by Catie Rhodes
Mysti pressed her lips together and gave me an apologetic look. She didn’t like making me hurt emotionally but probably considered it a form of tough love. “You’ll have to safeguard against losing control of him…”
An idea flashed in my mind, something I’d wanted to try but hadn’t needed to yet. “I’ve got an idea on how to do this, using my stang.”
Mysti drew back, and a mischievous grin split her lips. “You have been studying. Good job.” She point one finger at me. “But listen. Oscar’s not going to cooperate. He will likely tell you to eat it. You’re going to have to get clues from whatever he says. So listen carefully.”
“Maybe I can offer him something in exchange for calling Miss Ugly off.” As I said the words, I realized how stupid and childish they sounded. Oscar would never bargain with me. It was all his way or the highway. He had his vision of perfect. Anything that didn’t fit wasn’t acceptable.
I cringed at the thought, realizing it described me too. If I ever got out of this, I might have to rethink my all or none position.
An alarm went off on Mysti’s side of the conversation. “I hate to end this so abruptly, but I need to get moving. We should wrap up this job tomorrow. Or be dead. I’ll fly straight into the airport at San Antonio.”
I forced a smile, no easy feat considering my dread for contacting Oscar. But Mysti deserved it. She would do anything to help the ones she loved. And all I did was take and take. “Maybe I should fly out there, if I get this straightened out, and help you and Griff.”
Mysti raised her eyebrows. “Only if you want to see the real version of the thing people consider a werewolf.” She clicked off with that.
7
I wouldn’t summon Oscar in my camper. Not where I lived. I’d never allow something as evil as Oscar Rivera access to my home. He’d taint it. I saw only one other option.
“I’ll do the summoning in my tent at the carnival,” I told Hannah.
“You can’t do it alone.” Hannah had her long arms crossed over her chest.
“You can’t help.” I mimicked her posture.
She answered by jerking my witch pack out of the closet next to my bed and holding it tight in one fist. “You can’t stop me.”
Tired of the argument before it had even gained traction, I gave up. “We need more than just the pack.”
My witch pack had expanded to an oblong cedar chest with a triquetra for protection burned into the lid. Hannah and I hauled it out from the storage space underneath my mattress by its rope handles and put it in my truck along with my witch pack.
The carnival wouldn’t open until mid-afternoon. I drove through the empty dirt lot and parked the truck in front of the grouping of RVs and tents where many of the workers stayed.
A few of them came out to see who was here. Leon Blackfox, owner of Summervale Carnival, joined them. Soon as he saw Hannah, his face lit up.
“How are you today?” Leon had his long black hair pulled into a ponytail, and his bronze skin glowed in the midday sun. He had packed his lean body into tight jeans and wore expensive cowboy boots.
He was worth a second look. And a third. Maybe even a fourth. But he was interested in Hannah, not me. And she wasn’t ready.
Hannah gave Leon a vague smile and hurried away from him. Leon’s shoulders rounded, and he frowned.
“Need help?” He spoke to me this time, probably hoping I’d include him.
“No, thanks” was my answer. Though Hannah teased me about Tanner Letts, I wouldn't mess with her about Leon. She was hurting emotionally. It would be cruel.
Leon made a sour face and went back to his RV. The other workers watched us pass by, curiosity etched onto their faces, but asked no questions. They probably thought I was setting up for some blowout of an attraction. If only they knew.
With my witch pack slung over one shoulder, Hannah and I hauled the cedar chest between us. My guts boiled at what we were about to do, and the smell of my own fear drifted up to me, chemical and sour. But I just didn't know what other option I had at this point. We got into my tent, and I flipped on the lights.
Because I did other magic work and summoning in the tent, it had to be cleansed. I pulled my censer out of the cedar box and filled it with a couple of inches of limestone sand, found in an area not far from here where I’d felt an old, sacred presence. On top of the sand, I placed one charcoal disk and used a long match to light the edge. Sparks flew from it.
Hannah skittered backward, hand to her chest. “Is that him?”
“No. This is just for the ceremonial cleansing.” While the charcoal got hot enough for incense, I set out the other things I’d need.
Oscar’s runes went on the table. Using rubber kitchen tongs, because I carried the silly belief the evil wouldn’t conduct through rubber, I arranged them in their own circle. Evil rose from them like stink off an open sewer pipe. This wasn’t the first time I’d attempted to work with them, but their ugliness never failed to surprise me. I set a bowl filled with holy water next to the runes. I’d be using the runes as a doorway, and I needed a way to close that once I finished. Soaking in the holy water would break any connection Oscar managed to forge between his prison and the topside world.
I set my stang on the chair, away from the runes but still convenient to me, careful not to get the deer antlers, which served as prongs tangled in anything. The rest of the summoning would be done on my own steam. As I worked, I couldn’t help stealing glances at Orev’s perch. He often summoned with me, and I missed him.
The raven familiar hadn’t shown his beak since he was plucked from the sky while I fought with Miss Ugly. He wasn’t dead. I’d feel that. But what if whoever took him decided not to give him back? Sorrow ached in my chest. Even though he wasn’t a person, Orev had become my friend. I wanted him back. A tear welled in my eye, blurring the perch.
I pulled my focus back together, taking deep breaths. Orev would have to wait until later. He was alive and in no distress for right now. I’d have to leave his whereabouts there. This task of summoning Oscar had to be my entire focus. It was too dangerous not to. If his spirit got into me, I was in deep trouble. Hannah’s voice cut into my thoughts.
“Do we need to cover the floor?” Hannah had watched me do a few spells since she’d been traveling with us. I occasionally used an old Persian style rug as a decorative floor cover when summoning. Spirits liked ceremony.
“I need the dirt this time.” I lifted the stang to show Hannah. Its power lapped gently against that of the mantle. She eyed it warily, gaze lingering on the deer antlers. I set the stang back down.
The charcoal finally glowed fiery red. I placed white sage on top of it. Smoke flooded from the incense. I let it die down. Then I placed more incense in the censer and capped it.
I shook my hands the way Brad Whitebyrd taught me to do, releasing my insecurities and my misgivings. Today was harder than usual. I’d foolishly coasted on the belief that I’d neutralized any danger from Oscar until I was ready and able to deal with him. This was turning out not to be true. I wasn’t as strong or as in control of my abilities as I’d thought. There was still such a long road for me to travel, one lined with the bones of those who failed on the same path. One wrong move, and I’d become roadkill right along with them. I shook my head to clear the negative thoughts. The black opal heated against my skin. It was ready, and so was I.
“This is it,” I told Hannah. “Run now or stay for the show.” I lifted the censer. White sage smoke undulated from it.
Hannah glared to let me know she was offended by the implication that she might leave out of fear. I nodded my understanding and moved the censer up and down. The smoke drifted, caressing and curling over my bare arms.
I began my chant, concentrating on letting go of my own negativity and pushing any other negativities out of this space.
“Impurities of this place drift away on the air
Negativity float away like water.”
I moved about the space as I
spoke, swinging the censer, which let out a steady stream of smoke. I let smoke drift into every nook and cranny, and even released it at the ceiling.
“Smoke, chase it all way and cleanse me
Cleanse this place
Let impurities become one with the earth, gone forever.”
A low hum built in the tent. The smoke took on weight, pressing against my skin, swirling low to the ground to tickle my ankles.
Light flashed, bright and blinding. A chilling heat burned through the room and me, filling me with the whitest of light. A strong wind from nowhere rushed through and pushed out the incense smoke.
My heart picked up speed. The cleansing had worked, but this was the strongest physical result I’d ever seen. The results I usually saw dealt more in a change of energy.
I glanced at Hannah to make sure she was still okay and saw a possible answer to the increased activity. She had her eyes closed and her hands clasped beneath her chin as though in prayer. Had she done that thing with the light? Hannah’s connection between life and death was new to both of us. Her knowledge of death, of spirits leaving the living realm, could have accelerated the process. But I had no real way to know.
“Now it’s time for the circle. Once it’s up, stay inside, no matter how scary things get.” I picked up my stang. Its power moved through me and kissed the mantle. The two energies curled together, golden as the rays of afternoon sun. I gathered my power.
Mysti had expressed surprise at my desire for one of these, but the stang had called to me at a Witch’s Feast of Lights she’d dragged me to. The guy selling it didn’t have a stitch of magic in him. The stang, however, had enough to go around.
A little taller than me and topped with removable deer antlers to create many forks, the slick, oiled piece of wood was covered with protection and earth symbols. The stang would act as a representation of the world tree.
The top part, the antlers, offered protection above, in the heavens. The middle of the stang, where my hand rested, represented my part of the world, the living realm. The bottom of the stang, which I’d drive into the earth, extended the circle of protection into the lower realm where the roots of all things on the topside dwelled.
My studies had suggested this type of circle would be tighter and stronger than what I normally did. This was the same research Mysti had praised me for doing. Though her praise felt good, I chose this method because, like the stang, it spoke to something deep in me, in the place where my magic lived. And I hoped it would be strong enough to keep Oscar out of me.
I pointed the stang at the dirt floor and turned my body sunwise as I spoke.
“Lord of the fire
Lady of the earth
Daughter of the water
Son of wind
Hear my call
Witness my works
Keep me safe
Let not evil roam past this circle
Let this circle seal now.”
I drove the stang into the hard dirt at my feet. It should have been a struggle. That dirt was hard enough to bow the stang, even break it with enough force. But the energy from the earth nearly pulled the stang from my hand and sucked it into the ground.
The circle went up around us. In it were shadows shaped like tree leaves and branches. They curled around us, protecting and sheltering us. I let my energy flow in silent thanks. It answered with a rustle of leaves and the smell of resin.
Now for the worst part. I had to call Oscar. I stood over the table where I placed the runes. They’d moved themselves from the circle in which I’d placed them into the shape of the symbol carved on each rune. The symbol on the runes themselves, usually black, glowed with a jumping fire.
I put all the power I could behind my voice. “Oscar E. Rivera, I summon you to into this realm. We have business to discuss.”
At first, nothing happened. I got ready to speak again. About that time, an ugly, menacing energy rose from the runes and rolled around the circle, testing its boundaries. The runes chittered on the table and emitted the smell of rotting meat. Red mist, like blood vapor, rose from the runes. Within it, a human shape formed.
Oscar’s thick features emerged slick and shiny in the mist. He had his hands clasped underneath his chin the way Hannah had a few minutes earlier. Slowly, he raised his head to stare at me. Then, without warning, he launched himself at me.
The circle I’d made to contain his spirit stretched toward mine. My throat closed. My mind raced back over everything I’d done, looking for the mistake. I shook off the thoughts, concentrated on the angry spirit coming toward me, and waited for him to break his circle.
But before Oscar’s circle could break, it slammed into my special circle. The impact shook the room. Cold fear spread over me. Hold. Please hold. A sound like wood rubbing together, a nerve-grinding flat squeak, rattled my eardrums. Oscar’s circle flew back into place, Oscar along with it. My circle pushed it there and then spread over it to hold it down.
Oscar launched himself at the invisible wall a few more times. Each time, red mist flew from him, and he became a little less substantial. Finally he gave up and glared at me, emanating hate and violence. The red mist collected around him again and made him look solid.
I licked my lips and took a trembling breath. “I know you sent that creature to assassinate me. Let’s negotiate a truce to our conflict.” I tried my best to sound strong and brave like Priscilla Herrera, even though I felt naked and weak without her and Orev.
“Speak it.” Oscar Rivera, known in folklore as the Coachman, must have taken voice training in his human life. Or maybe he’d had a natural talent. Either way, his rich melodious voice was pure seduction. It could have convinced the most saintly of humans to commit mayhem and make bad decisions in his name.
“I’ll help you cross into the spirit world, taking your entire soul with you. Your isolation will end. You can reunite with people you knew in life. Haunt as a ghost. If you seek it, you can find peace.” I used my Priscilla Herrera voice to speak the words I’d been mentally practicing since I’d decided to contact Oscar.
The offer was a good one. Oscar Rivera’s actions, both in life and in death, were those of a tormented soul. Crossing over would allow him to leave behind the chaos and hate on which he’d thrived for more than a century. Remembering Mysti’s warning of Oscar telling me to eat it, I tried not to get my hopes up too high.
The seconds ticked past. Oscar’s shimmering form gave no indication of hearing. Fear scratched at my already fragile confidence. My mind raced back over my actions, searching for the step I’d forgotten. But I’d done everything I knew to do.
“Did you hear me? I’ve made you an offer.” I let the words come out of my diaphragm the way Priscilla Herrera did.
Oscar Rivera lowered his head. His form twitched a couple of times. Then it began to shake, his shoulders hitching. Oscar threw back his head, flung his arms wide, and screamed laughter at the ceiling of my tent. It left a fine spray of red mist on the material. I puzzled at it. This wasn’t right. Oscar shouldn’t have been able to manifest physically at all. Uh oh.
My chest tightened, and my throat closed. I had jacked this up royally, but damned if I had any idea how. Hannah edged closer to me until our bodies pressed together.
“I don’t want to cross over, you moron. I’d lose everything important.” Oscar’s voice shook the contents of my tent, vibrated in the dirt at my feet, and buffered against my skin.
“Then what will you take in exchange for calling off your assassin?” I didn’t know what Oscar called Miss Ugly. Assassin was as good a name as any other.
Oscar smiled, his slick, bloody teeth glimmering in the low light. A chill rolled through my body. I grabbed Hannah’s hand. Her trembling fingers curled around mine.
“You want to bargain?” He cocked his head at me.
“Within reason, yes.” Unable to muster the Priscilla Herrera voice this time, I sounded like a rabbit caught in a snare.
Oscar laughed again. This
time, he got over it faster. “Even if I could call off my assassin, which I cannot, there’s only one thing I want from you.” He paused, maybe waiting for me to ask what. I said nothing. I knew if I spoke, my voice would tremble. He sneered at me. “I want your death for what you and your ancestor did to me. Then I’ll rise again and make things go the way they should have in the first place. My followers would have ruled this nation and the world had it not been for Samantha Herrera and for you.”
Oscar was wrong. His foolishness and arrogance would have always done him in, but we never see our own failings or how impossible our tightest held dreams are. Oscar, mad in both life and death, thought his goal achievable, and it drove him just like any other, saner man’s desire.
“Look at you.” His laughter came back, doubling him over and shaking him where he stood. “You don’t even know that your fate is now entwined with my assassin’s and nothing can ever change it. She owns you now.” He stared at me, his blood-slick features impossible to read. “You’re too stupid and stuck in your ways to figure out how to get away from her.”
Wait a minute. Had Oscar implied there was a way to escape Miss Ugly? He wouldn’t help me, so there was no reason to ask what he meant. Mysti’d hoped he’d give me hints about what was going on. Was this one?
“Let me ask you something, Peri Jean Mace.” Oscar’s voice lulled me, caressed my senses. “Have you had any visitors lately? Faces from the past?”
Only Wade. The hurt bubbled up, almost overpowering the fear.
Oscar studied my face. “Not Wade Hill, fool.”
I jolted. Had Oscar read my mind? My skin tingled as fear made my heart pump even harder.
Oscar cocked his head, lip curling as though he was staring at a particularly interesting piece of shit. “You didn’t recognize him, did you? Don’t worry. He’ll be back.” Oscar wiggled his fingers at me. His form turned back to red mist and slithered back into the tiles.
I hurried to the table and swept the tiles into the holy water. The evil still emanated from them, but I no longer felt Oscar’s vile presence. My heart slowed. In control again, I spoke aloud to Hannah the thing that had bothered me most.