Avet sprinkles a few drops of the compass’ juice on the bones, some of which still have skin stretched across in parts.
I grimace at the sight, which gives me hope that I haven’t lost my humanity yet. The world shouldn’t be like this, yet here we are.
Moments like this were what led me to consider putting away Ch’ar and hanging up my trapping gear. I dug up a body that had been rotting for twenty years and had no reaction. The smell didn’t bother me. The sight didn’t evoke images of my own dwindling humanity. I did the job and wasn’t affected by any of it.
That’s how I knew I had been at this for far too long. When a person sees a corpse, it should do something to what’s left of their soul.
As I uncover Zagiri’s form from her shallow, hastily made grave, I draw immense comfort from the fact that my own soul isn’t gone completely. Revulsion claws at my ribcage as more and more of her is unearthed.
Good. This is how it should be. I haven’t lost myself completely.
I want to get out of here. We don’t need the whole carcass turned to ash, just an offering of fire to help usher Zagiri into the afterlife.
Hopefully it’s a heck of a lot more peaceful over there for her than this life turned out to be.
“She’s one of us,” I offer as a mediocre attempt at a eulogy, which is more than most get from me. “Zagiri saw her parents die at the hands of a vampire, then she used all the tools at her disposal to try and make sure it didn’t happen to any other little kids.” I swallow hard. “You did a good job, Zagiri. Now it’s time to rest. We’ve got it from here.”
Though as I say those words, I wonder how true they are. I’m not in the game. Not longer than tonight, at least. Avet has his clues to get back on the road to finding Cher, which brings my agreed upon part in this journey to an end.
I should be relieved, but all I feel is regret.
22
BACKBREAKING WORK
Avet closes his eyes and begins the chant meant to join a spirit with its body. Though you don’t need to be a witch to perform this particular bit of magic, there’s a perfection with which only witches can deliver the pronunciation, making the spell that much speedier to catch on and bring the spirit to fruition.
A breeze picks up around us, chilling my skin faster than a pre-autumn gust might. Sevan’s intake of breath turns my head to the wispy form of Zagiri in all of her dark-haired glory. Though her body is translucent in parts, I can see her misery well enough.
“No,” she mouths, protesting the prospect of resting in peace. Many spirits whose bodies came to a violent end are troubled and throw quite the temper tantrum when we conjure them. They are often unable to distinguish friend from foe.
Sevan’s drawn sword makes the threat clear that we will not negotiate on this. Spirits belong in the afterlife, not this life.
Avet keeps on with his chant, flowing from the conjuring bit into the part where we send the spirit to the other side.
I strike a match, but the gust blows it out. Zagiri can’t speak, but her shriek is loud enough to make my head swim. Suddenly a branch breaks off and pelts Avet across the face, dropping him to the forest floor.
I guess we aren’t going to do this the easy way.
I pick up the chant where Avet left off, though my layman’s pronunciation gives Zagiri more freedom than the tight tether Avet had on her. The closer she is to her remains, the easier she can manipulate objects to weaponize them.
“You don’t belong here!” Sevan shouts, trying to reason with Zagiri when another branch breaks off and bashes Avet the moment he tries to get to his feet. “It’s time to cross over, Zagiri. Your spirit has been at war long enough!”
But Zagiri disagrees. Most spirits are livid, unwilling to leave this life until their murderer is brought to justice. Luckily, the chant makes that decision for them, sending them to the next life whether they are ready for the journey or not.
I keep on with the complex syllables, determined to light this stinking match if it’s the last thing I do.
But my need to protect Avet wars with the task I know I must complete. I dart to his side and scoop him close. I shield him with my wider form, hovering over Avet so that if another attack comes his way, I can intercept it.
His bewildered groan is the worst sound in the world, hitting me harder than my own pain might.
My stomach drops when I hear the crack of a tree trunk accompanied by Sevan’s shriek for us to move.
It’s not enough notice for me to get Avet out of the way, and no part of me knows how to leave him in harm’s way without me becoming his human shield. Instead of jumping out of the way of the falling tree, I spread my body more fully over his, crouching on all fours to bear the brunt of the tree trunk’s weight as the thing creaks ominously and then topples over.
Sevan’s scream is louder than my grunt of pain when the tree falls across my lower back. “Keran!”
My teeth grit under the effort of keeping my limbs taut and my spine straight. I worry I might buckle under the weight of the tree and crush Avet.