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death.”

Chapter 19

Gather Your Alliances

Obviously, the catacombs aren’t meant for the living. That would sort of defeat the purpose. But the way she said it sent chills down my spine.

“So, what happens if someone who is living enters?” I ask, unable to help myself. “When you say Purgatory, you mean they’ll be trapped between the living and—?”

Abigail’s face is forlorn as she says, “As previously mentioned, there are safeguards to this sacred space. Not all who pass the threshold are taken into Purgatory’s embrace. Some are simply lost until they can find a way out. For others, their price may be much higher.”

“A higher cost than having your soul trapped in Purgatory?” I gape at her. “What could possibly be a higher cost than that?”

She looks over her shoulder at one of the tunnels and half-smiles. “There is much you don’t know about the power coursing through your veins.”

“Then, teach me—explain things to me,” I beg.

“I am…and I will. But you must understand—not everything can be educated with such haste,” she says, reaching out and hovering her hand just above my shoulder, as if unsure whether or not to place it there. After a moment, she pulls her hand back. “What say you to information brought to light of times past when the soulless walked Windhaven?”

I narrow my eyes. “You mean, did we find anything out about the revenants?”

She blinks back at me expectantly.

I raise my eyebrows and clear my throat. “Well, I found out they’re called revenants, for starters. There wasn’t much in the records, but Wade and I did find information pointing back to this happening thirty some odd years ago. They never caught who did it. At least not from the records we read, but…” I stop myself, unsure if I want to mention Wade’s dad’s involvement. Or, suspected involvement, anyway.

Abigail’s head tilts slightly to the side, clearly catching my hesitation.

“But,” I continue, “it hasn’t happened again since. Until now, that is.”

Nodding, Abigail seems appeased by this, but she circles around me. “And what of you? With the soulless arising, have you been afflicted by their presence? Do you sense their beckoning?”

“Afflicted by their presence? Like, are they coming to me?” I say, taking a deep breath and a step back. “You could say that. But sense them? No, not really. Should I be?”

A shiver skitters up my spine at the thought of sensing the revenants.

“They torment you specifically?” Abigail says, concern flashing through her features. “Are you certain?”

I shrug. “Well, sorta. They keep finding me—us, actually.”

“Us?”

I hold her gaze for a moment. “Wade and me.”

Her eyebrows knit together, and she dips her chin.

“Do you know why that is?” I ask.

Abigail’s lips press into a thin line and she clasps her hands behind her back. Taking a few steps from me, her eyes flit around the space. Finally, she says, “You are a beacon for the dead. The stronger your powers grow, the more they will be drawn to you. Your presence is but a bright light in the vast abyss of darkness by which we all adhere.”

“So, you’re saying they find us because I’m a magnet for them?” I say, scratching my forehead.

“Perhaps,” she says, raising a pointer finger in the air. “But the soulless are but empty vessels. They do not possess the qualities of the departed. They are soulless.”

Frowning, I trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “So, if they’re empty vessels, is it just coincidence they find us?”

“Unequivocally…no. They are but adhering to the whispers of their maker,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Their maker… So, someone else is deliberately sending them to me?” I say, my jaw slacking open.

“It would appear to be the case.” She nods. “Who would wish you ill?”

I run my hands over my face. “This makes no sense whatsoever. I have no idea. Honestly, I haven’t really interacted with many people. Those who I have, are friends.”

“Unearthing this treachery must be paramount. You must find the perpetrator and put an end to their unnatural summoning. Then, whatever remains must be brought here to the catacombs to rest. It is the only way to quell their calling.”

“If bringing them here is the only way to stop them, how were we able to stop two of them?” I ask, completely confused.

“I would not be so certain that you did,” she says, casting me a knowing look that makes my skin crawl and my heart race.

Could those revenants reanimate themselves again?

Abigail sighs, walking away from me. When she reaches the archway to where I came from, her fingertips trace the symbols in the stonework. After a moment, she says, “The last time soulless roamed Windhaven—you say thirty years ago…to me, it feels but a blink of the eye…” Her gaze extends to one of the other tunnels before she walks back over to me. “It took the combined efforts of our family, the Gilberts, the Cranes…and another to overcome their torment. Your father, gifted though he may be, did not possess a tenth of the innate ability you bring forth. So, he had to rely on the talents of others.”

The blood drains from my face and I swallow hard. That’s a lot of magical power. Thirty years ago, all of those families were far more skilled than any of us. Even my father has been more in the know than myself.

“I wish Dad was home. He’s gone away and I don’t know when he’ll be back. How am I meant to do this without him? Are you saying we’ll need to round up the Gilberts and Cranes again? Or—? He could have helped with all of this,” I mutter, trying to ignore the surprising well of anger from his absence and lack of technological know-how.

“Your father would be an ineffective teacher. While he may retain much knowledge, it is but abstract to him in many regards,” she says. “This challenge, it is one you must face through experience. Your gifts will guide you, as will I.”

“Great,” I say, biting my lower lip.

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