by E M Lacey
“Close your eyes.”
Aurora obeyed.
The gel exploded into a gritty cloud of dust. Little fingers wiped it off her eyelids. “You can open them now.”
Aurora did so, with caution. She sat up and smiled as a swarm of what looked like tiny spectral demons tore into Enoch. She wasn’t afraid or put off by the rain of blood his thrashing body showered throughout the room.
She looked away from the morbid dance to the little girl in a very blue tube top and blue jean shorts. They were shingled at the bottoms which ended just past her thighs. The girl had to be no older than ten. She was gray with a thin mist fraying the edges of her form. She was barefoot and her feet were caked with mud. Her hair was in a big Afro puff, secured with a ragged blue yarn ribbon.
“Who are you?”
“Evangeline Dixon.”
Aurora’s eyes narrowed. The name sounded familiar, but she hadn’t heard it enough for it to stick to a specific memory.
“Blood calls to blood.” The girl pointed at the bleeding cuts and gashes on Aurora’s arms and legs. Some still had splinters of varying sizes in them.
“We’re kin.”
Evangeline nodded.
“I didn’t call you.”
“Blood calls to blood. We protect our own.” Evangeline moved in front of her. The other spectral creatures mimicked her actions. She looked toward the splintered door and saw the reason. Sunni, Mr. Myer, and Pyra filled it. Only Sunni had her staff aimed at her, and the magic was visible.
“You’re behind this,” Sunni hissed.
Aurora threw up her hands, vigorously shaking her head. “No! No! I didn’t do this!” She searched the room for Enoch. A misshapen lump lay off to the right near a toppled book shelf. She pointed at what was left of him. “He snatched me out of the safe room. He was going to kidnap me. I ran away from him in the only direction I had.” She waved her hands frantically at the room. “I ended up here.”
Sunni jabbed her staff in her direction. “The box is open. The spirits are here and they are shielding you.”
Aurora’s voice rose. “I didn’t tell them to do it!”
Evangeline motioned for her to be calm and stepped forward. “Blood calls to blood.” She waved her hand at Aurora. “She is my niece. She was in distress and her blood had already been shed.”
Sunni spun her staff and set it upright. The magic dimmed. “Blood is stronger than magic.”
Evangeline nodded solemnly. “I could let no harm come to her. Not while I am here.”
“What are you?”
“Dead.”
Sunni made a face.
“I am Indentured.” She turned away from them, returned to the box, and crouched before it. “I serve the one who sealed the box and its occupants.”
“Do you know who sealed the box?”
Evangeline shook her head slowly. “I don’t remember much about my living days. I know the box. Being called and returned.”
A loud rush of footsteps approached. Thurgood entered through the shredded doorway, waving his cellphone. “Something’s happened to Alba!”
Montague met him. “What’s happened?”
Thurgood pointed at the spirit box. His gaze shifted to the deformed mound behind Montague. “What...”
Montague waved his hands in Thurgood’s face and snapped his fingers. “I’ll explain later. Everything is okay now. What happened to Alba? Is Alex okay?”
He nodded, still fixated on the corpse. “Abigail called. She said they’re taking her to Bridgette’s place.”
“Where’s that?”
“Keeper’s Cove,” Sunni interjected. “I know where it is.”
Thurgood unlocked his phone and pulled up his map app. “What’s the address? I need to get over there.”
Sunni held her hand out for the phone, which Thurgood surrendered. “It doesn’t have an address.” Her eyes glowed amethyst. She tapped the screen, feeding the directions into the app, then handed it back to Thurgood.
“Follow the directions. Do not close the app. Do not worry about the life of your battery, since the directions are powered by magic.”
Thurgood thanked her, then looked to Montague. “Would you like to come with us?”
“No. I can’t. One of us has to run the office.”
Thurgood wished Montague luck then vanished through the broken doorway. Simultaneously, all of them turned back to Aurora and Evangeline. The spirit box shone. “What are we going to do about this?”
Evangeline pointed to Montague. “Have him bear witness,” she swung her finger between Pyra and Sunni, “while you two perform a Telling Spell.”
“Why are you doing this?” Montague took a step toward Evangeline.
Evangeline looked back at the other Indentured then back to Sunni. “None of us wished to be like this. We want more than anything to be free. If our story is made known, maybe you can find a way to free us.”
Pyra leaned toward Sunni. “Can we trust her?”
Sunni waved her staff at the small army of Indentured surrounding Aurora then at Enoch’s corpse. “If they were up to no good, we would have been reduced to that the moment we came into this office.”
Pyra studied the frozen forms. They stared with unblinking eyes. Some had black holes in that space. Pyra sensed no malevolence. She sensed no treachery.
“Ghosts shouldn’t be able to do that.” She jerked her head at Enoch’s remains.
“We’re not exactly ghosts.” Evangeline motioned to the other Indentured, who began walking into the box. She looked over her shoulder. “I’ll be back when you cast the Telling Spell.” She grabbed Aurora’s hands and gave them a squeeze, then stepped into the box.
Chapter Twelve
Abigail watched the scenery pass. It was beautiful but her fear darkened it. So much had happened in such a short time. Everything was a mess. Her uncle’s firm was in jeopardy, Alba was in danger (again), and something was happening to her.
She held out trembling hands, turning them over, unsure of what she was looking for. She’d caused the cellphones to heat up in those people’s hands. She’d wanted them to explode. If she was being honest, she wanted the rainbow Mohawk guy hurt.
She curled her hands and lay them on her lap. Anger was an ember. It sparked in little things. She was angry at her uncle for not letting her test for magic. She was angry at Bridgette for listening to him and not teaching her everything during their transitional training. She was angry at whatever had torn up the office. The vampire for being such an ass, and the vile woman who’d delivered the summons.
Heat penetrated her skirt, drawing her gaze to her curled hands. They glowed. Tiny tendrils of smoke rose. She withdrew them and gave them a shake. Her gaze darted to the rearview mirror. McKellen and Julius leaned in, whispering to each other. Music played. The volume was low and the genre was classic rock. She shifted her gaze toward Alex, who stared intently out the window. She lifted her arm occasionally to dry her eyes with the collar of her sundress.
Abigail again returned her hands in her lap. The glow had subsided. She ran her fingers across the fabric. It was crisp. Being that hunter green was such a dark color, no one would notice outright the little burn mark unless they stared. If someone was staring, especially either of the hunters, then that would be another conversation altogether.
Abigail glanced over at Alba, whose head rested against the window. She was unconscious. A little of her color had returned but she was far from normal. What did the vampire’s people want with her? She was just a child.
She dug her fingers into her legs. What was happening to her? Was it magic or something else?
Abigail buried her right hand into her hair, which she had set free. She caught her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her hair with its wild spirals looked like a molten halo around her face. She looked away.
Magic was fascinating, in books, watching someone who possessed it manipulate it, but what she was feeling, if it was magic, it didn’t feel so great. In t
he parking lot, she’d felt the heat gather under the soles of her feet. It passed through her veins, riding her blood, then gathered to do her bidding when she wished the cellphones would stop. The moment the thought formed; the cellphones ignited.
A sudden shift in terrain drew her gaze to the window. They traveled under a canopy of deep green. Spots of sunlight peeked through. Leaves crunched under tires as McKellen pulled off the main road. A dirt path wide enough for the truck to maneuver through, opened up once they passed a very large oak tree and began to descend a hill.
“Your destination is on the right, in three hundred feet,” the GPS announced.
Abigail craned her neck, searching for Bridgette’s home. It was supposed to be a virtual treasure trove of knowledge. At least the kind she’d always been curious about.
“You’ve reached your destination.”
McKellen parked the truck beside a cluster of trees at the base of the hill. He killed the engine, pulled the keys out, then twisted in his seat to address them.
“Alright, ladies, we’ve arrived at the first portion of our journey.”
Both Abigail and Alex looked around, confused, then looked to McKellen for clarification.
“Why don’t we all get out and I’ll explain?”
Julius was already out and had the door open for Alex. Abigail reached across Alba and tried the door handle with no success. Child-proof locks. McKellen pulled the door open just as she moved away from it. He unbuckled Alba and lifted her out of the truck. Abigail took care of her own seat belt then slid from the truck.
McKellen led them around the truck toward a small lake that was parallel to where they parked. He didn’t break his stride until he stood at the water’s edge.
“We are guests of Knowledge Custodians Bridgette and Cora. May we enter?”
The space in front of McKellen shimmered. Abigail could see a cobblestone walkway and at the end of it was a cottage with a beautiful garden. McKellen stepped through. Julius followed and Alex was right behind him. Abigail lingered in the gateway, marveling at the cool touch of magic. She ran her finger along the edge. It tickled the tips of her fingers.
“Yo, Firecracker! I think you need to step it up.”
Abigail didn’t linger in confusion for long as the gateway began to close in on her. She quickly walked through, not stopping until she caught up with the group. McKellen announced that it would take them ten minutes if no one dallied. When he said the word “dallied” he looked at her and dragged out the word.
She saluted him, motioning for him to lead the way. The small band moved single-file down the cobblestone path, oblivious to the crimson-red Bentley cresting the hill just as the gateway sealed shut.
Chapter Thirteen
Aurora sat calmly in the middle of the pentagram Pyra drew around her. She held the spirit box in her lap. Not because she wanted to, but she was instructed to do it. Mr. Myer salvaged a file cabinet and a chair top. He set them against the wall near the splintered remains of Thurgood’s door, which stabilized it. He set a digital recorder on the floor to the left of his seat. His cellphone peeked from Pyra’s back pocket. She had shed her cloak, revealing everyday street clothes: blue jeans and a Harry Potter t-shirt with a cartoon version of Hagrid on the front. She rose slowly, pressing the heels of her hands into her lower back. Her sandy blond hair was done up in a ponytail which bobbed every time she moved. She pivoted then returned the chalk to Sunni, who still pointed her staff at Aurora.
Aurora examined the pentagram. It wasn’t one she’d seen before. She had seen a few carved in cemetery trees next to the graves of women believed to be witches. Most were awkward circles with a five-pointed star at its center. The tips of the stars were the only part piercing the circle. Always there would be gibberish scribbled around or along the lining of the pentagrams, none of it legitimate. She’d asked her grandmother about it. She would know. She’d tracked witches for hunters. She recognized sigils. She taught Aurora the art of defensive Scripting.
“Words are power. You don’t need magic to stand against it.” It was her grandma’s motto. Aurora believed it. She’d seen her do it. Her mother too.
The pentagram around her was similar to the ones she knew, only there were ten eyes, one eye for each point of the star. The eyes were larger at the outer tips of the pentagram. Pyra had written Indentured, Aurora’s and Evangeline’s names on the inside of the northern part of the circle. Moist heat filled the circle, which surprised her. She expected it to be cold. The dead were always cold except the recently deceased. They were hard to detect. They still felt real.
“What happens now?” Aurora stared at her name.
Pyra sat at the northern point of the pentagram directly behind Aurora. Pyra took out the phone and adjusted the pop socket, which served as a tripod. She set the phone app to video, set the timer to start recording at the predetermined time, then sat legs crossed, hands perched on each knee.
Sunni sat on the southern end in the same way, only she lay her staff in her lap. “We’ll find out the truth about what is inside the box and learn more about you.”
“But I told you what I know. I don’t know anything about the box. I’m just a paralegal from Florida. My mom was a medium on the weekends and evenings, if the price was right, and a preschool teacher by day.”
Aurora pointed at Montague. “You can check with him. I know he had a background check run on me. I have no criminal record.”
“I understand, but please see things from our perspective. This box is the only thing inside the office. It was not here when the staff left. Its presence in the midst of this destruction...” Sunni let her words settle. “The spirits inside rose to your defense.”
“And I told you I don’t know why. I don’t see why I have to explain anything. The ghost already told you.”
Sunni raised her hand, palm facing Aurora. “Peace. Don’t fret, Aurora. This is also a knowledge-seeking method. The box.” Sunni waved her hand at it. “It’s the first I’ve ever seen. The magical communities are aware of them, but their use is rare. So rare that this is only the second one to be documented. The first ever spirit-box finding was recorded on scrolls.”
Aurora’s mouth fell open.
“We have to learn about the box, and you.”
Aurora pointed to herself. “Me? What about me?”
“I can’t scent-detect any magic in you. If anything, I’ve only noticed sickness.”
Montague looked up sharply.
Aurora tugged at the bottom of her shirt. “I can explain that...”
Sunni held up her hand again, shaking her head slowly. “Don’t. I think I know why I sense sickness. This session should make things clear.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I want to see if you can call out the spirit, Evangeline.” Sunni gestured toward the spirit box in Aurora’s lap.
“Okay.”
“I will also want to test how connected you are with the box,” Sunni added.
“I’m not connected to it.” Aurora knew it was a lie when she said it. The moment she entered the room she’d felt it. Earlier with Abigail, it sang her name, and now that it was sitting in her lap, it practically purred.
“Are you ready?” Pyra clapped her hands together, startling Aurora.
“No.”
Sunni raised her arms straight in front of her, palms out. Pyra mimicked the move.
“Spirits of truth and knowledge, come forth. Help your daughters gain insight on the items before us.” Sunni pointed first at the box, then at Aurora, who bristled at being referenced as an item.
“Truth we seek. Truth shall be revealed.” Sunni and Pyra pointed at the eye in front of them. “Bring the truth to light, let no falsehood taint our session. Enlighten us on Aurora’s connection with the spirit box, her power, innocence, or guilt.” The pentagram flared to life. Bright white light replaced the chalk lines. Three-dimensional, near lifelike eyes rose, then spun to face the interior. The one on the south end st
ared at her.
“Now, Aurora, summon the spirit from the box.”
Aurora frowned. “I don’t know what I did.” As soon as the question left her mouth, a vision of her running away from Enoch surfaced. She had crashed through the pocket door, breaking it. The wood cut into her skin. She rained blood in her wake.
Blood!
Aurora held out her arms. Splinters were still inside. Sunni refused to touch or treat her until the spell was done. She pulled one from her forearm. Fresh blood welled. She flipped the arm so the blood could drip on the box then closed her eyes. Something inside her peeled back, then she reached out.
Evangeline. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I need you to help me.
Gray smoke formed a small ball which spread rapidly into a humanoid cloud. Once the shape settled, Evangeline’s features smoothed out.
“What’s wrong, niece?”
Aurora opened her eyes and pointed at Sunni. “She has questions.”
Evangeline sat directly in front of Aurora then met Sunni’s eyes. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you do this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evangeline held up her arms then pointed both index fingers at her forehead. Ugly red sigils and runes covered her arms. Her left arm had the address of the firm, the right had a name Sunni didn’t recognize on it. The word immortuos was carved on the left side of her forehead, while the word servus was carved on the right.
“I was commanded to.”
“By who?” Sunni asked.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Immortuos servus. It’s Latin for undead servant,” Pyra chimed in. “Every slave knows their master.”
Evangeline’s head turned on her neck like an owl’s in Pyra’s direction. The temperature inside the pentagram dropped. “Plantation owners sent buyers to purchase slaves at the auction. Most never knew or saw their masters.”
“They knew the Master’s name.”
Evangeline snorted. “What you know of slavery is from stories and movies. You’ve never been Indentured. If the master wishes for us not to know him, we don’t.” She held out her arm. “We only have this.”
