Swift Magic (The Swift Codex Book 2) by Nicolette Jinks Page A

why we're hungry. We haven't seen anyone, because there's no one to see. I can't control the wind because it isn't there.”
     
    Mordon closed his fist, snuffing out the flame. “We're in a ghost town?”
     
    “Exactly. A repeat haunting. A couple of the ghosts are conscious and can interact with us and each other, but the rest is just memories of what once was.”
     
    “Our Daae and the Grand Master. Are they the ones who have their wits about them?”
     
    “Maybe. There might be others. And the rest…if they're all caught up in some sort of spell or curse, they're stuck here, for every day of their lives—afterlives—until something breaks the cycle. That sort of thing harms the spirit.” I tapped my fist against my head, thinking.
     
    “His magic must be strong in order to withstand the beating for this long,” Mordon said, gazing at the whitecaps on the lake as they crashed against the barrier over and over again.
     
    “Mmm.”
     
    “What about the time line?”
     
    I nodded. “Ghosts will preserve relevant memories, but the longer they have them, the harder it is to present the facts in a way which makes sense. They don't know what they observed after a while, or they confuse it with one thing or another. Sometimes they forget, and if there are multiple ghosts, they'll think different things are important, and it will all mash together.”
     
    “So the story behind the haunting was already told to us,” Mordon said, thinking. “If the time line is confused, then we shouldn't evaluate it on how it played out in our chronology.”
     
    “Yes. The Grand Master's horror story—I'm thinking that was the middle of the tale, or thereabouts. And what we're seeing now tonight is the actual ending.”
     
    “So the beginning would have been with the young woman and Nathaniel.”
     
    “Right, so the young woman and Nathaniel wanted to be together, they were rejected, and, what, Nathaniel unleashed some kind of a monster storm on the camp?”
     
    “No,” said a soft, faint voice. It was the young woman. She stood beside the cauldron, gazing in fear at the rain battering the sphere around us. “We wanted to leave, but they wouldn't let me go. So we waited until night, and we got in a boat. Nathaniel was in the front. When we hit the edge of the protective circle, it trapped me inside and wouldn't let Nathaniel return. My family brought me back here in another boat, and pushed Nathaniel's out to the lake. He was so furious.”
     
    She shuddered with the memory. The air was feeling tight, constricting.
     
    “Fera?” Mordon whispered.
     
    “I feel it, too,” I said.
     
    “They thought I couldn't do anything. I wasn't a water or fire elemental. What could I do?” The tears ran down her cheeks. “I just wanted them to let me go. It happened in a few minutes, that was all, and they were all dead. I'd killed them. I couldn't breathe, they couldn't either. I didn't mean for it to happen, I didn't, but I panicked and I couldn't leave, and next I know…we're dead.”
     
    The young woman started to sob. “I'm so sorry. I don't mean to. I'm sorry.”
     
    I started for the door.
     
    “You can't leave. You came in, you can't go back out. None of the others who came here could leave, either.”
     

Chapter Fourteen
     
    My heart pounded in my chest, and I let out a slow breath. Mordon looked worried, like he didn't want to ask what fate befell the others.
     
    “It's the protective circle,” I said. “Someone modified it so that the only ones who could leave were the ones given permission to.”
     
    “But if this is a residual haunt…” Mordon said.
     
    I shook my head and held up my palm, bleeding where splinters had cut in it. “Some aspects are residual, but not all of them.”
     
    “I'm so sorry,” the young woman said again. “It'll be soon.”
     
    We heard the splashing of oars. The next bolt of lightning revealed the whole camp returning to the docks, a wailing young woman