“Not this time, at least. The entire place was full of screaming. Children screaming, crying, begging…” Hanna didn’t bother to suppress the shudder. “I couldn’t see the spirits, but I could hear them. I couldfeelthem. They’re not just apparitions. What theyareis miserable.”
Athena sucked the last noodle into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Once she’d swallowed, she said,“So they did not manifest. They might not have had the energy to do so, or the impetus. If they are children, they may be trapped in a fear so overwhelming they can’t bring themselves to walk about. But there is also the possibility they are tied to a place, or an object.”
“That can happen?”
“Naturally. Humans assign a great deal of symbolic power to objects, or to places in a home. Imagine a child who cuddles a stuffed animal or flees to their parents’ closet in a storm. All those emotions imbue those places with power.”Athena gestured with her chopsticks.“This is how you get haunted objects, or spirits you only see at the crossroads where they died in car accidents.”
Hanna frowned. “And if they were killed here…”
“They may be unable to leave the spot where they died. If that one spirit is as malicious as she seems, she may have purposely tied them there.”Athena stabbed her chopsticks at the webcam.“What you need to do is find out how many spirits there are, what they are tied to, and how. Only then will you be able to help them.”
“What if they don’t want help?” Hanna asked, thinking of the widow’s spirit and the incident in the bathtub.
“Some may not want to go. You may have to force the issue. They may become violent. Remember, disembodied spirits have a limited ability to affect the living.”
“One almost drowned me!”
“I did say ‘limited ability’, not ‘no ability’. Think about what she did, and how she did it.”
“She trapped me in the tub so I was stuck underwater.”
“She used the air and water against you so you could not sit up. Imagine spirits who blow out candles or shatter drinking glasses. They are using inanimate objects and elements in small but often clever ways. You, however, will always have the trump card. She can try to outsmart you with the tools she has at hand, and almost did. You have the ability to evict her from the realm of the living. Which I assume is your intent.”
“I can’t do anything else, Athena. They’re suffering.”
“Of course you can’t, Hanna.”Athena’s expression gentled into a smile.“You’re a Sparrow.”
Hanna squinted at the screen. “I don’t understand.”
“In several folk beliefs and mythologies, the sparrow is considered a psychopomp. A guide from the realm of the living to that of death. The ancient Egyptians believed sparrows carried souls to the afterlife.”Athena set down her bowl and chopsticks so she could lean towards the camera.“You, my friend, are a sparrow down to your very beautiful heart. I saw it in you when we were cleaning the house. You yearned to help those spirits pass on. That you can sense them is a rare gift. One that goes hand in hand with a rarer gift still.”
Surprised, overcome, Hanna sat quietly for several moments. “My uncle said the same thing about sparrows. I hadn’t thought about that in a long time.”
“Your uncle may have seen more than you knew.”
“Maybe.” Hanna took a deep breath, then decided she needed more time to process what Athena had said. “Are there other kinds of psychopomps?”
“Certainly. Herons, for example, and eagles. Ravens and crows, of course. And owls.”
“Owls.”
Athena stared into the camera, waiting.
The realization crawled into Hanna’s thoughts. “Owls. Like… The owl of Athena?”
Her friend picked up her bowl and chopsticks again.“A fun fact for your evening. My last name, Hibou, is a French word. Would you care to guess at what it means?”
Suddenly, Hanna understood a great many things about her friend, the house in Vermont, and the wards on the cellar door.
9
Sparrow in the War for Night
The shroud of night’s quiet blanketed the country home with a peace sorely needed by those within. Stillness reigned on its throne of silence, crowned by a firmament of stars that shone like jewels in the velvet sky.
Chaos deposed it in a violent coup. A furious wind blew through the halls, through the rooms, throwing papers into disarray. Curtains whipped into banners that streamed from their rods, twisting and tangling as the tempest gusted against the walls and swirled into vortices. Windows flew open, forced outward. Shutters crashed against masonry.
A shriek cut through the night, filled with startlement and fear.