Page 53 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

Emara’s soul squirmed as she saw the instant fear that crossed the fortune teller’s face. A witch that belongs to the House of Spirit, she recalled from the information session earlier. Now understanding the symbol that lay on her collarbone, she traced over it again with her eyes.

The symbol of spirit.

“How did you acquire this stone, Torin Blacksteel?” Her long nail pointed at the stone that lay on the table.

“Is it what I think it is?” Torin urged, his voice low.

Emara looked between them, both locked in a bull-strong stare.

“The resurrection stone,” the witch whispered, as if scared to say it out loud.

“It can’t be.” Torin closed his eyes for a second and then he leaned forward. “This stone has been lost for centuries—millennia. How can it turn up in some human’s belongings?”

Melione intercepted, “She is no human.” Her mouth curved in amusement. “But you suspected that.”

He knew what?

“Otherwise, you would not have brought her to me.” The spirit witch’s eyes twinkled with a beacon of light.

Emara wanted to look in Torin’s direction for clarification. For clarification on what she was missing. But she couldn’t pull her eyes from the witch as she continued to speak.

“I can feel your power bubbling beneath the surface,” Melione played with the idea as she wiggled her fingers. Her hands were covered in rings that all had different meanings. Melione’s dark eyes pierced through Emara. “But you don’t know what you are, do you?”

Speechless, Emara’s body had turned to stone. Her lips parted, but was incapable of drawing in air. She shook her head as dark hair fell over her shoulders.

“Place your hands onto the crystal ball.” She gestured to the centrepiece.

As if entranced, Emara leaned forward in her chair.

“If you are not willing, I will not make you. You don’t have to, but the spirits are pushing their way forward to speak to you. One in particular has a message that you need to see.” Her hand orbited her crystal ball as bangles dangled down to meet the bone in her wrist.

“You can communicate with spirits?” Emara’s voice was small as she thought over the possibility of receiving a message from her grandmother.

Anything at all.

“She can connect and communicate with spirits as well as seek out your fate from the Gods,” Torin encouraged.

Emara locked eyes with Torin for a moment longer than she would have liked.

This is not how she’d thought the night was going to go. She leaned into the crystal ball and placed her fingertips onto the glass and then allowed her palms to gently follow.

At first, nothing happened. She waited to feel something, see something. A gentle breeze blew into the room, causing the candle lights to flicker. She looked to see if the wind had come through an open window or door, but there were none.

“Do not move your hands from the ball until the spirits are done with you,” Melione commanded, as she placed her hands on top of Emara’s.

A gust of air swarmed the room and the candle lights died as Melione chanted unknown words in a soft rhythm. She couldn’t see Torin, but she imagined he would be alert and ready to take on any danger should it present itself.

A surge of energy flowed through Emara’s hands, forcing its way past her elbow and into her shoulder. She let out a gasp as it travelled up her neck, around her ears, and into her mind.

Close your eyes, a voice whispered. A voice that was so ancient it had no accent.

The electric current of energy formed into a ball of light that moved like an orb around her mind. Faintly, she heard a woman’s voice.

Focus and you shall see, the ancient voice whispered.

And so, she did.

The voice grew louder and louder until she could hear what was being said. The orb’s light burst into colour in her mind and expanded into a thousand different pigments. The energy shook through Emara’s body, but she clutched onto the ball, not letting go.

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