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I waited for her instructions.
After a moment, she began to hum…a long tone, haunting and distant, and then it became a melody, weaving in and around the room, encircling and braiding its way through the air.
Ulean, what is she doing?
She is calling on the spirits. Her voice is the lure, baiting them to come to her aid. The ancestor spirits, they do not give help freely. They must be wooed, persuaded. Sometimes cajoled. And then they exact a price—there is always a price to pay when sourcing the spirits.
That frightens me. Will she be all right?
Time will tell, but there is no stopping the ritual now. She has cracked the portal; she cannot close it at this point.
I focused my attention on Luna again, watching for any sign that she might be in trouble. I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but she would tell me when it was time.
Outside, the sky had clouded over, dark and thick, and now, with a crack of thunder, snow lightning lit up the air, and then huge flakes of snow began to swirl down in a frenzied dance. The lightning flashed again, the low rumble of thunder making me want to jump. My nerves were on edge; I felt raw as flesh stripped from muscle, like a swarm of bees were grazing my skin with their stingers. Shivering now, I struggled to remain still, to not disturb Luna’s trance.
And then a soft whoosh swept though the room and something was there, with us, in the Circle. A presence, weighing down on my shoulders, thickening the air till it was so dense that I couldn’t catch my breath.
But Luna didn’t seem to notice. She was bent over the table, her gaze focused on the crystal ball. Her hands barely cupped its sides as a thin mist began to swirl inside the crystal, and then it rose out of the ball to filter into the room.
It was viscous now, and my lungs worked at a ragged pace. I’d never experienced asthma before, except for the anaphylaxis when I got hold of fish, but this was all too reminiscent of the latter. I gasped, unable to force enough air into my lungs. I couldn’t tell if the others were suffering, but then Luna brought her head up, her gaze locking mine, and I realized that it wasn’t Luna looking at me, but someone else, from behind her eyes.
“Whom do you seek?” The voice that echoed out of her cut to the bone, vibrating far too deep to be her own. It was masculine, smooth but forceful, and as each word reverberated into existence, it echoed for a moment, then was gone as if someone had snatched it away.
As the question hung there, I realized it had been aimed at me. I tried to calm myself so I wouldn’t stumble over my words.
“I need to find my cousin Rhiannon, the Summer Queen.” I wasn’t sure whether to go on and explain what had happened, but my lips pressed shut, and it occurred to me that whoever I was talking to, he might just have a broader vista of knowledge than I did. If he needed me to elaborate, he would ask.
Apparently, the spirit did not. After a moment, the voice boomed out through the room again. “Look where time strikes in the heart of the village. Look for the dungeons deep within the ground.”
We had a poet on our hands, apparently. I waited, again unsure about whether I should say anything else. And then there was an uneasy laugh, and Luna stiffened, her eyes glowing with a pale blue fire.
“There are secret ways in, through the alleys and down into the streets. Be cautious, for the creatures from the heart of the world walk there, emerging from their lairs, and even the blood-drinkers fear them and steer toward the light.”
And then, with another sigh, Luna’s mouth opened and the spirit spoke once more. “Daughter of the son of the son of my daughter…this one is talented and can speak for the dead…and so she shall.”
With another whoosh, the presence rose out of Luna in a visible cloud and vanished from sight. Luna collapsed on the table, almost knocking over the candle. I grabbed it before it fell, managing to keep it alight. Ysandra hurried to Luna’s side. She felt for Luna’s pulse, then motioned for me to blow out the candle.
“Lights—one of you outside the Circle turn on the lights, and bring us some water and brandy if you have any in the house.” Ysandra leaned Luna back.
Luna was unconscious, but she was murmuring something, and Ysandra slapped her gently across the cheeks. Luna began to open her eyes. “Here, you stand beside her, make sure she doesn’t fall out of her chair while I open the Circle and bring her the brandy.”
As I quickly obeyed, my mind flew to the spirit’s words. Look where time strikes in the heart of the village…What did that mean?
As Peyton stepped into the now-opened Circle and handed Ysandra the bottle of brandy and a glass, she caught my attention.
“I know where he’s keeping her,” she said. “I know what the riddle is referring to. The clock tower—the one across from where they killed Rex. They’re hiding beneath the Abby Theater.”
“Crap! You’re right—you have to be!” I wanted to run off, to head out and rescue my cousin right this instant, but first we had to take care of Luna.
At that moment, she began to come around as Ysandra held the brandy to her lips, dribbling a few drops into her mouth. A moment later, she blinked and Ysandra motioned for her to hush, to say nothing, but to finish the drink.
After a few minutes, in which we all waited, tensely, Luna cleared her throat, and when she spoke, it sounded almost as if she had laryngitis.
“What…I don’t remember anything about what happened. Did we get an answer? Did anyone come through?”
Ysandra stared at her, a grave look on her face. “Yes, one of your ancestors most definitely managed to speak through you, and we have our answer as to where to look. But Luna…”
Luna paled. “What is the price? Did they say what the price will be?”
