by Kathy Dexter
“Your soul is troubled. You seek forgiveness from the sister you betrayed, don’t you?” Specks of purple sparked along Twyla’s hair. “Perhaps you will find peace tonight. But first, we must erase the angry and turbulent auras among us, or the spirits will not cross the Divide. Logan, will you bring the tray from the table under the stairs?”
While he did that, Twyla returned to the sideboard and removed several bottles and a clay bowl from the cabinet above it. She placed the items on the table near an orange crystal ball, which rested on a three-legged wooden stand.
Hunter took a closer look at the designs around the outside of the ancient-looking bowl. Circles, of course, and the all-seeing eye in a triangle, as well as suns, stars and moons. From her research, Hunter understood the significance of the butterflies in flight as representative of the soul. Unlike many current beliefs, the serpent symbolized rebirth and protection against evil in some of the earliest societies.
Twyla relocated the bowl to a spot in front of Kat. “You have already sensed the occult forces contained in this ancestral vessel. You will use it later.”
Logan took three small, pillar-style candles––white, blue and purple––from the silver tray and positioned them, as Twyla directed, into a scaled-down candelabra in the center of the table. At her signal, he lit them, moved to the wall switch to dim the chandelier, and then took a seat next to Hunter.
Twyla’s lavender eyes shaded to a more intense violet. She lifted one of the three small bottles she brought from the cupboard and poured a drop on the white candle’s flame, which hissed slightly but remained lit. “Sage on white to cleanse evil and restore wisdom.” She repeated the process with the second bottle. “Eucalyptus on blue to heal, purify, and protect.” She delivered the last drop. “Lavender on purple to wash away the tension, bring peace of mind, and overcome barriers inflicted upon us.”
Hunter breathed deeply as the scents washed over her. She could actually see the auras around each person at the table. Purple-red colors emanated in waves, then shifted to blue-green. A sign of anger mollified––turbulence quelled––or just her imagination heightened by the fragrant candles?
Twyla placed her hands, palms downward, in the air above the crystal ball. Streams of light surged between her fingers and the orange surface. A lyrical hum purred inside the ball; its colors undulated from orange to red to yellow.
A white glow glimmered in the globe’s center, twisted, and contorted. Candlelight flickered; blue, white and purple wisps of smoke rose from the flames and circled above the table.
Twyla’s earrings twirled, sprinkling reflected speckles from her crystal ball. “She’s near. Join hands, focus your mental energies, and urge her to come.”
“Find your way to us, spirit.” Ally’s low voice seemed unsure.
Miranda whispered, “Please, Meredith, I have to see you.”
Logan’s request floated through the air. “Bring us the insight only you can give. Guide us to the truth.”
Would a vision of her mother finally destroy the black enchantment in Hunter’s brain? Hunter chanted the spell the Ancients had provided in the grimoire this morning:
Kindred Souls beyond the Pale,
Come this way, pass through the Veil.
Show me where to find the key
To break this curse that shackles me.
Distant panting morphed into a strained groan. A blast of wind whipped around the table and blew out the candles.
“Our friend has leaped across the chasm,” Twyla confirmed, her breathing labored.
Blue phosphorescence streamed from the dragon amulet to the brightening glow of the crystal ball. Phosphorescence and glow interwove and thickened into a luminous, fog-like mass.
“We open our hearts and welcome you into our circle.” Twyla lifted her palms upward. “You traveled a long and difficult path for your loved ones. What message do you have for them?”
A vaporous form arose from the fog and hovered above the table. Words echoed as though from a remote canyon. “Trouble lies ahead for both our worlds.”
“Mother!” Miranda cried and stretched a hand toward the woman taking shape in the soupy haze.
The glowing wraith drifted to Miranda. “My child.”
“Forgive me.” Miranda bowed her head and wept.
“You broke my heart.” Mary Hawthorne floated around her daughter’s shoulders. “But you changed, sheltered my granddaughter, and did your best to protect her.”
“You appeared to me ten years ago,” Logan said quietly.
The spirit glided toward him. “The boy with the canoe.”
“I couldn’t see Hunter from the shore, but you told me to save her.”
That knowledge shook the curtain in Hunter’s brain. She’d seen Mary Hawthorne’s ghost before. “Do you know about the spell on my memories?”
The mist caressed Hunter’s cheek. “My sweet girl, how much I’ve missed you.”
“I wish I remembered you.” Regret tinged Hunter’s words.
“You will. Soon. All the memories will return.”
Hunter hoped that was true. “Including what happened to my parents?”
“Evil, disguised, reached out to destroy them.” The misty figure roiled, like afternoon thunderclouds about to erupt in a stormy sky.
“Who?”
“You have the power within you to remove the curse and discover the truth.” Lightning flashed in the apparition. “Beware. The same evil is close by.”
“A name?”
“I cannot say. The Other Side restricts what can be communicated.”
“You communicated with me ten years ago,” Kat blurted. “I recognize your voice.”
The ghostly figure lightened, flowed over Kat’s head and settled in front of her. “I reached out to you through dreams.”
“When I arrived at Uncle Gideon’s, you spoke to me.” Kat’s voice shook. “Said I should hide my magic.”
“To keep you safe.” The apparition faded in and out. “I stayed near and watched you fight, then grow into a strong and independent woman. Important for the battles ahead.”
“You taught me how to shapeshift. And sent me on secret errands to Mystic Lake as Shadow. Like stashing books of magic in the basement.”
“Riley and I found them,” Hunter whispered.
Faint laughter burbled from Mary’s spirit. “And concocted an ingenious plan to disguise them. Sisters and cousin have proved themselves extraordinarily capable of defending the magic of Mystic Lake. Find the dragon, youngest one. You will require its power.”
Kat straightened, her eyes stormy swirls of blue and green. “What dragon?”
Mary’s form dissolved around the edges. A blue beam from the sapphire dragon coiled around her and anchored her spirit in place. “The amethyst amulet. Meredith. . .pregnant. . .with you. I. . .hid. . .dragon.”
“Where?”
“In. . .museum,” Mary rasped. “I. . .can’t stay. . .called. . .back. . .”
Hand outstretched, Miranda cried, “I love you.”
The apparition melted, dissolved into nothingness.
Ally wiped a hand across her forehead. “Way too intense.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Logan touched Hunter lightly on the shoulder, rose and strode to the light switch.
“No!” Twyla stopped him. “We’re not done.”
Logan returned to his seat between Hunter and Twyla.
Ally blinked. “There’s more?”
“Another spirit awaits. We must use the Manifestation Ritual to assist this one in crossing over.” Twyla turned to Hunter. “You brought the ring?”
Hunter reached into a pocket and pulled out the band which had washed ashore with her father’s bones. Fingers quivering, she handed the sapphire ring to Twyla.
With care, the psychic deposited the jewelry in the bottom of the clay bowl. “Kat, I ask you to pour the remaining liquid from each bottle, one at a time, over the ring. Sage, eucalyptus, and lavender, in that order
.”
Kat poured the sage into the bowl. As yellow steam rose, the carved butterflies fluttered their wings.
“We urge the trapped soul to awaken,” Twlya called.
When eucalyptus mixed with the sage and shifted the steam’s color to black, the image of the serpent slithered along the clay.
“Rebirth, and protection from evil, flows into the spirit.” Twyla raised her arms. “Come to us.”
Lavender changed the churning haze a third time. The figures on the clay bowl glowed with the same purple color.
“Purple breaks the barriers and permits the soul to journey our way.” Twyla stroked the crystal ball and gazed into its center. Tremors in the air crisscrossed around her; the streaks of purple in her hair glimmered. “We await your presence.”
“Look.” Hunter could see the man’s face floating in the mist.
Kat’s voice shook. “It’s Dad.”
Dizzy, Hunter grasped a chair arm for support as the room spun. Visions swirled inside her head, faces from the past rose to the surface, hands reached toward her. To protect her? Heart hammering, Hunter clutched her head as though she could rip the curtain inside. Panic flooded through her, a panic leaping across ten years. She suppressed a scream.
Logan wrapped an arm around her, and leaned close to her ear. “You’re remembering?”
“I d-don’t kn-know.” Hunter’s teeth chattered.
Kat stared. “What did you see?”
Before Hunter could reply, her father’s vaporous form spoke, his words echoing from what seemed a vast ethereal expanse. “Hunter. Katelyn. My. . .beloved. . .children.”
Hunter searched the misty face, the red-gold hair and sapphire eyes so much like her own. “Dad? Tell me about that day on the boat. What happened?”
His voice strengthened. “We were betrayed. I tried to save you and your mother. But I was fatally wounded. By a heart turned black with evil.”
“Where is my sister?” Miranda cried.
Translucence eddied, whirled. Connor moaned. “She fought to save Hunter but was struck down by the enemy. I rushed to save her, only to be stabbed with the same knife.”
“Why can’t we talk to her?” Miranda demanded.
Connor’s image dimmed, deteriorated around the fringes of his ghostly shape. “Her spirit. . .trapped. . .with. . .her bones.”
Hunter whispered, “What can we do?”
“Must. . .bring. . .us. . . together.” His face began to dissipate. “Or. . .I am doomed. . .to stay in Miasium.”
“Miasium?” Kat asked.
“Lost. . .souls.” His form dissolved further.
“Don’t go!” Hunter wanted to grab hold and pull him back.
“Sisters. . .destined. . .to fight. . .enemy. . .together.” The apparition pulsated in the steam, light fluctuating around him. “Evil. . .behind mask. . .of love. . .Must. . .destroy. . .”
The specter flickered like a candle flame succumbing to a sudden breeze. The vapor spiraled, stretched, then evaporated.
Kat clawed the empty air. “Come back.”
Hunter wished she could feel that same intense emotion for a lost father. Would that come when she found her memories of him?
“We still don’t know why they were murdered,” Ally said. “And in such a horrible way.”
“I must find my sister.” Miranda wrung her hands. “We have to reunite her with Connor and bring her peace.”
Kat glowered. “No peace until we avenge their deaths.”
“Your destiny.” Twyla picked up the bowl, nondescript clay once again, the incandescence gone. The ring sat in a small puddle of leftover oils, which Twyla poured into one of the empty bottles. After she corked the mixture, she placed the bottle with utmost care in Kat’s hand. “This liquid is a deadly weapon. It can destroy the evil. Use it wisely.” She dried the ring and held it out to Hunter.
Hunter passed the ring to Kat. “This belongs to you. Our father said we’d fight the enemy side by side. We’ll bring our parents together as well.” She told her sister about the words from the Ancients, how the ring and the blue amber dragon would release their mother’s bones from her grave.
Miranda gasped. “Where is she?”
“Cryptic River.” The images from the trip on her dragon whirled through Hunter.
“Let’s go,” Miranda urged.
A threatening growl sounded from the shadowy corners of the room.
Ally jumped from her chair and scanned the dim-lit areas. “What’s that?”
“My spirit guide and protector,” Twyla told her, smiling. “Come, Tarak.”
A black panther padded across the floorboards as though stalking prey. Yellow eyes bored into each human before the big cat settled on its haunches next to Twyla’s chair.
Twyla brushed a hand across Tarak’s back. The animal burst into a series of purrs, rumbles and hisses. Twyla nodded, then poised her hands over the crystal ball and stared into its whirling colors of orange, red and yellow.
“Quiverings in the cosmos.” Shadowy mists gathered in Twyla’s eyes. “The enemy is near. Someone has broken into the Museum of Magic.”
CHAPTER 45
T HE SAPPHIRE DRAGON QUIVERED in Hunter’s hand. Time to act, even if she didn’t feel ready, couldn’t quite rid her heart of fear. She bolted from her chair. “Let’s go.”
Logan dashed to the wicker basket and pulled out his cell. He turned to the others. “I’m calling for backup, but I can get to the museum first.”
“I’m riding with you.” Hunter held up her amulet. “I have a weapon.”
Kat jumped up. “You’re not leaving without me.”
Hunter tossed the car keys to Ally. “Drive Aunt Miranda back to the cottage.”
“Don’t take off without Lou,” Logan directed Ally. “Come on, ladies.”
Hunter took a few seconds to thank Twyla for the séance.
Twyla hugged her. “May the power of three be with you.”
As the trio hurried to Logan’s car, he finished his call to headquarters. He whipped out of the driveway and sped down the road. Three minutes later, he careened into the parking lot at the museum.
“A race car driver in another life?” Kat shot as they tumbled from the car.
“Fast pursuit training.” Logan said. “Backup should be here in a few minutes. Wait for them while I check out the building.”
Hunter caught his arm. “Nope. Where you go, we go.”
He stiffened, his green eyes almost black. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Sorry, but I own the building and have every right to enter.” Hunter struggled to keep her tone even. His macho attempts to protect her at all costs told her how much he cared, but he had to stop coming to her defense every time. She patted him gently on the chest. “My hero. Just how do you intend to get inside without setting off the alarm and alerting the crooks?”
Logan stared at the museum, shrouded in late evening shadows. “If they’re already in there, they didn’t trigger the alarm either.”
“Magic,” Kat said. “Same as the night of the Halloween Ball.”
“When Dr. Fleming’s men attempted to rob the place.” A cold tremor iced its way along Hunter’s spine. “You think he’s the intruder tonight?”
“We’ll find out.” Frustration etched Logan’s sigh. “But we stick together. We don’t know if he’s alone.”
With Hunter and Logan close behind, Kat padded ahead to the front door. She placed her hands on the wood and sniffed. “Locked.”
Hunter stepped next to her and pulled out the amulet. She pressed the dragon and concentrated. Shut down the security system and unlock the door.
Blue mist swirled out of the amulet and slithered through minute cracks at the top and bottom of the wood, along the hinges, then ebbed against nearby windows, and, ghostlike, permeated the glass surface.
Seconds later, the door swung open. The blue mist, luminescent enough to provide sufficient light, spilled along the murky corridor.
Kat sniffed again. “Magic vapors this way.” She crept down the hallway toward the library.
Hunter moved ahead and pressed her ear against the door. She mind linked with the other two. I hear a chair scraping the floor and some cursing.
As she reached for the doorknob, Logan put his hand on hers. My job.
He twisted the knob and slowly pushed the door open. He slipped inside, Hunter and Kat his shadows.
Logan drew his gun and flipped on the light switch. “Hands where I can see them, Fleming.”
“Wh-a-at?!” The doctor spun, scowling, a large book in one hand, a flashlight in the other. “How did you get in here?”
Chin raised, Hunter smiled. “I own the place, remember? You’re the one trespassing.”
“And the police have a few questions, Dr. Fleming. About your connection to a body in an exploding garage.” Logan kept his gun aimed at the fugitive. “Put down the book and turn around, hands behind your back.”
Fleming dropped the book on the table.
Before Logan had a chance to reach him, Kat pounced on the book. “Look, Hunter! It’s written in that same strange language of Mary Hawthorne’s grimoire.”
Fleming seized Kat and shoved her into Logan, causing both to lose their balance. The doctor ran behind a bookcase.
“Stop!” Logan shouted. He lunged after Fleming.
The lights flickered off.
Trying to locate Kat, Hunter struggled to see in the dark, her senses blinded. A table screeched along the floor. Heavy objects thudded against one another.
“Logan! Are you okay?” Hunter cried.
Flesh smacked against flesh.
Hunter clutched the amulet around her neck. Light. A blue glow melted the darkness.
A door slammed.
“Stay here!” Logan yelled. He opened the library door and ran out.
Heart thumping and breath sputtering in gasps, Hunter swiveled, searching.
Kat groaned, her head on her knees. “Stupid. I should have been on guard.”
“Particularly with someone as nasty as the doctor.” Hunter wanted to chastise Kat more, but what was the point? Hunter had made her own mistakes misjudging Fleming in the past.
Hunter squatted next to Kat and looked at the book she’d taken from Fleming. “You’re right. The title is written in the language of the Ancients. What did the doctor plan to do with this?” She eyed the paintings on the wall. Using the amulet, she received assurances the miniaturized books concealed within the artwork remained untouched.