“She doesn’t want to survive. She wants to go. I’m dying, you see. I’m her only friend. I’ve got maybe six months before this cancer kicks my ass and then she’ll be truly alone.”
I knit my eyebrows. “I thought you said you didn’t go to doctors.”
“Yes, well, I lie sometimes.” Caroline shrugged. “Sue me. What’s important is that I’m not lying about this. Gillian doesn’t want to kill. She’s never wanted to kill. The evil resides in those other women.”
I had no doubt about that.
“What about the women they’re recruiting?” I asked, something occurring to me. “How are they trading the minds of their husbands for everlasting life?”
“That’s a trick and nothing more,” Caroline answered. “It’s black magic. Old. Harriet knew it when she lived in Falk. Even though she managed to live until she was a hundred and ten, she couldn’t stave off death. Not really.
“They’re using the souls of the men to stretch out the lives of the women,” she continued. “What’s left of the souls they’re using to sustain Gillian, although it’s not what she wants. She tries to fight them, but as long as they have the mirror, Gillian doesn’t have the strength to fight.”
“We’ll help Gillian.” I meant it. “I need to know, are all of those women coming to the circus to fight us tonight?”
“That’s my understanding.” Caroline nodded. “They know you have magic. They want to steal that magic.”
“Do they know Gillian is responsible for the ghosts?”
“They think they forced Gillian to conjure those ghosts to keep you locked in. They don’t realize that Gillian was fine with it because she thought it would protect you.”
“Will they bring the mirror with them when they attack tonight?”
“Yes. They’ll want to use Gillian against you if they can.”
“That’s good.” My mind was working overtime. “That’s really good. I know exactly how this is going to go.”
“You do?” Kade looked more confused now than when we’d started. “How do you plan to fight all those women?”
“With a little help from our friends.” I beamed at Caroline, who reluctantly returned the smile. “We need to get back to the circus and plan. You need to come with us, Caroline. We’ll need your insight.”
“I have no problem coming with you,” Caroline said. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be. If you can free Gillian, even if I die, it will be worth it.”
“Hopefully no one will have to die.” I tapped my bottom lip with my finger. “Just one more question.”
Caroline feigned patience.
“Was Gillian really a witch before all this happened? I mean, I don’t think she was an evil witch, but did she have magic?”
“She did. How did you know?”
“The ghosts,” Raven answered. “A normal wendigo can only be one thing. Gillian is multiple things.”
“And we’re going to use that to our advantage,” I said. “Come on. We have a lot to do.”
28
Twenty-Eight
The stretch after lunch as we counted the hours before moving the patrons out was interminable. I was edgy as I breezed through readings, doing the bare minimum to satisfy customers. No one complained, and I took that as a good sign, but everything changed when a familiar woman walked through the opening.
Vivian Brooks. Troy’s mother. I remembered the woman from when I walked her family to their vehicle to protect them from the ghosts. She stood in the tent opening, her eyes searching until they found me. For one brief moment my heart seized with fear. I was convinced she was going to shutter her mind and attack – that was about how my luck was going these days – but instead she broke into a broad smile and hurried to the table.
“There you are.” She rummaged in her purse as she got comfortable. “The sun is bright outside and it took my eyes a moment to adjust when I came inside. I wasn’t sure you were in here.”
“Sometimes it feels as if I’m always here.” I forced a smile for her benefit, relief washing over me when I touched her mind and found she wasn’t shuttered at all. She was an open book … and a worried one at that. “How can I help you?”
“Um … here.” She handed me twenty-five dollars – the fee I charge for a reading – and wrinkled her nose when I tried to wave it off. “No, I know that you guys have certain margins you’re supposed to hit for venues like this. I want to pay.”
I set the money on the middle of the table. I wasn’t comfortable accepting it, mostly because I was utterly charmed by Troy. There was something different about the boy that I liked and I wanted to help him if I could. It was his face, after all, I saw reflected in his mother’s head when I scanned her.
“Let’s start from the beginning and we’ll argue about the money later,” I suggested, opting to refrain from theatrics as I regarded Vivian. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Well … .” Vivian fidgeted in the chair, her purse clutched on her lap, and glanced around the tent as if she thought the appropriate words would somehow pop into her head.
“I can’t help unless I know exactly what’s going on,” I pointed out quietly. “There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before. Trust me. I want to help. I need information to help.”
“Fine.” Vivian looked at her lap before looking back up at me. “I think Troy is … special.”
There were so many ways I could go with that statement I didn’t know where to start. “Special like he’s gifted, or special like you can’t leave him alone in a freshly-painted room because he might start licking the walls and poison himself?”
Despite the serious nature of the conversation, Vivian laughed. “The first one. The thing is – and I feel strange admitting this to a stranger – but Troy seems to trust you, and I hope I can as well. I think he can do things.”
I was intrigued. “What kind of things?”
“I think he can see things others can’t see.”
I knew that was hard for Vivian to admit. No mother wanted to take ownership for a strange and peculiar child. I had to give her credit. “I think he can, too,” I admitted after a beat. “I think Troy is definitely special.”
Vivian looked so relieved I felt a bit of the weight lift from my shoulders. “I knew you did. That’s why you were talking to him so long. Marcus, my older son, said you spent a long time talking to Troy. The only thing I could figure is that you picked up on something.”
“It’s not that easy,” I cautioned. “I don’t know what gift Troy boasts. If I had time to spend with him I might be able to identify it. If I had to guess – and don’t take this as a diagnosis and run with it – I’d say he’s a sensitive.”
“Like … psychic?”
“Kind of,” I hedged. “I didn’t see Troy exhibit the ability to read minds, if that’s what you’re worried about. He can’t go poking around people’s heads.”
Vivian remained calm. “What can he do?”
“He can poke around their hearts.” I was almost certain that was true. “I think he’s empathic, which means he can pick up on the mood of others. He might not always understand that. It’s not an easy gift.”
“Are you empathic?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m psychic. I can pick thoughts out of people’s heads, occasionally feel their emotions. Troy will be better at the emotional part than I am. That might not be a good thing in the grand scheme of things.”
Vivian seemed resigned that I was telling the truth even though she barely knew me. “Will this gift hurt him?”
I shrugged. “It’s like anything else,” I replied. “There are good and bad things associated with it.”
“Do you like being psychic?”
“It’s who I am. I’ve never known anything different. If you’re worried about Troy, I think he’s the same way. This is his reality. He doesn’t know any different.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Vivian admitted, chewing on her bottom lip as she
squirmed. Talking to a stranger about the mental health of her son was obviously trying for the dedicated mother. “He’s such a sweet boy. He’s always been smart – pretty much smarter than everybody in his class – but he’s also picked on quite a bit and bullied.”
“That happens to all kids,” I pointed out. “He’ll be okay. You can’t protect him from everything. My parents tried that when I was a kid. They knew I was different and wanted me to be quiet about what I could do. They were terrified someone would find out.”
“And that didn’t work?”
“They died when I was a teenager,” I explained. “I was on my own after that. It didn’t work because I wasn’t protected when I was tossed into the system.”
“Oh, that’s awful.” Vivian furrowed her brow. “Still, you managed to claw your way out. You ended up here.”
“Because the owner of Mystic Caravan ran into me on the street one day and recognized that I was different,” I explained. “He offered me a chance no one else was going to give me. I was lucky.
“Troy will also be lucky,” I continued. “He has you. Hopefully he has other family, too. I was isolated, but most kids won’t have to deal with the same set of circumstances.
“I can see Troy is loved,” I said. “He’s wise beyond his years and he’s got a good heart. I don’t think you have to worry about anything.”
“But … shouldn’t I find someone who can help him with his gift?” Vivian asked, her eyes widening. “Isn’t that what a good mother would do?”
“A good mother loves her child, and you do,” I replied. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love him. As for someone to help, I don’t know. I don’t want to make you nervous, but if Troy tells the wrong person what he can do he could be labeled a nut.”
“Did that happen to you?”
“A few times,” I acknowledged. “Things won’t always be easy for Troy, but I think he should be okay. As for empaths in the area, I don’t know where to point you. I can do a little research and see if I come up with a name. Whatever you do, though, don’t volunteer that information. Make sure you research them first.”
“Thanks. I will.” Vivian moved to stand and then thought better of it. “One more thing. Um, Troy says that he sees ghosts hanging around, but it’s okay because they’re not here for him. Is that part of being an empath?”
“Not really.”
“So … he’s making it up?” Vivian almost looked hopeful.
“No.” I shook my head. “He’s not seeing ghosts. Don’t get me wrong, they look like ghosts. They’re planted visions. I don’t know how to explain it. He’s not imagining it. That’s the important thing.”
“Do you see what he sees?”
“In this particular instance, yes. I see what he sees.”
“So, it’s real.” Vivian pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “This all feels like so much. My husband isn’t taking it well. He thinks I’m being dramatic, but I’ve always known Troy was different. He seemed to understand things even as a baby.
“I had a bit of post-partum after giving birth to him – that’s why I don’t have even more kids running around the house. I hated the feeling after – and he never cried when I was really upset or anything,” she continued. “He was the calmest, sweetest baby you’ve ever seen.”
“I think every parent wants one of those.” I grinned. “As for what he’s seeing now, that has nothing to do with him. It’s important you’re out of here before dark, though. After tonight, those things he sees should be gone.”
“I don’t understand.”
“And I can’t explain it. What’s important is that those things aren’t ghosts. They were created as a distraction.”
“Like … magic?”
“I guess that’s as good a word as any,” I answered. “You don’t need to focus on that. The things he’s seeing will be gone soon. We’ll be gone soon, too. Troy will still be here. He’ll still have the same ability. That’s not a bad thing. He’s merely different, and there’s nothing wrong with being different.”
“That’s a lovely way to put it.” Vivian stood on shaky legs. “He’s outside. He wants to see you. I wasn’t sure if that was okay.”
“I’ll go out to him.” I grabbed the money and handed it back to Vivian, only pressing harder when she tried to beg off. “Put it in his college fund.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
Vivian accepted the money, watching as I exited the tent and closed the flap. There was no line this late in the day. Thankfully I’d worked through most of the customers in the hours after lunch. Those who remained would simply have to be disappointed. We needed to move every guest on the property out within the next hour. It wouldn’t be easy.
“Here he is.” Vivian beamed as she placed a hand on Troy’s shoulder and eased him out from the shaded area where he tirelessly worked on eating a huge ice cream cone. “Where did your brother go?”
“He’s over there.” Troy offered a haphazard gesture. “He found a girl he likes, but she doesn’t like him.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
Troy shrugged. “She’s interested in someone else.”
“Another boy?” Vivian asked.
Troy shook his head. “A girl.”
“Oh.” Vivian pressed her lips together and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Well, your brother will survive. This might be a good lesson for him to learn.”
Troy fixed his inquisitive eyes on me. “You were inside with my mom for a long time.”
“We had a few things to discuss.” I ruffled his hair, more as a way to touch his head so I could get a quick look inside without disturbing him. He wasn’t particularly bothered by anything now other than his mother’s anxiety. He was especially keyed in to her emotions. “I hear you’re still seeing the ghosts.”
Troy widened his eyes. “Do you see them?”
“Not right at this second, but I know they’re coming back.” I hunkered down so we were on an even level. “Troy, I need you to listen to me. Those aren’t ghosts. I know they look like ghosts, but that’s not what they are.”
“What are they?”
I wasn’t sure how to explain the situation to an impressionable boy. “A long time ago, something very bad happened to a woman who lived close to this area.”
“In Eureka?”
“No, it was a place called Falk.”
Vivian furrowed her brow. “The ghost town?”
I nodded. “This is too confusing for you to understand. Suffice it to say, the woman who was hurt is still around and needs help. Some other people are hurting her. The ghosts are simply a distraction. They’re not real ghosts. They’re … images that someone created and they’re from a different time. Does that make sense?”
Troy solemnly shook his head. “No.”
Of course it didn’t make sense. It barely made sense to me. “You’re going to be fine. That’s the important thing. If all goes as planned, you won’t ever see these particular ghosts again.”
“Are you going to make them go away?”
“We’re going to make sure that the person being hurt is no longer being hurt,” I clarified. “That’s the best we can do.”
“Well, I guess that’s something.” Troy brightened considerably as he turned to his mother. “We’re not supposed to stay here much longer. Poet is worried about getting everyone out of here before it gets dark. We should probably leave now even though it’s going to crush Marcus and his plans for that pretty girl.”
Vivian smiled at her son. “Well, then I guess we should get going.” She extended her hand for me to shake. “Thank you so much for everything. We’re going to leave now. I hope everything goes well for you tonight.”
That made two of us. “It should be fine.” I sounded more convinced than I felt. “As for Troy, don’t worry. He’ll find his own way. He has strength of character. Those who have strength of character always do well in this world.�
��
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Vivian focused on her son. “Are you ready to head out?”
“Just one second.” Troy held up a finger to still his mother before focusing on me. “The ghosts are whispering. Can you hear them?”
“No. What are they saying?”
“That it’s almost time.”
I remained calm. “Almost time for what?”
Troy shrugged. “I don’t know. They just say that they’re coming … and soon.”
“Well, we’ll be ready for them.” I mostly meant it. I touched the boy to anchor my emotions a final time before sending him on his way. “Go. You need to get out of here now. I have a lot of work to clear this place before dark.”
“You’ll be fine.” Troy flashed a killer smile in my direction. “You know what to do.”
“I hope so.”
IT TOOK THE BETTER part of the hour to clear the circus grounds. Max’s excuse was a generator mishap. He apologized profusely, gave everyone free return tickets for the following day, and then showed them on their way.
Thirty minutes before dark, the grounds were empty.
Max ordered the clowns and midway workers inside their trailers. Mark tried to put up a fight – he was a businessman at heart, after all – but he clearly read the determined tilt of Max’s shoulders and backed off after minimal argument.
That left only members of our group to pace the dreamcatcher line as we waited for the fight to come to us.
“Max says everything is in position,” Kade offered as he joined me.
I slid my hand into his and nodded. “I know. It’s the waiting wearing on me. I know this will work.”
“You’re still upset about all of it. I can feel it.”
I cocked an eyebrow as I studied the lines of his handsome face. “Are you starting to pick up on feelings and emotions?”
“I just know how your feelings and emotions go. You’re worried about how this is going to end because it doesn’t feel right to you. But I don’t think you’re going to get a better outcome than what we have planned, so you simply have to accept it.”
Freaky Rites (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 6) Page 26