by R. L. King
“Most of them?” Verity asked, coming up alongside them. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“It’s quite all right. I need something to take my mind off what’s going on up there, anyway.”
She nodded and joined them at the window. “What did you mean, most of them? Are some not like that?”
Stone shrugged. “It’s quite rare. Usually when you see a more fully-formed personality in an echo, it’s someone who’s magically talented. And that almost never happens. I’ve literally never heard a credible example of a mage leaving an echo. If anyone had both a reason and the power to do it, Desmond would have been an ideal candidate. But he didn’t.”
“So…you’re saying it’s probably a myth.”
“I’m saying it’s unlikely in this case.”
“What about…whatever was in the coffin in the sealed room?”
“Damned good question.”
“Do you think it might have stirred the others up?”
“It’s possible, certainly. But one interpretation of the maps we found in the box today is that whatever was in that chamber might have been imprisoned later, after the sacrifices were already made. Maybe even after they were long dead.”
“But we don’t know that. Maybe they just didn’t include the chamber on the map because they wanted to keep it even more of a secret than the rest of what they did in there.”
“Could be. With any luck, Ms. Willoughby will be able to make contact with some of them, and they can give us more data.”
“Sir…” Aubrey ventured. “Do you think she might make contact with whatever was in that chamber you mentioned?”
Stone considered. “I’m not sure whether I hope that does happen, or it doesn’t.” He pushed off from where he’d been gripping the window frame and yanked his phone from his pocket. “Bugger it, I just want them to tell me something.”
But the phone remained silent for nearly another thirty minutes. When it finally buzzed, startling Jason from his light doze and Ian and Verity from the card game they’d begun at the kitchen table, Stone jerked it from his pocket. “Yes? What did you find out?”
“Poppy’s livin’ up to her reputation,” Eddie said. “Those echoes are ’oppin’ mad, every last one of ’em. But she had a little chat with ’em and they’ve agreed to give you and Ian safe passage into the ’ouse until sunrise. They promise to leave you alone until then, but they won’t let you down in the chamber. We’ll have to do the séance upstairs.”
“Is that all right? Can she do it from there?”
“Oh, yeah. She says it doesn’t matter, long as it’s inside the ’ouse. We’ve already got something set up in the great ’all. C’mon up and we’ll get this party started. Oh—and bring the items we found in the box today. The jewelry and whatnot.”
Stone looked at his friends, who were watching him. He looked at Ian, who had been staring out the window. This whole thing could be a trap—he could be leading them all exactly where the echoes wanted them to be, and gathering them into a neat little group.
“This could be dangerous,” he said. “Anyone who wants to stay behind—”
“Come on, Dad,” Ian said, already heading for the door. “You know that won’t work, right?”
He sighed. “I know. But I had to try, didn’t I?”
19
Despite Eddie’s assurances, Stone hesitated as he stepped over the threshold and into the house, expecting something to jump him. Magical sight had revealed the same green aura he’d spotted before; when he walked inside, it remained green with no signs of the angry red from before. A definite, palpable sense of psychic tension pervaded the area, as if they were being watched, but nothing moved or screamed.
“I guess the echoes weren’t lying, for now at least.” He glanced at the broken furniture, shattered glass, and the remains of the rug littering the entryway floor. “If we manage to sort this out, I have no idea how I’m going to explain to a cleaning crew what went on in here.”
“Just tell them you had a really wild party,” Ian said. “I’ve seen way worse than this on the morning after some of the ones I’ve been to.”
Stone didn’t favor that with a reply, but continued crunching through the broken glass into the great room. The others followed.
Eddie, Ward, and Poppy had already moved some of the heavy furniture against the wall. A large, round wooden table stood in the middle of the floor, circled with mismatched chairs—Stone recognized several of them from the dining room, and a few more from various downstairs chambers. The only light in the vast room came from candles; the remains of the three broken chandeliers had been gathered into a large pile and shoved against another wall. Near the cluster of furniture he saw the sofa Ian had referred to, with one of the swords from the wall shoved completely through it. He tried not to think about the kind of force required to do that, and how easily that force could be redirected against softer human bodies.
As they approached closer, Stone spotted a large ritual circle beneath the table. “You didn’t need to do that,” he said. “We could have used my workroom.”
“It’s okay,” Poppy said. “I find in situations like this, I’m more comfortable when I set everything up myself. No offense. I’m sure your circle is quite nice, but I like the personal touch.”
“None taken.” Actually, her words increased Stone’s respect for her and her abilities. He studied as much of the circle as he could see from where he stood; it looked much different from the types he usually employed, but then again, he didn’t often try to communicate with spirits. “What do you need us to do?”
“Nothing, just yet. Let me just finish up here, and then we’ll see what we can find out.”
The others, including Eddie and Ward, stood back while she placed items from her purple satchel on the table. She spread an intricately patterned cloth, then arranged a small group of white candles in wooden holders in the center, with a larger one at their heart. Around these, she added a pair of incense burners and three small bowls in a triangular pattern which she filled with water from a bottle in her bag, and then scattered several rocks and crystals of varying hues.
Then she looked up at Stone. “Eddie said you had some items that might have belonged to some of the spirits.”
“Er—yes.” He put the bundle down on a nearby table and opened it so she could choose what she wanted.
She stood next to the table, closing her eyes and running her hands over the items. “Oh, yes,” she murmured. “These have powerful resonance. They’ll do fine.” After a pause, she selected one of the necklaces, the cameo, the dagger, and two of the rings, and arranged them in a grouping within the triangular space she’d delineated with the three bowls.
“There,” she said, satisfied, and then faced the group. “This is a big group, which can be good, but it can also be dangerous if we’re not all on the same page. If any of you are skeptical or don’t truly believe in what we’re about to do, best if you step out now.” She settled her gaze on Jason.
He looked startled, and shook his head. “Me? No way. I’m fine. Yeah, I used to be skeptical about this kind of stuff. But I’ve seen too much of the real deal—I’d be an idiot not to believe it now.”
“Fair enough. Are any of you frightened? Nervous about anything?”
“Well, having forty-one angry spirits in my house doesn’t make me overly happy,” Stone said dryly. “But I expect they already know that.”
She waved him off. “You’re all right. But once we start this, we can’t break the circle. You know how dangerous that can be. No getting off once the ride starts. I can’t tell you what we might see or hear tonight, but I doubt it’ll be pleasant. I can’t have anyone breaking free and running—it could put all of us at risk. Me, especially, which is why I’m such a stickler about it.” Her expression fuzzed as she scanned the group, paying particular attention to Jason and Aubrey. “No shame in knowing your limitations, folks.”
Aubrey looked as if he might say someth
ing, but tightened his jaw and stiffened his shoulders. “I want to see this through, sir,” he said to Stone.
“He’ll be fine,” Stone told Poppy. “They all will.”
“All right, then. Everyone please take a seat. Dr. Stone, you and Ian have the closest connection to the spirits here, so you sit at my right, and Ian at my left.”
Everyone arranged themselves around the table. Verity sat next to Stone, with Jason next to her and Aubrey, Eddie, and Ward rounding out the group. “What do you use to communicate with the spirits?” Verity asked. “Do you have a…board or something?”
Poppy chuckled. “No, luv. I’ve never worked with a spirit board. I won’t say it’s not a valid method of communication, but I will say a lot of mediums who aren’t…well, let’s say the best at what they do…tend to use them as a crutch. Besides, this group is too big for everyone to reach the pointer.”
“Poppy’s a true medium,” Eddie said. “The spirits inhabit her body, and speak through her. It’s right fascinatin’ to watch, the few times I’ve seen it in action.”
Stone frowned. “And you’re sure this is safe for you?” he asked her. “With so many angry echoes here—”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’m not planning on letting them all in at once. From my brief communication earlier when I convinced them to let you in here, I get the impression they want their stories told. Let’s see what we find out. If any of them begin to channel through me, any of you can speak to them, but it’s best if only one or two people do. They might get agitated if too many people are yammering away at them.”
“Got it,” Eddie said. “This is Stone’s show—he can do the talkin’.”
“Unless they don’t want to talk to me,” Stone said. “You two will have to do it if they don’t.”
“Yeah. Lucky us. Let’s ’ope they’re in a friendly mood.”
Poppy smiled at the group. “Okay. That’s settled, then. If anybody needs to use the bathroom, this is the time to do it. Last call before we get started.”
When no one got up, she gave a brisk nod. “All right, then. Here we go.” With a brief hand wave, she extinguished the other candles illuminating the area, and lit the ones in the center of the table. Their flames cast flickering glows, reflected in each of the participants’ eyes. Another gesture lit the incense burners, sending tiny columns of dark, aromatic smoke wafting upward.
“All right,” she murmured. “Everyone join hands. From the moment we create the circle, it must not be broken for any reason. I know I keep saying that, but I can’t stress it enough. There’ll be a force holding us together, but it’s not so strong you couldn’t break it if you tried. I’m putting my trust in all of you.”
All around the table, each person clasped the hands of those on either side. As soon as Poppy’s long-nailed fingers curled around his hand, Stone felt a tingle of energy. The tingle intensified as the connections locked into place until finally, at the end, a faint and steady current surged through all of them. He wondered if the others felt the same thing he was.
“Good…good…” Poppy murmured. “Everyone take a few deep, cleansing breaths, and let them out slowly. Try to clear your mind of any thoughts not related to what we’re doing here. This is the time to let the outside world fade away. Nothing is important now except our circle, the spirits around us, and our purpose for being here tonight.”
Stone was glad he had extensive training in meditation, because even with that training he had a hard time clearing his mind. He felt Poppy’s warm, dry hand on one side; on the other, Verity gave him a brief squeeze. He cast a quick glance at Poppy, noting she didn’t have her eyes closed. Instead, she was scanning the group with magical sight.
Stone did the same, continuing his meditation. All around the circle, the various auras flared and danced: Verity’s emerald green, Aubrey’s and Jason’s clear blue, Ian’s silver-purple, Eddie’s bright orange, and Ward’s plum. Although they retained their distinct hues, as Stone continued to watch, the colors began to merge, to become a pure ring, separate but combined. All of them, including his own tri-toned purple, gold, and silver, flowed into Poppy’s electric turquoise, feeding her energy. It was a beautiful thing to see, and once again Stone’s opinion of the young medium’s talent rose.
“Good…good…” Poppy whispered again, clear in the silence. “We’re prepared, so let’s begin.”
She began what sounded halfway between a prayer and a chant, low and soothing. The words were in a language Stone didn’t understand, but his bond with her and the rest of the circle members gave him the intent: it was a prayer to invoke the spirits, to assure them they were safe and that the group meant them no harm, and to encourage them to reveal themselves. When she switched to English, he barely noticed the change.
“Honored spirits,” she murmured in a low, musical tone. “We have gathered together tonight, in the presence of those objects that resonate with your energy, to invite you to join us. We know you have suffered great pain and great fear, and we know you seek vengeance upon those who’ve wronged you. But tonight we ask only that you speak to us, in hope that we might reach an understanding. Please, spirits, join our gathering and share your thoughts with us. I invite you to speak through me. Be welcome. You will suffer no more harm here. We only wish to hear from you.”
For almost a minute, nothing happened. Stone continued to scan the faces of his friends, watching the auras blending together and feeling the humming connection passing between them. As Poppy dropped into her soothing chant again, not seeming disturbed by the spirits’ lack of response, Stone wondered if they would deign to speak to them at all, and also whether he’d made a mistake by insisting on including himself and Ian in the séance.
In the center of the table, the candles flickered.
Stone shifted his gaze. Had he seen that from the corner of his eye, or was it merely wishful thinking? He tightened his hands slightly on Poppy’s and Verity’s.
The candles flickered again. This time, there was no mistaking it: the tiny flames danced in the unmoving air, growing and writhing. The smoke from the incense burners did likewise, their dark, ropy tendrils growing thicker as they wafted around the table.
“Yes, spirits,” Poppy intoned. “We can feel your presence. We can feel you here with us. Welcome. We mean you no harm.”
Stone did his best to project benign, welcoming thoughts as all around him the air seemed to take on an electric charge. He couldn’t describe it any other way: now it wasn’t only the connection holding the group together that hummed, but everything around them. The temperature dropped noticeably, and across the room a heavy curtain drawn over a window rippled. A sudden image popped into his mind from a horror film he’d watched long ago at Barrow, featuring a little girl sitting in front of a snowy TV, gravely stating, “They’re heeeerrre….”
No doubt about it: they were here. The candles flickered even more madly, and the room grew so cold Stone could see everyone’s breath in little puffs in front of them. Eddie’s and Ward’s auras remained steady, but Jason’s, Aubrey’s, Ian’s, and even Verity’s showed red flashes of nervousness. Nobody attempted to break the circle, though. Everyone continued to stare into the center of the table, occasionally glancing at each other.
“Welcome, spirits,” Poppy said, raising her voice a bit louder. “Welcome. We have here the master of this house, the descendant of those who’ve wronged you. But he means you no harm. He is grateful you have offered him this brief respite, and he feels great sorrow over what was done to you. He begs you to join us tonight, to speak to us, to help him to help you find peace and cross over to the next world.” She nodded toward Stone, shooting him a significant glance.
“Er—” Stone began. He wasn’t entirely sure how to speak to the spirits of people his family had buried alive. “Yes. Thank you all for allowing me to speak with you here. I know I can’t erase the terrible things my ancestors did to you, but for what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry for it, and I wa
nt to make amends. Please—tell me what you want, and I’ll do my best to see it done.”
The temperature dropped again, and a faint wind began to stir around the table. The candle flames grew taller, flickering even more madly, and Stone began to sense a feeling of pressure around them, joining the electric hum. Even though he couldn’t see them with either magical or mundane sight, he sensed the spirits pressing in closer, jostling for space, squabbling over who would be the one to speak for the group. It was a fanciful notion, and he had no idea whether it was correct.
Despite the cold, beads of sweat stood out on Poppy’s smooth forehead, and the shaved sides. Her hand in his began to tremble, then tightened.
Her eyes, which had been closed, flew open.
Next to Stone, Verity made a soft gasp.
It had been impossible in the faint candlelight to see Poppy’s green eyes, but now they definitely weren’t green anymore. They glowed a pale yellow, and her gaze settled on Stone.
“You…” she growled. Her voice no longer had the pleasant, feminine lilt; now, it sounded deep and masculine, with an odd accent. “Murderer…”
Stone’s heartbeat increased, and he tensed. “Please,” he said. “I mean you no harm. I didn’t do this to you. Please tell me how I can help you.”
“Murderer…” the gravelly voice said again. Poppy jerked, closing her eyes and tossing her head backward. When she opened them again, the glowing yellow was gone, replaced by a pale blue.
“Mother?” The voice was different too—high and frightened. “Mother? Where are you? It’s so dark…”
Before Stone could respond, Poppy’s head jerked again and her eyes went a different shade of green—more like the one that suffused the house itself. “Stone, you damnable bastard!” A different masculine voice this time, reedy and patrician. “I’ll see you in hell for this! I’ll see your entire accursed family in hell for this!”
