Of Curses and Charms

by Nyx Halliwell

Taking a sip, nearly too weak to hold the glass, but Spring keeps her hands on it, helping me. The cold water cools my burning throat. For a moment, I fear I’m going to vomit again, but I don’t. It settles and so does my chaotic energy.

  I touch the Phoenix at my throat, and the citrines of the eyes buzz under my fingertips. I feel their energy working on my digestion, calming the rough seas of my stomach.

  “Did you see the future?” Winter asks.

  “The past. Mariel and Kaan again.”

  “But how?” Spring asks. “You weren’t touching them or anything of theirs.”

  “I must have a connection to her now. This one was bad. Really bad.”

  Spring sits next to me, taking the glass from my shaking hand. Winter leans against the sink. “Tell us,” she says.

  Hopper appears in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

  How many times has he asked me that the past two days? I feel sorry for him, feeling how palpable his worry is as he stands there not knowing what to do for me. Realizing there’s nothing he can do.

  “I will be.” I take another sip, hand the glass to Spring and rest my head on the wall, closing my eyes. “Mariel’s tied to the Master. In this vision, it came for her. And, it nearly got her. If it wasn’t for Kaan…”

  I sense Winter crouch near me. “What was he doing?”

  Like a dream, the bits and pieces seem to be scattering. “He was…killing her, but it was saving her.”

  Heavy silence descends and I flip my eyes open, afraid I’ve fallen into another vision. Everyone is still there, all of them looking at me as if waiting for an explanation.

  “I know that doesn’t make sense, but she wanted Kaan to do it in order to keep her from the demon. She said, ‘I’m the only one who got away’ and she kept calling it the beast.”

  “That’s how it was referred to in the journal,” Winter says. “The beast who rose from the earth and stole the people.”

  “Kaan called it that, too,” Hopper adds.

  “But the author of the journal and his sons weren’t taken.” I repeat some of my conversation with Mrs. Sorensen. “According to her, they were on a trip north when it happened.”

  “Mariel’s tied to the master,” Spring says. “But how would killing her keep her from him?”

  I rub the spot in the center of my chest, feeling the black magick clinging to me like a sticky substance. “Everything is backwards,” I murmur. “She survived when she should’ve died. Killing her saves her. The master wants her because she escaped him the first time.” I shake my head, not sure I’m making sense.

  Winter lays her hand over mine. “Summer, I haven’t finished reading yet, but two days after they returned, one of the kids found a baby in a cabin. A girl.”

  Parts of the story snap into place. “She survived when she should’ve died,” I repeat. “That was Mariel?” I meet Winter’s eyes. “The boy that found her, what was his name?”

  “The author of the journal only referred to his son with initials, A. E. Maybe that was the kid’s name.” she shrugs. “I mean the dad only used A as his first name.”

  “What about the other boy?” Spring asks.

  “Same. He referred to him as A. Jr.”

  “And the baby?” Hopper asks.

  Winter screws up her face. The blood is rushing in my ears. “The author referred to her as Mary Ellen.”

  My head is so full, it takes a second for the two names to click.

  As if helping me, Winter supplies, “Mariel. Mary Ellen.”

  “By the goddess” I swear softly.

  “The owner of the journal,” Hopper says. “What was his last name again?”

  “Finton,” Winter spells it out.

  “I need a piece of paper and a pencil.”

  He turns and Winter rushes after him. Spring helps me stand and we follow.

  By the time the two of us reach the kitchen, Winter is slapping a piece of scrap paper on the table.

  “What is it?” I ask Hopper.

  He spells out Fontaine, then Finton underneath it. He begins crossing out letters—f, n, t—everything they both contain. When he’s done, there are only two left.

  He circles each and raises the paper to show me.

  “A and E,” I murmur.

  He tosses the pencil down. “A.E Finton is Kaan Fontaine—the boy who found Mariel—Mary Ellen—still alive.”

  17

  I know why Kaan resorted to black magick. He’s spent the past three-hundred-plus years trying to keep Mariel out of the grip of the master.

  “Hestia help me,” I say, sitting at the kitchen table. I’m still weak and overwhelmed from what these two have done. Who Kaan and Mariel really are. “All these years, the Master has been coming after her again and again—the one who got away—and Kaan’s been trying to keep her alive, so it can’t have her.”

  “How is that possible?” Hopper asks.

  Poor guy. He has to be even more confused than the rest of us.

  “How is it she survived in the first place?” Winter adds.

  There are certainly more questions than answers. “They’re both cursed.” I pick up the pencil and retrace the letters above the last names. “He loved her so much, he did whatever it’d take to keep her from the demon. He had to be the one to kill her to keep her soul attached to his.”

  I’m totally winging it, but it seems right. “I don’t know for sure how many times they’ve done this, but I think something went wrong with this attempt. Either that, or Kaan still plans to raise her from the dead.”

  “So we’re saying these two people have been alive, or died and come back multiple times in the past three hundred years?” Spring asks.

  Our father paces next to me. “This is very dark magick. It’s not something I want you to mess with.”

  “But this could help us save Mom,” Spring says, a fierceness in her eyes. “If we can raise her and keep her from the demon—”

  “No.” Dad stops pacing, holds up both hands, and shakes his head. “What’s dead should stay dead. We will not bring your mother back to the land of the living. You must find a different way to release his hold on her.”

  “We need to talk to Fontaine,” I say.

  Hopper seems to be taking all of this in stride. “Where are the books?” he asks. “I’ll take them and the jewelry to Fontaine. Summer can come and ask questions.”

  Winter stands beside our father. “We know his secrets now; he won’t be happy. I have to agree with Dad, I don’t think we want to get involved with whatever it is they’ve been doing to raise her every time she dies. There’s something very twisted about all of it, and we can’t trust Kaan to tell the truth.”

  She’s right, but how can I let this go? I know Spring feels the same way. “If there’s any chance he can tell us more about the demon, it can only help our quest to save mom. I’ll promise we’ll leave him and Mariel alone. We won’t interfere with whatever dark magick they’re working, but he may know if there’s a way to save mom.”

  “If there was,” Dad says, “Don’t you think he would’ve used it already to save the woman he loves?”

  I never argue with my father—it’s a losing proposition—but today, I can’t seem to stop. “The key lies in why the demon didn’t get Mariel in the first place, I know it. If Kaan can tell us that, it may lead to the answers we need.”

  At this point, it’s Spring and I against Winter and Dad. I glance at Hopper. “You should bow out on this; in fact, I prefer you do. We’ve already put you in danger—I have. I don’t want you anywhere near this guy.”

  He reaches over and chucks me under the chin as if I’m a small child. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m too far in to let it go now. And there’s no way on God’s green earth I’m letting you walk into the lion’s den without me.”

  Winter shakes her head and gives an audible sigh. Telepathically, she says to me, you’re a fool if you don’t keep him. “I’ll get the books, but I’m not giving them to you until I’v
e read the rest of the journal. I want to know how it ends.”

  “How much more do you have?” Hopper asks.

  “Probably a hundred pages, so I should be done by tonight.”

  There’s no point in arguing or demanding she bring it now. She turns on her heel and walks out the back door, letting the screen smack hard. I hear the kittens on the porch. “Blood and bones, we forgot about them.”

  Hopper and I rush to take care of them. Dad disappears. Spring heads to the front to let Autumn know about everything that’s happened.

  As I sit with the kittens and Hopper on the porch, I slowly move the rocking chair and let the sun warm my cold bones. I fear my plan may backfire, but what choice do I have? If I want answers, the dark wizard is the only one who can give them to me.

  I pray to Hestia, my ancestors, and any other forces who might keep Hopper safe. I need all the help I can get.

  18

  I have two clients for energy sessions that afternoon. I consider canceling them, especially since I’m still weak and my brain is spinning in all kinds of crazy directions, but helping others is exactly what I need.

  When you give a healing, you get one. That’s one of the things my mother taught me. She had a gift for knowing what was wrong with people, and what could bring their bodies, emotions, and minds into alignment. That was the true path to prosperity, and she always told me—alignment with the universal Source of all life.

  My first is a woman in her thirties whose husband cheated on her. They have two young children, and although she loves him more than anything, she’s struggling to get over the heartbreak and trust him again.

  The emotional pain is leading her to have panic attacks. When she arrives, she’s breathing heavily, as though she’s run here instead of driving. Immediately, I get her on my table and have her close her eyes as I send an imaginary thread of energy from the back of her heart to the earth. Getting out of my own head so I can help her resets my energy, and I, too, send an imaginary cord into Mother Earth.

  Over the next hour, I place various crystals on her, focusing a lot on rose quartz and rhodonite around and on her chest. Selenite palm stones go in her hands and red jasper between her knees. I play soothing nature sounds and later on do a visualization to aid her heart.

  There are points where she cries from overwhelming emotions, and I hand her tissues. I invoke a beautiful green light to fill her and strengthen her soul, clearing out her heart chakra and filling it with love and compassion, forgiveness and strength. Her breathing returns to normal and even deepens.

  At the end, her tears have dried. We chat for several minutes and I get her some water. Her color is better, her energy levels strong again. She thanks me profusely and we set a date for the following month for her next session.

  My second client is a man in his fifties who’s lost his job, is overweight, and is fighting high blood pressure and diabetes. His wife insists he come to me to relax, if nothing else. He’s a grumpy old bugger, but I know he enjoys these appointments even though he claims to not believe in them.

  Once he’s on my table, I see his heart chakra is out of balance, along with his solar plexus. I use bloodstone, emerald, and chalcedony on and around him. I use my hands to bring light into his system, activating the stones, cleaning his blood and helping the flow of his fluids. It also supports his digestive tract. He falls asleep, and his snores echo in the room. I smile to myself. Rest is the best medicine to bring the body into alignment.

  I text Winter when I’m done to see how she’s doing. She doesn’t return it, meaning she’s not finished reading the journal.

  My head is clear now and I feel stronger, thanks to the healings. I hope I can keep this clarity dealing with Fontaine. I need to decide how to contact him and where to tell him I’ll leave the stuff. The thing is, I need to talk to him, too. I have too many questions only he can answer.

  I take time to post to our social media accounts, like comments, respond where necessary, and help Spring when she gets busy.

  Autumn is babysitting the kittens. Hopper went back to his shop. Since we have Fontaine’s ultimatum to return Mariel’s items by the end of the day, I figure Hopper’s probably safe for now. Fontaine won’t risk hurting him if he thinks he’ll get his possessions tonight.

  After completing my work, I feed the kittens and ignore Godfrey as he follows me, berating me for my inability to think through what I’m doing with the dark wizard. After I ask what his solution would be, and why my mother was dabbling in dark magick, he falls silent and disappears. Big help he is, genius reincarnated…not. After all, he was her familiar. He must know what she was doing.

  Closing time is just around the corner as I sit in the office to search online for a number to call Kaan. I may not be as smart as Godfrey but I’m not willing to go to Fontaine’s property again. Like my original plan, I intend to draw him to a neutral location.

  He wants Mariel’s things; I want answers. I believe we can come to a compromise, but just in case, I want things stacked in my favor.

  My search turns up blank. There’s no listing for Kaan and Mariel Fontaine. Perhaps they only use cells, but I find nothing for those either, only the address for their house.

  Outside of Mariel’s obituary, there’s no more information. This makes me suspicious. They must’ve really been introverts, and considering what I believe about them, that doesn’t surprise me. How awful it must be to die and come back to life, knowing all your friends and family are gone. That any aquaintances you make now will pass before you do.

  Mrs. Sorensen. She claimed to be friends with Mariel and she’s still alive.

  I call her, and she answers after a couple rings. “Summer! I was just thinking about you. My friend, Karen, is having health trouble. I wonder if you have time in your schedule to see her for a session soon.”

  “Of course, I’ll check my calendar.” I already know I’m booked the next six weeks, but maybe I’ll have a cancellation and can squeeze Karen in. “Say, do you have the Fontaine’s number?”

  “They never had a landline. Mariel hated phones, said the ringing always startled her so bad she’d have heart palpitations. She was very eccentric like that.”

  “How about a cell?”

  “No, they didn’t have those either. Or computers. I guess, since they didn’t have any family, they didn’t really see the need for that stuff.”

  “What about for emergencies?”

  “Odd, I know. Even I’m not that far out of touch, but that’s how they were.” She hesitates a second. “Summer, what’s going on?”

  I consider whether I should make up another lie about the house. Maybe it’s better to just avoid any sort of explanations. Besides, I suck at lying. “How did you get messages to her?”

  “We chatted practically every morning, walking the trail that runs behind our homes. I couldn’t always go far because of the arthritis, but on a good day, we could walk for miles. It was wonderful exercise. Talked about pretty much everything under the sun. You would’ve thought we could fix all the world’s problems with the ideas we had.”

  “What trail?”

  “It’s really nothing more than a footpath at the back of the properties. It starts half a mile or so northwest of my property and runs almost to your hot spring, passing the public park. I believe your sister runs on it with her dog—I see them occasionally. At one time it probably went all the way to your place, right through the national forest behind the Harrington Farm, but once they put in those new condos on the edge of town, it got cut off.”

  I make a note on the paper in front of me. Park. That might be a good place to meet. “Huh. I didn’t know that.”

  “What is it you need to call Kaan for, my dear? You know, I can walk to his house and deliver a message if that would help.”

  “Hopper accidentally got some of Mariel’s personal belongings at an estate auction over the weekend. I’ll just drive by later and drop them off. No big deal. Thanks.”

  I
abruptly say goodbye and disconnect. The last thing I need is for Mrs. Sorensen to get involved in all of this.

  Sitting to think for a moment, I draw circles around the word park, then call the realtor. She should have a way to get a message to Fontaine.

  Her phone goes directly to voicemail and I debate leaving a message since she may be off work already. Depending on when she checks her messages, it might not get to Kaan in time.

  Autumn appears at my right shoulder. “You know, I could project to his house and tell him to meet you at the park, or wherever you decide.”

  Startled, I whip my head around to look at her. “Are you reading my mind?”

  She laughs. “I heard you talking to Mrs. Sorensen, and you circled the word park.”

  Her idea isn’t bad, to be honest. “This may sound paranoid, but what if he’s able to trap your astral self there? His skills are impressive, and who knows what he has up his sleeve? Could be too dangerous.”

  “This whole thing is,” my sister says.

  She and I look at each other, contemplating the best way to avoid it. Needless to say, neither of us seems to have a remedy.

  Winter squeezes into the small office, a stack of books in hand. “Finished. Some pretty interesting stuff in this journal, but Merlin’s beard, it’s a hard one to read. The way they spoke and wrote during that time period is plain weird.”

  Autumn tidies a collection of invoices in our product fulfillment basket. I’m falling behind on shipping product orders, and a new layer of guilt is added to my current one. Depending on how things go with Fontaine later, I better come back here and get caught up.

  “Anything we should know before we return it?” Autumn asks.

  “If I had time, I’d copy the journal so I could review it in more depth,” Winter says. “The stuff about the colony is fascinating, but unfortunately there isn’t as much about the people as there is the animals and plants. He did mention an old woman who lived alone in one of the cabins. Might’ve been mine, by the way he described it near the forest line. She was apparently deep in the woods the day everyone disappeared, and the beast didn’t get her either.