“Raye, I call to you,” she whispered.
Her call was met with silence. Erinna grunted, reaching further into the cold.
“Raye, I call to you,” she forced out through clenched teeth. The chill beneath her skin stung. It started with her fingers and worked to her core. Her Talent lapped at whatever warmth it could take, and Erinna let it. There was ringing in her ears and a lancing pain in her marked forearm.
Deeper. Dig deeper.It was like searching through dirt and sludge to find a clear thread, anything to pull. Exhaustion hazed her vision, and Erinna cursed the muting effects of Ionian tea.
Her heart beat rapidly as her body numbed against the feeling. Sweat built on her brow, and a tightness clenched at her throat and heart.
“For the love of the Mother Goddess, Raye, answer me!” she growled the command. This would be the last attempt. Erinna couldn’t hold on much longer.
“S….Ple…Bre…”
Erinna nearly thought it was a trick of the wind until a shadowy figure of a man flickered before her. She took in a gasp of air, unaware of her held breath. Faint whisps of light moved in concert with shadow.
“Took…a...while...” She heard the voice in her head, a lilting baritone. His features were dulled and faded, but Erinna could make out the figure—a middle-aged man, slim, tall, and still garbed in the muted orange of old scholars. He was struggling to remain partially corporeal.
Erinna rubbed at her arms in an effort to warm herself but couldn’t hold back the shivers. Raye held out a spectral finger and pointed at the ground in front of her. “Take…the gift,” hesaid, and Erinna followed his orders. She dug up the old treasure and waited for the next steps, teeth still chattering.
“Go.” Raye pointed to the house, his voice straining as if he would fade at any second. The spirit flickered and dimmed.
Erinna hurried as quickly as she could, back into the groundskeeper’s home, stumbling slightly across the threshold. The lamp swung around the room, casting odd, moving shadows. She looked around for the spirit, praying it had not yet left.
Shadow and light moved once again as Raye flickered into focus. “Fire…burn.” Erinna scurried to the large fireplace, gathering any loose wood she could find, and placed it on the cracked brick. In one quick movement, she coaxed the flame from the lantern to the pile of wood, and soon the fireplace was alive once more. The warmth of the flame was welcomed.
“Burn…”
Erinna threw the gift into the flame, and as the material cracked with heat, Raye blinked out. Erinna was left alone, next to a fireplace, cold and defeated. With no energy left, she let the black void of sleep pull her under, at least grateful to have the heat of a fire on her back.
Chapter
Thirty-Two
“Wake, gravewitch.”
Erinna couldn’t place the voice. A dream, then. But warmth wrapped around her, real and solid, and the voice held no cruel edge. Not the Weeping Queen. Someone else.
“Wake, gravewitch,” the voice repeated, and this time Erinna had enough sense to claw her way to consciousness. Raye stood in front of her as she scrambled to get herself upright. How long had she been out? Was this just part of the dream? She shook tired, doubtful thoughts from her head.
“Raye?” she asked the spirit of the old monk. He was stronger now, she could tell. His form was still somewhat translucent, but his features were sharper, his voice stronger.
The spirit nodded. “Yes, I have been trying to contact you for a while.”
Erinna rubbed the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry. “You’ve been trying to contact me? I’ve been trying to contact you.”
“I noticed. You are highly untrained.”
Erinna closed her eyes to fight an oncoming headache. “Was it you who helped me? With the door?”
“Of course it was me. No one else would have been able to cross the Realm Beyond for such an untrained gravewitch.”
Erinna’s brows furrowed. “I’m an aberrant. Why do you call me a gravewitch?” There was no use hiding her secret; it was painfully obvious.
Raye made a low, disapproving sound. For a moment, he said nothing. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, heavy. “I see. So we lost.” He drew a slow breath. “I call you a gravewitch because that is what you are—a seer of souls, a walker of two worlds.” Another pause, darker now. “How many of you remain?”
There were more like her? Erinna couldn’t stop the shock from rolling over her. “I don’t know anyone else like me.”
A shadow crossed Raye’s face.
