Spirit Whispers

by Cadie Snow

  “Sounds like we need a magnifying glass.”

  “No, you’ll see it,” Jaime said, “if you get close.” She didn’t want to discourage him, but she was sure that magic was required to reclaim the enchanted object. It didn’t hurt for Ian to look, as maybe he’d come up with something she hadn’t thought of.

  While Ian was occupied, Jaime went into a light psychic trance. Her best chance of locating the object was to sense it—the thing was magic, after all. And it was charmed with a self-protecting mechanism similar to the Book of Shadows.

  When she was behind a row of large shelves, Jaime closed her eyes and mentally permeated the room. She opened her perception to all senses that were present. She took some deeps breaths and tried again—only something wasn’t right.

  Instead of Jaime’s power growing stronger, it seemed to drain away. She couldn’t understand it. Could the magic object have that effect? That was something she hadn’t considered before.

  The harder she tried, the worse her perceptions became. It was frustrating. If she couldn’t use her power, what hope was there? Jaime reached deeper, letting urgency call forth her strength. Yet no matter what she did, the perceptions she sought escaped her.

  Jaime felt like a witch who needed a battery recharge. Maybe the trauma had worn her down. But that made no sense either. Her powers grew over time, as she used them more. There was no reason for the opposite to happen.

  Customers asked Lily questions, and clanging sounds echoed in the shop as antique items were moved for a better view. But there were no supernatural communications. Jaime’s efforts to sense the tiny object were fruitless.

  Ian appeared in the aisle. “Any luck?”

  Jaime threw up her hands. “How about you?”

  “Nothing,” Ian said. “We’d have to tear this shop apart, and have you seen how much stuff is in this place? It would take weeks.”

  “Thanks for trying, anyway.”

  Already late to work, Ian left for the sheriff’s office, and Jaime stopped for a double espresso. Something had to get her going. The situation had been dire before, but without her powers, it was impossible.

  After downing the espresso, Jaime had another then headed to Iris’s house. She needed to be within the welcoming walls of the home and feel the magic—maybe that would help. If not, at least she’d feel better. Her confidence had plummeted, but she had to fight through this.

  Iris’s house was quiet and seemed so empty without either of Jaime’s sisters with her. Jaime walked through the silent hallways, running her fingers over the Victorian furniture and the lacy curtains. There had to be an answer, only she didn’t know what.

  She went into Iris’s bedroom and flopped on top of the plush comforter. After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes with no new ideas, she slid off the bed and opened the closet. Iris had quite the wardrobe, since she’d enjoyed social events.

  Jaime shoved the hangers on the rack, looking at the lovely dresses. The dress—that might be helpful. It was cursed, after all. She would go down and take a look.

  In the basement, Jaime turned on the overhead light. The trunk was still where she’d left it. Dust had begun to accumulate on the lid, but otherwise there was no change.

  With trepidation, Jaime unlocked the trunk. There shouldn’t be too much danger, since she didn’t plan to wear the dress. Possibly, there was a clue she had overlooked or some sign that would lead her to the tiny item that had been sewn into the seams.

  Jaime opened the lid and looked at the wedding costume. She touched the silky fabric and ran her fingertips over the lace. It was just a dress; she shouldn’t be afraid of it. She lifted the jacket and examined the pearl buttons. It was hard to imagine who would have cursed such a beautiful garment.

  Then spirit whispers rustled through the air.

  Jaime dropped the jacket then stood up. “Who is there?”

  A woman’s form took shape above the trunk. It was Elizabeth, looking as radiant as her wedding day.

  “Elizabeth…hello.” Jaime took a breath. “You scared me.”

  “I’ve come from the spirit world,” Elizabeth whispered. “I cannot stay long. Your determined search for the written curse and dedication to destroying it has brought me back.”

  “What can you tell me about it?”

  “Albert was furious when he discovered I was in love with William. He pointed his finger at me and said, ‘I will curse you. If you ever go to your lover, may illness and misfortune befall you.’ But I never dreamed he would do that. Albert was extremely jealous, and his temper flared with little provocation.”

  “That was an idle threat, then?” Jaime said.

  “So it seemed, but Albert carried through,” Elizabeth said. “I wasn’t aware of it then, but when Albert died in that brawl, he did not move on to the spirit world.”

  “What happened?”

  “Albert made a deal with evil; he allied with dark power so he could kill me. The curse was written on a tiny plate and sewn into my wedding costume. Albert’s associate enchanted the object, activating the evil intent.”

  “When you wore your dress to walk down the aisle with William, you became ill.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said. “I died within days, and my beloved William was heartbroken ever after. But Albert did not get off without consequence. He is stuck between worlds—bound to the very dress he despised—for as long as that curse exists. Hatred and jealousy were his ruin.”

  The whispers faded and Elizabeth was gone—but she’d shared enough.

  Jaime had the answer she’d sought. In order to break the curse, she had needed to discover the originator. Albert had brought the curse into existence, having commissioned it to be written on the plate and hidden in the dress.

  But as a result of his bad deeds, Albert was bound to the wedding dress, a fact that revealed the power behind the deadly curse. A binding spell of that magnitude required a unique ability that could only come from black magic.

  To fuel his vengeance, Albert had unwittingly partnered with a sorcerer, as the high-powered binding spell was a sorcerer’s trick. That type of magic was performed using the dark arts, the trademark of Nefarious.

  Jaime closed the lid of the trunk and sat on top of it. There was no sign of a ghost, meaning that Albert was hiding, a ghostly ability to avoid discovery. But he would have to answer for his crimes. Jaime would not allow him to escape.

  Yet the enemy wasn’t a black-hearted ghost. Jaime wasn’t just facing the dead, a man who had conceived of a spell bringing illness and misfortune. The disheartening part was that Nefarious was linked to the curse, which made the challenge much greater.

  Chapter 11

  Jaime decided to get out of the basement before Albert appeared in his ghostly form to wreak havoc—just as he had in Lily’s storage room. That had been scary enough, and Jaime didn’t know what he was capable of. She had no intention of finding out, especially when she was alone.

  And she needed to get back, since the kids would be home from school. It would be wise to take them to their cousins’ house, so Sophia could look after them. That would be safer until the looming danger was resolved.

  After locking the trunk, Jaime left. She was worried about the new development. Her powers were weak, so she didn’t know how she’d be able to fight against Nefarious. Realizing that sorcery was behind the deadly curse changed things. She was going to need Olivia’s assistance.

  All the way home, Jaime struggled for ideas on how to gain enough strength to succeed in breaking the curse. If she couldn’t find that plate, it would all be over. That wasn’t looking too hopeful.

  Jaime arrived home and went inside. She heard Abigail’s voice from the other room.

  “You stole it from me,” Abigail said. “You tricked me. And you dare to cloak it to keep me from taking it back?”

  At the edge of the hallway, Jaime could see into the living room. Eve stood there, holding Abigail’s dream log. The bright pink cover was a giveaway.


  Before Jaime could intercede, she watched the twins go into action.

  Andrew flashed a spark of electricity at Eve, cutting through the magical cloak protecting the dream log. Instantly, Landon focused on the logbook and shoved it into the air then away from Eve. The book flew into his hands, and he hugged it to his chest.

  “No one harms our sister,” Andrew said, pointing a finger at Eve.

  Then the twins ran over to Jaime and stood behind her. Luckily, the boys had realized Eve’s trick and come to the rescue. Abigail’s dream log in the wrong hands could be used against her in various ways, making her vulnerable.

  Abigail’s expression gave away her heartbreak. Her best friend had betrayed her. Jaime could see that the incident had broken her spirit. Yet she wondered why the twins had needed to protect Abigail, when Jaime could see the black crystal talisman hanging around her daughter’s neck.

  That talisman had one weakness: it couldn’t protect against sorcery.

  As if on cue, Elijah appeared in the room. His dark hair was shaggy, and his eyes were black as coal. The tattoos down his right arm were menacing. He leered at Jaime.

  “You!” Jaime said. “I should have known that you were behind this.”

  Elijah clenched his fists and stepped closer.

  “Stay back,” Jaime said. “You dare to enter my home, to threaten my daughter?”

  “Always so high and mighty,” Elijah said. “I’ll do with your daughter as I wish. You just wait and see. There will nothing you can do to stop me.”

  “I will do anything to protect my family,” Jaime said. “Surely you’ve figured that out by now.”

  Elijah grimaced. “Oh, I’m so afraid.”

  “Don’t mock me,” Jaime said. “The bond of family is stronger than you realize.”

  Eve was standing to the side, listening. Jaime noticed that her appearance was softer, and she looked more like the schoolgirl she was. Her black eyes were dark brown, and auburn highlights glimmered in her hair, hanging in waves to her shoulders.

  Eve stared, taking in the scene, and she appeared to understand—maybe more than Jaime did.

  “You’re trying to intimidate us,” Abigail said. “And I don’t like it.”

  “That’s a big word for such a young girl,” Elijah said, smirking.

  “I’m thirteen,” Abigail said. “As if you care.”

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” Eve said, glaring at Elijah. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Rage flared in Elijah’s eyes. “You are out of line, my dear Eve. Don’t forget that you must prove yourself.”

  Eve squared her shoulders. “What if I don’t want to anymore?”

  “You’d do well to remember your heritage,” Elijah said. “Your parents graciously left you in our care upon their passing. Both were respected within Nefarious.”

  “Tricking a friend isn’t like I thought,” Eve said.

  “That was a way for you to prove yourself,” Elijah said. “You’ll never make the grade if you keep this up.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “If you want to be accepted as a sorceress,” Elijah said, “you must do as we instruct.”

  Abigail stepped between Elijah and her friend. “She doesn’t have to do what you say.”

  Eve turned to Jaime and said, “Nefarious plans to usurp your family’s powers; they want to steal your witchcraft and use it for themselves. I was supposed to lure Abigail to their side; my task was to sway her loyalties, so they could use her to control you.”

  “For Nefarious to steal my powers,” Abigail said, “I would have to offer them willingly. They cannot force me.”

  “And Nefarious doesn’t have the nerve to come for me directly,” Jaime said.

  “You saw fit to create a protective shield,” Elijah said. “You forced us to get to you through your daughter.”

  “Your scheme was a failure,” Jaime said. “Your protégée wants no more to do with you.”

  Elijah glared, then said, “You’d best come with me, Eve. If you don’t, you’ll be kicked out of the group and severed from your power source.”

  “Don’t do it,” Abigail said. “Please, Eve…you aren’t like them. You can join us and become a witch.”

  Elijah reached for Eve, but she stepped back and said, “I’m staying here.”

  Jaime grabbed for Eve, but she was too late.

  “No!” Elijah shouted, and snatched Eve, whirling so fast he was a blur. Then he disappeared with her.

  The twins stood in the middle of the floor, where Elijah had been a fraction of a second before.

  Abigail looked horrified. “He can’t do that…just take her like that.”

  “Eve has been hanging out with some powerful sorcerers,” Jaime said.

  “But it’s not her fault,” Abigail said. “Eve wasn’t all bad; she did good stuff too.”

  “Elijah was mentoring her into evil,” Jaime said. “She was probably working up to it, trying to do as he said. But she still has a good side.”

  Jaime sagged onto the sofa. “I can’t believe that I trusted her. And that Elijah manipulated things to get me to go to the dark side.”

  “You’re safe now.”

  The twins were wide-eyed over the incident. “Why don’t you two go into the kitchen and get a snack?” Jaime said. “I’ll be in there in a few minutes.” The boys left, already arguing over who got the last cookie.

  “Mama…I’m sorry,” Abigail said. “I didn’t know. But you have to believe that I wouldn’t abandon you. I’m part of this family and care about the coven as much as you do.”

  Jaime’s heart went out to her daughter. Experience was hard won; there was no way to keep the tough parts of life away from Abigail. Jaime was proud that Abigail had come through it well.

  “You know what?” Abigail said. “In my mind, I saw Eve steal my dream log…just before it happened.”

  “You’re learning, honey. Your psychic abilities are growing stronger.” Jaime was relieved that Abigail wasn’t as naïve as she’d feared. And that her loyalties hadn’t been perverted after all.

  Abigail’s allegiance had wavered; she’d swayed to the dark side but only briefly. It had been enough to weaken Jaime’s powers; she hadn’t understood that before. Now that Abigail was back, it would be okay.

  Jaime sensed her ability returning. She felt strong again. Her power surged. Abigail had been recovered to the family circle, and just in time. There was still a slim chance to save Harper…if only the deadly curse could be broken.

  Chapter 12

  With her power restored, Jaime went to the antique shop. On the way, she called Lily to be sure the tools she needed were there. The kids were in good hands, since Sophia had come by to pick them up for a sleepover with their cousins.

  Before leaving the house, Jaime had slipped her amulet in her pocket. The extra protection couldn’t hurt. Harper had made it for her. The sterling silver amulet was no bigger than a quarter, and had the Viking compass tattoo on the surface, a magical symbol of navigation.

  “You will never lose your way, even when the way is not known,” Harper had said.

  At the shop, Lily was waiting. “I purchased the items you asked for. The tailor seemed familiar with these.”

  Jaime accepted the tiny tools, figuring that she’d need them to open the enchanted tube—if she succeeded in finding it.

  Lily followed Jaime into the aisle, where she’d last seen the tube, but made sure to stay out of the way. Jaime calmed her mind and mentally pervaded the space. For a couple of minutes, the room was quiet. Then energy radiated from a magic power source.

  Jaime spotted the tiny tube beside a few antique picture frames. It was still, lying on the shelf as though it had been there all along. Cautiously, Jaime scooped it up, not wishing to burn her skin again. Yet the item was cold, and the self-protective mechanism didn’t activate.

  Before her luck ran out, Jaime carried the tube back to a table and used the tools to open it.


  Lily leaned close to watch. “That’s what you’ve been looking for?”

  After prying open the small lid, Jaime shook the tube until a miniscule rolled-up sheet of lead fell into her palm. Her heart pounded at the thought that she would finally have her hands on the wretched curse.

  Lily placed a linen cloth on the table, and Jaime rolled out the tiny plate until it was flat. Etched into the lead was the curse. Jaime said, “This is it. I can’t believe it.”

  She read the curse to Lily, the vile intent making her shudder. Albert had wanted Elizabeth to die if she wore the dress to marry William.

  Jaime hesitated.

  “What is it?” Lily said.

  “No wonder the wedding costume has caused so much trouble,” Jaime said. “When I met Maggie, she mentioned that much grief and loss had been attached to it—eventually prompting William to lock it away.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Lily said. “When I bought it, I understood that a series of sad events had caused William to bury the dress as a way to quarantine the evil. I suppose that’s one reason his neighbors thought that he was into witchcraft.”

  “But don’t you see?” Jaime said. “Albert failed to be specific, which is a grave error in casting a spell—particularly a curse that brings death. The etching does not refer to Elizabeth; it says the woman who wears this dress…”

  Lily put her hand over her heart. “Oh, no…that could be any woman.”

  “Exactly,” Jaime said. “The curse activated against any woman who wore the dress. That’s why Harper is deathly ill.”

  Without a moment to spare, Jaime wrapped the written curse in the linen cloth and headed to Olivia’s house. The tiny item in her hand ignited a spark of hope. It meant there was a chance to save Harper.

  When Jaime arrived, she found Olivia in Harper’s bedroom. A glance at her sister said that she might already be too late. Yet she refused to believe that. Destroying the written curse would break the spell, and rescue Harper—if she acted with haste.