Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 26: The Spirits

Over the next few weeks, Morgan kept the details of her plan regarding Sylvana a secret while she set everything up. She was just as tight-lipped about Max's whereabouts, but promised Reine he'd make contact soon.

He failed to deliver. She still hadn't heard from him when Morgan called in late July saying it was time to act.

With Noor sitting beside her in Emery Wescott's chauffeured Rolls, they headed out of the city to an unknown destination. An identical car in front carried Greer, Morgan, and her sister Paisley. Wedged between two black SUVs, they drove north for almost three hours. By the time the convoy came to a stop, Reine - with her aching limbs and urgent need for the toilet - was sorry for taking Max's private jet for granted.

"Welcome to Scoby Castle," Morgan announced, theatrically extending her arms toward the weathered, stone building behind her.

It was clearly a misnomer. The residence obviously wasn't one of those medieval fortresses that were often called castles in this part of the world, nor did it belong in some fairy tale. Instead, a newly rich entrepreneur perhaps from the textile or shipping industry most likely built it in the mid-1800s to flaunt his wealth.

"Stonehenge has nothin' on the energy under this place. It's been closed-up for quite a while, so ya better watch yer step. Oh, thank you," she said, taking one of the flashlights the chauffer was passing out. "Just follow me."

The entryway was below a five story tall tower, and while Morgan fiddled with the lock, Reine introduced Noor to the two other women.

As the weathered door creaked opened, the unpleasant smell of mildew and decaying textiles hit their noses. Slowly stepping inside one after another, the group panned their lights in various directions, revealing a time capsule likely hidden away for decades.

From the central vestibule, rooms opened to the left and to the right, while a grand staircase - flanked by faux marbled pillars - stood directly ahead. The downstairs curtains were drawn closed, but a huge stained-glass window above the first floor landing was uncovered. It let in the filtered early afternoon sun, casting a cavalcade of colors in the immediate vicinity to break up the eerie darkness.

A thick layer of dust covered everything, and once disturbed, the tiny particles floated into the air like small pieces of glitter. All the furnishings had been left behind, and the antique sofas, chairs, and tables stood in their original places, patiently waiting for their owners' return.

Morgan led the way up the stairs. The treads ominously creaked with each step, but the quality of the construction supported their weight even after a century and a half. The young woman used another key to open the first door at the top, and the group quietly entered.

Someone had prepared the room for their arrival. A round table with five, wooden chairs stood in the center of the otherwise large, but empty space. The curtains were closed here, as well, and the muted beams from the flashlights bounced off the shiny parquet flooring.

Each woman took a seat. With the snap of her fingers, Morgan sparked to life one of the fat candles in the middle of the table. "Use the flame to light each of your own," she instructed the others.

"If we're successful, we'll get some answers today. Now, I didn't want to tell the two of ya too much beforehand because I wanted ya to be able to use your heightened excitement to fuel the process." She looked at Reine and Noor through the warm glow of the candlelight.

Briefly closing her eyes, Morgan took a deep breath before continuing. "If you can all join hands, I'll now attempt to contact the spirits torn from their immortals bodies every time they died."