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Spirit Whispers

Page 8

by Cadie Snow


  But the path ended there. Either Abigail hadn’t dreamed more about the subject, or she hadn’t filled in the logbook. There was one other random note about Elijah appearing her dream and drawing her closer. That made Jaime’s skin crawl.

  It was awful to think of Abigail dreaming about her stepfather. He hadn’t behaved like the sorcerer he truly was, only showed up as a father image. But Jaime wasn’t deceived. Elijah was black-hearted, so if Abigail was dreaming about his fatherly qualities, the real message was veiled.

  Jaime put the journal away and went to the window. She drew back the curtain and looked out. The forest was so peaceful, contrasting with the turbulence Jaime felt. She was torn. On the one hand, she had to devote all her attention to saving Harper. But Abigail was clearly in danger…with only Jaime to rescue her.

  Chapter 9

  It was still early in the day and the forest beckoned. Jaime decided to spare a few minutes to walk in nature. She wished that her mother Adele hadn’t died at an early age and wished she could speak to her—that she could rely on her mother, as she had growing up.

  First it had been Adele who passed on, then her sister Iris. Both deaths had been unexpected. And now the leadership of the coven was in Jaime’s hands. The way things were going, she wondered if she stood any chance of living to an old age or would die far too young like her dear relatives.

  The forest was warm and pleasant. Leaves crunched under Jaime’s feet and the sun burned in the stark blue sky. She breathed in the fresh air and embraced the beauty around her. But her stroll down the path wasn’t peaceful.

  Jaime was filled with turmoil. She walked deep into the forest and found her favorite resting spot. She climbed onto the flat rock and hugged her knees. “Mama…” Jaime closed her eyes and envisioned her mother. She saw how lovely she’d been with her wavy blond hair and deep brown eyes.

  Jaime’s eyes were a softer brown, more caramel, and her hair was a darker blond. But she had her mother’s features, although she was more petite. Her mother had been tall like Harper, but Jaime was barely five feet two.

  It didn’t seem that fate considered Jaime’s small stature when doling out responsibility. To defeat enemies of the coven required strength, although not of a physical nature. As a witch and coven leader, Jaime relied on her psychic abilities.

  Lately, Jaime hadn’t been sure that was enough. She felt surrounded and overwhelmed by stronger powers. But she reached deep for inner fortitude, refusing to give up. So much was at stake. She couldn’t allow the evil that had wound its way into her family to win.

  But Jaime was so alone. Her mother had held things together by herself, too. Jaime’s father had died in a noble battle when she’d been very young—before she’d had a chance to know him. Yet there was no use whining about her role. If her mother had managed on her own, then Jaime could too.

  Jaime loved her mother so much. “I miss you, Mama.” Then she poured out her heart. She began sharing what had happened over the last few days, and her eyes welled with tears. “I won’t let you down. The family means everything, and I swear that I will stand between us—the good witches—and the evil that would destroy all.”

  There was no reply, but Jaime sensed that her mother understood. She felt close to her mother and knew that she was there—in spirit though not in body. She hesitated to break the connection, so lingered a bit longer.

  When Jaime opened her eyes, she saw Dahlia floating nearby. The ghost’s white cape fluttered in an unseen breeze. Her dress disappeared below the knee, as did her feet. But her face was clear.

  Dahlia smiled. “Hello, Jaime. It’s always a pleasure to see you in the forest.”

  “I envy you sometimes,” Jaime said. “It wouldn’t be so bad to lose my troubles here among the trees.”

  “Yes, I heard you have many,” Dahlia said. “For one so small, you take on big challenges.”

  “I don’t set out to do that. Problems just seem to find me.”

  “I have faith that you will find solutions,” Dahlia said. “I may be able to help with one.”

  “Really? That would be good.”

  “Elizabeth May Potter was well known around here,” Dahlia said. “It was a long time ago, which gives you an idea about how many years I’ve inhabited this forest.”

  “What can you tell me that might be useful?”

  “Rumors flew about Elizabeth, since she was a talked-about socialite.”

  “Can you be more specific?” Jaime said.

  “Her private life wasn’t spoken of in polite company,” Dahlia said. “But that didn’t stop anyone from gossiping. And the word was that her husband Albert was abusive. He had a temper when he got drunk and took his frustrations out on his wife.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Everyone thought so,” Dahlia said. “It was an arranged marriage. That was still done in those days. Her father was quite wealthy and intended to choose a good husband for his only daughter.”

  “It doesn’t sound like he did such a good job of that.”

  “I suppose not,” Dahlia said. “From what I heard, Albert was conniving. It was likely he manipulated the situation to his advantage. That was the talk back then, anyway.”

  “It’s no wonder that Elizabeth fell in love with another man.”

  “May I tell you a secret?” Dahlia said. “Although it wasn’t much of a secret after the rumors began.”

  Jaime waited.

  Dahlia hovered close and whispered, “Elizabeth had been in love with her second husband, William Potter, before she ever married Albert.”

  “That must have been quite the scandal.”

  “It was assumed that Albert knew,” Dahlia said. “But he married her anyway, for her money. Yet I imagine knowing that his wife loved another incited his rage.”

  The history of Elizabeth and her dress came into sharper focus. Jaime thanked Dahlia, then headed back to the house to face whatever was ahead. She would find a way to conquer the threats that abounded; she just had to get tougher.

  Jaime hadn’t been inside for very long when Olivia called. “The doctor visited Harper. He just left.”

  “How is she?”

  “Harper’s fever is still way too high,” Olivia said. “That rash has spread over her whole body and her lymph nodes are swollen and tender. The worry is that her symptoms haven’t abated.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “There are complications,” Olivia said. “She has developed additional symptoms, such as those chest pains she complained of—and the nosebleeds and sore joints. The doctor said those are a sign of rheumatic fever, an inflammatory disease that can affect the heart, joints, skin, and brain.”

  “Is it curable?”

  “In many cases, the doctor could expect a full recovery with proper treatment,” Olivia said. “But he’s very concerned, because Harper doesn’t seem to respond to any medications.”

  “And we know why,” Jaime said. “Come and pick me up. We need to look in the Book of Shadows. There has to be something that we’ve missed.”

  Jaime fought desperation that welled in her chest and paced the floor, waiting for Olivia. When the car pulled up, she raced down the walk and got in. “I’m determined to find an answer. I only hope it’s not too late.”

  Olivia didn’t argue; she focused on the road, driving as fast as the speed limit would allow. It wasn’t long before she pulled into the driveway and parked.

  The Victorian house was a welcome sight. Jaime always felt good there. The home had so much history, and it had been imbued with magic. Inside its enchanted walls was the only safe hiding place for the Book of Shadows. Jaime walked briskly, heading for the front door and a possible solution.

  Vibrations emanated from the home, halting Jaime in her tracks.

  “What is it?” Olivia said. “Why did you stop?”

  Panic riddled Jaime’s belly. “I sense a threat inside; the book’s security is at risk. As its rightful owner, I have a special connection
with it.”

  Gently, Jaime turned the doorknob to discover that the door was already unlocked. She tiptoed into the foyer with Olivia behind her, then she listened.

  For a moment, Jaime was greeted with silence. Then a familiar voice spoke words she recognized. “Your magic rightfully belongs in my hands.” Abigail…she was calling forth the magical book.

  Jaime stepped into the living room, and Olivia followed.

  Abigail’s hands were lifted, and she furrowed her brow then repeated the incantation.

  “Abigail?” Jaime walked over to her. “What are you doing here?”

  Abigail froze. “Mama…”

  “You’re supposed to be in school.” Jaime realized that was the least of it.

  “You don’t understand,” Abigail said.

  “I think your mother understands perfectly well,” Olivia said, crossing her arms.

  “It’s forbidden for anyone else to call forth the Book of Shadows,” Jaime said. “You know that.”

  “I’m not a child anymore,” Abigail said. “It’s time for me to make my own decisions.” She had an odd expression.

  Jaime reached out. “Come here and sit down. We need to have a talk.”

  “I’m in trouble, and only this book can help me.” A tear rolled down Abigail’s cheek. “I thought that Eve was my friend. She is my friend.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you, honey?”

  “It’s important…very important that I get that book,” Abigail said, then hesitated. “I…thought Eve was my best friend.”

  Jaime put her arms around Abigail. “It was a trick, so you would retrieve the book and give it to her. But that wouldn’t have worked. The book is protected in this home, and it cannot be taken.”

  Abigail looked up with teary eyes.

  “Plus, there was a vital part of that incantation that was missing,” Jaime said. “I am your rightful owner must be spoken. And the book recognizes the truth. It cannot be deceived.”

  Abigail wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “But I will be the owner…someday.”

  “Not for a long while,” Jaime said. “I wouldn’t wish that on you too soon.” She was glad that disaster had been averted but realized that her daughter’s burgeoning abilities could become an issue.

  Abigail flopped into a chair and took a deep breath.

  “It is time for you to be included in coven activities,” Jaime said. “Olivia and I have come here for a very important reason. I’d like you to stay and watch. Maybe you can be of assistance.”

  Jaime recited the proper incantation, and the Book of Shadows appeared. It hovered between them, its gold-embossed title glowing in the daylight. Olivia helped to set it on the reading podium, then Jaime flipped it open. The magical book must have an answer; she was depending on it.

  The book was thick, and Jaime looked through the handwritten pages, trying to narrow down her search. Abigail and Olivia were beside her but offered no suggestions.

  Then Olivia shuddered. “We had better find something quickly.”

  Abigail looked over. “What is it, Aunt Olivia?”

  “When one of my sisters is in a life-threatening situation,” Olivia said, “my empathic ability intensifies. Harper’s condition is worsening. I’m feeling emotions that I sense are from the past, and they are connected to that wedding dress.”

  “What do you feel?” Jaime said.

  “It’s scary,” Olivia said. “Something about that dress caused great fear. I also sense intense anger from another source. The emotions are coming through with strength. The power of the written curse we seek to destroy is highly charged, since the plate has been released from its hiding place in the dress.”

  Jaime put her hand on the book. “That’s all the more reason that we must discover how to control the situation and deactivate the curse.”

  “How is a curse activated?” Abigail said. “Can anyone cast one?”

  Jaime paused then said, “You may have something there. Curses cannot be brought into existence lightly. If that was the case, then each of us might be threatened daily.”

  “That’s right,” Olivia said. “A curse is sourced from hatred and can only be brought into existence by attaining skill with that type of spell.”

  “That’s it, then.” Jaime flipped through the book with a better idea of what she was looking for. “Here is something. For a curse to be undone, it must be traced back to its source.”

  “Which means that we have to find out who was the originator of the evil wish,” Olivia said.

  Jaime wasn’t sure how to discover the originator of a curse, since the book didn’t offer any technique for doing so. Each time it appeared that she’d made progress, it turned out that all she’d done was encounter the next obstacle. She wasn’t sure what to do next, as there was no clear path to follow.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, Jaime went to visit Harper. It was early and Ian met her there, as he was worried about her sister. Although he had been by a few times to express his concern, Harper’s condition had prevented him from seeing her.

  Jaime had kept him apprised of Harper’s progress, which had been poor. The days since the illness had struck had been long and grueling. There had been no sign of improvement, and the doctor was mystified. On his last visit, he talked about putting Harper in the hospital, although he wasn’t sure what else could be done for her—except to make her comfortable.

  Rheumatic fever was a serious complication and was normally treated with a series of antibiotics. It was vital to kill the bacteria and prevent it from reappearing. But in Harper’s case, the bacteria seemed resistant to the antibiotics—which placed her in a life-threatening condition.

  At the bed and breakfast, Jaime met Ian in the downstairs living room. He looked as sad and worried as she was. “Any improvement?”

  Jaime shook her head.

  “Can’t the doctor prescribe something stronger?”

  “He has tried,” Jaime said, “but he hasn’t found any medicine that is effective on Harper. Like I told you…the illness is the result of a curse.”

  “That’s definitely outside the parameters of the medical establishment.”

  Jaime knew that Ian understood the dilemma. He cared but had little to offer. Yet she could tell that he had developed belief in the supernatural. It would be hard not to in the face of what was happening.

  “What will you do?”

  “I told you about the tiny tube with the plate inside,” Jaime said. “To save Harper, I must find it.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  Jaime didn’t have the heart to tell Ian that he didn’t have the power to find an enchanted object. That would be up to her. But she would let him help, if nothing more than to offer moral support—which she certainly needed.

  “Earlier, Olivia texted that Harper was unconscious.”

  “I’m sure the illness is overpowering her,” Ian said. “I’ll wait down here. If she wakes up and can visit, let me know.”

  Jaime didn’t think that was likely—and even less so as she walked up the stairs. Partway up, the stairs were in shadow, making her wonder if someone had forgotten to turn on the light. Yet the stairway was lit, but not enough to dispel the shadows.

  Before she opened the door, Jaime noticed a black form and her heart fell. The reaper hovered in the hall, waiting. The long cloak dragged on the floor, and she could see the bony hands reaching toward the bedroom.

  The reaper glided into the room and Jaime followed. She was the only one who could see him. Olivia was focused on Harper, who lay so still that Jaime wondered if she was too late. Then she saw her sister breathe. The breaths were slow and shallow, but Harper was alive.

  The reaper loomed over the bed, grimacing. The ugly face was lined with age and the eyes lacked mercy. The creature intended to take Harper soon, but Jaime was having none of it. She focused on the dark form and conveyed a message that it wasn’t time yet.

  Jaime was firm, yet the reape
r didn’t comply. She repeated the message twice more. At last, the reaper moved back, still shrouding the room in darkness, reluctant to leave. The creature could do as he wished, but Jaime was adamant that he couldn’t have Harper.

  “How is she?” Jaime whispered.

  Olivia brushed a strand of hair from Harper’s brow. “She’s near the end. We don’t have much time.”

  “I can’t bear it.” Jaime leaned over to kiss Harper’s forehead. “It’s not over. I will conquer this evil.” She wasn’t sure if she was telling Olivia or reassuring herself. She also had a sense that Harper had heard what she said, despite her inability to respond.

  “I’ll stand guard,” Olivia said. “I can’t chance leaving her alone. I’m not sure what I can do if the end looms closer…but I’ll think of something.”

  Jaime brushed tears from her eyes. This was no time for sentimentality. She had a monumental task to do and very little time. She went downstairs to find Ian pacing the carpet. He looked up with anticipation.

  Jaime shook her head. “I don’t have good news. Let’s go. I must locate that written curse.” She brushed aside the horror of seeing her sister dying and steeled herself to do what she had to. “If you want to help, come to Lily’s shop with me.”

  On the way over, Jaime tried to calm her breathing and get in the proper frame of mind. Her magic couldn’t fail her. Yet she didn’t feel stronger, despite her effort to call forth her abilities.

  Lily’s shop had just opened, and customers filtered in. Ian followed Jaime to the office.

  “I wasn’t expecting you,” Lily said. “Should I be nervous? The repairs to the storage room were extensive.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jaime said. “That part is over. But I have to search for the missing item.”

  “I see that Ian is here to help you,” Lily said. “So, I’ll just tend to business.”

  Jaime took Ian to the aisle where the small tube containing the curse had been spotted. She described it and told him how small it was.

 

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