A Signal Shown

by Yvonne Montgomery

Brenna glanced at Andrea. "Do you remember when you left my place?"

  "After midnight for sure." Andrea thought for a moment. "It was twenty till one when I turned out my light."

  Max looked up from his notes with a grin. "This is astonishing. I've never come upon so many clearly defined manifestations."

  "We're so happy to provide you with material." Noreen's tone was acidic.

  Max ignored her. "Have you experienced anything else?" He asked Brenna.

  She looked down at her hands, realizing how much more she had to tell. "I've had dreams since my grandmother died earlier this year, but they've become crazy vivid and much scarier since I got to Wisdom Court. Then there's the stars added to my film, and the weird fortune cookie message. And the face in the attic window—I've taken several pictures of that."

  "Don't forget the star on your bathroom mirror," Andrea added.

  "Oh, yeah." Brenna half-laughed. "Can't forget that."

  When no one said anything, Brenna glanced around, finding herself the target of uneasy stares.

  Aura Lee's hands were clasped together in her lap and her eyes were saucer-wide. "On your mirror?"

  Brenna leaned against the back of the chair, aware suddenly of just how tired she felt. "Drawn in the steam after I took a shower."

  "How long have these things been happening?" Max had lost his air of scholarly enjoyment and looked thoroughly uncomfortable.

  "As soon as I got here. Five, six days ago?"

  "When were you going to mention all this?" Rose asked.

  "When there was a pause in the action." Brenna winced at the sharp edge to her voice. "Look, I wasn't hiding it or anything. You know it's been loony-toons ever since I got here."

  "Is that all of it?" Max asked slowly. "What you told us?"

  "I guess so." Brenna rubbed one brow, trying to recall the details of her time. "Yeah, that's it. It's been pretty intense."

  "Beware the face of the Observer, for its placid surface hides maelstroms and nameless dangers," Noreen stated, her voice deep. "Marcella DePugh Wallace. Eighteen thirteen to eighteen seventy-two."

  Rose blinked. "You must be thawing out."

  Noreen smirked. "I'm happy to report that I am."

  Brenna rubbed at her head irritably, and coughed at the thickening air. "Do you smell lavender?"

  "Cottie wore lavender," Aura Lee murmured. "I smell it, too." She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

  "Always?" Max was frowning at his notes.

  "No, sometimes she wore more of a cinnamon perfume." Aura Lee took an eager look into the corners of the room. "Do you think she might be here?"

  "I suppose she might." Max breathed in deeply. "The scent is quite strong, isn't it? Almost unpleasant."

  "Ur-gent." The word was more croaked than spoken, the voice uttering it harsh and low.

  Max stiffened at the sound, his gaze veering to Rose. She was gaping at Kerry in horror. Beside her Aura Lee was in shock, hand on her chest, her mouth opening and shutting silently.

  Brenna's breath was coming in gasps. She saw Max turn toward Kerry and extend his hand. At the brush of his fingers against her shoulder he jerked back in reflex, every ounce of color leaving his face, but forced himself to touch her again.

  Kerry's eyes were closed, her facial muscles slack. Her head sagged to one shoulder and her arms flopped to her sides. "Must... know," said the voice coming from Kerry. Her lips did not move. "Danger."

  Kerry slumped against Max and his arms went around her, clutching her against him. "Kerry, darling, are you all right? Kerry." He pulled back to look into her face and patted her cheeks, one after the other.

  Noreen was on her feet. "Where's my phone? Where's yours?" she demanded of Andrea.

  Rose was statue-still, gaze fixed on Kerry. Brenna lurched out of her chair to help her, afraid she, too, was going to collapse.

  After a moment Kerry twitched and coughed. She pulled out of Max's hold and sucked in a deep breath, and then coughed again.

  Aura Lee made a small sound and slid off the sofa onto the floor.

  Chapter 21

  "Aura Lee!" Rose knelt at her side, peering into her face, patting her hand. She put her ear to her chest. "Her breathing's slow but steady."

  "Should we get the doctor over here?" Noreen let out a breath. "And if we do, what do we tell her?"

  "Kerry." Max held her across his lap and had her head against his chest. "Luv, wake up." He bent to look more closely at her. "Kerry, wake up. She's pale as death." He looked in appeal toward Noreen. "I've never seen someone go right out like this. Usually they recover after the spirit leaves them." He ran a finger over her cheek.

  "How do you know it has?" Brenna and Andrea had reached for each other's hands and were holding on for dear life. "Maybe who—whatever is still there," Brenna said, shivering even as she said the words. "How do you tell?"

  Rose got to her feet. "I'll call Jerri. We'll have to tell her some of what's been going on, but she'll be discreet, I think." Hurrying out of the room, she turned back to summon Andrea and Brenna. "You two get some hot water and hand towels. Wipe their faces and their hands. It might help revive them."

  Brenna and Andrea followed her out.

  Noreen bent to rest one palm on Aura Lee's forehead. "She has a normal temperature, I think. She looks as though she's sleeping." With difficulty she stood up and made her way to Max's side. "Is the girl breathing freely?"

  Max nodded, tightening his hold on her.

  "How much more can we take of this horror show?" Noreen sat down on the edge of the cushion. "It's getting worse, and quickly. If Kerry was actually channeling some entity, what comes next?"

  Kerry made a sound, a long sigh, and moved her head.

  Max bent over her, cupping her cheek gently. "Kerry, can you hear me? Kerry," he repeated more loudly. "Wake up, luv."

  Eyes opening slowly, Kerry looked up at Max in confusion. "What happened?"

  Max's breath whooshed out in a relieved sigh. "Thank God. I was getting worried." He stroked her hair back from her forehead. "You were in a trance, luv, speaking for the dead. How do you feel?"

  "What?" Kerry struggled to get up, and with Max's help, finally managed to sit leaning against him. "You're saying I was possessed? Are you delusional?" She gazed around, seeing Noreen sitting on the other side. "Has he been drinking?"

  Noreen's chuckle was shaky. "Believe what he says, my dear. You gave voice to something—we're not sure what. Scared us all."

  Kerry rubbed at her brow and grimaced. "I have a horrible headache." She glanced down at the floor as Andrea came into the room with a basin of water and several washcloths. "What's wrong with Aura Lee?"

  Andrea dipped a cloth into the water and wrung it out, placing it with care across Aura Lee's forehead. "She fainted and fell off the couch when you started speaking in tongues. Rose is calling the doctor."

  Brenna appeared with a second bowl and came to the sofa to sit beside Kerry. The water sloshed near the edge of the bowl. "Careful, I don't want to get you wet. I'm glad to see you're awake." She got the cloth wet and surveyed Kerry. "Let me sponge your face and hands. Rose told me to," she added as Kerry began to protest. "She'll get mad at me if I don't follow orders."

  "Right." Kerry submitted to Brenna's efforts and rested against Max. "What did I say?"

  Max settled her more comfortably beside him and peered into her face. "You look a bit more among the living. You said urgent and must know. Then, danger. Do you remember doing it?"

  Kerry shook her head, wincing and putting her hand to her eyes again. "The last thing I remember is drinking hot chocolate and waiting for the fire to warm me up."

  "Rose?" Aura Lee said in a faint voice.

  Andrea dabbed more warm water across her face. "Are you awake? Can you hear me?"

  "I hear you. Where's Rose?"

  Rounding the doorway, Rose hurried toward Aura Lee. "You're awake! Thank goodness for that. Jerri will be here soon to make sure you're all r
ight."

  Aura Lee made an effort to turn to her side, but Rose pressed on her shoulder and eased her back to the rug. "Jerri said to keep you from moving until she can make sure you haven't hurt yourself. You just relax. Hand me a blanket, will you?" she said to Noreen. "Thanks." She tucked the soft green folds around Aura Lee's neck and made sure she was warm. "How's Kerry?"

  "Headache, some disorientation," said Max. "No memory of the event."

  Kerry opened her eyes. "You've got your three-piece suit voice again. I'm okay," she said to Rose. "Sorry for the drama."

  "Don't be silly. It's not as though you did it deliberately, not you."

  Kerry smiled up at Max. "Good thing I'm a skeptic, right? Best defense against being thought a fake," she murmured. She sagged more deeply against him and her eyes closed.

  "Max?" Rose's voice rose in concern.

  He peered at her and he put his hand to her face. He looked at Rose. "Asleep."

  "I'll feel a lot better after Jerri checks them out." Rose shot a look of concern at Aura Lee, who was examining the room as if it were strange to her. "What are we going to do about all this?" she asked abruptly. "What are we going to do?"

  * * *

  The doctor came and soon went, having pronounced both Aura Lee and Kerry shaken but essentially undamaged. "You, however," Jerri Williamson said bluntly to Rose, "look like a stiff wind would blow you into the next county. I get your rigmarole about not wanting to go into detail, but whatever's going on here is taking its toll on all of you. The only way you keep me from digging into those details is to promise to keep a close eye on everyone, especially the elders." The cynical smile didn't sit well on the square, jolly face that kept her one of the most popular doctors in the city. "I mean it, take care of yourself and watch out for the others. I'll check back in a few days and there'll be hell to pay if you ignore my excellent advice."

  With that she drove away in her ancient Citroen, its exhaust belching smoke into Boulder's heavily monitored air. For the hundredth time Rose wondered how many air pollution violations she'd accumulated over the years.

  Rose turned and went back into the house. She was thinking about lunch when she entered the living room where everyone still sat. Noreen was nodding over a book and Brenna was listening to Andrea. She glanced up from her tablet when Rose sat down in the chair beside her.

  Max was continuing to act as a pillow for Kerry. "Where do we stand?"

  Rose surveyed the motley group with affection. "I'm thinking that we haven't had lunch, and after we eat, maybe we should all take a nap. What do you think?"

  Andrea sighed. "I hate to say it, but I think we ought to keep reading Caldicott's journal. I don't know about you, but I want to get to the bottom of this paranormal stuff as soon as we can."

  Brenna nodded her agreement. "If there's any information in it that can put a stop to the creepy-crawly stuff around here, I'm all for it."

  Rose looked at Aura Lee, who was ensconced in her favorite chair, still wrapped in a fluffy throw. "Agreed. I'm tired but I couldn't sleep now anyway."

  "Kerry will kill us if she doesn't get to do the reading."

  "No she won't," said Kerry, her eyes still shut. "Let somebody else read it for a while. I'll just listen."

  "Noreen? How say you?"

  "We are begun on a great quest and I shall not be of the lesser sort who would impede us. Lilliana Salter Lunderson, 1871-1922."

  "Wonder what her quest was?" Kerry mumbled.

  "Haven't a clue, my dear." Noreen shifted her weight to sit more erectly. "But I'm in agreement with her."

  Rose stood up. "All right, I'm going to order pizza—the cheesier and more fat-laden the better. Brenna, vegetarian for you, and the rest of you can fight over what I choose."

  "No anchovies," called Kerry as Rose headed for the kitchen.

  "On the side," she answered.

  * * *

  They elected Max to continue the reading after the pizza had been inhaled. He sat nearer the light at one end of the sofa and opened Caldicott's journal to the marked page.

  "We'd reached the bit where she says the establishment of Wisdom Court was a result of her love story, to say nothing of Duncan's Nazi-loving father," reminded Max.

  "Which sounds pretty melodramatic, when you think about it," Brenna said.

  "We'll see." Max began to read.

  That spring was a time out of time I could never regret. Duncan and I were bent on making every moment count for the time we might never have together. We met at an abandoned cottage tucked into a copse on the far edge of his father's estate. Vacant since the death of the groundskeeper years before, it became our secret place. Duncan hadn't returned to Oxford, but instead was settling his affairs before enlisting. I'd been distressed he hadn't introduced me to his father, thinking it was because of my background, but when I asked him, his response shook me. "More like you should be upset about my background. My father is doing all he can to keep England from going to war with Germany."

  He told me visitors to the estate were arriving in darkness and kept isolated from everyone, including the servants. Duncan believed some were go-betweens from the German government. "My father believes in Hitler's positions and that England should join with his government to prevent economic disaster in Europe." We were huddled near the small peat fire, wrapped in a blanket, careful to use little light for fear of discovery.

  "He's supporting a clandestine effort," he said in a near-whisper. "He's been at me again to travel with him to Berlin to further the scheme."

  "It's mad," I murmured, "and traitorous as well. Won't the authorities discover what he's doing?"

  Duncan leaned his head against mine. "I'll try to reason with him when he returns tonight. He's acting in opposition to everything I believe. If I have to stop him, I shall, but I don't want him to know about us. I fear what he might do if he thinks he could influence me through you."

  Later that week, it was a different Duncan who met me. I'd never seen him without the calm that was so attractive. That night, however, he was nervous, almost fearful, looking over his shoulder as we settled onto the old chair before the fire. "My father has become an occultist," he said quietly. "He believes he and his cronies can bring about England's refusal to go to war by way of spells and objects consecrated to the devil."

  I looked at him, bewildered. "Are you talking about magic?"

  Duncan nodded. "He's accumulated an array of potions and crystals, and was boasting of having obtained a powerful talisman capable of amplifying the powers he's discovered in himself. He's been corresponding with that blighter Crowley and his sort, and refuses to consider anything I say against it."

  We held each other like children in a storm. "I must get you out of the village, dearest. He knows I'm seeing someone, and mentioned it. He wants to know who you are, I know, in order to use you to force me to do his bidding. Get your things together and be ready to leave within three days. I can't do what's necessary if I have to worry about your safety."

  "When shall I leave?" I'd known since our first meeting we'd be parted, but I'd planned to stay in the village with Flo after he was gone.

  "Any time now. I'm working on getting you out of the country." He seemed angry at my shock. "Don't you understand? He's dangerous. He still has entrée into certain circles of power. I won't risk your safety, Clara. You must trust me."

  I packed what few things I had, clothing and a few mementoes of Mum and hid them at the cottage. Duncan told me not to share with Flo my plans to leave.

  "But where can I go?" I asked Duncan in despair. "You'll be in the RAF. Can't I go to London to work and wait for you?"

  He pulled me to him and held me so tightly I could scarcely breathe. "We found a body yesterday... a Gypsy girl, the cousin of my friend Andras. She'd been used in a ritual, a sacrifice. God!" He swore violently. "These scum are living in the Dark Ages, casting curses and praying to evil spirits." He shook me by the shoulders, leaving bruises with his strong hands. "I'll see
they pay for what they've done, but I won't leave you here to suffer something of the same."

  The next night I arrived at the cottage and in the clearing I found a young man. Clad in shabby clothing, he was waiting beside a horse hitched to a caravan. I started to run away but he spoke. "Stay, please. I am Andras, Duncan's friend. He asked me to meet him here." He rubbed the horse's nose and pulled its ear gently. "This is Firefly."

  I turned back to him. In the moonlight I could see sorrow in his face, and kindness.

  I stepped toward him, hand extended. "I'm Clara."

  His smile was quite beautiful.

  Moments later Duncan pushed through the thicket at the edge of the clearing. He was out of breath, carrying a leather valise. He glanced behind him, searching to see if anyone followed. He set the valise in front of me and turned to Andras.

  "I regret being late, my friend. I ran into a spot of bother." He shifted his left arm and I saw with horror the patch of blood on his shoulder where the seam of his coat was torn.

  "Duncan, you're hurt!" I moved toward him, wanting to look at his wound, but he took my hand and held me beside him.

  "Later, my dear." He looked again at his friend. "I'd hoped for more time, but you must go now. They may have discovered which way I went."

  Andras nodded and walked to the horse, loosing a rope from a branch of the thicket and running his hand along the back of the creature.

  Duncan bent to pick up the valise. "Let's get your things." As we entered the cottage he dropped it beside the door. "Listen, darling." He took me in his arms, and I could smell the sweat and blood on his shirt. "In the valise are bearer bonds, a good deal of them. They'll be enough to keep you until I catch up with you later on. I put in fifty pounds for the journey." He leaned his cheek against my hair and stroked my back. "Andras will take you to the edge of London." He mentioned the name of a village on the city outskirts. "My friend, David—we were at Oxford together—is the son of an American diplomat. He'll see you to their embassy and get you on the first airplane going to New York."

  "But, Duncan," I said in protest, "I have no passport. I can't just—"