Kaspar watched Brandos fold his hands and bow his head in supplication, beginning the last of the lengthy prayers that would unlock the divine powers of his god. The gnome stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the trestle table that held the body of Father Francis. Somewhere in the darkness of the church naive around them a scuffling noise and several desperate squeaks indicated that Ssibliss was nearby and had probably caught a mouse or rat.
Brandos’ voice raised slightly and then settled into silence as he climbed to his feet, dusting off his knees. Kaspar stepped towards the uncovered corpse of the baker’s wife, Kella Brinewood, to better observe the proceedings. He and Brandos had carefully considered the questions that would be asked of the body. The spell was only powerful enough to compel the shade to answer three questions so they had to be cautious to maximize the information.
A shudder ran through Kella’s broken limbs and shattered torso. Her chest lifted in the plain white shroud that had been sewn about her, as though she were taking breath. Kasper’s pulse quickened as he watched the distant, dead eyes snap open and the head twist towards the young monk. Her mouth opened as she awaited his queries.
Kasper knew that they were not truly communicating with the spirit of the dead woman, but merely with the memories that were imprinted on the flesh of her corpse. He absently played with a corner of the sheet that had covered the body while Brandos asked the first of their questions…