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“So long as it isn’t one of the souls who has passed through the veil already, it should answer my call.” My stomach tightens at the thought of what my request will do to these poor souls, but it’s the only way.
Picking up the hand, I wrap my power around it and feel the greedy tug of the Bone Man, hungry to consume my power. I resist the pull and instead latch on to the monster, and hundreds of souls burst to life within my mind.
I focus on the bones I hold, summoning the soul they belong to, and sense an awareness turn toward me, a single being out of the hundreds in pain.
Drawn by my command, the soul pulls free. The Bone Man fights to keep it, but my power proves stronger, and the soul chases the line of my magic back to where I stand.
A startled gasp brings my eyes open to find the spirit of a woman crouched in front of me. She couldn’t have been over sixteen when she died, her red hair pulled back from a youthful face covered in freckles.
A white nightgown drapes her body, the clothes she died in, and blood pours from a gaping wound across her stomach. It pools over the desk and flows over the edge, only to vanish before it hits the floor.
Her voice echoes from a distance, filled with hope and longing as she reaches out to me. “Have you come at last to take me through the veil?”
My heart squeezes painfully. “What’s your name?”
“Isolde Berdherst.” She looks around the room without seeing it. “I was with my father. He took me somewhere, and now there is only pain.”
Tears sting my eyes as I hold out the hand. “Isolde Berdherst, I command you to find those linked to you in sacrifice. Bring them here.”
“No!”The word pierces through the air before her ghost vanishes.
Johannsson stares at the space where the girl had crouched only a second ago. “What just happened?”
“I sent her to find the others.” The words feel numb on my lips. “We should get the hammer ready.”
“For what?” Johannsson’s gaze jumps from me to Xander and Reese’s grim expressions. “What are you going to do to that girl?”
“The only thing wecando.” Xander opens a drawer in his desk, pulls out a toolbox, and opens it to withdraw a hammer. “We’re going to bind their spirits to their bones and use this one as a representation of them all. Destroying this hand, with the spirits locked inside, will destroy the rest at the same time.”
Johannsson shakes his head. “You can’t do that. They’re innocent victims.”
“You can wait outside if you don’t want to watch.” Xander passes a black Sharpie to Reese, who takes it and gets to work drawing out the spell.
“These people already died,” I tell him, shoving aside my personal feelings on the matter. “Their souls are living in torment. This is a better end than what they’re going through right now.”
Before he can protest further, Isolde reappears, bringing the others with her. They stand one on top of the other, flickering in and out of view, hundreds of ghosts, all ranging in age from toddler to teenager. All people whose lives were cut off too soon, and whose sacrifice continues to demand more from them.
Setting the hand just outside the spell drawn on the paper, Xander, Reese, and I press our fingertips to the outer ring. Golden light fills the lines, then rises from the desk, encircling the ghosts, whose voices echo their fear through the room.
With a silent apology, I bind their souls together, creating a firmer link than what existed before, then cast them outward, sending them to find their bones.
Isolde is the last to move through the circle, sinking into the bone on the desk.
Xander sweeps the paper with the spell to the side, and I lift the bone hand.
I can feel the Bone Man trying to pull her back to him, but my summoning holds strong, trapping her here.
Isolde’s soul reaches out to me, afraid, and I silently reassure her that the pain will end soon.
Then I place the hand in the middle of the desk, and Xander brings down the hammer, shattering it into pieces. Through my connection with Isolde, I watch her light snuff out, along with all the others linked to her.
Silently, Reese sweeps the fragments up, and we carry them to the forge out back of the Conservatory.
Johannsson crosses himself and mumbles a prayer as Reese slides the fragments into the fire, and we watch them burn.
When it’s over, Johannsson clears his throat. “Did it work?”
I nod, my voice thick. “Yes, it worked.”
