I close my eyes, reaching out with senses beyond sight. Dark tendrils wrap around Davina's free will, pulsing with malevolent intent.
To find a starting point is my first hurdle. The magic is strong, and the spell is both vicious and seamless.
"There really isn't anything to unweave. I can't find any loose ends or anything to tug. It's like it's embedded right into her essence."
"After ten years, it likely is." Wylder sets a hand on my shoulder, and a warm rush of healing energy floods through me and into my hands. "Does this help?"
I'm not sure if it helps with my workings, but it helps me. Wylder's plant affinity brings a healing vibrance to his magical signature.
It is growth and potential. And it's grounding.
Together, we work until I finally find a little edge of the binding spell to pick at. It's slow work, but eventually, the little edge becomes the tail of a loose thread.
"Okay, I'm going to start unweaving it now." Mom said this will be painful, so I'm extra gentle and give just the tiniest of tugs.
Davina writhes—I can't hear her scream, but I feel it ripple through the spirit realm. Her form convulses beneath my touch, agony written across her features.
"I'm so sorry," I breathe, backing off.
"I warned you this would hurt," Mom grits out. "Keep at it or be done with it.”
I check-in with Davina. Even with tears in her eyes and pain rippling from her in waves, she nods. Wincing, I pull again. I try not to stop when she recoils and work past it.
The threads of the binding spell seem to have a will of their own. They resist my efforts, digging deeper into Davina's essence.
She's flickering now, fading in and out like a dying light bulb.
Wylder's hand tightens on my shoulder.
"Enough, Poppy,” Mom says. “You're getting nowhere, and she's in agony. Her spirit essence won't survive what needs to be done to break the spell."
She's right. I’ve only just begun to undo this spell, and Davina can barely hold her form, distorting with pain.
"I'm sorry." I drop my hands. "I'm so sorry."
The ghost sags, exhausted, but her eyes meet mine, and there's understanding there. She knows I tried.
Mom drifts back, looking shaken. "Whoever cast that spell knew what they were doing. It's designed to cause maximum pain if tampered with."
Which means someone really doesn't want Davina talking.
I look at this girl—a young woman who likely suffered through ten years of some heinous witch plot Laurel's involved in and think of my sisters.
If this were Lily or Violet in front of me, I wouldn't want them to suffer any more than they already had.
"Let me help you cross over." The words hurt to say. "I can guide you to the Goddess Mother's realm. You'll finally be at peace."
Davina shakes her head violently.
"You're in pain," I insist gently. "You've helped us today even if you couldn't tell us what we need to know. Now it's time for you to rest and join your ancestral powers."
She wavers, conflict playing across her ghostly features. Then, slowly, she nods.
I reach for the deepest part of my spirit magic, the purest energy that connects to the souls and spirits caught between worlds.
Davina's spirit begins to calm, her desperation eases, her terror fades.
Light blooms around us, warm, golden, and infinite. The light flares, and Davina's form dissolves into it, at last finding the peace she so desperately deserves.
