Page 29 of Shadow's End

Especially given the three names Jaqueline had dropped. Which meant, of course, the bloody destruction could just as easily be Maelle’s and her demon’s as Marie’s and Jaqueline’s.

I guess we’d find out soon enough.

I wouldn’t be asking Maelle if she and her demon engage in regular blood baths, Belle said.Even if Roger was at full strength and her state of mind on an even keel, that would be a dangerous question to ask.

Never fear, I have no intention of poking the demon’s mistress any more than necessary, especially with questions that don’t in the end matter.

We reach the partially collapsed bracing. I sucked in a breath, not daring to breathe as I turned side-on and carefully eased through it. A fine rain of dirt sprinkled down, and I quickly glanced up. There was a decidedly worrying large crack running from the beam’s broken back to the supporting wall prop. It wouldn’t take much of a bump to bring it all down…

I didn’t bump it. Neither did anyone else.

Once Monty, the last in line, had cleared the collapse, we continued on. This section of tunnel bore further evidence of its fragile nature. Rubble lay everywhere, and the dripping water became an almost steady stream running down the slope toward the main cavern. Moss rippled in the clear current and spread across the stone, making each step that much more treacherous.

The closer we got to the cavern, the more intense the wailing of the ghosts became. The waves of emotion that accompanied their song was so strong my skin vibrated with its force. I flexed my fingers, tension rippling through me. If my shields cracked, I was going to be in a whole world of trouble.

They won’t,Belle said, with a certainty I didn’t feel.But if they do, I’ll shore them up.

You need to worry about yourself.

I’ve heard such choruses before, even if the freshness of these deaths intensifies their song. Besides, connecting with a soul or souls is a conscious decision for me, whereas your empathetic ability can be set off by a simple, unguarded touch.

Not so much these days, but that had certainly been a problem in the past. I continued in, picking my way through the water, rocks, and … were those bone fragments? My stomach stirred, even as instinct whispered an affirmative.

And it wasn’t just bone fragments. There were also bits of cloth, knots of hair in hues of browns and blonde, and long strings of what looked like flesh or intestines.

Some of their victims had tried to escape.

Some had made it as far as this partial collapse.

None of them had gotten any farther.

Oh God … I swallowed heavily against the bitter rise of bile, but forced my feet on and kept my gaze ahead rather than looking down at what was crunching under each step. The wailing intensified abruptly, as did the empathic wave, and, up ahead, air shimmered. It was the ghosts who’d died in this tunnel, huddled together in confusion and despair. We’d have to walk through them to get into the cavern.

I stopped. I just couldn’t do it.

“Belle?” I said softly. “I don’t suppose you…?”

My voice faded as she moved past Aiden and stopped beside me. “It’s a small group—six in all. I’ll move them on.”

She swung her pack around, pulled out a bottle of holy water, and then handed me the pack. After a deep breath to center her energy, she began to spell, though it was in a language I’d never heard used before.

“That’s Latin,” Ashworth said, surprised. “There are few enough spells around these days that use it. I’m surprised she even knows it.”

“She doesn’t,” I replied. “Her spirit guides are guiding her.”

“I thought there was a rule in the spirit world against direct intervention?” Monty said. “This would surely fall under that category, wouldn’t it?”

“Generally, yes, but it does depend on the situation and the guide.” I shot him an amused glance. “Your spirit guide may have the temperament of a gutter cat who wouldn’t go out of his way to help you unless it was absolutely necessary, but not all of them are so mean.”

“Eamon isnotmean.” Amusement glimmered in his eyes. “He merely senses your fear and, like all real felines, likes to tease.”

“He has a very liberal definition of tease,” I said dryly. And I had the scars to prove it. The ginger terror had very sharp claws.

“Love taps, nothing more,” he said. “Trust me, you’d know if he was serious about harming you.”

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to Belle. She was circling the glimmering veil of souls, the force of her magic increasing in tempo with the spell as she sprinkled the holy water onto the ground. While her spirits guides—unlike most witches she was gifted—plagued?—by a number of them—would never harm her, we had no idea what else waited in that tunnel ahead. Just because I was sensing nothing didn’t mean something in there wouldn’t take advantage of her concentration being on the spell rather than her surroundings.

Belle reached the point where she’d begun and raised a hand, making a sweeping motion as she tied off and then initiated the spell. Power hovered in the air, and ghosts thrummed in tune with it. Then gradually, a bright light formed in the center of the ring she’d created, and one by one, the ghosts entered and disappeared. The light died, the spell died, and the ghosts—or at least these ones—were gone. They’d moved on to whatever fate their next life would bring.

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