Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

My private chambers felt different at three in the morning, shadows thick with possibility and menace.
The collection of ancient skulls that lined my shelves seemed to watch with hollow anticipation as I prepared for the most important communion of my life.
I'd changed from formal court dress into the simple black robes I wore for necromantic work, their fabric inscribed with protective symbols that would help focus my power. The Mourning Blade lay across my altar, its dark metal serving as an anchor for the death energies I was about to channel.
But tonight's communion would be different from my usual conversations with long-dead ancestors.
Tonight, I intended to speak with my mother's spirit directly, to learn the truth about her death and the conspiracy that had shaped my entire life.
The problem was that her soul was supposedly trapped in magical bindings, used as fuel for the cult's workings. If Prince Aldric had spoken truthfully, reaching her would require breaking through layers of protective enchantment that had been specifically designed to prevent contact.
I arranged the materials I'd need in careful patterns around the altar: silver coins for crossing the boundary between worlds, black candles for calling the dead, salt for protection against hostile spirits, and at the center, my mother's pendant—the one piece of her that had been closest to her heart.
The first skull I lifted was ancient, its bone yellowed with age and worn smooth by countless communions.
King Aldric the First, my great-great-grandfather, whose necromantic gifts had founded our family's connection to the death realm.
"Ancient king," I whispered, placing my hands on the skull's temples. "I call upon your wisdom to guide me through the shadows between worlds."
Power flowed through me like ice water, carrying with it the weight of centuries and the accumulated knowledge of the dead. The skull's eye sockets began to glow with pale blue light as the spirit within stirred to attention.
"Child of my blood," the voice echoed in my mind, formal and distant. "You walk dangerous paths tonight.
The barriers you seek to cross were forged by powers that predate our kingdom."
"I need to reach my mother's spirit. She has answers that the living cannot provide."
"Your mother's essence is bound in chains of living pain, guarded by spirits that feast on despair. To reach her, you must be willing to experience every moment of agony she has endured since her death."
The warning sent chills through my blood, but I'd expected something like this. Magical bindings of the type Prince Aldric had described would naturally be protected against rescue attempts.
"I'm willing to pay that price."
"Are you willing to pay the price for those who would follow you into that darkness? The ritual you contemplate will require multiple participants, and the cult's guardians will strike at all who dare approach their prisoner."
I hesitated. If what he implied was true, then attempting to free my mother might endanger Prince Aldric —assuming he was genuinely trying to help rather than manipulate me into a trap.
"How many participants would the ritual require?"
"A minimum of three. One to anchor the connection, one to provide power, one to maintain defenses against the guardians. But child, be certain of your allies before you begin. The binding works both ways.
Those who help you will share your fate if the ritual fails."
The skull's glow faded as the ancient king's spirit retreated, leaving me alone with the weight of decision.
Three participants meant I needed to trust at least two other people with my life. Prince Aldric was one possibility, but who else could I rely on?
I lifted the second skull, this one more recent—my grandfather, who had died when I was twelve, but whose spirit had always been protective of family interests.
"Grandfather," I said, channeling power through the familiar connection. "I need guidance about trust and betrayal."
The response came immediately, warmer and more personal than the ancient king's formal pronouncements.
"Granddaughter, your heart is troubled by questions that have plagued our family for generations. The young prince who arrived tonight carries the scent of truth, but also the stain of difficult choices."
"Is he an ally or enemy?"
"He is both and neither. His loyalty is to a cause that sometimes aligns with our interests and sometimes opposes them. But his commitment to that cause is genuine, and his willingness to sacrifice himself for it is real."
Not the clear answer I'd hoped for, but more nuanced than I'd feared. Prince Aldric appeared to be exactly what he claimed—someone fighting for a larger cause, even when that cause required personal sacrifice.
"And the documents he provided? Are they genuine?"
"The writing is your mother's, but the plan has been modified since her death. What she originally intended was a smaller working, designed to protect you specifically. What he proposes is far more ambitious and far more dangerous."
"More dangerous, how?"
"Your mother's ritual would have freed her spirit and severed your connection to the cult's bindings. His modified version seeks to use that connection to destroy every binding they've created across multiple kingdoms. The scope of power required ." The spirit's voice trailed off, heavy with concern.
"Could kill me," I finished.
"Could kill everyone involved, and possibly everyone within a dozen miles of the ritual site. The energies you're contemplating are not meant to be channeled through mortal forms."
I set down my grandfather's skull, processing this revelation. Prince Aldric hadn't lied about the basic facts, but he'd understated the risks involved. His plan wasn't just dangerous—it was potentially catastrophic.
But then, so was allowing the cult to continue its operations unchecked.
I lifted the third skull, the most recent addition to my collection. Lady Morwyn had been a court mage who'd died three years ago under mysterious circumstances. If anyone would understand the technical aspects of what I was contemplating, it would be her.
"Lady Morwyn," I called, channeling power through her remains. "I need to understand magical theory that may be beyond my current knowledge."
Her spirit responded with the sharp intelligence I remembered from life, tinged with the bitter knowledge that came from discovering dangerous truths too late.
"Princess, you're considering a work that killed me when I merely investigated its theoretical foundations.
The cult's binding network isn't just magical—it's parasitic. Every soul they've trapped feeds power back into the system, making it stronger and more resilient."
"Which means freeing one trapped soul would weaken the entire network?"
"Yes, but it would also trigger defensive responses from every other binding in the system. You wouldn't just be fighting the guardians around your mother's spirit—you'd be fighting the accumulated power of every royal bloodline they've compromised over the past century."
The scope of what I was contemplating expanded beyond anything I'd imagined. Not just a rescue mission, but a direct assault on an enemy whose true strength I was only beginning to understand.
"Is there any way to succeed without the risks Prince Aldric's plan entails?"
"There might be, but it would require a different approach entirely. Instead of trying to break the bindings through brute force, you could try to corrupt them from within. Use your connection to the death realm to introduce a virus, of sorts, into their network."
"What kind of virus?"
"The one thing their system wasn't designed to handle—a willing spirit that refuses to be bound. If you could get close enough to the network's core, you could potentially unravel the entire system by giving it something it can't process."
The idea was intriguing but raised obvious questions about implementation. "How would I get close enough to the core?"
"By allowing yourself to be bound as they intend, but maintaining your will and connection to the death realm throughout the process. It would require incredible discipline and preparation, but it might be possible."
"And the risks?"
"If you succeed, you free every trapped soul and destroy the cult's power base. If you fail, you become their most powerful prisoner, and your abilities are turned against everyone you've ever tried to protect."
I set down Lady Morwyn's skull, my mind spinning with possibilities. Three different approaches, each with its advantages and dangers. The brute force method Prince Aldric proposed, the subtle corruption Lady Morwyn suggested, or some combination of both that might maximize success while minimizing risk.
But first, I needed to attempt the one communion that might provide the clearest guidance of all.
I lifted my mother's pendant, holding it against the final skull in my collection—a nameless artifact I'd found in the castle's deepest vaults, so old its origins were lost to history. This skull had always been the most powerful conduit in my collection, capable of reaching spirits that others couldn't touch.
"Ancient one," I whispered, pouring more power into the connection than I'd ever channeled before.
"Help me reach the spirit of Queen Isabella Blackthorne, wherever she may be bound."
The skull erupted with light that nearly blinded me, power surging through the connection with enough force to make my bones ache. But instead of the usual controlled communion, this felt like being caught in a magical storm, pulled into currents of force that threatened to tear my consciousness apart.
And then, through the chaos, I heard her voice.
"My daughter."
The words came wrapped in such love and pain that I nearly lost my focus entirely. But I forced myself to maintain the connection, to reach through the barriers that separated us.
"Mother, I've learned the truth about your death. About the conspiracy, about my betrothal, about everything."
"I know, child. I've been watching, even from within these chains. You've grown so strong, so clever. I'm proud of the woman you've become."
"I need to know what you planned. What you intended me to do."
"I intended you to survive, to live free from the bindings that have trapped our bloodline for generations. But circumstances have changed, and now survival may not be enough."
"Prince Aldric says you left plans for a ritual that could destroy the entire cult network."
"The prince speaks truth, but not complete truth. The ritual exists, but it was never meant to be performed by the living. It requires a willing sacrifice from someone already bound to the network—someone who can corrupt the system from within."
Understanding hit me like a physical blow. "You mean you. You're planning to sacrifice yourself permanently to save everyone else."
"I died ten years ago, daughter. What remains of me now is purpose, not life. If my destruction can free all the other souls they've trapped, then it's a fair trade."
"No." The word came out with more force than I'd intended. "I won't let you sacrifice yourself again. There has to be another way."
"Perhaps there is. But it would require you to trust allies whose loyalties are divided, and to risk not just your own life, but the lives of everyone you're trying to protect."
"Tell me."
"The ritual can be modified to draw power from willing participants rather than requiring a permanent sacrifice. But the participants must be completely committed to the cause, and they must be able to channel death energy without being consumed by it."
"How many participants?"
"Seven, arranged in a specific pattern around the binding circle. One at the center to direct the working, six to provide power, and maintain defenses. But daughter, if even one of the seven wavers in their commitment, the entire ritual will collapse and everyone involved will die."
Seven people. I had to find six others willing to risk their lives on the chance that we could destroy a centuries-old conspiracy. Six people I could trust completely with the most dangerous magical working in recorded history.
"And if we succeed?"
"Every soul the cult has trapped will be freed, their binding network will collapse, and their accumulated power will be returned to the bloodlines they stole it from. But the release of that much magical energy at once ."
"Could destroy everything for miles around," I finished. "Lady Morwyn warned me about that."
"Lady Morwyn was wise. The ritual site must be carefully chosen, far from populated areas, with specific geographical features to help channel and dissipate the released energy."
The communication was becoming harder to maintain, the ancient skull's power beginning to wane under the strain of reaching through the cult's barriers. But I had one more crucial question.
"Mother, do you trust Prince Aldric?"
"I trust his commitment to destroying the cult. Whether that commitment extends to protecting you personally, that remains to be seen. Be careful, daughter. He fights for justice, but his definition of acceptable sacrifice may be broader than yours."
The connection snapped, leaving me alone in my chambers with the weight of impossible decisions.
Seven participants for a ritual that could save hundreds of trapped souls, but might destroy everyone involved. Prince Aldric is a necessary but potentially dangerous ally. And only five days to find the additional participants and prepare for the most important magical working of my lifetime.
I extinguished the candles and returned the skulls to their places, but sleep was impossible. Too many questions, too many risks, too many lives hanging in the balance.
By dawn, I needed to have a plan. By sunset, I needed to begin implementing it.
The war against the cult was about to begin in earnest.