Page 47 of Keeping Sarah

“I beg your pardon?” Deacon said.

Omen explained to him, “Possession—regularpossession, that is—can become an addiction for the possessed. But this was no regular possession, Deacon. It is as I told Jac. What she did, no one has ever done before, so I am not sure what kind of repercussions we are to expect for her.”

Distress creased his features. “Why would possession be an addiction?”

She explained the details as she had told me, then added, “But I saw Rex leave her body. I shoved him off of the ship, but I think…” she frowned, like she had to consider her words.

“What?” I demanded.

Omen visibly winced. “I think there could be a part of him left in her. It can happen with long term possessions sometimes, and—"

“A couple of days is long term?” I asked.

Omen wrung her hands together anxiously. “Most possessed people do not survive more than a few hours, though that is usually due to the ghost’s fun, more so than the possessionitself. Some ghosts think it’s funny to make their host hurt themselves to the point near death, then leave before the host dies. It’s…” she shuddered, “abhorrent. But the point is, Sarah’s possession was far longer than most. And that leaves her open to complications—"

“Like part of Rex still being inside of Sarah?” Deacon asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Omen replied quietly. “When a ghost has a strong enough will or personality, the host can be similar to when an addict still craves their drug. They might seem like themselves at times, but when they are still coming off of their addiction, they’re affected by the chemical changes in their body. But when aremnantis still inside a host, it’s like they are still getting small doses of that drug. She is not in full control of herself. I’m sure you’ve both noticed—"

"Yes," we said together.

“I have seen this before,” she said in a troubled tone. “And it did not end well.”

“What happened?” I asked, needing to know.

She hesitated, looking from me, to Deacon, then back again. “One of the people who lived near my cabin in the forest, he was a great guy. At first. He helped me build my cabin when I originally defected from the conduits, actually. But he was ununited. One night, I heard the strangest sounds coming from his place, so I went to check on him, and he was possessed. I fought with the ghost inside of him, some psychopath from Yesanol. I got him out and killed him, but my friend had been possessed all day. My friend screamed and acted like I had attackedhim.” She stared at the ground, sounding conflicted. “I kept telling him, ‘You’re safe now, he’s gone,’ but it was likehewasn’t even in his own head anymore. After a few minutes, he pretended to calm down, then attacked me with a bone knife.”

I didn’t want to ask, but Deacon did. “What happened?”

She glanced back up at us. “I defended myself and burned his body after. I haven’t seen his ghost since that day.”

Deacon looked at me, his face reflecting the same fear eating me up inside, before he asked Omen, “What do we do?”

Her lips pursed like she didn’t want to say what was on her mind. “I don’t like admitting this, but conduits don’t have the solution to what you need. We have abilities and we speak for ghosts, and we have a certain level of control and influence when it comes to them, but that is all we have. You need something more targeted to the problem—"

“Which is?” I asked anxiously.

“A magician,” she said, her voice a whisper as she glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby. “Don’t tell the other conduits I told you this, but that’s what you need, I think. They have access to abilities we never could because they don’t have limits on what they are permitted to learn.”

Just the mention of magicians caused a shiver to run through me.

Deacon stiffened up, too. “I cannot believe what you are saying, Omen. It’s unthinkable.”

“I don’t care what it is.” Determination shoved out the fear trying to take hold. “If that’s what she needs, then that’s what we do.”

Deacon ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and distressed as he tried to gather his words. “Of course, Jac,” he finally agreed. “I just…I never would have thought this is where we would end up, that’s all. We will do whatever is needed. Omen, do you know one we can trust?”

She laughed dryly. “Of course not. You cannot trust a magician. Everyone knows that. Hell, I’m not even sure where I would find one.”

“I do.”

We jumped at Sarah’s voice behind us.

She looked worried, and a little scared, which I hated for her. “You think a magician can fix what’s wrong with me, Omen?” she asked hopefully.

Carefully, the conduit asked, “Do youwantto be fixed, Sarah?”

“I hate…feeling like this,” she said, her tone desolate. “Like I’m broken and angry and confused all the time. I hate having his memories in my head. I hate myself for snapping at all of you. I’m so sorry for all of that.”

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