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NINE
Alys
I took a slow exhalation of breath to help calm me and cast my memory back to start mentally cataloging the kinds of spirits that must have been used in these rituals. I guessed spirits of the air for several that had arrived on a whirlwind, while the female who’d left frost in her wake probably held a spirit of winter. My theory was that they could shift between the two forms, and that was why some still appeared to be Ridden.
There was plenty of time to think. As the sun crept west, the creatures of the forest crept out and sound returned. I risked pulling my water bottle out for a much-needed drink of water. Composing the report in my head gave me something to do and allowed me to mull over what I’d seen. I didn’t want to move until after dark, when the people inside the hospital were less likely to see me and more likely to mistake me for an animal.
Thanks be that Walker wasn’t here. I was pretty sure he’d been hurrying to try to accompany me on this mission, but I didn’t think he could have stood by while the girl was taken. I hated myself for doing it, too, valuing my life over hers, but I’d long ago accepted I was not a hero.
Why hadn’t any of the spirits warned me about this? Were they aware? They gossiped, yes, but if the Ridden were careful only to take weak spirits, and this area didn’t have many that were intelligent, it could have gone unnoticed. Or they just hadn’t, for some inscrutable spirit reason.
They weren’t human and sometimes what they did made no sense to us. A frightening thought crept through my head: if the spirits being used in the ritual were willing, then they were making common cause with the Ridden against humans. If they were unwilling, I didn’t know it would impact the Compact. It said humans would not compel, but was a Ridden human in the spirit’s eyes?
I added that speculation to the report. Silver’s hair was already white, so it wouldn’t do him any harm. As of this moment, anyone could be a Ridden, based on what I’d just seen. My gut felt like it was full of rocks, and I needed to do something, anything, to stop thinking about it.
An hour after sunset, I climbed down slowly, keeping to the side of the tree that faced away from the hospital, every sense alert for signs of the mage-Ridden. I spent the next hour using every ounce of stealth I had, flitting from cover to cover, working my way away from the hospital.
Jumping at every shadow and owl hoot wasn’t fun, but I got away safe. I had good night sight, so once I was far enough away to relax my guard a little I pulled out the map and oriented myself to the old hospital. I’d comm once I had a look at it. Of all the places Silver had told me to investigate, it had the best cover and was furthest from the mansion. I was betting the mansion was where the detection gear was.
If I commed from there and circled toward the mansion, I should avoid any patrol sent out to investigate. And If I were discovered, I had my cover, much good that it would do me if they were feeding people to the Ridden.
It took a long time to reach the old hospital. I didn’t relax either my vigilance or my stealth, not that I now knew Ridden haunted the forests. In my head, I rewrote and revised the report, to minimize the time I kept the comm on when I sent it. I didn’t want them to find me through my electronic signature.
The closer I came to the old hospital, the more uncommon the animal and insect life. That happened sometimes with the great summonings, the left-behind magic saturated the land. Given it was a wendigo that had been summoned, nothing wanted to stay in the area to be eaten, even if it had long ago left. The effect faded with time and one day it would be fully repopulated again.
The trees thinned around the building’s ruins. Pausing, I surveyed the area while still under cover.
Weathered beams, still showing charred marks, were visible in what remained of the basement. A few stones shone glossy and flat in the moonlight. I circled the building, keeping to the trees, searching for anything physical that might remain from a ritual carried out a decade ago.
The lack of even insect life this close disturbed me. After ten years, there should be some, not this utter lack. If it had been that powerful of a summoning circle, echoes of the power might remain detectable. I took off a glove, stooped, and brushed my hand on the soil.
Nothing. I repeated the action, moving in a slow circle, focusing on the feel of the ground, since there was no life here.
Terror, desperation, and agony rolled over me like an avalanche on the Western side. I staggered and fell to my knees. Many had died here, hard. From the magic tangled with their emotions, I guessed they had been used to provide power for summonings, though my opinion wouldn’t hold up in court. That would need a forensic mage.
I forced my eyes open so I could see the area rather than feel it, struggling with an emotional miasma that struck me like a fist. Just an innocuous cleared area near what had been the front of the building, not a blood-soaked grave.
I shivered, hands splayed on the ground.
“What do you sense here?” A light voice asked, loud in the stillness.
I fell on my ass, trying to spin to my feet, knife in one hand. I hadn’t been paying attention, and I hoped I wasn’t about to die stupid.
A young woman stood behind me about fifteen feet away, attended by a pair of hairy child-sized people. Other shadows further back into the trees indicated full-sized people, though I couldn’t make out any details.
I reached out toward the group of them with my talent, searching for the chill sensation I got from Ridden. The hairy people felt like spirits, the girl like a human and I couldn’t get a sense of what was further back. Either the distance or a ward was blocking me.
My muscles shook from adrenaline, and my voice cracked when I answered. “So many deaths. Who are you?”
She stepped closer. A familiar face; a grown-up version of the girl pictured in Tuuli Lahtinen’s dossier. Relief washed over me. Probably not an enemy, and if I could persuade her to leave with me, the witness we needed. Though if she’d been taken in by spirits, she might not be willing to leave. It happens every once in a while, I’d read cases.
“I’m Tuuli. This is a place people shouldn’t go.” She swayed, almost dancing, to music only she could hear.
Confirmed, good. I didn’t sense hostility, but neither did her emotions feel friendly. Guarded and neutral, which made sense if she’d been hiding in these woods for a decade. I phrased my next comment carefully. “I serve one of the Judges, who feels you were treated badly. Would you be willing to tell me what happened here? Who the people I sense were?”
“How do I know you’re not Ridden? They can look like normal people, you know.” A tinge of mockery shaded the words. The spirits at her side glanced up at her, their body language surprised, if I read it right.
Uh huh. I was in a creepy wood where lots of human sacrifices had taken place, I’d found the victim who’d tried to whistle-blow on it, and she’d decided to make fun of me. I got the crap that other people had earned. Lovely. At least while I could sense mockery, her emotions had shifted to slightly more friendly. I’d work with it.
