“Ahh, you do not know much of the Reavers, do you?” Ash asked. Somewhat confused by the question, Jala simply shook her head in response. He smiled faintly once more and nodded. “The more contact with spirits, the paler a Spiritcaller becomes, as the touch of death drains away all colors of life. I am tenth circle Spiritcaller and thus my coloring,” he explained, motioning toward himself with pale ivory hands to emphasize his words.
“I didn’t know. Please forgive my ignorance,” Jala replied with a slight bow of her head.
“Ignorance should never require forgiveness. There is no offense taken. My people are secretive, so such details are often unknown,” he responded, the smile still showing. “Perhaps, though, you could tell me what need you have of a Spiritcaller?”
“I need a neutral party to question spirits and verify that the answer given is the truth. Would you be willing to perform this service?” Jala kept her tone respectful and tried to choose her words with as much care as possible. From her point of view, Ash deserved more respect than most sitting at the council table, simply from the way he conducted himself.
“Possibly, if you would explain to me why I would be disturbing the dead, I could answer yes or no,” Ash replied without hesitation.
“To verify that I am who I claim to be. I need the truth from the spirits so this council does not find me guilty of a crime I’m not committing,” she explained.
Ash looked from her to the council and then back to her. “Any life mage could tell who you are by testing your blood. A mage with training in time magic could look back through the timeline to determine your origins. Why have you chosen the path of spirits?” he spoke softly and it seemed simple curiosity that fueled his questions.
“Oh, for the love of all of the Aspects, just summon the dead and get this over with,” Lady Nerathane protested, rolling her eyes and flopping heavily back into her chair.
Ash ignored the outburst completely and continued to watch Jala, waiting patiently for his answer. Jala grinned and nodded slightly and cleared her throat once. “I don’t know any life mages that I would trust with my blood. The same could be said for the mages I know that can access the timeline, with the exception of Anthe who cannot come speak for me due to the curse on her land. While I may have just learned your name, I do trust you to seek the truth from the dead for me. Even when you stood on opposite sides in Rivana, you carried yourself with honor and so I’m putting my faith in you,” she answered, keeping her gaze fixed on the Soulreaver and ignoring everyone else in the room.
“Yes, I will question the dead for you,” Ash said after a moment’s consideration.
“Who would you have me summon?” Zachary asked her, his voice a deep monotone that seemed such a harsh contrast to Ash’s lighter, more serene tones.
“Traven Merrodin and Magdelyn …,” she trailed off and frowned at Zachary. “I actually don’t know my mother’s surname,” she admitted quietly.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll use a link through you to locate the correct spirit,” Zachary said with a faint shrug. His gaze grew distant as his voice trailed off and he began to whisper in a language she wasn’t familiar with. The room began to darken slowly, taking most of the heat with it. Zachary continued the eerie whispering, his words growing in volume as his breath misted in the chill.
“Rather dramatic isn’t he?” Lady Nerathane’s voice cut through the room like a razor through silk.
“Be wary, Lady, you wouldn’t want to draw the attention of the dead to you,” Ash said, flicking his colorless gaze in her direction and then back to Zachary.
Shadows began to stir on the floor near the lord of Oblivion, subtle flickers at first and then growing more substantial as he continued the summoning. “Magdelyn,” Zachary pronounced as the first of the spirits ripped from the shadows and launched itself for the sky.
Stepping forward quickly Ash raised a hand toward the flitting spirit and beckoned it back down. With movements similar to a hummingbird, it moved through the rafters refusing his call. “Magdelyn Glendry, do not make me use force,” Ash warned quietly, his words intended for the spirit alone. “I see thee, Magdelyn, I know you and I can bind you if needed.”
“I am of Oblivion now Reaver, none may bind me,” The spirit called back to him, her hollow voice echoing in the small chamber.
Jala bit her lower lip as she watched the spirit continue to flit. In shape it looked nothing as her mother had, but there was no mistaking that voice. The last time she had heard that voice her mother had been beckoning her to safety. “Mother, please answer him. I need your help here,” Jala called softly.
“So touching,” Lord Avanti said dryly, his expression looking bored.
“How do we even know if that is truly her mother? It looks like no more than a blurry shadow to me,” Lady Nerathane objected, her upper lip curled as she regarded the spirit.
“If my Soulreaver says it is her, it is,” Lord Jexon replied flatly.
“I say it is, but I am hardly your Soulreaver, Jexon,” Ash said flatly, his eyes still following the spirit.
“Mother, please its Jala,” Jala called up to the spirit, once more ignoring the banter in the room.
“Jala?” the spirit echoed with obvious question in her voice. A rush of cold air enveloped her as it swept closer and hovered just out of reach of her hand. “My Jala, why?” The spirit trailed off, its voice becoming almost a wail. Rising once more in the air it swept across the council table leaving strands of shadows curling in its wake. “Why are you here Jala?” it called as it rose back to the rafters and then plummeted down directly in front of her.
“They doubt who I am, mother. They doubt I’m Merrodin blood,” Jala explained.
“You must tell them who she is and speak truthfully, Magdelyn,” Ash said softly, his hand rising once more to the spirit.