A Hold of Spectres
Part 3
Chapter 2

Another few weeks passed, and the voices came and went, sometimes bothering her relentlessly every single day, and sometimes leaving her alone for days at a time. It was aggravating; just when she felt as though she was free of them, they would return, and usually with a new voice joining the others. There had been as many as six voices, but mostly she was haunted by a specific two: the woman’s voice she called Oraneth, and the man’s she called Nostron. These weren’t their real names, but they helped her keep track of them. She had decided if she couldn’t control them or get rid of them, she would learn as much about them as she could; when they were most active, how often they showed up together and as individuals, and most importantly, the things she did that seemed to antagonize them. 

It took a bit of time, but she realized that they never moved her furniture or tugged at her hair unless they felt provoked. This was an interesting development because it seemed to imply that they were impacted by her choices and her words. Simply put, if she hurt their feelings, they lashed out. Rhaean hadn’t yet determined how she had hurt their feelings, and so there had been several sleepless nights. She had tried apologizing to them for whatever she had done to upset them, but this only made them laugh and continue scraping her chair across the floor, or picking up her books and tossing them to the other side of the room. 

It wasn’t that she wanted to be friendly with them. On the contrary, she wanted them out of her room and away from her for good. But she did want to know if there was any way she could convince them to leave her alone, if, perhaps, she tried to befriend them, maybe she could discover whatever it was they wanted, and give it to them. She had no idea if it would work, but it was better than suffering in silence. 

“Still reading the same book?” said Nostron from just above her head. 

“Yes,” Rhaean said, careful to keep any annoyance out of her voice. 

“Why?”

“Because it’s been assigned to us,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the page. 

“But it looks dull,” he said, flipping some of the pages. Rhaean could see the pages turn, but the hand that turned them was invisible. “And you’ve been reading for hours.”

“Yes,” said Oraneth, “hours and hours.”

Rhaean did not respond. There was no telling what their reactions would be when they were in moods like this. Boredom most often led them to annoy her heavily in an attempt to entertain themselves, and usually it didn’t matter if she ignored them or lashed out, they would turn hostile at some point. Rhaean had not yet figured out how to pacify them. 

“Is there something you’d like to do?” she asked, looking up from her book. “Since you’re bored?”

They both squealed and giggled in an almost child-like way. 

“Us? Do things?” asked Oraneth.

“We can’t, silly,” said Nostron.

“How would we do anything at all?” asked Oraneth again.

“Alright,” Rhaean said, holding up her hands, “then what is it you want?”

They were both quiet for a moment. 

“Are you mad?” asked Nostron.

“No,” Rhaean said, hoping they couldn’t also sense her emotions. Because while she was not made, she was very much annoyed and wished to be left alone. “I am just hoping to complete this assignment before tomorrow’s lecture, and I thought if we addressed whatever it is the two of you want, then perhaps we could agree that you would then leave me alone to study?”

Silence filled the room, but Rhaean could tell she was not alone. After a few moments, cold breath hit the side of her neck and lower jawline. 

“You don’t want to know what we want,” said Nostron.

“You cannot not handle what we want,” said Oraneth. 

Fear crawled down Rhaean’s spine. Their voices had turned low and raspy, almost as though they were gasping for breath at the last moments of life. It made her feel as though she were being thrust back in time to their deathbeds, forced to watch and listen as they wheezed and resisted the sway of death as it came for them. She could almost even see them in her mind, and it didn’t matter how tightly she closed her eyes, the images remained. 

When she opened her eyes again, she wasn’t in her room. She was standing outside, her bare feet buried in the cold snow. Which couldn’t be right, because it was summer in Utara. Not winter, and even as high up in the mountains as they were, it wasn’t cold enough to snow. Not this much. She looked around confusedly, unsure of what was happening. She hadn’t left her room, had she? 

“Hello?” she shouted, her voice muted by the heavily falling snow around her. 

“Rhaean?”

Rhaean froze and gasped, her eyes wide. “Scarlet?” Only the sound of falling snow filled her ears. “Scarlet! Where are you? I’m here!”

“Rhaean!” It was Scarlet’s voice again, but farther away and frantic. “Please, help me!”

She was running now, paying no mind to how numb her feet felt. Scarlet was calling for help, and she would not abandon her. She tried calling out her name for some indication of where to go, but her voice fell flat as it left her mouth. 

“Scarlet!” she shouted. 

Then, she heard the giggles of Oraneth and Nostron. 

“Where is she?” Rhaean demanded. 

“Where’s who?” Nostron asked, giggling all the while as his voice floated around her.

“Scarlet!” she demanded. “Where is Scarlet? What have you done with her?”

“We didn’t do anything,” said Oraneth. “But we saw what happened.”

Her heart was racing now. It couldn’t be true. Scarlet was safe; her mother had promised she would be. She had sworn it. 

“I don’t believe you!” she said, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “My mother promised she was safe!”

They both howled with laughter, their voices echoing around her, despite the snow. 

“Your mother lied!” exclaimed Oraneth. “She always lies!”

Rhaean was sobbing uncontrollably. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel; she knew only the profound sadness and grief of even the possibility that something horrible had happened to her dearest friend, the only friend she’d ever had. She couldn’t bear the thought that her mother might have been responsible for any harm that had befallen Scarlet, assuming it had. She didn’t know whether or not to believe these two spirits, or to believe her mother, the woman who made her loathing or Rhaea as apparent as the rushing wind around her now. 

In the next moment, the snow was gone and Rhaean was back in Fire’s Hearth, only she wasn’t in her room. She was in the foyer, on the ground, laying on her side. She was dizzy and felt she would be sick. 

“Rhaean?” a voice said above her, gently. 

She opened her eyes and found Ygritte cradling her head in her lap. Rhaean furrowed her eyebrows. “What happened?”

Ygritte sighed heavily, clearly relieved. “Thank the gods. I thought I was going to have to tell your mother that you were dead.”

“What?” Rhaean asked. “Dead? I don’t understand,” she said, sitting up slowly. 

“You walked into the foyer at the same time I did, only you weren’t awake,” Ygritte said. “Your eyes kept fluttering, but never fully opened. And when you collapsed, I caught you, but you were so limp. You weren’t breathing and I thought…” The girl shuddered. “I am glad you are alright.”

Rhaean stared at her, unsure of how to process what she had just been told. She had been sleepwalking? But she hadn’t been asleep – what she had seen and heard in the snow, she had not been asleep, that she knew for certain. She didn’t know what else to call it though, and so she said nothing of it to Ygritte. She simply smiled softly. 

“Thank you for making sure I was alright. I must have been sleep walking,” she said, standing on her feet. “Please don’t tell my mother about this. I don’t need another lecture.”

Ygritte smiled and nodded. “You have my word. Can I walk you back to your room?”

“No,” Rhaean said, a little too quickly. “I’m fine. I just need to lie down.”

She could tell that Ygritte was hesitant to let her go, but she did not argue. She stayed where she was as Rhaean made her way back to her room. She shut her door and locked it behind her, before falling onto her bed, exhausted. 

“We said you couldn’t handle it,” Oraneth whispered in her ear.