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Chapter 12 - Preparing for the Ritual

At home, she felt the tension in the atmosphere. She had everything but the prospect of retaliation waited for her like a shadow cloud above a storm cloud. The study had papers spread on the table at Lily, who read while her heart pounded within her.

There next to her lay the journal. She had filled in the grandmother's notes of this ritual—a combination of spells from ancient times, binding incantations, and protective incantations—how to bind the shadow. Reading the instructions revealed how much her grandmother has put her faith into the process.

"We should have a protective circle," Armitage said, breaking her reverie. "It will keep that shadow at bay while we do the binding.".

They spend the day to gather the salt and candle, then circled on the floor of the room of the study with those boundaries. When night drew near, shadows in that room intensified. Darker shadows spread, even crept over to out of the boundaries of walls as if something alive wanting to get free.

"Do you think I'm prepared?" Armitage asks himself, his dark expression visible. Lily fills her chest with air before a serious weight of responsibility and how her ancestors braved in fear.

"I am," she said, her voice firmer than she thought she could be. Hiding time was over. She had to face the darkness, for herself, for her family.

As they lit the candles and began to chant protective incantations, the air crackled with energy. Shadows around the room writhed with sharp gestures as if irritated by their refusal. Lily's heart ran wildly in the increasing darkness forming the shape she wanted to see-the shadow had emerged, grotesquely transformed, the shape twisting its form in rage.

You can't chain me! it screamed, voice echoing off the walls. I am part of you! You can't shake what you are!

Lily stood firm, held tight to the amulet. "You don't own me!" she was shouting over the tumult. "I will not be your sacrifice!

He hurled forward, but as his body crossed the threshold of that protective circle, it shrieked in convulsion. Armitage raised his voice, that chanting voice, unbroken and wild. The candles flared with a tempestuous motion, the fire fighting the darkness.