“You shouldn’t trust me,” Silas confirmed in a deep, dangerous voice. “With that said, would you prefer to have me as a half-assed friend or an absolute foe?”
Fenlon looked between Silas and Ranger X. He glanced at his own buddies who were mere shrimps in comparison to his size.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, a sudden idea dawning on me. “You want to arrest me, Fenlon? I’ll go with you willingly after I complete one task.”
Ranger X and Silas were both shaking their heads. “No, you won’t.”
“I need to complete the Procession of Spirits,” I said. “Souls are trapped on this island. They’re antsy and looking for release to the spirit realm.”
“We don’t do that anymore,” Fenlon said. “That’s an ancient Fae Queen practice.”
“So we both agree that if I can release the spirits, then I’m the true Fae Queen?” I met Fenlon’s gaze. “You said it yourself.”
Fenlon looked like he wanted to swallow his tongue. He’d walked right into that one. “I mean—”
“Better yet, it’s entirely possible the three fishermen’s souls are trapped here on the island. If that’s true, maybe they can tell us who killed them.”
Fenlon looked at me in disbelief. “That’s… far-fetched.”
“Then you don’t mind making the deal,” I said. “Leave me be for now. Let the Rangers run the tests on my dagger. Let me try the Procession of Spirits tonight. If it turns out that my dagger killed the fishermen in the meantime, I’ll come with you without an argument.”
Fenlon didn’t have much of a choice. “Fine.”
Fenlon backed away with his pack of comrades. I took a deep, shuddering breath. His early morning visit had rocked my confidence. Obviously, I knew I hadn’t killed anyone, but it wasn’t fun being accused of murder all the same. It also wasn’t exactly a joy to hand over my dagger to Ranger X, even though his eyes were flooded with sympathy.
“Sorry,” Ranger X said softly. “I tried to stop him, but I was caught up at the scene with the bodies when he slipped away.”
“Do you have any idea why the fishermen were murdered?” I asked. “Stabbed?”
“It’s likely a sacrifice,” Silas said quietly. “Three fishermen. The Triskelion Sigil. He’s preparing to open the veil between worlds.”
“What veil?”
“The Darkest Lord has been manipulating people in our world for years. It takes a human to genetically and magically alter the kraken and the lycanthrope. That’s not something they can do in the spirit realm. But he can only control so much from a distance; the Darkest Lord has a formidable spirit army. If the veil between their world and ours is opened, the fight will be… more fair than I care to admit.”
“What sort of sacrifice is needed?” I asked. “The souls of the fishermen?”
“The blood of three innocents,” Silas said. “There’s a ritual I’ve heard of that takes years to prepare. This is part of it. For centuries, people believed it was impossible—but only because it’s never been done before.”
“Is it impossible?”
“Like I said, it’s never been managed yet,” Silas said. “But I have to think everything is leading up to it. The Darkest Lord must think, for whatever reason, this is his time to try. That he might have a hope of success.”
“Do you know what else is needed for the spell?”
Silas shook his head. “I only know bits and pieces. This is obviously a very illegal spell which likely can’t be found in any normal textbook. I’ve only heard rumors.”
“We might have access to it,” Ranger X said. “We have some books on heavy lockdown in our archives. The dangerous, the deadly. I’ll see if I can unearth anything, but it’s possible a spell this size was banished even from our archives.”
“Doesn’t hurt to look,” I said. “The more information we have, the better.”
“The blood needs to be fresh,” Silas said in a low voice. “For the sacrifice.”
“Fresh?”
“In order for the spell to work, the blood has to be fresh.” Silas cleared his throat as we understood his implication.
“You mean,” I whispered, “if he’s going to try, he’ll try soon.”
