by Ava Stone
Blake glanced about the room. Nothing happened.
Brighid’s voice grew louder, firmer, more demanding. Wind swept through the dungeon, the candles flickered. Some went out but relit on their own, the smell of garlic and basil grew heavy in the air.
“Now!” Patrick shouted from the other side of the circle. As instructed, they all clasped hands. Though he couldn’t see her, Mrs. Routledge was in their presence and if they were successful, locked within the circle.
Brighid continued to chant, yelling out the words nobody could possibly understand. The winds became fierce, pushing back against them. It was more of a gale, pressing them away, but each person held their spot, hands held so tightly their knuckles grew white. The ground shook, almost knocking them to the floor, but each held on for dear life. The circle could not be broken, but Blake feared how much more they could endure or if the castle would crash in on them before it was over.
Without warning, Brighid yanked her hand from his, picked up the poppet and threw it into the hearth. A ball of flame shot toward the ceiling only to fall and disappear. She swept her hand over the opening. “Be sealed.”
In an instant, the room grew silent, still and the flames no longer danced. He turned to Brighid. “Did it work?”
His heart lodged in his throat. She lay on the floor, unconscious and deathly pale.
Brighid blinked and opened her eyes. The room was dark with only a hint of light coming from the lamp. There was no window in the room so she had no idea of the time. Was it still dark? What had happened?
With a gasp, she sat up in the bed. She had summoned Mrs. Routledge and in the last moments Brighid looked into the hate-filled face of the ghost. It was so frightening she nearly stumbled. Had Blake not been holding her hand, she might have very well run from the room after such a frightening sight. Instead, Brighid had grabbed the poppet and tossed it into the hearth. Mrs. Routledge screamed in anguish as the flames devoured her spirit and pulled her down into the dark hearth. She remembered nothing else.
Frantically, she glanced about the room. She was in the sleeping chamber off of the herbarium. Where was everyone and how did she get in here? Pushing the blankets aside, she jumped from the bed and rushed out into the kitchens. Cook and the maids were busily preparing a meal. They were smiling and humming. A few nodded in greeting. The room even seemed brighter. Brighid glanced to the window. The sun was high in the sky. How long had she slept and where was Blake? Had something happened to him?
Heart hammering in her chest, she rushed into corridor and stopped. Most of the doors were open and there were people everywhere. Brighid grasped her throat and stumbled backwards. Everyone was here for the masquerade. Were they still going to have a party tonight? Had Callie come back? Why couldn’t she see anyone she knew or at least recognized from last night?
Oh, she hoped it was last night and not two nights ago. Unless Callie was safe, then it wouldn’t matter. But where were they?
A door opened further down the corridor. “I’ll check on Brighid.”
That was Blake. Relief swept through her as she hurried toward the sound of his voice.
“Did it work?” she cried when she came within sight of him.
“Brighid,” he uttered with surprise. “I was wondering if you would ever wake.”
“What happened?”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead before escorting her into a room that appeared to be a library. They were all there. Everyone who had been in the dungeon, with the exception of Mrs. Small was there. Also in the room were Lila Southward and Callie’s brother, Sir Cyrus, as well as Daphne Alcott and her brother.
Dr. Alcott lounged against the wall beside a window. “See, Chetwey, I told you she would awaken. Spells do tend to take a lot out of a person, especially if they are not accustomed to harnessing their magic.”
Brighid blinked at him in surprise. He merely chuckled. “I’ve always known, as did my father, Miss Glace. My father said that your mother once slept for an entire twenty-four hours.”
Daphne smiled and shrugged. Had she known too?
Brighid gasped, remembering what she was about. “What time is it? What day is it?”
“Shush,” Blake insisted, though it did little to calm her panic. “It is October thirty-first and it is barely two in the afternoon.”
She blew out a breath and then glanced about the room again. Nobody looked as if they wished to celebrate. In fact, Lord Bradenham seemed even grimmer than before. Not that she had seen all the much of him. “What happened?”
“The servants claim that you did rid the castle of my great-grandmother,” Lord Bradenham answered.
Laura poured a cup of tea and pressed it into her hand after Blake led her to a vacant seat.
“What of Callie?” She held her breath, already knowing the answer; if she had been found, Lord Bradenham wouldn’t seem so defeated, nor Lila pale or Sir Cyrus stern.
“She hasn’t emerged,” Blake confirmed.
“It is still the thirty-first?” she asked, needing assurance again.
“Yes,” Blake answered.
“Then we have time.”
“What do you now suggest, Miss Glace?” Lord Bradenham stood. “Mrs. Small assures me that if Callie is not back by midnight, all is lost.”
Goodness, he was rather frightening, but she couldn’t really blame the man for being upset. Callie had gone missing on his property and he was to have a party. This wasn’t a convenient situation for him at all.
She placed her tea on the table. “First, it does not have to be exactly at midnight, but before the sun rises tomorrow. However, the closer to midnight is better.” Brighid stood. “Lila, Daphne and Sir Cyrus, you should come with me.”
The three shared confused looks. “Where to?” Lila asked.
“Why?” Sir Cyrus demanded.
“You are closest to Callie. You might help me find her.”
Sir Cyrus focused on Lord Bradenham. “He is the one you need.”
Brighid frowned. Lord Bradenham was needed to get rid of his great-grandmother, not find a miss from Ravenglass. Did they even know one another?
“He is the one she loves.”
Her eyes widened. Goodness, what had she missed while tending to Blake?
“And I love her.”
This was certainly a story she wished to hear, but now was not the time. “Then you shall come as well.”
Blake stopped her with a hand on her waist. “Where are you going and what do you plan to do?” Worry etched across his brow.
“I must look into the crystal.” Certainly he understood.
“You need to rest more. Last night nearly killed you.”
“You would have me rest while my friend is missing?” He was mad. “I promise to sleep the day away tomorrow. This must be done now.”
She didn’t give him a chance to argue and marched out of the room, assuming the others followed. She met Mrs. Small in the corridor by a door leading outside. “Is it true, she is gone?”
Mrs. Small smiled brightly. “She is. Can’t you feel it?” She raised her hands up, as if weighing the air. “No more oppressive mood and the castle is bright. It has never been like this before.”
Brighid supposed that was true, but it was still too soon to celebrate. First, they needed to find Callie.
Blake stood numbly and watched her leave. What could he do? He couldn’t stop her. If he did, and she was unable to get her friend back, she would never forgive him. Further, Braden might never forgive him, but at what cost to Brighid? She was pale, her face drawn as if she were ill, yet she pressed on. Dammit, he would see that she remained in bed for the next week, even if he had to tie her to it. And, never again would he allow her to banish ghosts. Seeing her lay so lifeless had nearly frightened him more than the banishing itself. He could not live through that again.
Though he had not been asked, he followed after Brighid and the others. They may be more concerned with finding Miss Eilbeck, but some
one had to watch over Brighid.
She stopped in the center of her garden and knelt before the crystal. “Daphne, you go first.”
“What do I do?”
“Sit on the other side, close your eyes and think only of Callie.”
Miss Alcott did as instructed. She took a deep breath, blew it out and closed her eyes.
“Now, concentrate only on Callie.”
There was complete silence as Brighid gazed into the crystal.
After several moments, Brighid settled back on her heals. “The colors are shifting from lavender to blue but I cannot find an image.”
“I tried.”
Brighid smiled at Daphne. “I know. Now it is…” She bit her bottom lip and glanced at those surround her. “Sir Cyrus, would you please do the same.”
He helped Daphne to her feet then settled on the ground. As with Daphne, he inhaled and closed his eyes. Once again, Brighid leaned to peer into the crystal. She frowned and tilted her head.
“What is it?” Braden demanded.
She blinked. “Nothing to be concerned with, I assure you. But, I didn’t see Callie.”
“This is ridiculous,” Lord Bradenham bit out.
“She got rid of your great-grandmother didn’t she,” Blake reminded him. “Trust her in this.”
“Lila, now it is your turn,” Brighid announced.
The young woman hurried over and took her place on the other side of the crystal.
Brighid breathed out and leaned in. A smile grew on her face as she studied the crystal. Finally, she sighed and pulled back. “We are getting closer. This time I saw white. It is an excellent sign.”
She turned, “If you don’t mind, Lord Bradenham?”
“Why am I last?” he demanded.
“Because she loves you and I thought to build the connection.”
He said nothing as he settled across from Brighid.
“Concentrate only on Callie.”
“That is all I’ve been doing for the past several days.”
“Braden,” Blake warned. His friend might be frustrated but it was no reason to take his anger out on Brighid. She was only trying to help.
“I apologize.”
Brighid waited for him to close his eyes before learning forward. Her eyes widened. “Oh, pink.”
Blake wanted to ask if that was good or bad, but held his silence, as everyone else did, allowing her to concentrate. She wasn’t frowning, so it must be a good sign.
She pulled slightly back. “Red.”
Was that worry in her voice? What did it mean?”
“Pink again, now white.”
Blake would have to ask what all of this meant when she was done. It might not matter at all, but he was of a curious nature.
Brighid gasped and leaned forward, concentrating on whatever it was she saw. A moment later she blinked and fell back. “She is gone.”
“Gone!” Braden barked. “I thought you found her. White, pink, red, whatever the devil all of that means.”
“I did see her. I can’t tell where she is, she is still among us, my lord.”
Blake blew out breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding.
“What did she look like?” Braden demanded.
“She looked cold,” Brighid began. “Even though she has a shawl. Faded a bit. She’s wearing a yellow walking dress and she seems tired.”
“Now what do we do?” Sir Cyrus asked.
Brighid brightened. ”We will bring her back just after midnight.”
The question needed to be asked, but he feared the answer. “How?”
“Much in the same manner as we banished Mrs….” She looked around, “You-know-who.”
“So, we will return to the dungeon?” Blake held his breath, fearing her answer. He never wanted to go back there again.
Brighid frowned. “I don’t believe so, but I can’t be certain at this moment.”
Braden stood. “Will we need the same group from last night? I’ll make sure they’re all there.”
Brighid shook her head in the negative. “I will need you, Sir Cyrus, Daphne, Lila and those closest to Callie.”
“They will be here,” Braden replied as if he were king and could order anyone about as he saw fit.
“But first,” Brighid said, her gaze locked with Braden’s. “You will meet me here shortly before midnight.”
Blake would have laughed at the image of Braden walking through Brighid’s garden, tossing hemp seeds over his right shoulder while reciting the incantation Brighid had written out for him, if this were simply a party entertainment. Instead, this might possibly be the last chance they had at finding Miss Eilbeck.
Brighid gazed into the crystal, searching for signs or at least a location of her friend.
The rest of their friends were at the masquerade, attempting to entertain the guests, though he knew most of them were not enjoying themselves. Even Thorn muttered something about not pursuing ladies without drawers until all of this ghost business was put behind them. “How could one possibly engage in merriment when Miss Eilbeck remains missing?”
Only Patrick and Laura stood with him. Even though they had not met Miss Eilbeck, Patrick remained Brighid’s connection to the spirit realm and she wanted him near if needed.
“Has he seen her yet?”
Blake nearly jumped at the whispered voice from behind. How long had Miss Lila Southward, Miss Alcott and Sir Cyrus been standing there?
He shook his head instead of speaking. Not that they had been told to be silent; Blake simply assumed it was needed for concentration.
“It is past midnight,” Sir Cyrus hissed.
None of them needed a reminder of that fact.
“It just turned,” Daphne insisted.
Brighid looked up from her crystal and nodded to Braden.
He slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder. “I see her!”
“Where?” Brighid asked calmly.
“Callie, sweetheart, is that really you?” Braden said instead of answering Brighid.
“Stay there, I am coming for you.”
Could they be speaking to one another? This was more than any of them dared hope for.
He fully turned, reached out his arm, a look of pain and disappointment swept across his face before he dropped it. “She’s gone.”
Well, Brighid had told him to only look over his shoulder and not turn, but Blake would have done the same in a similar circumstance.
“Where is she?” Brighid came to her feet.
“The fountain in the gardens, where we first met.”
Brighid grabbed her satchel from Chetwey and started for the castle door. She called out, “We must hurry,” to the rest of the assembled group. “Follow Lord Bradenham to the fountain he means.”
They followed Braden, racing through the castle and into the formal gardens, tearing through the crowds, pushing people out of their way, not caring who they may have offended. Party guests filled the back gardens, the ballroom and many common rooms of the house. Quent had invited so many guests that even the rooms and the inns in Tollbright and Ravenglass were filled to capacity with many people sharing chambers. Blake had even offered the use of Torrington Abbey, with his aunt and uncle’s permission. Many took advantage of the opportunity so as not to share a chamber, even though it was a thirty minute carriage ride away.
As soon as they came to the fountain, Brighid had the group form a triangle. She was at the top point with Braden and Miss Lila Southward at the opposite two. Sir Cyrus sat to Brighid’s right, Miss Daphne Allcott to her left and Patrick was placed between Braden and Miss Southward, directly across from Brighid. If Braden was correct in the location, the spirit of Callie Eilbeck should be in the center.
Blake hung back and observed, watching for any distress in Brighid.
Again she chanted in a language he did not understand, other than her friend’s name. The difference this time was her tone. Instead of yelling and being forceful, it was calm and loving, as
if she were calling her friend to her.
A gentle breeze filled the air along with the scent of gardenias. A mist formed in the center of the triangle, twirling and shifting and Blake could swear he heard the twinkling of bells.
Brighid continued to speak in a loving tone; never once raising her voice and the mist began to take shape, forming into a woman. It was more of a silhouette from where he stood observing, but the entire circumstance was fascinating. The image continued to solidify until Miss Callie Eilbeck stood in the center.
She had done it. Brighid had brought her back.
A round of applause erupted from the veranda. The party guests must have followed them, “Bloody hell!” How were they going to explain this?
He turned to congratulate Brighid only to find her once again, collapsed on the ground and unconscious. He was never allowing her to do this again.
Murmurs of quiet voices intruded on her conscious and Brighid slowly opened her eyes. Blake was seated next to her, his eyebrows drawn together with concern.
She opened her eyes more fully and glanced around. She was lying on a settee in what appeared to be the library at Marisdùn Castle. Blake, his sister, along with Lord Patrick, sat nearby. What had happened?
The memory flooded her mind and she sat up with a start. “Callie!”
Blake gently pushed her back against the pillows. “Your friend is back and seems to have suffered nothing more than a terrible fright. My concern is with you.”
“She is truly back and whole?”
Blake smiled lovingly, his green eyes warm and tender. “Yes. You did it, Brighid.”
“It wasn’t me alone. It was those who loved her that pulled her back.” She knew deep down that without her friends and Lord Bradenham, she could never have saved Callie.
“Please let me sit up.” She felt ridiculous lying on the settee when she was perfectly fine. Lord Patrick handed her a glass and she took a tentative sip. It was stronger than wine, but not unpleasant. She assumed it was brandy by the way it burned a warm trail to her stomach.
“We shall leave you alone.” Laura smiled as her husband escorted her out of the doors to the gardens. Guests were milling about, wearing masks and elaborate costumes and it was still dark. She could not have been unconscious all that long.
