Read Online Spirit Prophecy (The Gateway Trilogy Book 2) by E.E. Holmes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: E.E. Holmes
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wailing melody began to reverberate through the hall. Every head turned to the rafters where an auburn-haired woman in a long white dress was playing a sort of rustic set of panpipes from the balcony. Then a second melody rose to meet and intertwine with the first, this time played on violin by a blonde woman. By squinting into the shadows, I realized that the blonde woman was Catriona. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been casually lounging on my window seat in my bedroom in the dead of night as though she and Lucida hadn’t just broken in. Seeing her now, like a wraith in the rafters, was nearly as dreamlike and surreal as that first time we met.
The music signaled the start of the procession. As we shuffled forward, torches and lanterns all along the stone edifices flared to life. With a deafening groan, the great front doors creaked open to reveal a sky on the rosy brink of twilight. We crunched along a gravel path between the trees, and entered the central courtyard for the first time.
The courtyard was circular, flanked by the curved inner walls of the castle itself. The four turreted towers loomed over the space, which contained a wide, perfectly round pathway of stone and, at its very center, a crumbling archway raised on an ancient stone dais. It looked as though someone had transported one of the famous mystical structures of Stonehenge right into our midst. I could barely take my eyes from the thing, so strong was its allure.
“What is it?” Hannah whispered.
I managed to tear my eyes away from it for long enough to see that her expression was enraptured. “I don’t know.”
I looked around us. Every face was staring at the archway with unmitigated reverence. A thrill of terror jolted through me like electricity. To be so close to something that had so much power; that could, I knew, hold us here or cast us off, or even simply swallow us all. All it would take was one tiny, tempting pulse of energy, and I knew I would have no choice but to sprint right through it to whatever lay beyond. It was, I realized, a physical manifestation of the Geatgrima, the Gateway which lived in each of us.
The Apprentices formed a circle on the inner walkway and turned to face the center. Then the music swelled with the addition of bagpipes and the Durupinen processed in. Each was dressed in a long white gown with a clan sash, each carrying a lit white taper in a gold candle holder. The expression on every face was eerily similar; reverent and peaceful. I felt a sudden flutter of panic as I wondered if they’d all been hypnotized or brainwashed or something. They walked in two by two, though here and there one of them walked alone. Karen was one of solitary ones, and I knew that the empty space beside her was meant to be my mother’s. The absence of her suddenly expanded inside me, a silent explosion, and I forced myself to look away before it consumed me.
I concentrated instead on the other faces parading past. Though some of the women were quite average-looking, a disproportionate number of them were strangely beautiful—that same flawless, airbrushed sort of beauty that I had noticed at once when meeting Catriona and Lucida for the first time. It was thoroughly disconcerting, and somehow I had a feeling it had little to do with moisturizer and expensive hair care products. I mean, Karen was attractive, but not in that almost eerie, otherworldly sort of way. It was like the freaking Stepford Wives out here. I scanned the Apprentices around me, but none of them shared this preternatural glamor, as far as I could tell.
The music changed again, its melody shifting from something that floated and buffeted on the wind to a regal sort of march. The Durupinen formed a larger circle around our smaller one, and then turned expectantly toward the North Tower. The Apprentices followed suit. Two columns of Caomhnóir filed in strict formation from the tower doors and spread out across the ramparts where they turned, as one,
The music signaled the start of the procession. As we shuffled forward, torches and lanterns all along the stone edifices flared to life. With a deafening groan, the great front doors creaked open to reveal a sky on the rosy brink of twilight. We crunched along a gravel path between the trees, and entered the central courtyard for the first time.
The courtyard was circular, flanked by the curved inner walls of the castle itself. The four turreted towers loomed over the space, which contained a wide, perfectly round pathway of stone and, at its very center, a crumbling archway raised on an ancient stone dais. It looked as though someone had transported one of the famous mystical structures of Stonehenge right into our midst. I could barely take my eyes from the thing, so strong was its allure.
“What is it?” Hannah whispered.
I managed to tear my eyes away from it for long enough to see that her expression was enraptured. “I don’t know.”
I looked around us. Every face was staring at the archway with unmitigated reverence. A thrill of terror jolted through me like electricity. To be so close to something that had so much power; that could, I knew, hold us here or cast us off, or even simply swallow us all. All it would take was one tiny, tempting pulse of energy, and I knew I would have no choice but to sprint right through it to whatever lay beyond. It was, I realized, a physical manifestation of the Geatgrima, the Gateway which lived in each of us.
The Apprentices formed a circle on the inner walkway and turned to face the center. Then the music swelled with the addition of bagpipes and the Durupinen processed in. Each was dressed in a long white gown with a clan sash, each carrying a lit white taper in a gold candle holder. The expression on every face was eerily similar; reverent and peaceful. I felt a sudden flutter of panic as I wondered if they’d all been hypnotized or brainwashed or something. They walked in two by two, though here and there one of them walked alone. Karen was one of solitary ones, and I knew that the empty space beside her was meant to be my mother’s. The absence of her suddenly expanded inside me, a silent explosion, and I forced myself to look away before it consumed me.
I concentrated instead on the other faces parading past. Though some of the women were quite average-looking, a disproportionate number of them were strangely beautiful—that same flawless, airbrushed sort of beauty that I had noticed at once when meeting Catriona and Lucida for the first time. It was thoroughly disconcerting, and somehow I had a feeling it had little to do with moisturizer and expensive hair care products. I mean, Karen was attractive, but not in that almost eerie, otherworldly sort of way. It was like the freaking Stepford Wives out here. I scanned the Apprentices around me, but none of them shared this preternatural glamor, as far as I could tell.
The music changed again, its melody shifting from something that floated and buffeted on the wind to a regal sort of march. The Durupinen formed a larger circle around our smaller one, and then turned expectantly toward the North Tower. The Apprentices followed suit. Two columns of Caomhnóir filed in strict formation from the tower doors and spread out across the ramparts where they turned, as one,
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