When the Spirit Calls (When the Spirit... series - Book 2)

by Thomas DePrima

  Madam Elana's van emerged first from beneath the dense tree cover and moved into a large open area that had always been used as a parking area by the coven. She pulled into her customary parking spot, the front of her van just feet from the edge of a deep ravine that blocked further vehicular travel. One by one, the other drivers arrayed their automobiles along the ravine, killed their headlamps and cut their ignitions. When silence had again returned to the parking area, the sounds of gurgling water issuing from the gloom of the steep depression in front of them floated gently in the air, but the sound was immediately lost again as the cars emptied quickly and people began performing required tasks.

  A crude wooden bridge, just wide enough for a single person to cross, permitted the only easy access to the grassy hillock beyond. It was there that the coven had always performed their rituals. A glowing, battery-powered lantern was hung on a pole at either end of the bridge as the group crossed in single file and climbed a gentle slope to where a large fire ring of flat rocks circled the charred remnants of numerous past bonfires.

  One of the women immediately began preparing the fire pit for a new bonfire by raking away the charred wood of a previous blaze. Arriving coven members dropped small logs outside the fire pit where they would stay until kindling could be coaxed into blazing glory.

  As wads of newspaper were ignited and then covered with wood shavings and sticks, small tongues of flame licked greedily at the fresh materials. Spilt-log sections and finally entire log sections were added to the growing blaze. The fire seemed to leap with joy as new material ignited. Tiny glowing embers rose upwards, carried on wind currents created by the blaze until they winked out a dozen feet above the flames. Coven members made repeated trips to the Lake Georgina Antiques van and their own vehicles, each time returning with an armload of firewood. When they had completed their trips, a substantial pile stood ready outside the fire pit.

  On one side of the large open area, the forest was populated with charred trees. "What happened here?" Arlene asked Madame Elana.

  "We had a very dry summer several years ago and an electrical storm set the nearby woods on fire. The fire crews managed to put it out, but not before it destroyed a few hundred acres of trees. The grass here was also charred, but it's come back already."

  "Oh, I wondered if a bonfire had gotten out of control."

  "No, nothing like that. We weren't even up here that week."

  "At least we have good weather tonight."

  "It's just like the night Simona tried to banish Kamet," Madam Elana said to Arlene as they stood in a flat area a dozen paces from the fire pit. "There was a quarter moon that night also."

  "Let's hope we're more successful tonight," Erin said as the coven began to assemble around them.

  "I sense a presence," Arlene said, "but the spirit is trying to mask itself."

  "Kamet?" Madam Elana asked, her apprehension evident.

  "I don't know," Arlene said calmly. Raising her voice, she said, "Spirit, I sense your presence. You know you cannot hide completely from me. Show yourself."

  Everyone in the clearing had stopped moving and was staring either at Arlene or into the darkness surrounding the area.

  "The spirit has revealed itself," Arlene said a few seconds later. "It's only Simona. Simona, will you speak with me now?"

  A few more seconds passed before Arlene said to the assemblage, "She says she is here only to observe," Arlene said. "She will not yet break her silence."

  "Will she help us?" Madam Elana asked.

  "She has little power while she's on this plane of existence," Arlene said. "Kinetic activity drains spirits quickly. They have to be careful how they interact with us. She has already used some of her energy just trying to hide from me."

  "Perhaps we should start then," Madam Elana said.

  "Yes, it's time," Arlene said.

  The Lake Georgina coven had made a decision many years ago to use white robes during all Wiccan activities. Practitioners of the black arts typically used black robes during their activities, so the coven felt white robes were more appropriate for their pagan activities. The summer robes and hoods were made from a lightweight linen material suitable for very warm evenings. As temporary members of the coven, Occulara, Megan, Erin, Renee, Bishop Flaherty, Father Paul, and Father Fredrick were all required to wear white robes as well. The priests were quite used to wearing vestments similar to the robes and didn't protest. The only exception, until now, had been Madam Elana. As the leader of the coven, she always wore a white chiffon gown without a hood. On this occasion, Arlene was considered the leader, so she was dressed in the white chiffon gown while Madam Elana wore a standard hooded robe. It had always been Madam Elana's practice to wear an antique silver Celtic Circlet headpiece in the past, and she had lent it to Madam Arlene on this occasion.

  The orange glow from the fire and the pale light from a quarter moon was the only illumination on the grassy knoll as Arlene walked to the center, stopped, and turned to face Father Paul. The parish priest halted several feet away. The coven, along with Oculara, Megan, Erin, Renee, Bishop Flaherty, and Father Fredrik, then moved to encircle them, forming a human chain as each held hands with the individual on either side.

  Closing her eyes, Arlene raised her hands chest high, palms facing upwards one hand atop the other, and began to chant the millennia-old spell. After the third recitation, she halted briefly to refocus her mind, stretching out with her paranormal powers to contact the spirits of the immortal world. When she resumed the chant, a faint white glow suddenly appeared just above her cupped hands. With each syllable she uttered, the hovering light expanded and shone ever brighter, first encasing her hands, then her entire arms, and finally her complete form. The assembled group was mesmerized as Arlene seemed to dissolve into light so blindingly intense they were forced to either close their eyes or look away.

  The flames of the fire, until then greedily consuming the small pile of logs stacked in the fire pit, appeared to cease all motion. Orange tongues of flame several feet high froze as they were and the few small clouds in the sky ceased all movement. Nary a cricket chirped or leaf rustled in the surrounding woods. Time outside the circle appeared to have stopped as darkness expanded outward from the hillock.

  *

  The tranquility on the low knoll ended suddenly when a police vehicle, with lights flashing and siren whooping, suddenly roared into the parking area where the woods stopped. The bonfire again began to burn, crickets chirped, and the tiny puffs of clouds marched slowly across the sky. Time had restarted without any indication of how long it might have stood still, but Arlene hadn't allowed herself to be distracted. She had continued to repeat the chant from within the glow that surrounded her but that hadn't restricted her vision as it had the others in the ring.

  A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness of the parking area, raced across the narrow bridge in several bounding leaps, and sped up the low hill. Detective Lieutenant Richard Bolger, intent on breaking through by brute force, hurled himself at the human ring. The bright aura that surrounded him was only visible to Arlene. She knew Kamet had arrived.

  As the physical form of Richard Bolger encountered the circle, it was stopped as suddenly and violently as if he had run against a granite structure. The women with whom he appeared to have made contact never shifted in the slightest. The ring remained intact as Arlene began to recite the chant louder now and Kamet's rage grew with every syllable she uttered.

  Bolger's body hurled against the coven ring time and again at different points as he probed for an opening, eventually collapsing to the ground in weariness when he failed to dislodge, even slightly, a single member of the ring. As he lay there, Arlene saw the aura that had surrounded Bolger since his arrival rise up from his prone body and move away, then descend toward the coven members in the ring.

  Madam Elana suddenly screamed, released the hands of the coven members on either side of her, and raced towards Arlene. Prepared for this development, Father P
aul quickly moved to fill the vacant space, joining hands with coven members on either side to complete the circle once again. As Madam Elana began to glow with the aura of Kamet, she stretched out her arms, her fingers grasping for Arlene's throat.

  Arlene managed to grab one of Madam Elana's wrists before it reached her throat and twist the other from her neck after it made contact. She pushed Madam Elana back slightly and began to chant even louder and stronger as she fought to protect herself from the grasping fingers. The glow that had surrounded her body, and which had ceased expanding, again began to intensify. A similar glow immediately encapsulated Madam Elana.

  As the two women struggled and Arlene continued to recite the chant over and over, the glow of each body grew until night seemed to turn to day on the knoll. But neither seemed able to gain an advantage as they struggled.

  As the battle between good and evil continued, Arlene could feel herself tiring. She realized that Kamet was now the stronger of the two. He had been able to combine his own energy with the energy of Madam Elana's body, and to Arlene it felt as if she were fighting two people rather than one. With each passing second she felt her strength ebbing. The light that emanated from their bodies and surrounded them continued to grow in intensity until Arlene could barely see her adversary. Then suddenly, Arlene felt new strength coursing through her body.

  The brightness emanating from Arlene alone had been too much for the coven and other members of the ring. All had either been forced to close their eyes or look away, but none let their grasp on the person next to them relax out of fear the exorcism might fail should the ring be broken.

  Suddenly, the hillock was cloaked in complete darkness. It was as if all the lights in the universe had suddenly winked out. Arlene perceived no internal glow, no radiance from the campfire, and no luminosity from the sky where the moon had been visible seconds before. She could no longer feel her arms or legs and seemed to be floating, adrift in a sea of black water. It was like the feeling she'd experienced when her soul had been transported back through time and placed into the body of another. She realized this was the end of her mortal life, and she prayed her strength had lasted long enough to defeat Kamet. The loss of her mortal existence was a small sacrifice if it meant he had finally been banished back to the Underworld.

  Slowly, the limited light from a quarter moon and the dying embers of the campfire that illuminated the grassy field and the face of the surrounding woods again registered in her mind. She experienced a sensation of falling in spite of willing her muscles to hold her erect, but they refused all commands and she landed on the grass. Strangely, she felt no sensation from the impact. The sounds of shouting people then began to reach her ears and grow in intensity as dark shapes seemed to hover above her, again blocking out all light. She remembered nothing after that until she awoke in a strange place.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As Arlene opened her eyes, she saw bright sunshine and clear azure skies. Birds chirped cheerfully nearby and the delightful fragrance of wildflowers floated lightly in the air. She discovered she was lying on a soft bedding of fur pelts, and from where she lay she could hear the sound of rushing water. A piece of multicolored, homespun fabric supported by four poles rippled softly overhead in the slight breeze while it acted to shade her from the hot sun.

  As idyllic as the setting might be, Arlene knew it was wrong. She had just been in a field outside of Lake Georgina, and it had been the middle of the night. She had to discover what had happened, but as she sat up, she immediately groaned. Her discomfort wasn't the result of muscle pain but rather a severe pain in her scalp. As she moved, long strands of straight black hair fell to cover her shoulders and partially obscure her face. The pain had come from having hair caught beneath her prone body.

  "Oh no, not again," Arlene moaned as she pulled at the hair to make sure it really grew from her head.

  Some sort of animal skin covered her body but left her arms and much of her legs exposed. She saw that her skin color was a deep bronze, shades deeper than it should have been, and even darker than when she had spent the entire summer at the beach during her high school years. From where she was sitting, she could see a swiftly moving river, perhaps a hundred feet across, coursing not more than a stone's throw away. There was no such river within a hundred miles of Lake Georgina.

  "I'm certainly not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy," she said aloud as she breathed in the pure air of a much earlier time. "The question is: where the heck am I?"

  "You are home again, sister," she heard.

  Startled by the voice, Arlene spun on the bedding as an attractive young woman of perhaps eighteen approached. Standing about five feet, two inches, the maiden was no taller than her own new body. The unfamiliar sylph's skin color was as dark as her own, and her black hair hung long and straight. As Arlene jumped to her feet, the aroma of powerful spices reached her nostrils. A small mist of steam rose from an uncovered bowl, which the other woman carried.

  "I made some soup," the woman said. "I thought you might be hungry when you awakened."

  "I— feel fine actually."

  "I know it's silly to pretend to prepare food and eat, but I still follow the old ways."

  "Pretend?"

  "You don't know, do you?"

  "Know? Know what?"

  "Where you are. Who you are. Who I am."

  "Um, I'm feeling a little disoriented."

  "I thought that might be the case. This is the first time you've ever returned home this way."

  "Home? This way?"

  The young woman laughed lightly. "I'm sorry, Lisara. I realize you're a bit bewildered right now, and I shouldn't laugh. I'm just so delighted to have you with me again." The young woman set the bowl down on the ground. "Perhaps this will make you feel more comfortable."

  As the woman waved her arms, everything around them instantly changed, and Arlene felt the constriction of extremely tight clothing. Glancing down, she discovered she was now wearing a gown from the late nineteenth century instead of the comfortable skins she had worn a second earlier. The young woman in front of her was now similarly clad in a wasp-waisted gown with a tight bodice, wide skirt, and puffy bustle.

  "I'm home," Arlene said, as she looked around. They were standing in the music room of Westfield Manor as it had appeared in 1883. Arlene moved to a wall-mounted mirror and saw that the reflected image was that of a very young Amelia Westfield. She hadn't worn a corset in many years, and she tried to shift it slightly as she said, "I wouldn't exactly say I'm more comfortable though."

  The other young woman, whose skin color was now paler than pale, giggled and waved her arms again. They were still in the music room, but they were now dressed in twenty-first century clothing. Arlene was wearing comfortable shorts and a tee shirt, while the woman with her was wearing a light cotton shift. When Arlene glanced into the mirror, she saw that she looked like Arlene Watson again, and there were slight but unmistakable signs— if one knew where to look— that the mansion was in its post-reconstruction period.

  "I never did understand why you liked that period so much," the woman said. "The clothing was absolutely dreadful."

  "My joy came from my husband and children. Um, am I dreaming?" Arlene asked.

  "No. You are beyond dreams at present."

  "Did I die?"

  "Many, many times, my sister— so many that if we didn't remember every nuance of our existence, I would have lost track centuries ago."

  "Will you please stop talking in riddles and tell me where I am?"

  "You're home, sister. You've crossed over to the immortal world, as you refer to it."

  "Then I did die while fighting Kamet?"

  "No, your present mortal body still breathes. You crossed over without dying this time. It's the first time you've ever managed that. Perhaps it was because you truly believed you were dying and thought only about your immortal life after death."

  "Then this really is the immortal world?"


  "It's not exactly a world— not like Earth is a world. It's more like— a place. Mortals have a great many names for it: Heaven, Nirvana, Paradise, Eden, Shangri-la, Zion, Elysium, Promised Land, Kingdom Come, and many more. But we can call it a world if you like."

  Arlene's head was swimming, but she managed to say, "And you are?"

  "I am Aleela, your sister."

  "My sister?"

  "From your first mortal existence more than eighty Earth centuries ago."

  "Sister as in kindred spirit? Or as in the familial sense?"

  "We sprang from the same womb, and the blood of our mother flowed in both our mortal bodies. You are the older by three years. You were twenty-one when we were killed."

  "Killed?"

  "By the men who attacked and destroyed our village. We hid when we heard the shouting, but three warriors discovered me in the bushes and dragged me out. Two held me down while the third disrobed enough to assault me." With a facial expression filled with love and pride, she added, "Just as he was about to mount me, you burst from the bushes, picked up his spear, and thrust it through his back."

  "I killed him?"

  "He didn't die immediately. In fact, he survived us by a week. When he fell, one of the others let go of my arm. He had almost gotten to his feet when you skewered him through the upper leg with the spear. The other let me go and raced at you. With one blow from his club, he split your head open. I jumped up as he stared at your body and stuck him from behind with the spear he'd dropped as they prepared to violate my body. But I didn't have your strength and only wounded him slightly. He turned and struck me down as well. I fell next to you, and we died together. Two of our attackers survived, but the second one you wounded limped severely for the remainder of his mortal days."

  "Are they here?"

  "Oh no. They were pulled down to the Underworld when they died. Apparently they enjoyed killing, or at least felt no remorse for their victims, rather than killing because they were ordered to or to save the lives of others."