Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 26: The Spirits

"Ha! I knew the ghost socks were a good choice," Noor exclaimed with a slight jump, but she quietly bowed her head again after Reine squeezed her hand.

Morgan ignored the interruption. "First, we have to decide who to contact. The energy required for this is usually enough to sustain just one spirit, so it has to count. Remember that whatever they say will be without prejudice, which means they can only reveal facts. They can't say anything that isn't true." She looked Reine in the eyes. "Now I know that I mentioned Sylvana before, but I've been thinking about it and my suggestion would be to go directly to Max. However, it's your call."

Reine shook her head. "You said he'll contact me, so I'll ask the live version of him then. Max would tell me the truth himself if I got a hold of him. I know he would. No. I want to talk to Sylvana."

"Oh, sweetheart. How long are you going to go on defending him?" Greer gently squeezed her fingers in a show of support.

Reine's grip on the woman's hand became more forceful in response. "As long as I believe he deserves it," she snapped without looking at the woman.

"You still love him!" Paisley interjected.

Reine stared at the table and pursed her lips. "My feelings right now are irrelevant, so let's get on with it."

"Very well," Morgan acquiesced. "There is one problem, though."

"You're holding a séance to talk to ghosts, and there's only one problem?" Noor still couldn't contain her animosity, but a sharp look from Greer subdued her. She slunk back in her chair with a quiet, "Sorry."

"What's the problem, Morgan?" Reine prodded, wanting to get started.

"These spirits - or more accurately souls - only have knowledge of what happened to them before they were last ripped from their bodies. Of course the more times they died, the more versions of them will appear, but as far as I know, neither Max nor Sylvana died recently, much less in the last century. So even if they had anything to tell us, it could be worthless."

Reine's heart sank, but she still had to try. "Tell us what to do."

Morgan nodded. "You must remain silent unless instructed to speak. Now, close your eyes and concentrate on Sylvana. Don't let any other immortal into your thoughts or we could get multiple weak contacts, but not enough energy to fully summon one."

Reine focused on the person she hated most in the world and remembered the first time she'd laid her eyes on the woman. It was the same night she became reacquainted with Max. Although it was almost five months earlier, she could still see Sylvana flirting and laughing at his stories. The woman's straight, black hair fell into her face as she leaned closer to the man who just moments before claimed to be Reine's husband.

The anger and jealousy Reine felt that night started to resurface before emptiness replaced it. While she'd been preoccupied with mourning another man for the last few months, she now unexpectedly yearned for her first love. Her breathing became shallow and rapid as she recalled Max's touch - the softness of his fingers as they caressed her face, the warmth of his lips on her own. She held her breath as she realized maybe Paisley was right, after all.

"Reine! Focus, darlin'," Morgan said, breaking the silence. "Perhaps it's better if we keep our eyes open. Just stare into the flames and think of Sylvana."

Doing as told, for about a minute nothing happened. When the table shook before a strong breeze filled the air, they all jumped. Four pair of eyes searched each other's faces for support, but Morgan maintained her control.

"Concentrate," she reminded the others as the increasingly cold wind circled around the table. The walls became lost in a blur, and the candles' flames struggled against the maelstrom. A white mist rose from the ground, slowly enveloping the entire room.