by Nova Nelson
The spirit nodded, giggling mischievously behind her hand, then she disappeared into Oliver’s body.
His rigid and determined posture slackened, and he swayed dangerously for a second before regaining his balance. Then Ruby launched into her lesson.
“Possession is a close cousin to channeling. However, it comes with a total loss of control. If you can master channeling, you need not fear possession. But for those who don’t have the ability to channel, possession is a risk with dire consequences.”
Oliver grinned at me flirtatiously. “He thinks you’re pretty,” he said.
I jerked my head back. “Who thinks I’m pretty?” I asked.
“He does,” Oliver replied.
“That would be the ghost speaking,” Ruby said. “She’s clearly not experienced with possession. Spirits will quickly learn that if they wish to evade detection, they’ll speak about the body they possess in the first person, not third.”
“Whoops,” said Oliver. “Let me try that again. I think you’re pretty.”
“Um, thanks?”
Ruby stepped closer to Oliver, standing on tiptoes to get a closer look at his face. “As the entity settles in, it will be able to access deeper and deeper levels of the host’s mind and memories. Ah, there it is!” She pointed at Oliver’s eyes. “See that? Come close.”
When I did, she added, “What color are Oliver’s irises usually?”
I racked my brain. “Dark brown.”
“And what color are they now?”
I squinted at them. “Hazel … no, now they’re green.”
“Presumably the spirit had green eyes in her life. The eyes truly are the windows to the soul. You can use them to peek in and see who’s home. And right now, our lovely spirit assistant is the one we’re seeing and speaking with.”
“Ooh,” said Oliver. “Who is this Zoe Clementine girl? We like her…”
“We’d better hurry this up,” I said, sensing Oliver’s deep, dark secrets on the horizon.
“While the spirit has access to the host’s mind, if it hasn’t been in for long, it’s still familiarizing itself. Imagine that it’s in a dark room full of storage cabinets. The host’s memories and emotions and ideas are stories in those drawers, but the entity doesn’t necessarily know which drawer contains what. The drawers closer to the front contain the more often accessed thoughts, while the ones in the back are the thoughts and wishes and memories the host is trying to forget. A malevolent entity will feel its way to the back of the room first, since it’s those secrets that provide the most power over the host.
“What’s important for our purposes, though, is to note that if the host has not been possessed for long, the entity is still lost in the disorganization of the living mind. So, if you can ask the host a personal question they would know, something they should be able to answer right away, you can judge by their reaction time whether they’re in control of their own mind or whether something else has taken over. For instance.” She stepped in front of me to face Oliver. “What was your score on the Mancer Trials, Oliver?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. I looked back and forth between my tutors, and after a few seconds more, Ruby stepped back. “See? Oliver Bridgewater knows he scored a nine hundred and ninety nine out of a thousand on the Mancer Trials. He’ll never forget it because he was one point short of perfect, and that’s haunted him for years—everyone in town knows that, even if he won’t openly admit to it. It was quite the gossip around Eastwind right after it happened. I’m not sure if that bit of knowledge is tucked away toward the back of his mind with all the other things he wish he could forget or if he keeps it where he can retrieve it quickly, but either way, if we were speaking with Oliver, he would have known the answer immediately.”
Oliver said, “I memorize passages from the textbooks at night so I can recite them to Zoe the next day and she assumes I have the whole book memorized.”
Ruby pressed her lips together as her eyebrows arched. “Okay then.” She paused. “There are further subtle ways to detect possession, but I think we’ve run out of time with our host if we don’t want to end up with an earful of his deepest confessions. How about I show you how to exorcise?”
“Sounds good.”
She moved her feet shoulder-width apart. “Always good to steady yourself before attempting this. It can be a bit of an impact when the spirit hits. To rid a host of a possession, you must channel the spirit into yourself first, and then dispel it from your system and back into the spiritual realm. So really, it’s a combination of your skills in channeling and banishing. I’ll do it this time, and in the future, when I believe you’re ready, you’ll get a try.” She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply before cracking an eye open and adding, “By the way, Oliver didn’t say anything incriminating or even mildly embarrassing, understand?”
I nodded, because I did understand. What I understood was that we needed him as a test subject again, and he would never agree to it if he knew how quickly he’d started to spill romantic confessions.
Ruby stumbled a step back, and a moment later, she opened her eyes. “All better.” She grinned.
Oliver blinked rapidly. “Are we done?”
“Yes, dear. Why don’t you conjure up my table and chairs and have a seat while I make you some tea for your nerves?” She handed him back his wand.
He rubbed a hand down his face. “Deal.” With a flick of his wrist, the table and chairs reappeared and he flopped down onto one.
“The good news,” called Ruby, minutes later, from the kitchen that was more a part of the parlor than not, “is that possessions are incredibly rare outside of Halloween, when the spirits get a little gutsier than usual. For the most part, so long as there’s a Fifth Wind witch around, spirits can just as easily ask us for help as do a thing themselves through possession.”
“And why would they ask for help? What if we don’t want to help them or they’re up to no good?”
Ruby stirred the cup of tea as she brought it over to Oliver. “All spirits and entities are like water and crime. They follow the path of least resistance. They are, on the whole, incredibly lazy. Their energy is limited to what they can draw from the environment around them, and while possession allows them to pull plenty of power from the host, most are not motivated enough to initiate the act.”
“That’s good,” said Oliver. “I never want to be possessed again.”
Ruby shot me a quick, guilty look.
“Drink your tea,” she said, nodding at him. “It’ll help replenish your strength for the wand lessons.”
Ugh. My least favorite part of magic. The lessons where Oliver made everything look easy and I waved my expensive wand around and, if I was lucky, it did nothing. If I was unlucky, it exploded things. Not big explosions, though really, any explosion is too big when it’s accidental.
“Oliver looks pretty tired,” I said. “Maybe we can call it a night?”
For once, my nerdy tutor looked like he was totally behind the idea.
Ruby relented. “Okay, but just this once. We’ll have to do double time tomorrow.”
“Fine by me,” I said.
Once Oliver had finished his tea and the door shut behind him, I stood from the table, eager to start my bedtime routine.
“Where are you going?” Ruby asked.
I froze mid-step. “To take a shower? And then go to sleep?”
She chuckled. “Oh Nora, dear. That’s so very optimistic of you, but while Oliver has been excused, I’m afraid our lessons for the night have only just started.” She grinned at me, her head tilted slightly to the side.
“Okay,” Grim said. “Now you’re definitely in trouble.”
Chapter Two
Sitting at the parlor table, knowing I wasn’t allowed to leave but unsure what was coming next, I started to feel a little resentful. I’d worked a long day. Couldn’t I just get one easy night?
Yeah, that’s the way to do it, Nora. Get self-righteous so you don’t feel like a guilty c
hild waiting for punishment.
I sighed. At least Ruby was making dinner. Or rather, reheating it with the spell Tanner often used around Medium Rare.
I took the opportunity to slip on my staurolite amulet again and put my head down on the table for a quick recharge. Of course, as soon as I did, the food was ready, and she brought it over.
Pork chops with a honey glaze and garlic brussels sprouts, which I’d cooked us the night before. The aroma washed all other thoughts from my mind, and Ruby was kind enough to let me get the first few bites down before she started conversation again. I tossed a piece of pork to each of the familiars as she said, “I know you quenched.”
I couldn’t grasp what she was saying. “What?”
“Quenching. We talked about this. Where a Fifth Wind steals the light from the space she’s in.”
Oh right. At Sheehan’s Pub. I hadn’t known it was an ability I possessed until I’d already used it to keep Donovan Stringfellow from being clawed to death by a couple of trashy werewolves. I hadn’t told Ruby that it had happened, but in hindsight, I hadn’t been too sneaky with my question about it, either.
“Sorry?” I said around a mouthful of meat.
“It’s nothing to apologize for. But it did serve as a bit of a wake-up call for me.” She set her fork and knife down on her plate and stared at me as the corners of her lips drooped. “If anything, I owe you an apology. I’ve wanted to delay your progress, to err on the side of caution. But now I realize that’s the wrong approach. Your powers don’t develop at the rate at which you receive training. No, your training must meet or exceed the rate at which your powers develop. And let me tell you, we’re far behind.”
I slowed my chewing. Wherever she was going with this was not going to help my digestion, was it?
She nodded at my plate. “Finish your dinner. You’re going to need the strength.”
I swallowed my bite. “Are we practicing quenching?” I asked, looking around. There was very little light in Ruby’s home, so it seemed like a smart place to start.
“Oh no, no, no …” She shook her head fiercely. “Quenching is more advanced than what you’re ready for. Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to do it even once without exploding.”
“Exploding?” Specks of food flew from my mouth, and I brought my hand up to cover it too late. Whatever. Not the most pressing matter. “Did you just say exploding?”
“Yes, dear. Please cover your mouth next time. Tonight we’re going to dip a toe into a vast, deep ocean. We’ll get to the more advance lessons soon, but first, we must test the waters.” She paused. “Once you finish your dinner, that is.”
I packed my mouth full of food, then pushed my plate away. If I didn’t get this down quickly, my nerves might make it impossible.
Once the plates were cleared, we stood again in the parlor, facing each other. I could hear the early August wind outside, and a few of the baubles and totems hanging from Ruby’s low ceiling spun and wobbled at random, working their defensive magic against uninvited visitors from the spirit realm and who-knew-where-else.
“What you’re about to do is something that cannot be undone,” she said.
“It’s like you’re actively trying to scare me,” I said.
“I am. You should be a little bit afraid going into this.”
“Um, well, check. Knocked that item off the list. Now do I get to know what we’re about to do?”
She clasped her hands in front of her, and they disappeared up her long, baggy sleeves. “Not we. I’ve already done it. And part of me wishes I hadn’t, which was why I was so hesitant to take you to this place.”
“Really pouring it on thick with the drama,” said Grim.
“You’re telling me.”
“If you don’t survive this, you should know that I was the one who ate that steak you left on the table last week.”
“What? You swore up and down that it was Clifford.”
“Right. I lied. I do that sometimes. Anyway, I’m not sorry about it. I thought you should know that, too.”
I blinked to clear my head, recalled the last words she’d spoken, and asked, “Okay, so what exactly are we doing?”
“We’re going to open the door to your past lives.”
“Nope!” Grim scrambled to his feet and made for the stairs. “I’m out. This soup is too spicy for my tastes.”
“What? You’re leaving me?”
“Clearly. I’ve heard about past life regression. I want none of it. Nah-uh. You witches think it’s bad? It’s worse for animals. Very few happy endings for our past lives.” He padded up the stairs and out of sight.
Not exactly comforting, but alright, fine. Grim’s presence was rarely helpful anyway.
“How do I do this?” Was I really about to visit my past lives? The prospect would excite me if Ruby and Grim hadn’t acted like it was practically a death sentence.
Ruby explained the process slowly, and when she was done, she arched her brows at me and asked, “Ready?”
“Probably not.”
She nodded approval at that. “Now, all you’re doing is opening the door, peeking through, and then shutting it again. Understood? Do not walk through. Not even a step. And make sure the door is firmly shut. If a lock is present, lock it.”
“Got it.”
“Amulet?”
I pulled it off and handed it over, then I closed my eyes and did as she’d instructed.
I imagined a dark hallway. Lining the walls on either side were people from my past, staring at me as I passed. The farther I walked, the older the connections. Each stood straight and silent as a soldier at attention. This was as Ruby had said it would be. I wasn’t to speak to any of these people; they were just projections anyway.
When I passed Tanner on one side and Grim on the other, I knew I was at the end of Eastwind. What came next wasn’t a past life, though it sure felt like one. My life back in Austin wasn’t a past life in the strict sense, though. I was still the same person with the same memories that were accessible to me without opening any doors.
I passed Neil, the dud of a boyfriend I’d been wasting my time with in New Orleans before my car accident had sent me here. Next came my former employees, then my former bosses. I kept walking until I saw the two people I had dreaded seeing, knowing it would be painful. And it was. They were even wearing the same outfits they’d had on the last time I ever saw them.
The urge to stop, to speak to them just in case there was a sliver of a chance they would talk back, was nearly overwhelming.
They’re not real. They’re just memories. Imprints.
So I refrained from looking directly at my parents as I passed.
They were the last two in the long rows. Beyond them, the hall was empty, and I was urged onward by a light glowing at the far end, creeping out from around a closed door. This was it.
I paused once I stood on the doorstep, my hand hovering an inch above the knob. Open it, look around, then close it, I reminded myself.
Easy enough, despite the dread roiling in my gut. With a deep inhale, I grabbed the handle, twisted and pulled.
The door came open easily, as if someone were pushing it toward me, and blinding light streamed in. My eyes took a moment to adjust, and when they did, I found myself staring out over a vast ocean, sunlight reflecting over the water’s surface. I did as Ruby instructed, peeking through the frame, looking around, but not stepping across.
The mammoth metal mast of a ship jutted out ahead of me, and beyond that, the open, infinite ocean. Salty air blew against my face, and I was tempted to stay and enjoy it a bit longer, but I knew that was unwise. I’d done what I’d set out to do. I’d opened the door. I’d looked through. And while what lay beyond made little sense, I understood it was time to shut the door.
This part was crucial. Ruby’s warning, her uneasy tone, her urging to lock it if possible, rang in my ears as I stepped back, and pushed the door closed.
There was no resistance. It shut eas
ily, clicking firmly into place. I looked for a lock but found none, so I jiggled the knob a bit, pulling it without twisting, but the door stayed right where it was.
Huh. Easy enough. Almost too easy. Maybe I was more gifted than I’d realized since I’d managed to complete this without a hitch.
So, feeling pretty good about myself, I opened my eyes and was back in Ruby’s parlor. I met her worried expression with a grin. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“You did it?”
“Yeah.” I grabbed the staurolite back from her and slung the chain over my neck. “I don’t know what you were so wound up about. It was simple.”
“And the door shut?”
It was like she was disappointed that I wasn’t convulsing on the floor in the aftermath. “Yeah. Easier than your front door shuts, actually.”
“Are you sure?” she persisted.
“Yes,” I said, impatiently. “I opened it, got a look around, and shut it again. Maybe it’s just like you said, and I’m more powerful than you thought.”
“What did you see?”
I shrugged. “The ocean.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Interesting. Are you scared of water?”
I chuckled, taken aback. “What? No! I mean, I don’t like submerging my head, and I was never a big fan of the Gulf of Mexico, but who is?”
“Ah.” She nodded, looking satisfied with herself. “I see. Okay.”
“What?” I asked, suddenly paranoid. “What is it?”
She shrugged a single shoulder, patted me on the arm and waddled toward the stairs. “Nothing. Just that if you don’t have a fear of water now, you likely will before long.” Just before she disappeared upstairs, she said, “Night, dear.”
As I stood there with my mouth hanging open, I was fairly sure I had just discovered another Fifth Wind power: casting severe foreboding upon others. And Ruby was a master of it.
Chapter Three
Friday mornings were always slow at Medium Rare. My theory was that Eastwinders were dragging by the end of the week, but that could have just been me projecting. I was especially tired this morning as I rolled silverware and wondered when Oliver would teach me how to do this by wand—you know, useful magic. I bet Donovan knew how to do it. He could prepare multiple complicated cocktails at a time using only his wand.