RISING SHADOWS (Shadows Book 2)

Chapter 29

**May not be suitable for younger readers**

As soon as night fell, I grabbed my broom and the bag I'd prepared hours earlier and launched myself into the sky.

Above the glow of electric bloom from earth-grounded lights, I soared through the velvet expanse, silver stars displaying their brilliance. Sandwiched between the mortal land underneath and the celestial world above, I felt utterly alone, and yet completely at ease.

I flew east, aiming for the coastline to follow it all the way to Ravenshold, overlapping the train tracks that first took us there. The air smelled of brine, a scent which called to my core. All of it did. The wicked waves, their violence and their power.

Ravenshold loomed ahead, a foreboding structure bleaker than the night itself. I couldn't see any light in the entire building. That was good, they were asleep, and I would have to rely on the moonlight to do what I needed to do.

I slowed on my descent, angling for a corner of the courtyard. The last thing I wanted was Matthew or Niamh waking up thinking there's an intruder. I suppose I was in a way, but I would never cause them harm. More than that, I knew they'd try to stop me, and nothing could get in my way tonight. I needed to do this, for Rafe.

The door to the chapel creaked. I winced as I pushed it open with my shoulder. Inside was as silent as the courtyard, dust dancing in bars of pale moonlit gloom. I pushed away the creeping sense of unease and moved to the white rectangular slab adorned with two statues lying side by side. Richard and Isobel.

I dumped my bag on the floor and took out each of its contents one by one. A silver knife, four slim candles and a box of chalk.

On my hands and knees, I scrambled on the cold stone floor in front of the tomb, drawing a large circle. Inside, I sketched a five-pointed star, one for the spirit and one each for the four elements. Casting the chalk aside, I wiped my hands down the thighs of my jeans leaving traces of white dust. I checked my poorly drawn lines connected as they should.

Content, I got to my feet, candles in hand. Selecting the blue one, I lowered it onto one of the pentagram's points and secured it in place with my stolen air magic.

"I call upon the Goddess to lease me the power of the waves." The wick ignited aquamarine. I moved on to the next point, guiding the red candle down just as I had the other. "I call upon the Goddess to lease me the heat of the flames." An orange flickering head grew on the candle.

I proceeded with the last two, calling on the strength of the wind and the stability of the earth. The earth candle didn't light, not even when I repeated the words. Then, taking up the knife, I positioned myself on the only remaining point left. The point reserved for the spirit.

Gripping the knife, I weeded the razor-like tip into the soft pad of my forefinger until dark blood bubbled out. It stung. Holding my hand out, I let my blood fall. It sizzled hitting the magical boundary of the pentagram.

"Anima corpori. Fuerti corpus tote, resurgent. Arise Isobel Callear." Apart from the flames flickering, nothing else happened.

"Anima corpori. Fuerti corpus tote, resurgent. Arise Isobel Callear." A brisk wind howled through the chapel snuffing out the flames. My shoulders and back tensed, my whole body turned rigid.

I looked to the tomb where not a slither of magic awakened the dormant occupant. Lady Isobel Callear slept in peaceful slumber as she had for centuries.

"Bollocks," I swore, lowering the knife.

Without warning, something clamped down hard on my wrist, spinning me.