Spirit Whispers

by Cadie Snow

  “I’m not certain of anything,” Jaime said. “That dress has taken on a life of its own. Until we find and deactivate its evil source, I’m terrified of what might happen.”

  At the shop, Ian was waiting outside. He was in uniform, looking very official. “I hoped you’d be here soon. There were a couple of customers, but they left. It’s a good time to pick up the dress.”

  Ian made it sound like a simple action: just go inside and get the dress. Why did she think it wasn’t going to be that easy?

  “I’ll keep my phone with me,” Jaime said. “If I need you, I’ll text.”

  Ian held up his phone. “I’ll be right here.”

  “And don’t let any customers in, until we’ve transported the dress,” Olivia said.

  Inside, the shop was so quiet it was spooky. There wasn’t even the whir of a fan or the sound of footsteps. It seemed odd, but Jaime brushed that aside.

  Lily was in her office, looking through logbooks. “Jaime…Olivia…I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Can you unlock the storage room?” Jaime said. “We should be done in a few minutes, then you can get on with business.”

  “I’ll sure be glad when that dress is out of the shop,” Lily said.

  Olivia gave her a quick hug. “We’ll take care of it.”

  Lily unlocked the door to the storage room, then returned to her office.

  Jaime turned the knob with trepidation. She pulled the door open and went inside, then switched on the light. Olivia was right behind her. Once they were inside, the door clicked shut. The area was packed with boxes and assorted items. There were wall shelves with a variety of tools.

  “I have the key to the closet,” Jaime said, and headed over to it. Then a filmy white form drifted across her path, giving her pause.

  “Did you see that?” Olivia whispered.

  Jaime nodded then stepped forward. A blast of wind in her face startled her. “I don’t like this.”

  “And I just stepped into a cold spot,” Olivia said. “Did you feel that?”

  “Let me see if I can communicate with the ghost,” Jaime said. She stood still and breathed to calm her nerves. Then she reached out to see if she could sense the presence. With her mind open and accepting, she tried to contact the source of the phenomenon.

  The response to Jaime’s greeting wasn’t what she anticipated. Without answering her, the ghost communicated in another way. Items flew from a shelf and hit the floor at her feet. Then a huge box tipped over, spilling its contents.

  Jaime linked her arm with Olivia’s but continued trying to talk to the ghost.

  It was no use. The attempt was met with anger. A pair of scissors flew across the room, nearly hitting Jaime in the head. She screeched and backed up. Then a bucket launched into the air, and Jaime pulled Olivia down with her, barely avoiding the impact.

  “We have to get out of here,” Olivia said.

  Jaime raced to the door, right behind her sister. But when Olivia opened the door, it slammed shut before they could get out. No matter how they tried, neither could keep the door open long enough to escape.

  Jaime slid to the floor and leaned against the door. “I have to warn Ian.” She texted for him to get Lily out and keep her outside, ending with a warning not to enter the store.

  Olivia sat beside her. The shelves in the room rattled, tossing more items onto the floor. “Now what?”

  “I have an idea,” Jaime said. She mentally focused and blocked her connection to the angry ghost. After withdrawing contact, the room went silent. She held her breath and waited.

  “That might have done it,” Olivia whispered.

  “Whatever you do, ignore the ghost. Maybe we can avoid his wrath long enough to get this done,” Jaime said, then got up. She cautiously walked over to the closet with Olivia by her side.

  Jaime turned the key and unlocked the closet. But when she pulled on the handle, it didn’t open. She yanked again. “I think it’s stuck.”

  Olivia searched for an implement and came back with a screwdriver. “This might do it.” She tried to pry the closet open, but it didn’t budge.

  Jaime pulled on the handle, while Olivia used the screwdriver for leverage. Then the door exploded, flying off the hinges and hitting the floor with a thud. A burst of energy hit Jaime, blowing her back. She was thrown against Olivia.

  The interior of the closet radiated. Jaime recognized the black magic and panicked. She wasn’t sure her abilities were enough to deal with such strength. But she couldn’t give up.

  With shaky hands, she reached into the closet for the wedding costume. When Jaime touched the fabric, it snapped and sparked, biting her hand and making her jump back. She shook her hand, but before she could take the dress, she perceived a woman’s voice. It was a faint whisper that only Jaime could hear.

  “Do you feel that?” Jaime said, knowing Olivia would sense the presence, even if unable hear the whisper.

  Olivia stared at the dress. “Yes…such horrible sadness.”

  Jaime had the ability to speak to the dead. It wasn’t the first time that someone from the spirit world had contacted her.

  “I’m Elizabeth May Potter,” the woman said.

  In Jaime’s experience, communication from the spirit world was fleeting. It was best to let the spirit convey what they wanted to before their energy faded.

  “My crime was to love,” Elizabeth said. “I paid with my life.”

  There were a few moments of silence, but Jaime still perceived the contact.

  “I warn you,” Elizabeth said. “The evil attached to this dress pervades like a deadly virus. If not stopped before killing your sister, it will gain strength and kill again.”

  A faint image of Elizabeth floated above the dress. Jaime recognized the blond hair and the ring of flowers. “I won’t be at peace until the curse is broken.”

  Then Elizabeth vanished.

  Jaime removed the dress from the closet, then said, “We need to get out of here. Then we can look for the written curse.”

  This time Olivia opened the door without issue, and Jaime followed her into the shop. She laid the jacket and skirt on a table. “Help me find the plate.”

  A search of the jacket wasn’t fruitful. Olivia double-checked the lace of the sleeves, while Jaime felt around the collar and the lacing at the back. But there was only satin and lace and pearl buttons.

  It had to be in the skirt. Jaime turned it inside out, so she could examine the bustle. The steel spring bones created a rounded form that the fabric draped over. Olivia held the skirt, while Jaime ran her hands over the extra layers of fabric.

  “It’s tiny, but I feel something in this seam.” Jaime held on to the spot. “Get scissors from the office.”

  Olivia was back quickly, then Jaime snipped the seam. She was careful, as she didn’t want to cause any damage. It was important to preserve the object, so she could read the curse—and then destroy it.

  She retrieved a small tube, no bigger around than a knitting needle. “We might need special tools to get this open, but I’m sure a tailor could help us.” She cupped the item in both hands and held it out so Olivia could see it.

  The tiny tube glowed, then, in a flash, was so hot it scalded Jaime’s hands. With a yelp, Jaime yanked her hands back. But the tube didn’t drop to the floor; it shot away and vanished from sight.

  “Where did it go?” Olivia shouted.

  Ignoring her burning skin, Jaime helped to search. She spotted the enchanted tube hovering near the ceiling, but then it whisked away. “There,” she said, and ran after it.

  Down another aisle, Jaime saw the tube glowing. She lurched for it, but it bounced off the floor and soared over her head.

  Olivia jumped and reached up to grab it, but the tube twirled like a baton and sped down the aisle.

  There was no sight of the object, and if it had dropped, there had been no sound to reveal its hiding spot. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “Th
ink of what?” Olivia said. “Do you know where it is?”

  “No, I don’t,” Jaime said. “And I have news for you…that written curse is self-protecting.”

  Olivia let out a long breath. “That is bad news. Retrieving it is going to be a challenge.”

  “No kidding, and I’m not confident our powers are up to it.” Jaime blew on her palms. She couldn’t afford this delay and had no idea how long it would take to recover that tube—if she could. Meanwhile, Harper hung on by a thread.

  Chapter 8

  Jaime stared at the offending dress. She couldn’t leave it in the middle of the shop, but the closet door had blown off. There was nowhere to secure it.

  “What now?” Olivia said.

  “We’ve managed to make the situation worse, not better,” Jaime said. “That plate will have to stay wherever it is for the moment.”

  “The evil is only unleashed when the dress is worn,” Olivia said. “We have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Jaime sighed. “One dying woman is quite enough. We’re going to transport this dress to Aunt Iris’s house.”

  “Good idea,” Olivia said. “We certainly can’t leave it here.” She picked up the wedding costume and carried it in her arms.

  Jaime followed her out of the shop.

  Wide-eyed, Lily stood beside Ian on the sidewalk. “What happened in there? There was loud banging and a sound like an explosion.”

  “I feared a poltergeist was ripping the place apart,” Ian said. “I was worried.” Then he frowned. “What happened to your hands?”

  Jaime looked at her reddened palms. “It’s a long story.”

  Olivia clutched the dress to her chest and looked at Lily. “I’m sorry, but your storage room is a wreck. We will make it up to you.”

  Lily shook her head. “I should have known. I regret buying that dress.”

  “How could you have known?” Jaime said.

  “The auctioneer told me who had been the original owner of the wedding costume,” Lily said. “And made a point that legend had warned not to touch the dress—which explains why William had buried it in a locked box. But Maggie Swenson hadn’t believed any of that, or any of the stories about her grandfather’s connection to witchcraft. Still…I had misgivings but ignored them. I need to learn to heed my feelings.”

  “You can’t blame yourself,” Jaime said. “Bad things were connected to this dress long before you came along.”

  “Hire someone to fix up your storage room,” Olivia said, “and send us the bill. And as long as we have possession of this dress, I don’t think you will be threatened. But be very cautious.”

  Lily went into her shop, and Ian said, “What really happened in there?”

  “I’ll tell you everything, I promise,” Jaime said. “For now, can you escort us to Aunt Iris’s house? We have to secure this dress.”

  “Only if you swear that you’ll treat your burns as soon as you get there.”

  Jaime didn’t argue; her palms were painful. She was relieved to have Ian by her side, as he reassured her. His view of the supernatural was calm if not informed. He was a good friend to have. At least she knew that he’d make sure no one interfered during the transport of the dress.

  That night, Jaime tried to regroup. The dress had been secured in a trunk that was stored in the basement at Iris’s. That didn’t put her mind at ease, because it was still evil and only temporarily contained. She still had to find the written curse and destroy it, yet had no clue how to do that.

  The report about Harper’s condition was disheartening. It seemed the illness was winning the battle. Jaime had to stop the evil before her sister died and more deaths followed. Since Sophia had been helpful about the written curse, she might be of more assistance.

  While the kids did their homework, Jaime called Sophia. She talked about the issue she faced, and about the fiasco that had occurred in the process of moving the dress. As she filled her cousin in on the morbid details, her heart sank. It all sounded so bad.

  “That is discouraging that the plate escaped,” Sophia said. “Written curses aren’t often self-protecting. That requires a powerful enchantment.”

  “Any ideas?”

  Sophia was silent for a moment. “I haven’t dealt with anything like this before. I’m not sure how to overpower magic of that type. I’ll check with the other cousins and let you know if they have any suggestions.”

  Jaime would have to come up with something, but if her family hadn’t encountered this type of enchantment before, that didn’t bode well.

  Jaime decided that it was time to tell the kids what was going on. She couldn’t continue to shield them from reality. She found Abigail in her room and was relieved that she seemed normal again. “How are you, honey?”

  Abigail shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I still miss Eve. She wasn’t in school today.”

  That was just as well. Jaime hoped that she didn’t return, because Eve was one strange girl.

  “Can you come downstairs? I need to share some news with you and your brothers,” Jaime said.

  The kids congregated in the living room, and Jaime told them how Harper had gotten ill. She shared the details of the dress and its curse, but spared the specifics of how poorly Harper faired.

  “I miss Aunt Harper,” Landon said.

  “Me too,” Andrew chimed in. “Is she going to get better?”

  “I’m doing all I can to make that happen,” Jaime said, unable to disguise her frustration. She hoped with all her heart that she would be able to save Harper, but her confidence waned.

  The next day, Jaime went to visit Harper. The sight was heartbreaking. She had lost so much weight that she looked gaunt. Her eyes were glassy, and her skin was red from the severe rash.

  Jaime held her sister’s hand. “Harper, can you hear me?”

  Harper looked up but didn’t speak.

  “You have to hang on,” Jaime said. “You can’t give up.”

  The crazed look on Harper’s face scared Jaime. It wasn’t surprising that delirium would result from so many days of a high fever, but the expression in her eyes revealed more.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s my dress,” Harper said, in a breathy voice. “My special dress. I won’t give it up. It belongs to me.”

  Jaime didn’t want to argue, as she didn’t see that would do any good.

  “I’m in love, and I’ll be married to the man I love.” Harper widened her eyes. “I must have my dress.” She tried to lift her hand but didn’t have the strength. “And where is my ring of flowers?”

  Jaime wasn’t certain if her sister was speaking as herself or as Elizabeth. It was eerie. The dress had already attempted to pull Harper to it. Was it now talking to her?

  “It’s your telepathy,” Jaime said. “You’re getting messages. But it’s not you…remember that.”

  Harper stared blankly, as if that didn’t make any sense.

  “Don’t leave us,” Jaime said. “Fight…you must fight.”

  Harper didn’t reply; she just closed her eyes.

  Jaime called for the nurse. “Keep an eye on her. Someone must stay with her at all times.” Then she went downstairs to let Olivia know what she planned.

  Drastic situations called for drastic measures. Jaime’s strength was her psychic ability, and she had to tap into her power without delay. She went to the meditation room then locked the door, so her deep meditation wouldn’t be interrupted.

  Jaime turned on the sound system to listen to a soothing tape of flowing water. She stretched out on the narrow bed with a black kyanite crystal in each hand. Then she closed her eyes. The future stretched before her, and she opened her mind to encompass what was to come.

  After relaxing her body and calming her thoughts, Jaime began to pick up vibrations. She remained still, allowing the perceptions to enter her thoughts. Only it wasn’t Harper or the dress that appeared.

  It was Abigail, and she was talking to Eve. For a second, Jaime wondered if
the event was the past coming into better focus, or if it was the future.

  Eve’s dark hair hung loose, and her eyes were black. She spoke in a low voice. “I’m sorry, so sorry. You know how much I like you.”

  Abigail looked so trusting, so vulnerable. Jaime wanted to reach into the scene and put her arms around Abigail. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t really happening—at least, not yet.

  Jaime watched and listened, trying to understand what was going on. With subtle manipulation, Eve was perverting Abigail’s mind. The words used and the tone of voice was hypnotizing. She made a plea for help, begging for friendship and loyalty—but looking more like a spider luring prey into its web.

  Abigail was in a trance, speaking in a measured rhythm. She wanted more power, craved it. She would have it, just as her friend Eve had encouraged her. But it hadn’t been her wish; the desire resulted from a command—a powerful command sourced from magic.

  Jaime waited, not wanting to miss any part of the premonition. But all was quiet. Eve was gone and Abigail’s image faded. After a few seconds, Jaime opened her eyes, horror settling in her chest.

  Eve hadn’t been at school, but she most certainly hadn’t dropped out of Abigail’s life. The threat loomed, and Jaime had to get a grip on it before more damage was done. She couldn’t let dark magic influence her young daughter.

  Jaime had to learn what all of that was about. She left the meditation room and went directly home. Abigail was at school. The house was quiet.

  Abigail had been keeping a dream journal. The dreams logged there might offer clues. Jaime pulled open the drawer then sat on her daughter’s bed to look through the pages. The notes about the dreams revealed that Abigail’s psychic ability was increasing.

  The entries were a reflection that Abigail perceived more than she’d spoken of. She was aware that Eve wasn’t merely a friend, and those feelings had come through in her dreams. But in the dream state, Abigail hadn’t contacted the truth yet.

  Each dream had to do with increasing magical power, and Eve seemed to play a prominent role. But the meaning wasn’t clear. Abigail was confused, trying to understand. She had a best friend who was leading her to greater things. The symbology in the dream supported that.