Spirit

by Shauna Granger

  “Yeah, that,” Steven said, “but not.”

  Sherry said, a little too enthusiastically, “Very interesting. Have you had any physical symptoms or just metaphysical? Forgive me, I’m not trying to belittle it, but it’s not something doctors would have many case studies on, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Jodi said quietly, dropping her eyes before she rested her head on Steven’s shoulder.

  “So now you know why we need your help,” Steven said. “Will you help us?”

  “Steven, Jodi,” Deb said, and the note in her voice was all any of us needed to hear to know her answer. Steven pressed his lips into a hard line before nodding, as if he wasn’t the least bit surprised, but still disappointed. He patted Jodi’s knee and they stood up, sliding out from their chairs and the table.

  “Thanks anyway,” Steven said, surprising Deb with the abrupt actions.

  “Wait, kids, you don’t understand.” Deb got to her feet quickly.

  “Yes, we do,” Jodi said. The lack of heat in her voice surprised me. “I told Steven you wouldn’t help us. We understand why; it’s fine, really.” In any other tone, she would have sounded like a snippy, sullen teenager, but she only sounded tired and older than her eighteen years.

  “We’re so sorry for your loss,” Steven said politely before leading Jodi out of the kitchen and to the front door. Their abrupt departure left the three women staring after them, slack jawed and speechless.

  Steven was pulling the front door closed behind him when Sherry caught up to them. She pulled the door open, out of Steven’s hand.

  “Steven, Jodi, please wait,” Sherry said, holding one hand out in front of her.

  Jodi started to talk, shaking her head slowly. Her hair barely shifted with the movement. Watching Jodi move without air swirling around her like a perfectly tuned in dance partner was so strange.

  “No, no,” she said softly, stopping Jodi. “Just wait out here for a few minutes, okay?”

  Steven and Jodi shared a look, but when Steven shrugged at her, Jodi said, “All right, sure.”

  “I’ll be right back, just a couple of minutes,” she whispered before slipping back inside, shutting the door softly behind her. Steven led Jodi over to the wooden bench on the porch and pulled her down next to him, wrapping one arm around her shoulder to tuck her close to his side.

  “What do you suppose she’s doing?” he asked.

  “No idea,” she replied.

  “Think she wants to help us and is trying to convince Deb?”

  “Maybe.”

  “She seemed super interested when you told her why our powers are fading.”

  “She did,” Jodi agreed, nodding her head against him.

  It was more than a couple of minutes before Sherry came out again. Jodi had even started to doze off under Steven’s arm with his hand stroking her arm slowly, giving her some feeble warmth. The sound of the door opening startled Jodi awake. She jerked up, blinking rapidly.

  “Sorry,” Sherry said, her face pinched in a grimace.

  “It’s fine.” Jodi waved her apology off. “So what’s up?”

  “Well, I told Deb making this kind of decision without putting it to a coven vote wasn’t really fair. I mean, we’ve all met you, helped you, in the past, so we should all get a say in whether or not we help you again.” Sherry spoke rapidly, her words running together in her excitement, but Jodi and Steven seemed to be following just fine.

  “And?” Steven said when she paused to catch her breath.

  “Well, she argued, a lot,” a small laugh escaped her, “but then Jane agreed. Jane is her Second, so she had to listen to her. So,” she took a deep breath, “we are going to put it to a coven vote. Majority rules, so we may be able to help you.”

  “It’s something, I guess,” Jodi said, but not as though she believed that vote would come out any differently than the conversation they had with Deb. Jodi stood, stretching her arms above her head, and said, “C’mon, Steven, let’s go.”

  “Thanks,” Steven said to Sherry, putting his hand on her arm and giving it a squeeze. “It really means a lot that you spoke out for us.”

  “Of course,” she said quickly, her eyes darting to Jodi’s back before she looked at Steven again. “Listen,” she whispered, stepping closer to Steven, “if the vote should go against you, I’ll help you anyway, and I think I can convince Jane too.”

  “Really?” Steven blinked at Sherry. This woman was almost a stranger to us, but she was willing to go against her High Priestess’s wishes to help us. “But why?”

  “Because I think it’s the right thing to do.”

  ***

  Though I couldn’t tell time here, the ache in my lower back and the twinge between my shoulders told me I had sat hunched against that tree for at least a couple of hours. I groaned as I unfolded myself and tried to work out the kinks.

  I glanced around. Jacob and Balor were still sleeping by the fire, and Fearghus and Angus slept on their feet by the river. I knew they would wake before long and we would break camp and continue on. If I wanted to be in any shape to ride, I needed to get some sleep. Breaking the connection to the looking glass was difficult until I saw Steven drop Jodi off before he headed home. Knowing they would do something to find me, whether Deb was willing to or not, gave me a fluttering of hope, pleasantly twisting my stomach.

  I knew they would have a better chance of succeeding with the entire coven helping them, but if Jane and Sherry helped them, they would at least have a complete circle with four points to get them through the complicated spell. With our natural abilities, we had never worried about having a complete circle. But with each day, their powers grew weaker and weaker. They needed to follow the rules of magic to the letter now.

  I crept over to Balor, pulling Jacob’s jacket tighter around me as I lowered myself to the ground and snuggled into the great white dog. He made a rumbling protest, but when he cracked one red eye open and saw me, he huffed, making a cloud of dust erupt before he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. I smirked before laying my head on his side. Leaving him behind would be hard, and the thought made me catch my breath. I closed my eyes tight, trying not to think about that. It didn’t do to dwell on things I couldn’t change because it would only bring me closer to joining the Hunt and keeping me in the Outlands.

  I opened my eyes again and saw Jacob’s outline through the low campfire. If Jodi and Steven worked quickly, they would summon me before we found the edge, and I would abandon Jacob in our quest. A painful stitch blossomed in my chest, but I reminded myself that not leaving someone behind had gotten me here in the first place. I closed my eyes against that ugly thought and begged sleep to pull me under so I could quiet my mind, even if only for a short while.

  ***

  Jacob and I rode mostly in silence after we broke camp and saddled the horses. I blamed poor sleep, making my excuses for being quiet and possibly rude. Jacob couldn’t have been more understanding, which just made me feel worse for keeping Jodi and Steven’s plans a secret from him. I couldn’t get Steven and Jodi to summon both of us, so if I told him I might be sucked out of this universe at any minute, totally and completely abandoning him on our quest, what good would that do? While I waited for my own rescue, I could continue to help Jacob reach the edge of the Outlands. If we reached it before Jodi and Steven invoked me, maybe I could help Jacob escape. It was worth trying, at the very least.

  Besides, what else was I going to do while I waited? Sit in a tree, trying to avoid the cat monsters, carnivorous birds, and whatever other nightmares lived in this world? Searching for the edge passed the time and gave Jacob a purpose. But as Balor loped alongside me, occasionally turning his silly dog grin up to me with his red tongue lolling out, part of me didn’t want to be rescued. The idea of leaving my new friends behind in this unchanging, unforgiving world made me feel lower than scum.

  We didn’t ride nearly as long as we usually did that night, day, whatever it was. Jacob slowed Angus to a trot, l
etting Fearghus catch up so that we could talk as the horses walked side by side.

  “You know, I didn’t sleep well either. Mind if we break early?” Jacob asked.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head, “not at all. This is as good a place as any.”

  We had come down out of the trees and continued following the river again when the cat monsters didn’t make another appearance. We both carried our weapons though, ready for an attack. I was so glad Fearghus seemed more cognizant than horses from my reality because managing the reins in one hand and the small crossbow in the other wasn’t easy, but Fearghus didn’t need much guiding. Since he seemed to understand me when I talked, I really just had to tell him where I wanted him to go instead of yanking and pulling on the reins. The reins just gave me something to hold on to and some illusion of safety from falling.

  Jacob dismounted and started clearing an area for us to build a fire and sleep while I turned Fearghus into the trees to do a circuit of the area around us, looking for any threats. By the time I made it back to Jacob, as confident as I could be that this was a safe enough place to rest, he already had the wood and stones assembled for the fire.

  “’Fraid all we have for supper is some of those root vegetables, and not much of those left since we’ve been sharing with the animals,” Jacob said when he sat up from the fire, clapping his hands to dust them off.

  Balor whined next to me, turning his head in my direction, his eyebrows almost as high as his pointy ears. I smiled down at him before I swung my leg over and jumped down from the saddle. I stumbled momentarily, taking a few steps to right myself. Sometimes I forgot just how tall Fearghus was after riding him for hours.

  “Don’t mind him, Balor,” I said, scratching the top of his head between his ears. “I don’t begrudge sharing with you.” Balor leaned into my hand, his red eyes drifting closed for a moment before he turned his head in Jacob’s direction and huffed.

  “I keep forgetting the damn thing can understand me,” Jacob muttered, making Balor growl low in his throat.

  “The ‘damn thing’s’ name is Balor,” I said, earning a quick lick on my hand from the dog.

  “Right.” Jacob had the decency to look slightly abashed. “Sorry,” he added, nodding to Balor. I almost expected Balor to respond, but instead he turned his back on Jacob, flicking his white tail in the air before he bounded off into the trees.

  “Good job,” I said, but my voice didn’t hold much anger. Having animals that understood us was a little weird.

  “I really didn’t mean anything,” Jacob said, staring off in the direction Balor had disappeared.

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” I said. “He’s probably just hunting or something. He doesn’t get to do that much since he’s riding with us.”

  I grabbed the two cups we used for drinking and went to the river to fill them. I figured we could make a thin soup out of the remaining vegetables and hoped the water would help fill our bellies. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes before Balor bounded back through the woods, bursting upon us with two small, dead animals hanging limp in his mouth. He skidded to a halt at my feet and spit them out in front of me, looking up like he’d given me the world’s greatest present. I held back a grimace and managed to smile down at him, scratching his snout.

  “Good job, Balor! Thank you.”

  “I can take care of those,” Jacob said as he bent over to scoop up the limp forms. They looked a lot like rabbits.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, turning away from the sight. If I’d been on my own, I’d like to think that I could’ve forced myself to clean and butcher animals. But I wasn’t alone; I didn’t have to do this one unpleasant thing, so I wasn’t going to. If Jacob wanted to do it, then that was fine by me.

  Though Jacob claimed to be tired, it felt like he took hours to finally settle down. I could feel the swirled metal handle of the looking glass pressing into my leg. I don’t know why I hid it. Jacob knew I had it and he knew I was trying to get home, but something in me kept me from telling him how often I checked the looking glass, watching what my friends were doing, silently cheering them on.

  When I finally heard the soft rumble of Jacob’s measured breathing over the crackle of the fire, I knew he was asleep. I pulled the looking glass out fast enough to cut a line in the dirt with the edge of the black glass. I froze for a second, terrified I had broken it, but when I wiped the looking glass with the edge of Jacob’s jacket, I was relieved to see it still intact.

  I thought about moving off to hide, but the fire was so pleasant and Balor curled around me was comforting, and I didn’t really want to leave either. I glanced at Jacob again, making a few soft noises to see if he would respond. When he remained still and his breathing even, I felt comfortable enough to return my attention to the looking glass.

  I held the image of Jodi and Steven in my mind, hoping to find them with Deb and her coven. When the black glass became smoky and the vague shapes began to coalesce, my stomach flipped and my palms became sweaty. Tonight could be the night I finally left this godforsaken place.

  Chapter 14

  Steven and Jodi sat in Jane’s kitchen at the rectangle table that was big enough to sit ten. The moment I had set foot in Jane’s kitchen, I felt a stab of envy like no other. The kitchen was large enough not only to have that beautiful piece of dark, distressed wood, but also an island with a second stovetop and sink and still leave plenty of room for eleven witches, two teenagers, and one little girl to convene comfortably.

  Jane and Sherry were between the island and the counter, pulling cookies out of the oven and arranging them on platters. Like the rest of the witches in the room, they were dressed in dark, somber clothing, mourning the recent loss of one of their twelve.

  Trisity, Jane’s little girl, sat on one of the high stools at the island, munching on a small pile of cookies, warm chocolate smeared on her cheek and crumbs on the bib of her overalls.

  Surprisingly, Deb wasn’t sitting next to Steven and Jodi; she was at the table, but at the other end and on the opposite side. Her brow was furrowed and her mouth pinched, and every once in a while, she glanced at Steven and Jodi. I don’t think I had ever seen her look so uncomfortable.

  “Trisity, one more and then it’s time for bed,” Jane said as she pulled her oven mitts off, tossing them on the counter.

  “But, mom!” Trisity whined long and high pitched. “I wanna stay for the vote.”

  “No.” Jane’s voice brooked no arguments. “You are too young, and it’s already past your bedtime.”

  “But,” Trisity started again.

  Jane cut her off, saying, “One more word, Trisity Leanne, and I won’t let you finish that cookie. Do you understand me?” I saw the familiar look of confusion on Trisity’s face. Her mother had warned her from saying one more word but then asked her a question that she knew she had to answer. Finally she nodded solemnly, answering without saying a word. She shoved the last half of the cookie into her mouth as if afraid her mother would snatch it away, making it very difficult to chew with her mouth closed. Sherry snickered and turned around quickly, trying to hide it. Jane threw her hands up into the air and shook her head before she walked around the island to pick Trisity up and carry her from the kitchen.

  She returned a few minutes later, accepting a cup of tea from her sister. When Deb glanced at her and confirmed that Trisity was tucked away into bed, Deb nodded briefly and stood, causing all conversations to die out almost immediately.

  “Merry met, ladies,” Deb said, effectively calling the meeting to order. “Tonight we gather, rather informally, to discuss a request that has been brought to us by Jodi and Steven.” Deb nodded in their direction. Steven held his hand up in an awkward wave with an equally awkward half-smile, but Jodi sat as still as a statue, her eyes riveted on Deb.

  “We are all very painfully aware about the loss of Shayna.” Deb paused as murmurs filtered through the gathered women, some nodding, other staring into their cups. “It seems
that Shayna’s spirit may not have gone on to the next life.”

  “How do you know that?” one woman, who’s name I never caught, asked.

  “Steven claims that Shayna was haunting him,” Deb said. Her choice of words made Steven’s head snap up, his eyebrows climbing his forehead.

  “I don’t claim it,” he said, barely holding his tone in check. “I know it.”

  “Of course.” Deb’s tone made it sound as though she was only placating him. “At any rate, before Steven knew who or what was haunting him, he banished the entity. Now Steven and Jodi have come to ask us to help them perform an invocation of the Spirit. Of Shayna’s spirit.”

  Only Jane and Sherry didn’t have a vocal reaction; there were gasps of shock and outrage, murmurs of understanding, and one woman even let out a surprised laugh. Steven’s lips pressed together in a tight line, stealing the red of their curves and turning white as he glared around the room.

  “I don’t understand,” another woman said. “Why do they need our help? Isn’t that something they should be able to do on their own?”

  “It seems, since we lost Shayna, they have lost much of their natural abilities,” Deb explained. Steven dropped his eyes, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, but Jodi kept her chin up and her steely blue eyes on Deb.

  “If the Mother has willed it so that they should lose their powers, who are we to work against her?” one witch said. Others made comments about the sad loss of such great talents, but many just stood back and listened silently.

  “So, basically, what you’re asking is for us to bring your friend back?” Jessica, the mistrustful one from so many months ago, asked and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Steven cried, “Your friend? Your friend? Like you don’t know her? Her name is Shayna, if you’ve forgotten.”

  “No one has forgotten,” Deb said, trying to soothe him.

  “Obviously you have,” he snapped back, lifting halfway out of his seat. “Listen to you, talking like you don’t even know us or give a damn that Shayna’s gone! I thought you would want to help us, Deb! What the hell is the matter with all of you?” Tears sprung to his eyes, as they always did when he became that angry. Jodi lifted a hand and placed it on his shoulder, guiding him back into his seat and leaving her hand there in a show of solidarity.