Robbergirl by S. T. Gibson

Author:S. T. Gibson [Gibson, S. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781795620031
Publisher: Eminence Publishing
Published: 2019-02-11T18:30:00+00:00

TEN

Helvig wasn't sure how long the little church had stood abandoned in the middle of the woods. The building was squat and wood-shingled, with a rusty gate hanging cockeyed from the meager perimeter fence. Part of the roof had caved in from the weight of one too many snowstorms, and the parts of the roof left standing were covered in a layer of snow so thick it looked like gingerbread frosting.

"They say the midnight mass is held for those who died in the last year and never entered into heaven or hell. Or purgatory, if the Catholics are right," Helvig said. The deafening midwinter quiet made her feel as though she should whisper. "They say God allows the shades one night a year to gather, to read the scriptures and confess and prepare their hearts to cross over from this world to the next. Some find absolution. Others choose to stay."

When Helvig had told Gerda that she might know of a way to divine whether her brother was still alive, Gerda had leapt at the chance. She had learned many methods of divination in her time as a witch's apprentice; she knew how to read candlewax dropped into water for news of upcoming marriages, and she could discern the sex of a baby from the splash of a mother’s milk, but nothing had proved sufficient in revealing anything about Kai to her outside of vague platitudes.

"It will only work if Kai died in this region, and only in the last year, but if you’re sure you tracked him up here…"

"I’m positive."

Gerda had brought Svíčka along, despite Helvig’s reminder that it was likely to make noise and spook the ghosts. Now the crow shifted constantly on her shoulder and stretched its wings out before folding them in again. It was a strange thing for a bird to do, and Helvig wondered if it was feeling nervous.

Gerda certainly was, despite her calm exterior, or else she wouldn’t have insisted on bringing along her feathered companion.

"Then the crowd will reveal whether or not he’s alive," Helvig said. "I’ve heard sometimes spirits are more likely to show up if someone who loves them is nearby."

Gerda took a step towards the church, her new boots crunching through the snow, and Helvig's hand shot out to grasp her wrist.

Gerda turned to face her, and they were suddenly very close, close enough that Helvig could see the tiny snow shavings that had gotten caught in Gerda's eyelashes. The glow of the lantern gave both of their faces an eerie cast.

"What?" The witch asked, shifting even closer.

Helvig took a shuddering breath, the air pooling in clouds around her mouth.

"Mind your step in there. If you aren't careful they will catch the fresh scent of you and fly into a rage. Ghosts cannot abide the presence of the living, not tonight all nights. This night belongs to them."

Gerda quirked a fair eyebrow. Snow was gathering in a brittle tiara on her head. "You don't think I've seen my fair share of ghosts? We're haunted things, you and I.

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