by Paul Perea
Gabriella shook her head but didn’t dare look at Salome. “I’m afraid Aunt Grace is becoming as crazy as Gloria Rios!”
“Stop it!” Salome commanded.
“No, I won’t!” Gabriella answered sharply. “Did Grace also tell you that she’s been having trouble with her power? Did she tell you that she’s been having more and more visions? Sam finds her unconscious on the floor. She screams in the night . . . and she doesn’t even know it, even though Sam is awakened and scared out of his wits. She must have dreamt about Salazar because he certainly isn’t free. If he was, don’t you think I’d know it? Besides, did she tell you about the boy who has been bugging me to go out with him? It was probably him that she saw.”
“She didn’t tell me about that,” Salome admitted. “But even so, I think it’s time you and I had a talk about Daniel.”
“There’s nothing more to say,” Gabriella said as she turned and dried each bottle carefully. “He took advantage of me. He lied to me and now he’s gone. He’s not the father. End of story.”
“He needs to be told, Gabriella,” Salome demanded, unwilling to accept Gabriella’s explanations. “Daniel has an obligation . . . two to be exact. I don’t care that he’s married and I’m certainly not afraid of what Helena or Emilio might do. They can go to hell for all I care. What’s important is your well-being and the welfare of those children!”
“Please stop with this!” Gabriella cried and the bottles on the counter exploded. “It’s nobody’s business, least of all yours! You . . . you come back here after all these years and try to tell me what to do, what to say and what’s right and wrong! How dare you! You and Uncle Gabriel wander around all over the world and then think you can just waltz back in here and take charge. You have no right! Do you hear me?
“Now, for once and for all, Daniel is not the father of my babies!”
“We’re just trying to help,” Salome said quietly, stunned by the outburst and broken glass.
“Oh yeah? Well, I didn’t ask you for your help. Oh, and by the way, you can tell Uncle Gabriel to stop trying to snoop around in my head. I feel him. I sense his presence. Tell him that if he wants to know something, he can just ask me. There’s no need to resort to witchcraft. There are other ways to communicate!”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Salome said and turned and went to her bedroom, leaving Gabriella alone.
Gabriella stood shaking for a moment and then began to clean up the broken glass, but tears obscured her vision. She wept silently, not wanting Salome to hear her. The strain of keeping her mind closed off was getting the best of her.
As she retrieved the broom and dustpan, she felt their return. She closed her eyes and their minds connected. Maria was in the courtyard and Magdalena was in the field. Each conveyed that they were safe—for the time being. She was still protected from Salazar.
I hate this. I hate having to lie to my family. I’m so tired.
Gabriella wept as Maria tried to console her.
It’s for the best, my dear. Their ignorance will keep them safe and soon they will be far away.
Magdalena was not as kind. Gabriel is too strong. Enchant him before he does something stupid. Deal with your uncle, then we will attend to Salazar!
CHAPTER 41
As the train began pulling out of the station, Salome raised her hand and waved goodbye to Grace and Sam. She smiled but her lips trembled. The visit had been more than she had bargained for, and she wondered if her self-imposed exile was over. Perhaps it was time to return, she thought, as she fought back the tears.
With Gabriel’s snoring her only company, the expansive desert terrain held Salome’s gaze but her mind remained fixed on a puzzle that she could not solve. Hours later, the train had crossed the New Mexico border into Texas and her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she should probably seek out dinner. Salome quietly left the compartment and found a steward from whom she ordered food and drink.
A light rap at the door roused Gabriel from his slumber. He sat up groggily and watched Salome accept a tray from the steward.
“Come on, big brother. Time to wake up. Hope you don’t mind but I ordered some dinner and a bottle of wine, and of course a bourbon for you.”
Gabriel stretched and accepted the glass that was offered. He smiled at Salome, thankful to have her with him, but she didn’t return the smile.
“What’s wrong? You look distracted.”
“I am, and perhaps you can help me sort some things out,” Salome said.
“Sure,” he said as he attacked the food on the plate.
“It’s Gabriella. I had a feeling something’s not right with her situation so I did something I’m not proud of.”
“I’m listening,” Gabriel said, his curiosity piqued.
“So, back when Mom started formulating a plan to bind Salazar, she showed me Levinia’s Book of Shadows. The damn thing is like an encyclopedia—filled with all kinds of spells—some in languages I can’t even read!
“Since I was staying in mom’s old bedroom, I took the book without telling Gabriella, and decided to try to find a spell that might reveal the past. I wanted to see if I could figure out what happened between Daniel and Gabriella, and why Daniel suddenly lost interest.”
“You know why he lost interest,” Gabriel interrupted. “He got what he wanted, and may I remind you, was already engaged to be married. The boy is a cad. You don’t need a spell to figure that out. Besides, I had a talk with Gabriella. She set the record straight. You and Grace are way off base. She’s fine . . . a little tired but fine.”
Salome sank back against the cushioned seat and folded her arms. “What about the man Grace said she saw standing outside of the house. She thought it was Salazar.”
Gabriel finished his bourbon and poured himself some wine. “It wasn’t Salazar. It was dark and Grace probably couldn’t see that it was this other boy . . . the young man she got together with after Daniel left Arroyo. Gabriella told me that he’s been coming around, trying to woo her, but she’s sent him away.”
“I don’t care what she said to you. I think she’s lying and I think there’s more to this than meets the eye. When I pressed Gabriella about Daniel, I caught a thought that ran through her head. She was thinking about Salazar.”
“What? Okay, now you have my attention,” Gabriel said as he put his fork down.
“Something’s going on. I felt her excitement and apprehension. She’s mixed about it. I wondered what it could be, so I kept searching through the book until I found a spell that might help reveal the truth.
“A few days ago I stayed home to watch the babies while Gabriella was out with Selma. While she was away, I worked the spell. It wasn’t what I had hoped for but it did deliver some strange visions. I saw Daniel as a boy, but the image flickered, like a candle dancing in a breeze, and the image changed again. I saw him as a young man, and worse, I saw Salazar. Those three images filtered in and out, and I heard words that I did not understand. Then my senses were assaulted. I smelled blood. I felt violated. I tasted salt and dirt and saliva.”
“Sal, I know the spell you worked. It’s very dangerous . . . you could have been in serious trouble!”
Salome answered breathlessly. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was quite frightened during the experience. I was lying there on the floor in mom’s old bedroom, the spell allowing me to see, touch, taste, smell, hear—then I was there—in the bosque. I felt him on top of me, his cold touch, his mouth on mine, but I couldn’t see him. I struggled for air as he pressed himself harder and harder, and then I felt him penetrate me.
“I wished for it to stop and mercifully it did stop. Then I was cold, and I shivered and felt the prickly sensation of ice on my skin. I looked down at my arms and they were bleeding. Snow fell on me from the ceiling as if it were the sky, and with each flake that touched my skin I felt as if I were
being cut by tiny knives! My fear jolted me from my trance, leaving me without any answers.
“Gabriel, I’m afraid. There must be some kind of link between Salazar and Daniel.”
“Sal, I think you’re getting too carried away with this,” Gabriel said dismissively. “The whole Daniel – Salazar thing is just a coincidence. I mean, last summer she went through a lot. Mom died, she got pregnant and Daniel left her. Then Ruth and David died. I’m amazed at how resilient she is, and she’s a lot more level-headed and stronger than we give her credit for.”
“I know that,” Salome sighed, “but aside from Daniel, I think Salazar and Gabriella are still intertwined somehow, as they’ve been since she was a child. I sense that Daniel is caught up in this web but I can’t figure out how he figures into all of this. I have a bad feeling. I think Salazar is up to something. His presence in my vision was overpowering! Maybe we should go to California—find Daniel—see if that would help. Perhaps we can get off at the next stop and figure out what to do.”
“I certainly don’t think we should jump to conclusions,” Gabriel said and took a sip of the bourbon. “Salazar is bound and of no threat to us, or Gabriella, for that matter. Everything’s fine. I don’t know why you don’t trust her or what I’m saying. Gabriella explained everything— Daniel—the other boy. We need to stop fussing over her.”
“You certainly seem to be taking this all in stride,” Salome said as she searched his face. She watched Gabriel finish his dinner and saw an opportunity. With his guard down, Salome scanned his mind and what she saw made her gasp. Looking back at her was Gabriella’s face!
Gabriel looked up and smiled. “Look, if it will make you feel any better, I’ll connect with Grace right now and ask her to keep an eye on things. If she finds something is wrong, she can contact us immediately. Now eat before your food gets cold.”
“I dropped my napkin. Can you please get it for me?” Salome asked, and as he bent down she poured more bourbon for him, along with the contents of a vial.
“It would help if you removed your foot from it,” Gabriel laughed as he sat up and offered her the napkin.
Convinced Gabriel was under a spell, she decided to test her theory. “Gabriel, what if I told you I had proof that Salazar is a threat and Gabriella is in danger? Would you get off the train? Would you join me and head back to Arroyo?”
“You need to calm down,” Gabriel said angrily and downed the rest of his drink. “We are certainly not getting off of this train! I have to get back to work. As usual, you’re being dramatic and impetuous. Unless you have absolute proof, I can’t—”
Before he could finish he slumped sideways onto the seat.
“I suspected you might feel that way so I had to drug your bourbon. Sorry about that big brother. I’m afraid you’re not in control and I have no idea how to remove the spell you’re under. I know you’re going to hate me for this but I can’t have you standing in my way and I don’t have time to quarrel. You’ll sleep for a while but you’ll be okay, well, except for the awful headache you’re going to have.”
Salome acted quickly. She pulled her suitcase from underneath the bench, opened it, and retrieved her cloak and her mother’s book. As quickly as she could gather what she needed, she put the suitcase back, exited the compartment, and headed toward the back of the train.
When you wake up, I pray to God you’ll be released from whatever Gabriella did to you. But I can’t take any chances and I certainly can’t stay here to be your nursemaid. My intuition is telling me to return. Something is not right . . . I know it!
She pulled the cloak on haphazardly as she walked quickly through each car, scanning the other travelers who paid her no attention. Clutching the large leather-bound book to her chest, Salome continued her pace, looking back every now and then to ensure no one was following. Finally, she reached the caboose and stepped out.
The wind whipped her hair violently but Salome wasn’t worried about the speed. Holding tight to her mother’s book, Salome took a deep breath, closed her eyes, muttered an incantation and stepped off the train.
CHAPTER 42
Gabriella stared straight ahead and studied the wooden cross hanging on the wall behind the altar. She wondered if Jesus really had looked like that. She wondered about the sound of his voice. Did he have a warm laugh? Had he acted like a regular person or was it apparent that he was so much more—the son of God?
“Do you really believe that God exists?” Gabriella asked.
“What an odd question to ask of a priest,” Matthew chuckled but his amusement faded as he looked at her. “Gabriella, what’s troubling you?”
“So much, I—I don’t know even know how or where to begin,” she said, and reflected for a moment before continuing. “When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to tell me stories of angels. Have you ever heard of the Grigori?”
“Yes,” Matthew answered. “Why do you ask?”
“According to my grandmother, the Grigori were the angels closest to humans, and some of them did something that was strictly forbidden. They mated with humans and gave birth to beings that weren’t quite human. These children were given many names, but the one that took, the one that stuck, was witch.
“When the archangels discovered this, they punished the Grigori and hunted down their offspring. But some of these children survived. They hid from the angels and eventually procreated amongst themselves, giving birth to more witches. The very eldest of the witches, the few that survived, went into hiding. They are immortal. And their descendants, well, they thrive and live in this world. But even so, we stay hidden even though we stand in front of you, plain as day.”
Matthew turned and looked at Gabriella, bewildered. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”
“Father, do you believe in witches?”
Matthew was taken aback—this was not what he was expecting. When Gabriella had contacted him to request they talk, he assumed it was to discuss her situation, not fanciful tales and certainly not witches.
“If you are referring to old crones that fly through the sky on broomsticks and scare little children on Halloween, then no, I don’t believe in witches. As for the story you just shared—are you asking if I believe that to be true?”
She turned to look at him and restated her question. “What I mean is, do you believe that there are people that can work magic? Do you believe in witches and angels and God and the Devil? Do you think there really is a heaven and a hell?”
“That’s a lot to ask, Gabriella, but I’ll do my best to answer you. Here’s my take on witches—or at least people who claim to be witches. I know that there are people who practice what some may refer to as witchcraft. I don’t believe that they are effective or necessarily a problem. I think that they are just misguided people who are grasping for something in this world that will give them a sense of power, of accomplishment. I have read about older pagan religions that claimed to possess power over the elements. Even the local Indian tribes profess to have some kind of preternatural bond with nature. As for God and the Devil and heaven and hell, yes, I believe.”
“My grandmother told me that there is no hell,” Gabriella said with eyes downturned. “Well, at least not a fiery pit. Hell is the absence of love—the absence of God. She said that when Lucifer was cast out of heaven, he was distraught to be removed from God. He was in such agony that being separated from the one he loved became hell. That is why she always pushed us the way she did. She believed that this was the only way to keep the cycle turning. That’s where the real power lies, she said to me. It’s love. It’s a cycle that must be kept turning or else all is lost.”
Matthew smiled as he thought of Mirabella. He missed her and his heart ached as memories flooded his mind. For a moment he was transported to another time, when he was younger, when his world was younger, and his life was filled with pleasure and possibilities. Then he had met Mirabella—an
d Joseph. And then his life changed. It became dangerous. But it also became true.
“Father?”
“I’m sorry, Gabriella. My mind wandered,” he said, collecting himself. “So, are you telling me that you believe this story? You believe in witches?”
Gabriella turned in the pew to face him. “I’ve been struggling with something and I’m very afraid. I needed to talk to you about all of this because I think you’re the only one that can provide the answers. You see, the fact of the matter is, I’m one—I’m a witch, and I can do things that you might think impossible.”
Saying the words out loud brought some relief and she watched his face. He didn’t appear to be disgusted or even amused. Rather, he looked contemplative and thoughtful.
“Okay, Gabriella, let’s say that I believe you. I believe that you are a witch with wonderful magical powers. So if you are, why tell me? What is bothering you about being a witch? Do you feel some kind of guilt or shame about what you are doing? If you are, then tell me, are you seeking absolution? Is this a confession?”
“I’m not looking for forgiveness, nor am I ashamed of what I am,” Gabriella said. “I guess I find myself questioning things. You see, ever since I was a little girl I’ve been in contact with ghosts and other spirits. One spirit in particular is very dangerous. My family, my children, maybe even the entire world is in danger. I have to do something about it, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid, not just for my own soul, but I’m afraid for my children.
“I lay awake at night thinking about all of these things and I feel so alone. I start to panic and I wonder about the nature of things, the nature of God. I wonder that if there were a God, then why would He allow someone like me to exist? Why would He allow these evil spirits and ghosts to exist?
“Why are we here? What’s our purpose? Does it matter if we are good or bad? When we die, do we simply crumble into dust with no memory or spirit and drift into nothingness? The thought of that really frightens me. I can’t even begin to comprehend it!”