sunflower, and a pinch of saffron. “Okay, that’s one. Next one is here.” I pointed again, and Ranth turned over the dirt, but his lips puckered like he was chewing something unpleasant. I repositioned, crouching over the hole with the spell bottle.
That’s when I smelled it.
A sulfuric acid odor mixed with bitter ash and damp earth.
The smell drowned me in fear. I swallowed and leaned back on my heels, glancing surreptitiously around.
Ranth met my eyes. I shook my head, hoping the Carters weren’t noticing the glitches. Whatever the smell meant, I had to hurry and get this done. Once I’d started, I couldn’t leave the spell open because it could wreak all kinds of havoc. Like the time I’d forgotten to fill a hole on Día de Muertos, and the spirit had started raising other spirits in the graveyard. Since then, I wasverycareful to cleanse the circle after I broke it. Clustered spirits were a strong energy force. Not only did I wish to respect the dead, but I was careful of tapping into unwieldy power sources.
Ranth had the fifth hole dug. I dumped the last of the spell elements into the earth to help me connect with the spirit.
