In the back, under a loft filled with cases of rare gemstones and candles, sat larger cases filled with curiosities from all over the world. Shrunken heads, skulls carved from obsidian, geodes, claws from who knows what animal, and rare glyphs chiseled into stones from all over the world filled the cases under low lighting. The sunlight seemed to be unable to reach the back corridor of Valley of Ashes.
Behind the counter, her aunt, Patricia Freya, was carving something into a candle. She offered the woman buying the candle a spoonful of honey, and then wrapped up the candle in paper, and placed it in a bag.
Ashley wandered around for a bit, looking at all the strange items in her aunt’s shop. Her eyes traveled the walls over strings of beads, tapestries, and shawls for sale. Insects pinned to frames hung in neat rows. Animal skulls peered at her, displayed on shelves and tribal masks grinned from the loft above. Ashley thought she could wander for hours, but she stopped, melded to the floor when saw the framed canvas.
Behind her aunt, hung a gilded frame, holding an empty canvas.
“Ashley?”
“Aunt Patrica,” she startled and turned around.
“I thought you would be by sooner,” Patricia smiled. “You’ve been busy with your friends. Oh, and congratulations on the soccer team.”
“Did Mom tell you?” Ashley asked.
“No,” Patricia smiled.
Ashley shifted in her sneakers. She suddenly felt uncomfortably warm in her hoodie.
“Why did you give that lady a spoon of honey?” Ashley asked.
“It binds you to the spell,” Patricia answered, simply, as if Ashley should already know that.
“Wait, what spell?” she asked. “The thing you carved in the candle?”
Patricia nodded.
“They’re runes. Old English. Our family is very old. We’re descendants of the Druids, the ones who built Stonehenge. We brought the old ways with us to the new world. All the spells are in Old English. You can bind someone to the spell with honey or with salt. It works better with salt.”
“I don’t know, Aunt Patricia,” Ashley hesitated. “I don’t know that you can cast a spell with a candle.”
“You don’t think you can manifest good things in your life by focusing your energy?”
Patricia asked the question, playfully, like she already knew the answer. Her aunt was always a little spacey, but Ashley didn’t know about this whole spell business. She had just wanted to ask her about Eva, the girl in the frame.
Ashley glanced at Patricia’s frame. It was similar to Ashley’s, but it wasn’t the frame that made her gasp out loud.
Eva had invaded Aunt Patricia’s frame. It was the same auburn haired girl in the same gray waistcoat, with the same bonnet.
“Was she always in that painting?” Ashley asked, her voice shaking.
“Your great aunt, Eva?” Patricia asked. “No, dear. She comes and goes.”
Chapter 8
You’ve Got Spirit
Eva eyed Prospero from her prison cell. Her father had fled to Philadelphia with Minnie. He hadn’t wanted to, but after Eva was accused of witchcraft, she used her powers to sway his mind, to force him to take Minnie and flee to safety. She tried to control Prospero’s mind, but he wouldn’t look directly at her.
“Your mother tried the same thing,” Prospero said.
“What do you know about my mother?” Eva shot back.
“That her powers were stronger than yours,” Prospero sneered. “It’s a shame she died in the famine. I wish she would have taken the extra rations.”
He had locked her in an iron cell. She tried to call the keys to her, but they were locked in a chest outside the prison.
“I’m going to win the election. You’re going to use those powers of yours to sway the people of the colony to vote for me, or you are going to die.”
“I’d rather die,” Eva shouted.
She could only think of Titus. He had tried to rescue her twice. The guards had shot their muskets at him, but missed. She could hear his thoughts. He was nearby. She could hear Prospero’s thoughts, too. He was deathly serious about killing her if she didn’t win him the election.
“Suit yourself, girl,” Prospero spat at her. “Either marry me and sway the votes of the colonists or I’ll have you burned at the stake.”
Eva focused on the bars and rattled the iron, but she couldn’t bend them. Prospero laughed and walked away.
“You have spirit!” he called.
“You have no idea,” Eva hissed through gritted teeth.
Eva had the spirit of her mother and the will to survive, and there was no earthly way that Prospero Phillips was going to get the best of her.
Chapter 9
In A Pickle
Ashley picked at her dinner. Pickle, her Pomsky puppy, licked at the scraps of sesame beef she dropped. The half Pomeranian, half Husky, tiny ball of fur slept under her covers and kicked her sheets into a small hurricane, dreaming of chasing cars.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” her mom asked.
Ashley nodded.
She was fine. She was just anxious for Dom’s text. She wanted to talk to him about the Fire Ghost. Since she had visited her aunt’s store, Eva had moved from the painting twice. She was becoming more active. It scared her, but the second time it happened, she found that she could predict the movement.
A mild heat would come creeping up her back, into the base of her neck. The space between her shoulder blades would vibrate tiny waves that were almost electric. Then, when she turned around, Eva would either disappear from the painting, or reappear. The strange thing was, when Eva returned to the canvas, Ashley would get a small glimpse of her Aunt Patricia in her shop.
Ashley’s stomach tangled into one anxious knot. She dropped more bits of ginger noodles for Pickle. The puppy thanked her by licking her bare toes.
“I’m going to walk Pickle,” she announced.
She slid on her shoes and grabbed Pickle’s leash. Thanksgiving was getting closer and the weather was cooling off. Soon, walking Pickle wouldn’t be such a fun chore.
Ashley didn’t want to seem desperate to talk to Dom, so she turned the opposite way down Brady street. The trees were starting to turn and a few dry, flaky leaves skittered across the brick pavers that lined the streets. Ashley’s mind wandered, and to her surprise, her mouth filled with a sweet, earthy taste.
A loud banging startled her even more.
“Ashley!” Keegan Cole shouted and waved.
She hadn’t noticed that she was passing Mr. Beantown, or else she would have walked in to say hello. Before, in her old neighborhood, she never would have stopped by. She surprised herself by making friends so quickly.
Keegan waved her in. He was working behind the counter and his hair was pulled back into a bun. Ruby was perched on a barstool next to the antique espresso machine. Her blonde and pink hair was twisted back into two French braided pigtails. Pickle tried to chew on the end of one of them when she picked him up.
“I wish I could have a dog,” Ruby announced, making kissing faces at Pickle, “but the condo development doesn’t allow them.”
“Yeah, we can’t have any pets,” Keegan said, shaking his head. “Here, Ashley. Try this.”
Keegan was working on a tray of chocolate truffles. He held the tray out to Ashley and Ruby, filled with round balls of chocolate, decorated with sprinkles and drizzles of more chocolate.
“It’s my new project,” he announced proudly. “We’ve always had cookies and stuff, but I thought about more things we could sell in the shop.”
Ashley bit into the sweet chocolate and the familiar earthy taste filled her mouth. Her eyes widened as she realized that she had tasted the chocolate minutes before Keegan had offered it to her.
“I know, amazing,
right?” Ruby asked.
It was amazing, but the delicious chocolate wasn’t the reason for the shocked expression on Ashley’s face. The flavor that filled her tastebuds was the same taste in her mouth as she passed the front of the coffee shop moments before.
“You have a secret talent, Keegan. These are dope,” Ruby smiled.
“Really good, Keegan,” Ashley agreed.
There she is...
Keegan was saying thank you, but it wasn’t Keegan’s voice that filled her head.
I knew I’d find you...
It was Blaze’s.
“What’s up guys,” Blaze greeted with a dazzling grin.
Ashley spun around on the barstool. Blaze extended his hand to Keegan for a smooth high five. Ruby let out a little squeak and waved. Her mouth was full of chocolate, since she had been tasting all the flavors of the truffles Keegan was making. Pickle let out short yapping barks and bounced around Blaze’s high top sneakers. They were as gleaming white as his teeth. He smiled and picked up the puppy.
“Hey, little guy,” Blaze laughed as Pickle licked his nose. “Are we taking this guy on a walk, Ash, or what?”
Pickle’s tiny legs swam in the air at lightning speed.
“We can,” Ashley agreed, slowly.
It would give her something to do while she was waiting on Dom’s text. She was curious why Blaze’s voice floated through her head. Maybe if she walked with him for a little while, she would hear it again.
Keegan clasped Blaze’s hand across the counter and Ashley waved to Keegan and Ruby, who were still chocolate tasting.
“You’re gonna eat too many of those and your butt is gonna get huge.”
“Shut your face, man bun,” Ruby snapped back.
They closed the door. The cold night air hit them as soon as they stepped out of the warm, cozy coffee shop. Ashley’s body constricted and she shivered, her teeth involuntarily chattering.
“You okay?” Blaze smiled and wrapped an arm around Ashley’s shoulder.
“You’re gonna catch a cold,” Ashley said.
She noticed that Blaze’s hair was damp. He smelled like he had just showered. She brushed a hair back that was curling around his ear. His mohawk was growing out.
“I’m tough,” he chuckled.
Blaze was tough. He was the toughest striker on the boy’s team, but he wasn’t a smart player. Ashley had watched him at practice. He and Dom were both strong and athletic, but Dom was smart. Dom waited for his moment, working around the other players, and then like magic, his shots would sail into the goal. Blaze worked on power alone.
Ashley’s phone buzzed.
“I should go,” Ashley hesitated.
“So soon?” Blazed asked, not to Ashley, but to Pickle.
The puppy yipped happily and trotted down the sidewalk, shaking its fluffy little tail.
“Okay,” Ashley caved, and sank into Blaze’s side.
He was radiating warmth. Ashley relaxed into the rhythm of the walk, not thinking too much of his arm around her shoulder.
Blaze was guarded, but talked easily. He told Ashley about his dad, the soccer team, and school. Ashley spilled the beans about protesting the move to Oklahoma. Blaze laughed and pushed her away, teasing her for her bratty nonsense. When Ashley finally asked, he admitted that he knew Brooklynn wasn’t in art class with them.
“What?” Ashley asked in disbelief.
“I just wanted to hang out with you.”
Blaze shrugged and grinned his signature, charming smile. Ashley rolled her eyes. Pickle barked and sat down in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Pickle,” Ashley groaned.
He always did that when he was tired of walking.
“Okay, let’s go home,” Ashley conceded.
Blaze walked Ashley back to her door. He pointed to the apartment above the storefront.
“You know, these apartments have to have access to the street to be up to code,” Blaze explained. “My parents had to build one out when they bought the shop, so they could be in compliance.”
“Interesting,” Ashley admitted.
She had never thought of the maintenance it would take to get the old storefronts up to code. There could be all sorts of plumbing and electrical behind the walls. There could be structural damage over time that had to be fixed.
“There’s a lot going on behind the scenes that most people don’t think about,” Blaze said, looking up to the facade of the building.
Ashley’s vision blurred again at the edges. She sensed something dark coming from Blaze, a storm. He felt out of control. Images of a rolling thunder cloud flashed through her mind.
Then, in an instant, it was gone.
“I’m starting to realize that,” she said.
Ashley looked up to her bedroom window. There was a faint light glowing from her window. She hadn’t left her lamp on.
“Well, goodnight,” Blaze’s voice broke through her thoughts.
He leaned in, halfway, to kiss her. Ashley was clueless on what to do, and she knew even less about her feelings for Blaze, or Dom. There was so much confusion wrapped up in one second of time.
Just then, Pickle’s short yaps sliced through the moment. He yanked on the leash, sending Ashley stumbling into her door. Pickle kept barking and tugging on the leash, kicking his tiny paws on the door to her apartment.
“Worst wingman ever,” Blaze laughed.
He stepped back and waved goodbye. Ashley let out a laugh, and when Blaze turned to walk down the street, she released a sigh of relief. She let Pickle inside and he scampered up the stairs, barking the whole way. Ashley followed, and when she reached her bedroom, it was dark, except for the glow of the streetlight through the window.
Be careful...
The voice was small and feather light in her ears, but unmistakable.
Ashley turned to face Eva in the painting. Her slight smile was replaced with a look of warning. Pickle jumped up on her bed and started burrowing himself under the covers. Ashley’s phone buzzed again. She looked, expecting Dom, but it was a text from Kylie Phillips. She tossed her phone aside.
Ashley was too tired to think about the strange visions, the voice in her room, Blaze’s ventured kiss, Kylie’s text, or the Fire Ghost. She fell asleep to her puppy’s soft snores, and her phone buzzing beside her.
Chapter 10
A Slippery Slope
The next day, Ashley ignored Kylie’s text. She was, quite frankly, terrified of the blonde girl in the expensive cashmere sweaters. Kylie stomped down the hallways with Baron, looking upset that she had to be at school. A miserable looking Tessa was trailing behind her most times, except when Kylie dismissed her to clean out her locker. Ashley wanted no part of that.
Dom texted her on Sunday. He asked if she wanted to come over for queso and mini golf. After practice, she walked over to En Fuego with an essential oil blend for Ignacia Chavez and a pounding heart. She wondered if Dom had talked to Blaze at all. The boys had practice earlier that morning.
“What’s up,” Dom nodded.
He tossed Ashley a golf ball. It was red, her favorite color. She decided to test the waters.
“How was practice?” she asked.
Dom gritted his teeth and pulled up the hem of his shorts, slightly, to reveal an impressive turf burn on top of his knee. The skin was rubbed raw in a perfect circle.
“I can fix that,” Ashley insisted. “Well, my mom can.”
Megan Nirran had an oil blend for everything. They made their way to Witch Hazel Naturals, with Dom limping and complaining about how Blaze had clobbered him at practice with a bad slide. Ashley didn’t say anything.
When they opened the shop door, her mom was busy with a cold compress for a customer, so she told Ashley to mix up a roller with
a few drops of the pain-away blend with tea tree oil. She was concentrating on the tea tree oil, when the bottle slid directly into her hand.
Dom shot a look her way.
“Slippery table,” Ashley replied nervously.
She mixed the blend and bent down behind the counter to put away the two oils. A familiar wave of tingles floated over her hands, this time, instead of up her spine. She focused on the oil bottles and floated them up, six inches, and set them on the shelf. Ashley gasped to herself and shut the cabinet.
She busied herself with rolling the oil over Dom’s turf burn and wrapping it up. She felt her hands warm and tingle as she wrapped the bandage.
“Wow, that oil really works,” Dom observed. “It doesn’t hurt at all, anymore.”
“Do you want to try it on the stairs?” Ashley asked. “You can see my painting.”
“Yeah,” Dom replied cautiously.
Ashley could tell he was spooked. She couldn’t make out words, like with Blaze, but waves of apprehension seemed to spill over from Dom.
“It’s fine, really. She’s nice,” Ashley encouraged.
They paced up the stairs. Dom was familiar with the layout, since the apartment mirrored his own, over the restaurant. As it turns out, he lived in his converted attic, too.
“Wow, she looks like you,” Dom said, standing in front of the painting and blowing out an exasperated breath.
Ashley had just turned thirteen and Eva was only sixteen when the painting was done. Ashley stared at her as the tiny, familiar spikes crawled up her neck.
“She’s moving,” Ashley said.
“Agh!” Dom shouted, backing up and falling over a trunk sitting by Ashley’s bed.
He tumbled back, but his head shot up, just in time to see the painting bleed with light, erupt into white fames, and settle back into a blank canvas.
“Eres una bruja,” Dom whispered, breathing heavily.
“That’s not nice,” Ashley shot back. “I show you a painting of my dead great aunt, erupting into flames, and now I’m a witch.”
“Well, what was that, then?” Dom shouted. “And since when do you speak Spanish?”
The Fire Ghost (Phantom Elements Book 2) Page 4