Sisters

by Eliza Nolan

  I pull my shawl closed and hunch over, resigned.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” a smooth and gentle male voice says over the announcement system. “We apologize for the disruption. It was an isolated incident that we have under control. We will now continue with the program.”

  The gawkers return to their seats, leaving me, Jenna, and my parents with the usher in the hallway. In another minute the orchestral music reaches us through the red velvet curtain that leads to our box.

  “Do you want to go back in there and listen while we wait for the medics?” Mom suggests.

  “No.” I vigorously shake my head. I’m pretty sure everyone out there knows where the blood-curdling scream came from. I don’t want to show my face in there again. Ever.

  “Come on, honey,” Mom says. “You wait for this concert all year long.”

  “I can’t do it. I don’t want to ruin it for everyone else.”

  Mom sighs and sits on the floor next to me. She pats my leg. “We can listen to it from right here if you want.”

  I rest my head on her shoulder and stare at the fleur de lis-patterned carpet as the music plays.

  And then wince as my head explodes with the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I curl up in a ball and cover my mouth in an attempt to stifle my scream. “What is this?” I cry.

  Mom and Dad crowd close to me. They’re talking to each other fast in low voices, but I can’t make out words because there’s too much pain. On my head my fingertips slip in a warm liquid. What’s in my hair? I pull away a hand to find it covered in blood.

  I no longer care about muffling my screams. “MOM!” I hold a hand out to her. Warm liquid trickles down my forehead.

  Mom’s not paying attention to me. She’s frantically digging in her purse, Dad watching her.

  I cry out again as once more my body and soul feel like they’re being stretched apart.

  Dad glances at me and grabs Mom’s purse, tearing it open and dumping its contents on the ground. They continue digging through the pile of tissues and pens.

  “Got it!” Mom cries. She fumbles with something and then thrusts it onto one of my fingers.

  I curl backwards in pain as the force pulls me in all directions again.

  “Always wear this ring, honey,” Mom says. “Don’t you dare take it off. Not ever. Dad and I love you.”

  She presses something else, small and cold, into my hand, and I grip it tight in my fist. And then I scream again as my body rips into a million pieces.

  24

  Eva

  Fiona and I hold hands so tightly our fingers might actually die and fall off from loss of blood if we keep it up. But I don’t care, because I’m terrified. We nod at one another and start once more.

  We summon you, Aramadao, by the power of the great Inanna, that you appear before us, in order to answer the questions we ask of you. We conjure you, Aramadao.

  We summon you, Aramadao, by the power of the great Inanna, that you appear before us, in order to answer the questions we ask of you. We conjure you, Aramadao.

  We summon you, Aramadao, by the power of the great Inanna, that you appear before us, in order to answer the questions we ask of you. We conjure you, Aramadao.

  The sweet smell is back, stronger now. The candle flames shoot several feet in the air.

  We conjure you, Aramadao.

  We conjure you, Aramadao.

  We conjure you, Aramadao.

  There’s a short, low rumble followed by a pop, and a form appears in a seated position in the middle of the pentacle. It could be a human, but its back is to us and it’s wrapped up in a blood covered cloth. It quivers and sobs.

  There’s a thud as something drops to the ground next to me. Fiona, her mouth open, has dropped the book on the floor.

  We hug each other closer.

  “What did we do?” I whisper. My whole body shakes.

  The form in front of us cries out in terror-filled sobs. It raises its head, and two coiled horns covered in blood emerge.

  Fiona shrieks and stumbles backwards, away from the being, away from me.

  I’m frozen. Too scared to move.

  “Dear, Lord, what is it?” Fiona shrieks.

  The figure startles and faces us. It wipes long, blood-strewn hair out of its face. The eyes are black as night. The face is feminine under the drying blood. It stops crying and tilts its head inquisitively.

  “Eva?” It’s voice trembles as it says my name. Like it’s scared.

  And then I recognize it. HER.

  “Grace?”

  She’s covered in blood but wears the same long, red dress she wore to the concert earlier tonight. Her white shawl is also soaked in blood.

  And she has horns.

  Horns.

  My legs wobble as I try to reconcile the image of a bloody, dark-eyed, horned demon—with my sister.

  “What the hell is going on, Grace?” I cry. “Why do you have horns?”

  Grace raises two shaking hands up to her head and grabs the horns. One in each hand, as if feeling them for the first time. Then she cries out. Her screams echo through the warehouse.

  “Mom!” she cries. “Dad! Where did you go?” She searches the space in vain. “Eva. Help me,” she whimpers.

  I move to step forwards, but Fiona grabs my leg from where she sits on the floor and holds me back. “No! Eva, you can’t leave the safety of the circle.”

  I glance down. She’s already fallen outside the circle.

  “It’s my sister,” I say.

  “You don’t know that. It could be a demon taking the form of your sister in order to trick you. And besides that, you need to stay in the circle, because I’m out. One of us needs to stay in there in order to dismiss the demon. I can’t. It’s up to you.”

  Grace moves towards me but slams into an invisible barrier. The circle around the summoning pentagram is keeping her in. She’s scared and confused. And is also definitely my sister. She has to be.

  “Where is this?” Grace asks. “What is this?”

  “We’re at a warehouse near Fiona’s house. We found an old book in Dad’s stuff and were using it to summon a demon.”

  “No,” she says and, covered as she is in blood with her eyes darker than night and her horns on top of her head, she still somehow relaxes. “That can’t be it. I’m for sure having another one of my waking dreams.”

  She’s gripping something tightly in one of her fists and opens up her fingers. It’s too small to see, but reminds me of the tiny stone I still clutch in my own hand.

  “Can you figure out a way to let me out of here?” Grace asks. “Like, in case this isn’t a dream.”

  I nod and squat down, picking up the book from the floor. I sit cross-legged in the center of the circle and skim through the pages, in search of an answer. In search of a way out.

  In the circle across from me, the demon who is probably my sister, crouches down in the fetal position once more and rocks on her heels.

  25

  Eva

  I have no idea how long I comb through the book before I hear Mom and Dad shouting outside.

  “Grace?” Mom shouts. “Grace, are you here? According to the dousing crystal she’s close.”

  I turn back to Fiona who’s crawled over to a corner, biting her nails. “Let them in.”

  Grace looks up from her melancholy, her deep black eyes and blood-covered face hopeful.

  Fiona pulls open the door to a snow-covered Dad holding a flashlight and Mom dangling some sort of stone pendant in her hands.

  “Fiona, what are you doing here?” Dad asks.

  But it only takes them a moment of viewing the scene before they practically leap up to the loading dock and rush inside.

  “Eva?” Mom startles. “What are you…? Oh.” Her eyes fall on the book in my hands and then raise to Grace where she sits in the center of a pentagram, illuminated by the surrounding candles.

  “Mom,” she cries.

  “Baby.” Mom reaches
towards her, but stops herself. “I’ll be there soon, sweetie.” Her eyes fall on me. I shrink, waiting for her to bite my head off, but all she says is, “Whatever you do, do not step out of that circle until I tell you to.” Then to Fiona, “Do you have any more chalk and candles?”

  Fiona ruffles through our bags, digging out a piece of chalk and locating two more candles.

  Mom draws out her own safety circle, without even checking the book. How does she know any of this?

  Dad stations himself next to me outside of my circle. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you both out of this.” His eyes are wet with tears. I want to reach across to him and take his hand, but by the way he holds himself, I can tell that, for the moment, I’m meant to stay inside this circle, and he’s meant to stay out.

  “What is this?” I ask Dad while Mom continues detailing a protection circle nearby. “You both always said this stuff wasn’t real. ‘Science can explain everything,’ you said.”

  “We didn’t want you getting into any of this.” He motions across to the pentagram. “We wanted you to be safe. There are things you don’t know.” He turns to Mom, and she nods without stopping.

  “You already know that your mother got a masters in anthropology before she switched to sociology for her doctorate. What you don’t know is that she did her master’s thesis on the occult. By that time we were already married. When we found out we couldn’t have children we tried everything, but nothing worked. One night we’d had way too much to drink, and she suggested we try calling on a fertility deity for help.” Dad sighs. “And we did. What neither of us was prepared for, was that the deity actually came. She said she would give us one of her own unborn children to have as our own. She only demanded that we promise to give her a soul once our child came of age.”

  Mom looks up from her chalking. “What you have to understand is that we’d just gotten back from the doctor’s and learned that our latest attempt had failed. I was desperate.”

  Dad continues, “We were also more than a little drunk. So we took the deal.”

  Mom finishes her circle and tosses the chalk back over to Fiona. Then she lights her candles. “The thing is, we didn’t conceive after that. Not for three more years. And by then, we were almost positive what we’d experienced had been some sort of drunken hallucination. Still, I created that book—” she motions towards the book I hold in my lap “—in case something should happen to me, and you needed to take care of things.”

  Dad finishes the story. “Then we had you, Eva, a second child, and we were quite sure that we didn’t owe anything to the fertility goddess, because the deal we made was for one child, and now we had two. Of course, they’re both ours, and the vitamins we were taking had simply finally worked.”

  “You made a deal with a demon?” I ask. I simply can’t process it. “Why would you do that?”

  Mom meets my accusing glare with teary eyes full of regret. “Because we wanted you.” She wipes her tears away, takes a deep breath, and stands tall.

  “I’m ready,” Mom says.

  She pulls off her coat. She’s still wearing the long blue dress and pumps she wore to the concert. They really must have rushed right here.

  I summon you, Inanna.

  Appear before me, in order to answer the questions I ask of you.

  Her voice shakes with rage and sadness.

  I conjure you, Inanna, by the power of the Mater Daemonium, that you appear before me, in order to answer the questions I ask of you.

  I summon you, Inanna.

  Appear before me, in order to answer the questions I ask of you.

  I conjure you, Inanna, by the power of the Mater Daemonium, that you appear before me, in order to answer the questions I ask of you.

  I summon you, Inanna.

  Appear before me, in order to answer the questions I ask of you.

  I conjure you, Inanna.

  Get out here, you evil wretch!

  Mom’s eyes glisten with angry tears as she cries out the final summons.

  A familiar chuckle fills the warehouse again. It’s followed quickly with the smell of roses, and then a being appears in the summoning circle standing over Grace.

  Grace startles and scampers back, quickly finding herself at the edge of the circle and able to go no farther.

  The being steps closer to Grace.

  I gasp. It’s the woman from my nightmare. The woman who walked me into the room of fire. Was that a dream, or had she visited me in my sleep? Had she been guiding my hand all this time?

  “You’re Inanna?” I point at her accusingly.

  “Hello again, Eva.” The woman with the huge white horns and cloven feet smiles at me. But there’s a twinkle of malice in her blood-red eyes.

  “You don’t talk to her,” Mom barks. “I summoned you. You talk to me and leave my daughters out of this.”

  Inanna laughs again, reaches down to Grace where she cowers at the edge of the summoning circle and pats her on the head, soothingly. She turns to face my mother. “But, my dear, this is all about your daughters. You made the deal, and I’ve come to collect.”

  “You can’t. This isn’t right. Grace was born three years after we summoned you. You can’t take credit for her.” Mom’s face is red with rage, but her eyes are full of fear.

  “Three years is nothing,” Inanna says. “I’ve waited longer to grant wishes. Besides, look at her. Can you doubt that she belongs with me?”

  “I can and I do. Grace is my daughter. I gave birth to her. She’s not yours.”

  Inanna waves a hand and a parchment appears, floating in the air in front of Mom.

  “I have your and your husband’s signatures on a contract that would suggest otherwise. Now I’ve come to collect.”

  Still seated on the ground, Grace gapes at the towering horned woman and whimpers.

  “Mom.” She reaches up to the top of her head, grabs her horns, and pulls as if trying to wrench them from her head. “Don’t let her take me. Please!”

  Inanna reaches a hand towards Grace’s shoulder. Grace recoils.

  “Sweetheart,” Inanna says. “I’m not here for you, although you will be coming with us, since there isn’t room for our kind in this world. I’m here for payment.”

  Her eyes dart across the room and land on me where I stand in my protection circle. I grip the protection stone tightly in my fist. Why is she staring at me? I smooth my hand over the top of my head, then almost cry, relieved that I don’t have any horns.

  “You can’t take her.” Dad steps between me and Inanna. “She wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “Read the contract,” Inanna replies. “It says that upon Grace’s coming of age, you owe me a human soul.”

  There’s shuffling near my feet. Fiona squats at the circle’s edge, scrambling with an incense pot. “It’s more sage,” she whispers. “For protection.”

  Dad holds his arms out, standing up so tall I can barely see Inanna without stepping out of my own protection circle.

  “You can’t have her. I don’t care what that paper says. Eva and Grace aren’t bargaining chips. They’re our children.” He waves a hand at Mom. “Sweetheart, tell her.”

  Mom now holds the parchment in her hands—the fateful agreement they’d made so many years before, when they were barely older than I am now. The fear on her face and the pain, I can read it in her eyes.

  “It’s ironclad,” she says.

  My legs fail, and I drop on my butt.

  Mom sees me fall and nearly jumps out of her casting circle but stops short. She takes a deep breath, and then presses her lips together and tilts her head like she’s just thought of something. “Wait!” She scans the contract again. “This contract we signed gave you a soul. But it didn’t specify hers.”

  Inanna’s lips curl up into a wry smile.

  I sigh shakily, not sure what they’re suggesting.

  “Take me instead,” Mom says.

  “No, me!” Dad steps forward, but turns back to Mom. “I’m the
obvious choice here. I’m an artist. You’re the breadwinner. You make more money. You can protect them from all of this.”

  Mom frowns but doesn’t protest.

  “If that’s it,” Inanna says, “then you need to cross into the summoning circle, and we’ll all be on our way.”

  “No,” Mom says again. “Not with Grace. She stays here with us!”

  “She cannot,” Inanna says. “I won’t allow it. She’s no longer a being of this world. She has to come with us. You know this to be true.”

  Dad moves toward the pentagram to take his place, and Mom stares at Grace where she cowers in her blood-crusted shawl, her small horns pointing up through gnarled hair.

  “Wait!” I cry. “Isn’t there something we can do?” I look to Mom and then Dad. “Dad, you can’t leave us, and Mom, we have to get Grace back.” I turn to Inanna. “I don’t care what you say, she’s not some creature from another world, she’s my Christmas-loving, neat freak of an older sister. She belongs here in this world.” I push myself up on my feet. “I don’t care if you put horns on her, she’s still my annoying sister. You can’t take her!”

  Inanna blinks her blood-red eyes at me, and then smirks. “It sounds to me like you might be willing to bargain, Eva.”

  I gasp at the suggestion, but my sister’s not prepared for whatever this is. She isn’t the one who was messing around with spirit boards and dark summoning spells in abandoned warehouses. This is as much my fault as Mom and Dad’s. It’s not Grace’s fault at all. She’s curled up in such a tiny little ball, she looks like a small child next to Inanna. A small, shaking, blood-covered, terrified child.

  “I’m willing to bargain,” I say.

  “NO!” Mom and Dad shout in unison.

  “I have to,” I say to them. “I can’t let her take Grace.”

  “No,” Mom says. “You don’t have to. But I do.” To Inanna she says, “What do you want?”

  “Well…” Inanna presses her fingertips together in front of her. “This is a surprise. I didn’t think I could get so lucky. I came for a soul, but I believe in the Christmas spirit, you might be about to give me two!”