Page 99 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
Finished with him? Raith didn’t like the sound of that at all.
Why can’t I just die?Never had a being wanted it more, he was certain.
“Darya did amazing work on you. I would never have thought it possible to do what she did.” Furie strolled into his line of sight then, looking down at whatever mess was left of his body. “I’ve gone and ruined all that hard work, now, haven’t I? A shame. But I have no use for you in a form I can’t control. And, since Darya isn’t here to claim you, I think I’ll make you back into something that is useful to me.”
Horror suffused him. Surely she wasn’t saying what he thought she was? Surely that wasn’t possible? Darya had made him a physical body and tied his spirit to it, effectively rebirthing him. Surely the process was irreversible?Please let it be irreversible.
If he’d even considered that the remotest possibility, he never would’ve flown within a hundred miles of the castle. But he’d dismissed it, thinking it impossible.
What a sad, sorry fool he’d been. In so many ways.
“I hope you enjoyed your little stint with a body, Thirteen, because it’s time to go back to how I created you. ‘That’s impossible!’ I can almost hear you thinking. I’m here to assure you, it is not. Darya overrode my magic with her own to create you, and I can do the same in reverse. It’s just going to be a little uncomfortable.”
A pause, and then…
Agony. Indescribable torture. Pain beyond measure, belief, or comprehension. Fire consumed every inch of him, down to his very soul.
Mercifully, he passed out.
While unconscious, he had a dream of sorts. He was swimming underwater in the quiet dark where no sunlight could penetrate. He felt peaceful, whole again. After the torture he’d endured, the feeling was such a relief that grateful tears poured freely down his face to merge with the oceanic depths.
He felt rather than heard a disturbance in the water above. Twisting around, he looked up, searching for the cause, and saw something moving toward him. A dark shape. It drew closer.
Hands. There were hands reaching out. Instinctively, he reached back. They were almost touching. So close…
Then he saw her. Harrow.
She was swimming toward him. Indescribable joy suffused him. He hadn’t known it was possible to feel such happiness.
She reached for him, straining to grab his hand. He strained back, stretching his fingers, desperate for even just a single brush of skin. A certainty filled him that if he could touch her, he could go to her, and he needed to go to her. So badly, in fact, that his very life might depend upon it—
He never got the chance. The next instant, he regained consciousness in his new reality.
The ocean vanished, replaced by that familiar stone room.
Instantly, he recognized what he’d become. It was familiar, as familiar as slipping into a worn jacket or pair of shoes. It was more familiar than his old life had ever been, for he’d lived in this condition far longer.
His body was weightless. He could dissolve it into the ether or gather it into a dark shape at will. Neither state was more comfortable than the other. He could become any color he wished, camouflaging to any surrounding, turning invisible. He could also solidify himself completely for a short time, but the state of being solid brought with it glaring weaknesses.
How could he have ever wanted to remain permanently so?
In this spectral form, he was untouchable.
His emotions were dampened, a memory attached to the physical world he was no longer part of. As he floated, he felt a sense of lightness, of disconnect from everything, as though he was watching the world through a veil. Nothing seemed to matter, and why should it? Why bother caring about anything?
He was nearly invincible, free from bodily troubles, gifted with unimaginable power. He moved unseen in the night, cloaked in shadows, as silent as a whisper, as deadly as death itself.
“There you are,” Furie cooed, and the wraith spun around to face her.
Hatred filled him at the sight of the sorceress who bound him, the only blight on his powerful existence. He was free in every way except for her.
If only he could kill her… But she’d prepared for this. He was surrounded by magical bars of flame on six sides—she was careful to cage him at his feet, too. If not, he would have sunk through the floor and come up behind her to slit her throat before she could blink. As it was, he was well and truly trapped.
A beatific smile adorned her flawless face. “Yes, you’re much better like this, I think.”
The wraith stared blankly, his hatred of her the only emotion to penetrate his smoky existence. And even that felt numb and far away.
“Now that I’ve restored you to your former glory, we have work to do. Since you freed all my other wraiths and I don’t have time to fetch them back just yet, you’ll have to do all their work combined. A suitable punishment for your insubordination, I think.”
