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I got you,that touch said.Do your thing.
Her magic bloomed, then flew. The bottles cracked and their liquids swirled into each other, connecting with her energy until she felt the heave of the grave in front of her. The process had always felt icky, something she and Ruby had vowed to leave alone, but Maureen’s spirit felt like a light balm washing over her.
“Tell me what you see, Maureen, around this area.”
Silence, then a dim voice trickled in her senses.
Pippa. Flowers. Anguish. Love.
She thought she would be the only one to hear it, but Henry’s hand tensing against her skin negated that assumption.
“Anything else, Maureen?” she probed.
Misery. Heartbreak. Pampei.
“He comes here?”
His heartbreak transcends boundaries. His wife will always be his love.
There was no sadness in the voice, but she could imagine how Maureen felt while living with that knowledge. Not wanting to dig deeper, Pearl carefully let her magic fade until the voice was gone and she could no longer feel the spirit’s tug.
“That was…something,” Henry said after a while, looking at her. “You can’t let anyone know about this. Otherwise…”
“It would be thoroughly abused. I know. What’s next?”
This time, it was she who patiently waited until Henry gave his answer.
“My parents. We can start from there and work our way around the rest of the stones.”
The Lyras gravestones were located further up a hill, and surrounded by flowers eternally blooming through passive magic. They navigated around it until they found a blank spot, then restarted the process of planting the vials on the soil and chanting. She focused on William Lyra’s name as her magic flowed once more until she felt his spirit. This one felt stronger than Maureen’s, its core restless.
“Tell me what you see, William—”
There are secrets around you. Be careful. The curse will live on and punish those who deserve it.
Henry’s tension vibrated over hers, connected through the hand still on her. But he didn’t say a word.
“Show us those secrets,” she demanded. “And if there’s a shadow involved…”
The spirit quaked. Her stomach jumped. Instead of words, she felt it tug on her side until she was falling over, but Henry was there to catch her and keep her upright. They glanced at each other, then latched on to the string of light leading away from the hill.
“William, if you could just tell us…”
“He’s telling us,” Henry said, the curiosity shining in his voice. His hand moved from her neck to take her hand, absorbing her energy. He tugged on it once, so she nodded as he led the way down.
They followed the string in silence, hastening when they noticed it fading bit by bit. When it led to a stone mausoleum, Henry entered first. Pearl hesitated outside the doorway until he snapped light into his fingers and she could see better inside.
“Hurry,” he called out.
She hurried in after him just as the last visible string disappeared. Prepared for it, she waved her hands in the air to haul it back into existence—and felt a resisting force that yanked her to the ground. Pain sliced at her knees. Henry let out an enraged sound. She assumed it was at her clumsiness until his hands gently helped her up and his voice soothed.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.”
His energy caressed her knees until the pain faded. Pleasure bloomed, wrapping her in a cozy blanket until she was tangled between disappointment and arousal.
“We lost it.”
“We will try again,” he assured.
