The Wright

Ch. 35 Record

I sucked in a breath, frozen like a doe that had spotted danger. A deep, reddish glow began in the center of the orb, swirling lazily. The voice had come from the artifact, but also spoke directly behind my eardrums. "...Who is there?" I asked, tentatively.

For a long time, I thought that it would not respond.

"...Many of us are here."

"Many."

"Family."

Was it a trick? There were multiple voices emanating from both my mind and the heavy ball, shrouded in the hush of whispers. I could not tell if they were male or female, familiar or not. However, what I had read stated it to be a way to commune with the deceased, so it was possible that there were just several trying to reach out. There were so many things I could ask. We already knew what happened when we died, but to hear a firsthand account would be incredible.

My lips parted to ask another question when it spoke again.

"You are so brave...We are watching...Will help..."

"Help me? How?" Unless...What if I was speaking to Achan Vaulk himself?

"Vivienne...Rose...I protect them...We must protect the world...Clia."

"You witnessed the danger."

"Don't!"

"Ricard."

"Yes, I saw Ricard Ginassier. I saw him...die. You mean that you want to protect the world from the High King?"

"So many lost," they wailed, the burgundy glow behind the blackish ice flared to a hot red. "So many destroyed."

"Why? How? You must explain or I cannot do anything. I cannot understand."

"The slaying of Soul Wrights, Spindleton, Hilldale, and Veville. It is written. The record was hidden."

"Horror."

"Behind his books. Out of sight."

Their words overlapped, speaking together and trying to be heard. It created a choppy mess, like a skipping record, a crowd murmuring in the next room. If I listened too intently, it disappeared, a dream fading as I woke. My heart was pumping quickly, pressure forcing its weight on my shoulders as dread scraped my chest.

"No!...No!"

"Forgotten...In vain..."

"Be brave, Clia. We are waiting...We will come when you call."

"I will make it stop. You must not fail or all will be lost. There will be no other chance."

I shook my head, knowing that I needed to find whatever record they spoke of, but not understanding anything else. Nobody wanted to speak plainly. Perhaps they were and it was too twisted up in secrecy for me to decipher.

The light began to dim, curling in on itself like a cat intending to take a nap. "Wait. Don't go. Is Violet Heralla there? Can I speak with her?"

It shrank until there was less than a pinprick and then it was gone altogether, leaving me alone with the silent, granite ball. I called out a few more times, but the orb stayed dark.

Frustrated and more anxious than ever, I covered its liquidlike surface within the towel and put it in the cabinet beneath the sink. I hoped that if the voices came again, it would be too muffled to make out.

I laid in my bed for hours that night, picking through what the different voices had said and trying to make sense of them. It felt like my chest was being crushed under tons of stone, impreding my ability to take a deep breath.