Of Spirits and Superstition

by Nyx Halliwell

  In my mind’s eye, I see Ronan’s face smiling at me and return it. We didn’t have much time together, but it meant everything to me.

  The last of my spirit is waning, I feel it starting to blink out, like a star dying. With the last of what I can conjure of my magick, I reach for the portal.

  The demon realizes a second too late what I’m doing and releases the flood of evil he has spread into me.

  He tosses me aside to keep it open. I struggle to hang onto him, sending more magick to doorway, feeling an unpleasant tug at the center of my chest.

  In the span of a heartbeat, everyone’s magick is pushing, surging to join mine. My sisters, my mother, my father. All the familiars, as well as my friends, the members of my father’s tribe. Prue and Alexander.

  I even feel an unfamiliar tug…the souls of people I don’t know. Intertwined with that unknown spirit energy, that of my ancestors. The five grandmothers.

  It’s as if…

  My ancient grandmothers, so wise, so filled with power—way beyond what my sisters and I have—begins to fill me up. The portal continues to close, the master’s evil energy rails and fights against it, like a person would a door closing in their face.

  I find myself speaking words I don’t know.

  It’s an ancient spell in another language. My brain doesn’t recognize it, but in my soul, I understand the raw power each word holds.

  Combined with the new magick of the ley lines and what’s being sent to me from everyone, I realize I’m suddenly as powerful—if not more so—as this evil I’m fighting.

  I don’t have to fake my bravado. Don’t have to pretend to be this monster’s equal.

  I am.

  “You can’t escape,” I say. The words come out in the old language. The evil shifts and moves around me, that sticky, syrupy energy examining the new me. Sniffing at my power. It slides off my aura, the beautiful, white magick of my ancestors, my family, repelling it with ease.

  “You cannot… defeat me…”

  For the first time, I believe we can.

  “Your days on Earth are over.” I realize in this container, this void, it’s now my voice that booms and echoes. “Your reign of terror here is done, and I want you to be sure and remember who put you here.”

  The evil throws itself at the portal, but a membrane—a veil of sorts—covers it. Evil cannot walk through it, but I’m pretty sure I can.

  At least, I pray I can.

  My spirit floats toward it and the demon’s claws thrust out, trying to stop me. I raise my hands, channeling Summer’s fire. Feeling the flow of Spring’s freezing ability. I send both flaming heat and freezing cold at him, administering the power that the Whitethorne sisters hold.

  As the claws strike at me again, I use Autumn’s telekinesis to smack them away. The master has no true shape—he can become anything, anyone. When these efforts fail, I’m not surprised when he once again takes Ronan’s form.

  I’m about to step into the 3-D dimension, passing right through that membrane over the portal when I pause. “You never should have messed with my mother,” I tell him. “And Merlin’s beard, you really shouldn’t have messed with my boyfriend.”

  The master gives me one of Ronan’s grins. “All I needed was for you to hesitate.”

  Faster than a ticking second, I know what he’s going to do, but I’m ready for it. The smart thing to do would be to simply cross the veil, drop out of this container and back to my real life. But even there, I’ll still be a ghost. I have no idea how to return to my body.

  And I’m pretty tired of the master trying to manipulate and use me.

  Before his magick leaves the end of Ronan’s fingertips, I blast him again—a furnace of heat, a blizzard of cold. I knock him off his feet and send him skittering into the darkness.

  “Without any souls to feed on, you’ll suffer a slow death. I hope it’s absolutely agonizing.”

  Without warning, Persephone pops in, brushing at her clothes—Wonder Woman, of all things—as if she just took a tumble down a hill or something. “Oh, here you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  She glances around the pocket of nothingness, the demon burning up inside an ice block. “Can we wrap this up? I want to get home in time to watch I Love Lucy. It’s my new binge.”

  With a conceding sigh, I let the magick tugging at my heart bring me home.

  22

  Two days later. I’m still floating around as a ghost. My body lies on the bed in my cabin.

  Mother crossed over. I have found most of the souls the master kidnapped and managed to cross them, too. Mama Nightengale helped, since Ava had to fly home.

  There are still a few, hovering in the woods, who don’t understand what’s happened, or that it’s not the sixteen hundreds. The disembodied ghost of Abigail has left the shop and hangs out with them. None of them believe they’re gone, and when they see me appearing in front of them, they scream at the top of their ghostly lungs and run. It would be funny, if it wasn’t for the fact, well, I’m a ghost!

  I feel extremely frustrated by this. All my witchy powers, all the new magick of the ley lines, and I still haven’t found a way to return to my physical form. Mama N, Prue, and Kaan have tried different things, along with my father, all to no avail. Not even another séance with the mimosa did the trick.

  The altars at the points of the pentagram are still in place, and my sisters and I have been putting offerings on them since we closed the portal and eliminated the demon. Not because we think he’s coming back, but because we are so incredibly thankful for all the help we had, in this world and the unseen one.

  Our grandmothers have faded away, but I feel their invisible spirits lingering. I’ve tried talking to them, but none have taken up the conversation.

  Neither has Mom.

  I imagine being in the afterlife takes getting used to. One of these days, I know she’ll appear when I least expect it, telling me of the fabulous reunion she’s having with her parents, her grandmothers and aunts.

  Several times I’ve seen the light, but avoided it. I bop in and startle my sisters just for fun, and Ronan comes to see me every day. We stroll through the woods or sit in front of my fireplace and talk.

  He’s practicing his shifting, and I enjoy watching. Tala and my dad are planning a Yule ceremony, even though we are two days past the official holiday. We were a little busy then, and it seems like a good idea to celebrate after what we pulled off.

  As a spirit, time definitely moves differently. One moment, I’m drifting over the snow and watching people coming and going from Conjure, and the next I’m at the kitchen table in the back, laughing with my sisters as they share a meal. It feels like memory lapses, and they upset me.

  I’ve found my ability to drop into other dimensions has diminished. The energy and magick surrounding me when I went into the container seems to have created quite an anchor for me in this world.

  If only it had anchored me back in my body.

  This evening, my sisters and their soulmates gather in my cabin, sharing hot cocoa and discussing the Yule celebration taking place in Conjure the next evening. Spring brought Yule log cakes, gingerbread cookies, and her special holiday candies. They laugh and tease and manage to spill cocoa while wrapping last-minute gifts for Dad and Tala.

  Storm and Hale drop by, as do Prue and Alexander, all bearing food, drinks, and gifts, and before you know it, we’re having a party.

  At my place. Will wonders never cease?

  I’m the only one who can’t enjoy the drinks or food, but I don’t mind. Seeing everyone happy makes me happy. The future looks bright for all of them.

  Shade nestles next to Godfrey in front of the fireplace. He’s quite offended and puts distance between them before lying back down, nearly crushing Snow. Several of her kittens don’t seem to mind and crowd Shade in support. She rests her head and quickly falls asleep.

  I feel restless, wondering if my body will slowly wither and die. I’ve accepted
the fact I’m going to be a ghost from here on out, but watching it turn to dust freaks me out a little.

  I’m hanging back, hovering in the kitchen, watching my sisters and the others finish wrapping when Persephone appears, sitting on the counter in her favorite spot. She’s in an I Dream of Jeanie outfit, complete with harem pants and pointy silk shoes. “Why aren’t you in there with them?” she asks.

  I shrug. “I am in spirit. Can’t you tell?”

  She makes a snarky sound at the joke. “Oh, sleeping beauty.” Her gaze darts to my bedroom. She can probably see through walls to my body lying in the bed. “Maybe it’s time you crossed the veil and hung out with your Mom and ancestors.”

  “I’m not ready.”

  She smirks. “Now you know how it feels for some who come to you for help.”

  “I still have a job to do,” I argue. “There’s at least a dozen souls wandering the woods. Eventually, I’ll get through to them, make them understand.”

  She nods but I can tell her heart isn’t in it. “You did a good thing here.”

  “Thanks for your help.” At her disbelieving look, I continue. “I’m serious. You’re not the easiest spirit guide to get along with, but you came through in the end. I’ll always appreciate it.”

  She eyes me with suspicion. “Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

  “I’m a spirit now. You need to help another human, don’t you?” There’s probably a little too much hope in my voice.

  She snickers and taps her chest with a thumb. “Spirit guide. You’re a spirit, I’m a guide, get it? I don’t think I’m going anywhere for a while. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  She’s not sorry, and I realize deep down, I’m not either. “Well, if you’re hanging around, the least you could do is figure out a way to get me back in my body.”

  She raises both hands. “That’s above my pay grade, remember?”

  An hour or so later—time doesn’t mean much to me right now—my cabin is empty except for me and my physical form. I’ve become more agile at acting human even though I’m not, and I sit in the rocking chair and look at myself. This might actually be my permanent state, and I’m trying to come to grips with it.

  Coyote, in human form, appears at the foot of the bed, also studying my form. “Thank you for saving me.”

  Persephone was right—Coyote was held against his will by one of the master’s minions, a demon who managed to trap him after leaving Ronan in a coma.

  I truthfully believed nothing could ever harm a spirit guide, but apparently, I was wrong.

  This is the first time Coyote and I have spoken since I locked up the master, effectively disconnecting him from his minions, including the one who attacked Tala. Cutting off the head of the snake worked to eliminate them as well. Evil all over the planet took a hit when I stuffed that demon into the container, many of his evil-doers going up in smoke.

  “You know, not only did I save you,” I say, teasingly self-righteous, “but I eliminated the master and saved the world. I would think I could call on a higher power to reward me, don’t you?”

  He turns to look at me, and his face is almost embarrassed. “About that…I think you’ve actually been working with a higher power.”

  My sisters and I work with goddess energy, of course, but I have a feeling he’s talking about something different. “What?”

  His gaze darts away, and his hands go into the front pockets of his worn jeans. “You know that new spirit guide of yours?”

  My brain stutters a little as his words—his meaning—registers. “No.”

  He nods. “Buzz in the spirit guide world is, she’s got a direct line to Source.”

  Source. God. Universal Consciousness. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

  He gives me a half-hearted smile. “I think most humans would call her an angel.”

  I stop rocking. “That can’t be. I mean…” I point toward the kitchen—the last place Persephone was. Then I look back at him. “If she’s an angel, I’m—”

  A knock at the door interrupts my conclusion. Coyote smiles more fully now. “She has her faults, but she’s pretty smart. I think she told you exactly how to get back in your body. Spirits guides are guides; they can’t tell you what to do or give you the answers. That would be messing with free will. But we offer signs and symbols, little hints. You might want to review your earlier conversation with her.”

  He winks and disappears as fast as he came. The person at the door knocks again.

  Using my ghostly powers, I shift from the bedroom toward it. I can’t actually open the door, but I know who’s on the other side. “Come in, Ronan.”

  He does, stomping his boots and brushing my noncorporeal lips with his. Snowflakes melt in his hair as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the hook. “Hello, beautiful.”

  My heart melts. What am I going to do with this man? There’s no future for us—I’m a ghost after all. “What are you doing here?” I ask as brightly as I can.

  He holds up a bag. “I brought you something.”

  “Let me guess. Bananas.”

  He laughs. “Nope. Something better.”

  From the bag, he withdraws a fat sprig of mistletoe decorated with a red bow.

  Previously, seeing something like this would have made my heart speed up. Now, I feel confused. “I hate to state the obvious, but I’m a ghost. Your lips will go right through me.”

  He tosses the bag aside and heads for the bedroom. “I’m getting a real kiss for Christmas, so don’t try to stop me.”

  “It’s Christmas? Oh, that’s right.” I follow, that spark between us glowing in my chest. Who cares if I’m in spirit form? What can it hurt to let him kiss me—the 3-D me—under the mistletoe? “I keep forgetting what day it is, they all run together.”

  He stops next to the bed, holding the mistletoe over my head. “No worries. You can check in with me anytime you forget. That’s what I’m here for. As long as your spirit wants to hang around, I’m hanging around with you.”

  I wonder how long that will last. It won’t be easy having a relationship with a ghost.

  As if Persephone has stepped in and smacked me upside the head, I hear her words from before. Oh, sleeping beauty. On the heels of that, comes what Coyote said about her hints.

  “Ready?” Ronan asks, starting to lean over.

  “Blood and bone,” I say softly. Am I like Sleeping Beauty, needing her prince to kiss her in order to wake her up?

  Ronan glances at me, concern replacing his joy. “Wait? Are you not okay with this?”

  If I were in my human body, I’d be trembling. I motion for him to go ahead. “I think this might work.”

  He still looks a touch confused. “Might work to what?”

  “To return my spirit to my body. Persephone said…and then Coyote…oh, never mind. Just kiss me, will you?”

  His brows furrow, and he shakes his head. “As long as I have your permission.”

  I flap my hands at him. “Yes, you have my permission! Do it, already!”

  With exquisite tenderness, he leans down, bracing his other hand beneath my head. He lowers his lips and says, “Winter Whitethorne, I love you.”

  And he kisses me.

  23

  We always have Christmas in the cabin, although we celebrate on Yule. It’s a similar thing, with presents and special food and drink. Spring has an evergreen in a bucket we decorate and transplant outside once the ground unfreezes. We play carols, and do a nice merging of Yule and Christmas together.

  Tonight will be no different, but I have a special surprise for my family.

  Ronan’s kiss is absolutely magickal, and I don’t mean the type my sisters and I use. It’s something I’ve never felt with anyone.

  Love. Not a mother’s, not a father’s, not even the intense bond I have with my siblings, which can be one of the strongest in the world. This love? This is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.

  When his lips touched mine, an explosio
n went off in my ghost body. My spirit felt more alive than it ever had in the physical world. I could actually feel his lips on mine, the love flowing from him into me, as if we were connected heart to heart.

  It was in that moment, when I was still two separate entities, that I realized what true magick is about. It’s not spells or charms. It’s not ley lines. Not jumping between dimensions or stopping time.

  Ronan’s kiss incorporated all of that and more. It was the embodiment of magick, of true power.

  I knew right then, that even if I never returned to my body, experiencing this moment with him made up for all of it.

  When it was over, I was still a ghost, my body unmoving on the bed. My heart sank, and I saw the disappointment on his face as well.

  He looked up at me. “Sorry. I guess it didn’t work.

  I started to answer, to tell him it was okay, when a shudder went through me. The connection to my heart, to my soul, seemed to expand, and all of a sudden, I felt my heartbeat. “Something’s happening.”

  He froze in place. “Something good or something bad? You’re not…leaving me, are you?”

  “No, there’s no light, just—” I looked directly at him, feeling something tugging hard at my spirit. “Ronan?”

  There was a flash, and I heard him call my name. The next thing I knew, I felt heavy, weighted. Everything was dark.

  “Winter!” A hand patted my face, shook my shoulders. “Winter. Wake up.”

  My eyelids felt as though I had rocks pinning them down. I managed to slit one open and saw Ronan staring down at me. I tried to say his name, but my lips felt like parchment paper, my tongue dry.

  But I was back! My spirit was in my body, and my heart leapt for joy.

  It took a minute to fully wake, another thirty for Ronan to get me into a sitting position.

  Water never tasted so good. The smell of my cabin never reassured me more. As I looked lovingly at all of my stuff, and my boyfriend, I sent up a silent thank you to Persephone and her hint. Maybe this relationship with my new spirit guide would work out after all.