by Wendy Wang
Dust and the scent of death lingered in the air. No one had breathed in here for a very long time. A shiver traveled up her arms, settling in her shoulders, and finally her teeth chattered. Tom held firm to her hand and she relished its warmth.
“Ben Azrael,” a woman’s whisper resounded throughout the crypt. “You do not belong here. This is not your home.”
“No bat Azrael, it's not,” Tom said. “I’ve only come to help my friends. Show yourself so that we may speak frankly.”
“Why do you dress in this human face?”
“It helps in my line of work,” Tom said, making no apologies.
“Since when does gathering the dead need a mask?”
“Since I discovered that human spirits are more likely to come to this face, than to yours.”
A hissing sound that digressed into a growl scraped along Jen’s bones and made her body tremble. She was certain that sound would follow her into her dreams for the rest of her life.
“Show yourself,” Tom said firmly.
From the dark corners of the crypt, a shadow slid between the three sets of coffins that lay stacked up on each other lining the east and west walls. The reaper rose up, wearing black robes. The curve of her body left no doubt that she was female. Her face remained in shadow and darkness, featureless except for her eyes. They glittered like bright aquamarines, hard and icy cold.
“What is it you seek, ben Azrael?” Her voice sounded stronger but gravelly.
“I need to know about the magic surrounding the land the humans call Devil’s Snare.”
The reaper moved closer and faster than any creature Jen had ever encountered. Jen felt the reaper’s warm breath on her face. The sickly-sweet scent of mums, roses and white orchids coated the back of Jen’s throat, making her want to gag. Flowers of Death. Underneath the strong aroma was a subtler smell: rot. Like meat left in the sun for too long. Jen’s stomach twisted and she covered her mouth.
“Why don’t you ask the little witch?” The reaper pushed in closer, and Jen looked anywhere she could but directly into the reaper’s face. She completely understood now why Charlie had panicked the first night that Tom appeared and touched her face. It was terrifying to be in the presence of death.
“How would she know?” Tom asked, his tone wary.
“It was one of her kind who conjured it.”
“A witch?” Jen asked softly.
“Yes.” The reaper drew out the word, becoming a hiss. “Can you not sense her, as I sense ben Azrael?”
“No,” Jen said. “It doesn’t work quite that way with us. We have a book but it’s not very specific about her magic.”
“You are a white witch,” the reaper said. “She is made of darkness.”
“There is another witch,” Tom said. “Her cousin. We believe she may be lost in the forest behind the boundary.”
“Then she is lost forever.” The reaper moved in front of Tom. He did not hesitate to look her in the eye or shrink away from her in any way. “My condolences.”
A pebble formed in Jen’s throat. She swallowed hard. “Is my cousin in your book?”
“What is her name?” The reaper asked, never taking her eyes off of Tom.
“Charlotte Payne,” Jen said.
The reaper grew still for a moment. Even her robes, which seemed to be caught in a perpetual breeze, stopped moving. Finally she stirred again. “No. Her name is not there.”
“Then she’s alive, right?”
“There is no way to know for sure.”
“Why not? Surely, you would sense her death, even if you can’t retrieve her soul,” Tom said.
“No, her spell leaves me blind. In nearly three hundred years no soul has escaped.”
“What does she do with them?” Tom asked.
“The humans believe she has made a deal with Lucifer.”
“As in the devil?” Jen asked. “That Lucifer?”
“There's really very little difference between devils and angels,” the reaper said. “Those are human words. Lucifer was once the most loved of us all. But then he grew jealous and prideful. So, God banished him. But I'm sure you know that story.”
“Yes,” Jen said.
“Did she make a deal with Lucifer?” Tom asked.
The reaper laughed and the sound of it skittered across Jen’s skin like tiny electrical charges, causing her arms to twitch. “Lucifer likes the humans. Likes to put on human faces, too.”
“Answer the question bat Azrael.” Irritation edged into Tom’s voice.
“I am not privy to any such deal.”
“How do I get into the forest?” Tom asked.
“You do not. I have never been able to cross the barrier. Only the humans can cross, and they never come out.”
“How is she so powerful?” Tom asked.
“I do not know. I only know that if I lose a soul to those woods, I will never have a chance to collect it and take it to its rightful place.”
“That must be very frustrating,” Tom said.
She gestured and shrugged her shoulders, which surprised Jen. It was such a human move.
“If a witch goes in to the territory of this other witch,” Jen piped up. “What happens?”
“I do not know,” the reaper said. “Perhaps you should ask the local high priestess.”
“So there is a coven?” Jen said.
“Yes,” the reaper said. “Just beware little witch. Even as a magic wielder, you may not be protected from her.”
“That’s fine. She’s not protected, either,” Jen countered.
The reaper cackled, and Jen thought her ears might start bleeding from the horrible sound. “Indeed, little witch. Indeed.”
“Thank you, bat Azrael,” Tom said. “This has been very informative.”
“Do not think of making this your home, ben Azrael. You will not like the outcome.”
“I wouldn’t dream of overstaying my welcome.” Tom smiled at her.
“See to it that you don’t.” The reaper turned and disappeared into the shadows. Jen shivered, this time uncontrollably, and Tom led her out of the crypt, back into the light.
Charlie walked along the riverbank scanning the other side for any sign of her cousins. A long burning ring shot forward and when she first saw the flames, she thought the trees might be on fire. Once she realized what was happening, she picked up her pace, her slow walk turning into a limping jog. Her cousin had cast a locator spell. Her heart soared. They were looking for her.
She'd studied the spell a few months back but had never seen one done. It had seemed too advanced to her, but Lisa was a master at using the spell. She must be nearby. Finally, she spotted Daphne and Lisa on the other side of the bank.
“Daphne! Lisa!” Charlie waved her arms wildly. “I'm over here. Charlie stopped across the river and stared at her younger cousins. The fire, which spun in a long cylinder, hovered above the river. It stopped suddenly, almost directly in front of Charlie, and she moved closer to the river’s edge. The flaming cylinder trembled before finally rearing up and plunging into the water. It disappeared in a loud hiss that sent a chill skittering over Charlie’s skin.
Daphne stood almost directly across from her now. Charlie waved her arms. “Daphne,” she called, but her cousin didn’t look in her direction. Instead, Daphne waded into the water. “No! Stop. I'll come to you!” Charlie yelled.
Charlie scanned the water. The current swirled in the center, moving swiftly toward the falls downstream. Charlie’s stomach dropped to the pit of her belly, and she trembled, unsure she could go back into that cold water. Daphne stopped when the river was up to her knees. She pushed the sleeve of her jacket up, bent over and plunged her arm into the frigid water. Charlie watched her with curiosity. When Daphne stood back up she held something small and silver in her hands. Charlie's hand floated to her neck, instinctively searching for her missing necklace. Daphne held it up so Lisa could see and the silver glinted in the light.
“Daphne!” Charlie scream
ed.
Daphne looked across the water, as if she’d finally heard something. She seemed to scan the bank but then turned and headed back to shore, back to Lisa. A few moments later she handed the necklace to Lisa.
Charlie’s mind raced. Why didn’t Daphne hear her? Or see her? Charlie scanned her side of the riverbank. Her gaze settled on a large granite boulder perched on the edge of the river. She ran toward it, the pain in her body a distant thrum. When she reached it she climbed on top, waved her arms and screamed her cousins’ names again. Daphne pivoted, facing the river again. She put her arm around Lisa’s shoulders and they stared directly out across the river.
Why didn’t they see her? Charlie closed her eyes. She didn't relish the thought of going back into that frigid water but she had no choice. She would rather drown than stay on this side.
“Conduit,” the girl’s high-pitched voice came from behind her. Charlie turned her head and the dead girl stood on the rock next to her. Charlie’s heart clogged her throat and she took a step away.
“You stay away from me,” Charlie said, holding up a finger in warning.
“Conduit, you must come with me. It’s time.”
“Stop calling me that,” Charlie said in her sternest voice. She turned and looked at her cousins. They were talking quietly. What were they saying to each other?
“I’m here!” she screamed again, frantically waving her arms.
Lisa started to turn, heading back to the trail.
“Don't go!” Tears hot and fierce burned Charlie’s cheeks. Her cousins were leaving her. She glanced at the spirit and then back to the river before her. She took a deep breath, held it, and jumped.
Her skin twitched, anticipating the cold needles of the frigid water. But that sensation never came. Instead a sharp pain in her breastbone and the feeling of sailing backward filled her senses. She landed hard on her back and it forced the breath she held in her lungs to leave her. Charlie lay against the riverbank gasping, trying to catch her breath. The spirit appeared and bent over her. She stared into Charlie’s face with black eyes.
“You cannot leave, Conduit. This is your home now.”
“No,” Charlie said between deep gulping breaths. “No.” Charlie jumped to her feet and tried once again to dive into the river. Within a moment, she landed on the riverbank again. She stared into the pale face of the spirit.
“You must accept your fate. You belong with us now.”
“No,” Charlie said through gritted teeth. She pushed to her feet again and hopped up on top of the rock. “Lisa! Lisa! I'm over here!”
Lisa stopped at the trail head and turned around, scanning the riverbank. Charlie's heart leapt. Finally, she'd heard her. Charlie waved her arms again and called her cousin's name. She watched as Daphne hooked her arm with Lisa's and they both headed toward the cabin. Panic squeezed Charlie's heart.
“Why can't they hear me?” Charlie turned to the spirit. “What did you do?”
“Why do you think?” the girl said.
“You’ve done something to these woods.”
The spirit laughed. The high tittering sound sparked across Charlie’s nerves like little electrical charges, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. “They can't see you because you are like me.”
Charlie’s ears began to ring and her stomach twisted so tightly she thought she might retch up the rabbit she’d eaten for breakfast. She stared at the girl, breathing harder. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Conduit. You died in that river. Just like I did. The sooner you accept it, the easier things will be for you here.”
“Shut. Up.” Charlie said. Fear and anger swirled in her chest, bubbling and boiling, intermingling.
“There is no fighting it. There is no fighting the mistress.
“I am not dead.” Charlie’s voice wavered and doubt crept into her head. “This is all just a dream. A really horrible dream.” She shut her eyes tight and when she opened them again, the spirit was beside her.
“You know it's true. In your heart of hearts. No one could have survived that river.”
“Is Daniel? Is he dead, too?”
The spirit stared at her with unblinking eyes. She didn't answer the question.
Charlie thought back over the last twenty-four hours. Everything felt so real. She didn’t feel dead. But then again, how many of the spirits she had encountered admitted they were dead?
The spirit held her hand out. “Come with me, Conduit. It's time for you to meet our mistress.”
“And if I say no?” Charlie said.
“There is no saying no.”
“You're gonna have to drag me, kicking and screaming.” Charlie folded her arms across her chest defiantly. The spirit disappeared, and Charlie quickly glanced around trying to look everywhere at once. Something cold brushed across the back of her neck and slowly she turned her head to see the spirit’s palm hovering in front of her face. The girl touched the heel of her hand to Charlie’s forehead and before Charlie could protest or strike it away, everything went black.
Chapter 17
Jason waited in the truck as Evangeline ran into the post office to make copies of a flyer about Charlie. She returned carrying a ream of copies in one arm. She started up the old truck, and Jason held onto the safety bar as she pulled into traffic. She drove to the second stoplight and turned sharply into the parking lot for the Brynn Falls gem shop. Evangeline cut the engine to the truck and left one hand on the steering wheel. She stared at the entrance of the building.
“You okay, Miss Evangeline?” Jason asked.
“I'm fine, honey,” she said softly. “I just don’t have a good feeling about this place.”
“Bad juju?” Jason asked.
“Something like that.” Evangeline reached for her purse by Jason's feet. He wiped his palms on the top of his thighs.
“So, how do you want to play this?”
Evangeline flashed him a curious smile. “I'm not sure what you mean, honey.”
“I mean for this interrogation. You want to play good witch/bad witch?”
Evangeline laughed. “Why would we do that?”
Jason shrugged one shoulder. “To get information.”
“I see. Well which one are you?”
“I. Uh . . . I guess I’d play the good witch, since you're the one with the actual magic mojo.”
Evangeline rolled her eyes and patted the top of his hand. “Well, here’s the thing, honey, they’ve got a magic mojo, too.”
Jason pursed his lips. “Oh.”
“You're funny. I can see why Charlie likes working with you,” she said.
He gave her a bemused look. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” she said.
“Do all witches have a lie detector in their head like you and Charlie do?”
Evangeline shifted her gaze to his face. Her sharp blue eyes glittered. “Well, truly it comes down to what a witch seeks.”
“What do you mean?” Jason said.
“Our coven seeks truth. Which is why lies are so easily revealed to us. But some witches like to seek knowledge. Some seek beauty. Some witches seek to do good in the world. Some seek to be one with nature.”
“Do all witches seek something good?”
“Oh, sweetie, no. I wish that were the case. There are many things that can be hidden in the heart of a witch. Including darkness.”
Jason paused a moment and thought and considered her words. He let his gaze drift back to the building. “Is that what you see here? Darkness?”
Evangeline gazed up at the building. Her hand tightened around her purse straps. “I can see energy, like Daphne does. Auras, I suppose. There is something dark trying to find a way into that building but there’s something blocking it. A protection spell, I suspect, or maybe talismans. Whatever it is, it also keeps the energy inside of the building from flowing out. There is a natural ebb and flow to all energy, good and bad. When someone closes off that
flow it can cause a sort of stagnation. That obstruction makes it harder to clear out the bad energy.”
“So everything has this aura?”
“Most things, yes.”
“Do I have one?” he asked sheepishly.
“Oh, yes.” She smiled widely. “You have a wonderful aura.”
Jason sighed and smiled. “Do you think we’ll get some answers in there?”
“I don't know, honey. I think that we will seek the truth and if there are lies, they will reveal themselves.” She grabbed a stack of flyers and pushed her purse straps onto her shoulder. “Now come on. I'm anxious to get back and find out what happened with Lisa and Daphne.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Jason said.
A tiny bell tinkled above their heads as they entered the shop. Jason walked inside with his mouth agape. There were hundreds of bins, all filled with different types of stones and gems lining the walls of the large shop. A large display of different colored polished quartz competed with a display of amethyst geodes in the center of the shop.
Several hand-lettered signs hung on the wall. One offered a day trip to the gem mine where for $45 someone could dig for their own gems. Another sign offered customers the chance to buy different sized buckets of dirt. The buckets ranged anywhere from $25 to $200, and the sign promised gems in every bucket. Jason shook his head. What a scam.
Evangeline walked past the displays and the bins to the counter at the back of the store. The glass-front case displayed fine cut gems and different jewelry in gold and silver settings. An old-fashioned cash register sat on one end of the counter with a credit card machine next to it.
Evangeline dinged the bell, and Jason sidled up next to her, watching and waiting to take his cues. He kind of wanted to play good witch/bad witch just to see what would happen.
“Coming,” a female voice called from the back room. A woman in her mid-forties emerged through a curtain wearing a long black lace tunic over a long black skirt. Her hair had been dyed jet black, but her roots were growing out in a silver line down the center of her head. She wore thick dark eye liner and what looked like a pound of mascara. Jason had no idea how she kept her eyes open with all that weight on her eye lashes.