Lily of Lumley Castle - Exclusive Preview!

Prologue

  The first time Lily summoned a spirit from the realm of the dead, she found that the reality of necromantic magic was far less gruesome than her imagination would have her believe. She hadn’t conjured a sinister apparition, a spectre, or a blood curdling demon. The spirit she’d lured from the deep recesses of death was little more than a tiny orb of light, flitting in and out of the darkness as if it were atop the mast of a miniature boat, guiding it across choppy seas and threatening to sink out of sight at any moment.

   It was a precariously dainty thing, and Lily quickly grew fond of its quaint and haphazard charm. Even though it had been awoken abruptly and drawn unwittingly into the living sphere, it was calm, serene and gentle, carefully exploring its dark surroundings.

   Lily shouldn’t have been in her father’s reading room, especially not alone and in the middle of the night. His valuable lore books and crystal ball were strictly out of bounds, but the allure of magic was intoxicating, and her thirst for knowledge almost always outweighed her desire to obey her father’s rules.

   Every night, for as long as she could remember, she’d waited for the house to grow dark, for the candles to die out and for the stars to gleam in the black velvety sky before tip-toing from her bedchamber down to her father’s reading room. The door was always kept firmly locked of course, but Lily knew that her father kept a spare key hidden in a vase in the drawing room. It was easy enough to make a small detour, climb up onto the carved wooden chair by the fireplace and retrieve the key from inside the vase. Lily’s hand was small enough to fit right in and grasp the solid silver key easily.  

   The reading room was shrouded in silence, but for the tap-tap-tapping of a restless crow at the arched window. It peered in through hollow eyes, beating its wings and scratching at the thick glass with outstretched claws. Lily turned to face the beast.  

   ‘Shush now,’ she said, her soothing voice melting into the whisp of night air.  The bird was lulled by her words, and so tucked its wings into its body and stilled, at peace with the wintry darkness of the cold December night.  

   The conjured spirit drifted gracefully over to the wall of books on the far side of the room, illuminating the spines of the heavy volumes, gold leaf lettering glittering in the warmth of the orb’s light. Lily sat deathly still at her father’s writing desk, her intense green eyes following the orb’s every move.

   An open book lay on the desk, its pages kept from closing by a large ruby paperweight in the shape of a butterfly. The book was called, Necromantic Theory and Technique. Of all her father’s lore books, this one intrigued her the most, and she’d spent weeks learning the incantation needed to beckon the spirit from the realm of the dead. She’d practiced and practiced until the words were solid in her mind and flowed easily from her lips. 

   She crept slowly towards the spirit orb, careful not to disturb it. A calming twinkle radiated from its core, warm and sparkling, like a cluster of shooting stars. Up close, it lit up Lily’s eyes like fireflies and the warmth drew her in. She gazed into its centre, not daring to blink. She didn't want to miss a single moment of the spectacle before her.  

   The energy within the orb was shifting, swirling and coiling within itself, becoming more solid with every ripple of its molten surface. Lily reached out instinctively with one hand, forgetting all trepidation and magical etiquette. It looked solid enough to simply pluck from the air and hold like a trinket, but just as she lay her hand on the spirit, there was a silent burst, and it was gone.  

   The light of the moon made no inroads into the depths of the house, so Lily, unsighted, felt around on the desk for a candle. She pressed the wick between her forefinger and thumb, and when she released her grip, the candle sparked effortlessly into life.  

   After lighting two more candles, she carefully closed the lore book and placed it delicately back onto the shelf. Everything had to be precisely where her father had left it, or he would know she’d been prying, and she couldn’t risk being discovered.

   Lily had learned a great deal about magic, and her longing to know all she could about the ways of The Magisters’ Council and her father’s sect, The Sapiens, was overpowering. She had no desire for tapestry or elocution. She’d rather run away and become a creature of the forest than waste her days sewing and engaging in idle chitter chatter with the ladies of the village, no matter how much it displeased her father.

   She draped the heavy velvet cloth back over the crystal ball, taking care to layer it evenly, just as she’d found it. After picking up the ornate silver key and blowing out the candles, she made her way to the door and turned her face to the window. The crow was deathly still, watching her every move.  

   ‘Go home,’ she whispered.  

    The bird squawked, spread its wings, and flew away into the night.