Chapter 58 - The Witch of Fishers Lake

Panicked footsteps sounded throughout the inn as Hump followed Celaine outside, a tired Bud stumbling along behind them. They stopped at the doorway, staring up at the sky as other townsfolk did the same around them.

“Do you have any idea what they are?” Celaine asked.

Hump shook his head. He’d grabbed his spirit detector on the way out to check if anything was wrong with it, but as far as he could tell, everything was fine. “Spirits don’t usually gather in such numbers—at least, not the wandering soul kind. If my detector isn’t picking them up, they must be some other kind of spirit, or they might just be too strong for its enchantments.”

“How strong would that be?” Bud asked.

“Far beyond our capabilities,” Hump said. “But if that were the case, the town would be as good as dead. I think we’re dealing with the former.”

“What do you want to do?” Celaine asked.

“We need to figure out what we’re dealing with,” Hump said. “Heading to the lighthouse seems like our best bet, and this time, I think someone must be in.”

“Agreed,” Bud said.

They beelined for it, heading through the marketplace. As they ran, Hump spotted faces watching from the windows, holding religious trinkets and candles as if they might somehow ward off whatever spirits had come for them. Captain Winfrey met them at the edge of town, a dozen guards with him.

“Have you ever seen this before?” Bud asked him.

“Never,” Winfrey said. “Not the ghosts, nor the lighthouse. The only sightings we had before were of individuals.”

“And they looked like that?” Hump asked.

Winfrey nodded. “All reports match what we’re seeing.”

“Gods help us,” one of the guards muttered.

“What do we do?” Winfrey asked. “Priest Albry is already heading for the lighthouse with a number of his order.”

“We need to go after them,” Hump said quickly. “Whatever that light is, it’s drawing the spirits. I don’t know how long that will last though.”

“Do any of your men have enchanted blades, Winfrey,” Bud asked.

“Just myself,” Winfrey said. “An heirloom of my families.”

“Have your men get everyone get back inside,” Bud said. “We’re heading to the lighthouse, and I have a feeling we’re going to need your help.”

“You have it,” Winfrey said. “You heard the man,” he said to his men. “See that everyone gets back inside. Have them check the salt lines in their homes, and then reconvene at the church.”

“Yes sir,” the men echoed.

The mile or so to the lighthouse couldn’t have felt longer. Hump didn’t dare to cast Light for fear that his magic might draw the attention of the spirits. As they neared, Hump saw the priests and his followers approaching the lighthouse, their small figures casting long shadows along the ridge. Over a dozen of them, and all of them held their insignias up together. A chant filled the night as attempted to invoke Hestia’s powers.

A distant shriek answered them, and a shiver ran down Hump’s spine.

“We need to hurry,” Hump said.

Shadows swept toward the priests, and Bud threw all caution to the wind, letting loose his Heart of Frostfire. Blue flame lit up the air around him—an aura of cold purity that enhanced his strength. He charged the remaining distance, leaving them behind as he rushed to the aid of the priests.

“You go on,” Celaine said, drawing an arrow.

Hump felt her essence stir, filling her arrow with power. She drew the string back, her entire body tense, then loosed it into the dark. The arrow glinted silver in the night, piercing toward one of the dark figures in the sky. It passed through its incorporeal form, blasting its body apart.

But more were swooping in like crows to the feast. One of the priests let loose a high-pitched screech, then another as more of the spirits appeared from the darkness, descending on them. The priests faltered in their chant, letting out pained and panicked cries in its place.

Bud was nearing the top of the slope as Hump and Winfrey arrived at the bottom. Now that Hump was closer, he could see their hooded figures more clearly. They were vaguely humanoid in shape though Hump saw no face beneath that hood. Their bodies smoked with black mist, forming and reforming at the edges where it looked like torn fabric. Those that attacked the priests hovered over them. Essence rose from the chests of the priests as their very life force was siphoned from them and breathed in by the spirits. The priests fell to their knees, their screams silencing. They remained in place as if suspended by the power of the creature’s, unable to collapse to the ground.

Bud roared as he met them, his sword blazing with blue flame. He swept it at the spirits and they glided out of reach, hissing at him like a snake’s whisper. Bud stepped in front of the priests and swung his sword again, the blaze pressing the spirits back, but they kept circling around, searching for more ways in.

Hump felt a cold touch as one of the spirits appeared out of the darkness beside him. He resisted its pull with his will, but even just a touch had drained a sliver of his essence. Raising his staff, he whirled on it in a panic, channelling his essence. “Blast!”

In his panic he hadn’t held back. The spell erupted from his staff in a torrent, obliterating the spirit’s body. Hump stared into the empty space where it had been, heart racing. Calm down, he told himself.

One of the spirits snuck in and attacked Albry, the priest screaming as he fell to one knee. An arrow glinted through the night, piercing the spirit and scattering it back into the night. More silver bolts shone in the dark as Celaine targeted any the slipped around Bud to target the priests.

“Hump, I need you!” Bud shouted. His frostfire aura filled the space around him like a giant flame as he channelled Heart of Frostfire to its fullest.

Hump hurried up the slope to support them, frowning as he noticed one of the dissipated spirits pulling itself back together, seemingly unharmed. As he drew closer, he channelled a more controlled amount of essence into his staff, using his bracelet on his right hand to stop any unexpected surges. The moment he was in range he sent out a blast over the head of the priests. The wave of blue lit up the darkness, clearing out the more immediate threats. The wind swept at Hump’s wizards robes. He felt a touch of cold spread from his core, but it was far from enough to slow him down.

Winfrey cut through a spirit encroaching on the left, and its form dissipated into two wafts of black smoke. “Stay with me Winfrey,” Hump said, pushing forward and running into the middle of the priests. He stamped his staff into the ground at his feet, his essence roiling through his body like fire. “Get close to me! Drag the wounded if you have to.”

“What in heavens is going on?” Albry yelled, rising back to his feet. His skin had lost all its colour, but Celaine seemed to have stopped the creature before it could cause more serious harm.

“We’re all the help you’re getting,” Hump said. “Now get in close or you’ll be stuck outside my shield.”

“Gods have mercy,” another priest cried. “Gods, help us!”

“Move you fool,” Winfrey snapped, shoving him with a boot as he dragged an unconscious priest closer to Hump.

There was no more time to wait, the spirits were already rushing back in. He ignored his bracelet, channelling his essence through his left hand and filling up his focus. In his mind he imagined the shape he wished his spell to take. “Shield!”

Essence erupted from a point above his staff, shimmering but clear. It spread out in a circle, like ice expanding over a window, forming a dome around them. The priests huddled in close as the shield fully took form, and Hump felt the light touch of a spirit as it brushed against his shield, trying to get in.

“Where’s Celaine?” Bud asked.

As if in answer, another arrow glinted through the dark like a star.

“She had the sense to stay out of reach,” Hump.

“Good,” Bud said. “How long can you hold this?”

“A few minutes,” Hump said. “Unless they have a way to—Oh no.”

He felt it before he saw it. The spirits siphoned the essence from his shield, breathing in the streams of it through their hoods. “They’re draining it fast, Bud. We need a plan!”

“Can any of you fight?” Bud asked Albry.

“We’re priests,” Albry said, gasping for breath. “Our power is in prayer.”

“Then you better pray hard,” Hump said through gritted teeth, “because if the gods aren’t listening, we’re in trouble.”

“Do not disrespect the gods,” Albry growled.

“Now’s not the time,” Bud said. He looked over the fallen priests, and Hump saw his face pale. Of the fourteen priests, four were on the ground. “We’re going to need to carry them out and make a runner.”

As they talked, the spirits swarmed his shield, each of them drawing out its essence. One of the remaining priests let out a panicked cry and sprinted for a gap in the spirits. He made it three steps before barrelling into Hump’s shield, face first. The priests fell backward, groaning, his nose bleeding.

“Well that’s not helpful,” Hump said. “Albry, you and your people will need to carry them. Can you do that?”

“I… I—”

“Albry!” Bud snapped. “Get your people under control. We don’t have the numbers to hold them off and carry all of you.”

The priest nodded. “We’ll do it. We’ll do it. Eisha, Sirel, can you carry Kassi between you?”

They nodded. “Yes father.”

“Then we’ll do two to every man. Ashmal, help me here.”

“How do you want to do this?” Bud asked. “Like the dungeon?”

Hump shook his head. “They’re draining me too fast,” Hump said through gritted teeth. The cold was getting worse, he wouldn’t last much longer. “I’ll expand my shield. That will push them back enough to give us some room to breathe. You clear the way for the priests, and I’ll bring up the rear.”

“Can you handle that?”

“Not for long. So clear the way fast, and come back for me.”

“What about me?” Winfrey asked, defaulting to them for leadership.

“Stay with them,” Hump said. “Once Bud is back with me, you and Celaine are all that’s keeping the spirits back.”

He nodded. “Understood.”

“Are you ready?” Hump asked. The priests were carrying their comrades by the legs and shoulders. Two of the larger men were carrying a man over their shoulder each.

“Of course we’re ready,” Albry said, straining against the weight. “Hurry before we drop them.”

“Ready,” Bud said.

“Ready,” Winfrey added.

“Good,” Hump said. He drew in a deep breath, bracing himself against the cold chill that would follow, then channelled every bit of essence he could into his staff. The shield expanded in all directions, blue light shimmering across its surface as its solid structure was disrupted. The spirits beyond hissed and shrieked as they were thrown back out into the sky.

Then the shield shattered into shards.

“Go!” Hump roared.

Bud led the way down the slope at a walk, frostfire blazing as the first spirits swooped back in. They clearly had some sort of intelligence from their way of attack, for they avoided Bud and opted to sneak in at the flanks. Where they tried, Celaine had them covered.

Hump hurried up behind them, watching the sky as he gathered his will for another blast. These creatures were almost weightless, so he didn’t put much power into the spell, instead trying to form it into as wide a cone as he could. As the spirits rushed back in, he let the spell loose.

The wave of blue that erupted from his staff was faint and transparent. It spread out from his focus and sent a dozen spirits flying back. An arrow shone silver as it passed by his shoulder, a spirit dissipating there with a hiss, its now two halves floating back out of reach as they reformed.

Hump raised his staff to another at his left, but he was too slow. A hand stretched out from beneath its shadow cloak, as black as the darkness that formed it. Its three fingers were inhumanly long, and combined with its thumb, it reminded Hump of a frog’s foot. The creature hissed—no, it whispered into the wind. Hump felt the essence pulled from his soul, a strand of blue light that spiralled up into its hood.

The cold turned to ice. He felt paralysed. His mind knew it had to fight, it had to run, but the rest of him refused to move.

Frostfire cut through it and set its cloak ablaze. It died shrieking, consumed in a flash fire.

“Are you alright?” Bud asked, pulling Hump to his feet—he hadn’t even realised he’d fallen.

Hump nodded weakly. More of the spirits were coming, their dark figures stark against the blue beacon of the lighthouse. They filled the night with whispers of a language Hump could hardly hear, as if they spoke in pitches the human ear could not make sense of.

Golden light shone through the shadows, a sun against night. The spirits wailed, fleeing into the sky in their terror. The cloaks of those that were caught too close glowed all over as if they had been showed in burning embers.

Something had pushed them back. Hump shielded his eyes against the light, staring into it. The air felt warm again.

As the light dulled, he saw a woman standing there, wand in hand, and a young man at her side. The light faded until it was a gentle flame at the end of her wand, illuminating her face, framed by greying, brown hair.

“Vivienne!” Hump called, elated. “It’s me, Hump! We saw the spirits… We were here to help—”

“I know it’s you, you idiot,” she snapped, peering past him. “Where’s Sethril? Her eyes glanced at Hump’s spellbook, and a deep frown formed on her face. “What happened?”

“He…” Hump blinked, stumbling for words. “He died, Vivi.” His lips trembled. “Two months ago.”

Her face revealed nothing as she stared at him, still processing what he had said. “You had all best come inside. Bring these idiot priests with you, and that girl out there, wherever she’s hiding.”