Crossroads (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 7)

by Catie Rhodes

  Cecil began his story again. “I thought Samantha was just telling me a story to stop me crying. But she picked up the kitten’s broken little body and told me to come with her. We walked into her house, and she held open the door to her kitchen. I walked in, and all of a sudden, it wasn’t her kitchen.” Cecil waved his hand in front of his face like a magician. “It was a beautiful, sunny meadow. Full of flowers and butterflies. My kitty came back to life and bounded off.” The old man’s voice rose like an awestruck kid’s. “Samantha took me to a little cottage at the edge of the meadow. She served me hot tea and warm cookies, and we spent all afternoon watching my pet kitty chase lizards in the yard of this little place. When we got back to her kitchen only a few minutes had passed.” He put his hand on my arm and stared into my eyes, maybe wanting me to tell him I believed. But I was too freaked out. Cecil let go of me and stared at the ceiling.

  “She ever take you back?” I thought I already understood Cecil’s point. Samantha had taken the runes to this place and hidden them there, where she thought the Coachman would never find them. Now I needed a way to get to this place.

  “I asked a couple of years later, almost to make sure I hadn’t just dreamed the whole episode.” Cecil smiled at me, and I smiled back. I’d have done the same thing. “Samantha told me I could never go back. I didn’t have enough magic in me.”

  “Do you remember anything special she did to take y’all there?” Frustration got a foothold and started climbing. What the hell was I supposed to do with this information?

  “Not really. Samantha saw the dead just like you and me.” Cecil pointed one crooked finger at himself, then at me. “She said reality was just a bunch of layers. She claimed the ghosts showed her how to walk between realities.”

  Cold fingers crept up my spine. I knew a bit about these different realities, had even visited one of them. My mind balked at the idea of going back. Cecil kept talking, oblivious.

  “She never took me back, but sometimes my grandmother’d go into a room and disappear for hours. You’d go in there, and she’d be gone.” Cecil smiled. “But the thing is, she couldn’t have left. There was no way for her leave without someone seeing her.”

  “And you suspect the runes are in this place you’ve been telling me about?” I knew the answer, had known it all along. Some naïve part me hoped I’d misunderstood. But life didn’t work that way for me. If it was difficult, I got a double scoop of it.

  “It’s all I can guess since we didn’t find them with her grimoire and other belongings.” He pressed his lips together. “That water monster or whatever it was we saw in the vision…” He frowned at whatever pictures his memory showed him.

  “I call him Pruney.” I didn’t tell Cecil that Pruney and I already knew each other. Saying it aloud felt like a silly kid’s jinx.

  “Horrible, ugly thing.” I nodded my agreement. Pruney scared me worse than any horror movie boogieman. “But I know those tiles are important. The monster told Samantha the tiles couldn’t be lost because they’d be her only power against the Coachman if he were to return.”

  Mysti said she had a plan for the runes, one we’d use to banish the Coachman back to the prison where his soul was stored. But I didn’t know how to get to this perfect meadow Cecil described. Didn’t have one single clue. The tension inside me wound tighter and tighter. I looked down at the picture of Samantha. The lights on the sign behind her had begun to move. She winked and put her finger to her lips. I couldn’t speak. Seeing a person in a picture move did that to me.

  The raven tattoo on my arm started to itch. I scratched at it, still staring horrified at the picture. The silhouette of a bird passed over Samantha’s smiling face. A few seconds later, Orev cawed. His presence pushed at mine. I opened myself to him and saw in my mind the place Cecil had described. Orev knew where to go. I stood.

  “You won’t stop thinking about helping me run Sanctuary?” Cecil half stood.

  “You mean in addition to saving Zora and getting rid of the Coachman?” I faced my great uncle without blinking.

  He shrugged, not the least bit guilty. “All of that too.”

  “No. I won’t forget.” I let myself outside.

  19

  I OPENED the motor home’s door to the deepening gloom of evening and looked for my familiar.

  Caw. Caw. Cawwwww.

  Orev perched on a wooden post with an electric meter attached to it. The bond between us awoke. Power thrummed through me, stronger than it had been since this waking nightmare started. The electric meter ran faster as I neared it.

  Orev cocked his head to one side, tilting it to and fro. Then he took off. His black form almost disappeared in the darkening sky, but I felt him and had no trouble following.

  The raven tattoo on my arm stung the way it had when I got it inked more than a dozen years earlier. I absently rubbed at it as I walked.

  “Peri Jean?” Mysti’s voice came from behind me. I waved her off and kept walking. She quit calling me, but I heard her quick footsteps. She wouldn’t let me out of her sight. Something about that kind of devotion opened the wellspring of guilt I carried. I pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on Orev.

  He led me into the woods, as I’d expected, but instead of the barren field where Blessed Union had stood, he flew in the opposite direction. We came upon a deep ravine with a scum of black water flowing down its center. Orev flew to the other side and waited on the bank.

  Caw. Caw. Caw.

  “You’re kidding. That’s deeper than I am tall.” I knew the bird wasn’t kidding and set about finding a way across. A branch snapped behind me. Must be Mysti. Somehow I knew she couldn’t join me on this journey, but I felt better just knowing she had my back.

  I backed up a few feet and took a running leap across the ravine. Being five-foot-nothing, I didn’t make it. I grabbed for a skinny tree and wrapped my arms around it, heart slam-dancing. Little by little, I pulled myself onto the bank. Orev waited on an old wooden fence post.

  “You thought that was funny, didn’t you?” I didn’t expect Orev to answer, and he didn’t. He cocked his head in the direction what lay on the other side of the fence.

  Only a little ambient light was left of the day, and I gingerly felt for the barbed wire fence I suspected was attached to the fencepost. But my fingers found nothing other than a soft buzz of magic.

  This was the place. I took a deep breath and passed the barrier. I felt the warmth of the sun on my face before my eyes adjusted. A mockingbird called somewhere near, and a peacock answered him. Another bird, one whose call I didn’t recognize, joined the chatter.

  The meadow Cecil described came into focus bit by bit. The lush green grass waved in a soft breeze, and the sky above was the deep, perfect blue of spring, the sun a white-hot ember. A peacock strutted across the meadow, his tail fanned out. His mating call echoed across the meadow. A monarch butterfly as big as my hand floated past my face.

  The sound of two women talking and laughing came from somewhere near. I walked across the meadow, the thick grass like carpet under my feet. Soon I saw the cottage Cecil mentioned tucked into a copse of thick, old growth trees.

  I had expected a log cabin, but this was straight out of a fairy tale, a stone house with a thatched roof, rounded over the circular windows. A rough stone walkway led to a small courtyard where two women sat at an iron table, parasols hooked onto the backs of their chairs. A fat white cat, more ancient than any cat I’d ever seen, raised its head, regarded me briefly, then rolled its eyes shut.

  “See? I told you she’d find us. Peri Jean is smart. Not brave, but smart.” Priscilla Herrera said to her daughter. Samantha gave me a wink.

  “If I’m not brave enough, why’d you choose me?” An extra chair appeared at the table, and I sat without waiting to be invited.

  “Because you’ll learn.” Priscilla offered me a plate of tea cakes with pink icing. I shook my head.

  “Please eat one.” Samantha smiled, reminding me so much of Mem
aw that tears stung my eyes. “You won’t be able to stay here if you don’t.”

  I took the cookie and bit into it, expecting the worst of all medicines, but it was sweet, light, and crisp, the way tea cakes should be. My stomach reminded me how long it had been since my last meal. I ate the cookie in three bites and took another.

  “You’ve made quite a mess of things.” Priscilla Herrera sipped from a dainty cream-colored teacup with a jade rim. “Your ineptitude has forced me to retreat here, where your Coachman can’t reach me.”

  I realized the tea cake had parched my mouth. My own cup appeared in front of me, brimming with smoking liquid. I sipped from it and felt immediately better. “What did you expect? You had to know that spell was in me when you chose me to receive your power.”

  “No task I’ve put on you is impossible.” Priscilla sat down her cup with a hard click.

  “Mother, don’t break the china.” Samantha patted Priscilla’s arm. “I won’t be able to find more like this, much less get it over here.”

  “You and your dumb games.” Priscilla turned on her daughter. “This is why you couldn’t receive my power. You wasted your gifts on stupid pursuits like this.” She waved her hand and took another sugar cookie. Samantha shrugged at her mother and smiled at me.

  “I’m pleased you’ve come to visit me, Peri Jean.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Just like Memaw. Even the way she held her teacup to her mouth, barely tilting it to sip, was like Memaw. She set down her cup and pulled something from her lap.

  Unlike the dainty and pristine setup on the table, the bundle of white cloth Samantha pushed across the table was stained and grimy. Something inside moved. The runes?

  “This is what I stole from the Coachman.” Samantha grinned. All of a sudden, she didn’t look like a sweet little lady. Her teeth seemed sharp, feral and dangerous. “But I didn’t know him as the Coachman. The name told to me was Lord of Babylon. You’ll need his true name to destroy his hold on your reality.”

  “I think I know his name. Oscar Rivera. But I don’t want to call the dark being like you did.” My mouth felt full of cotton, so I took another sip of the tea and found it almost too sweet to swallow. “I don’t want to owe him.”

  The two women exchanged glances. Priscilla shook her head at Samantha.

  “There’s a banishment you can try. First, you’ll need to destroy a few of these.” Priscilla tapped the bag of runes and drew back her finger as though afraid of getting it bitten off.

  Samantha held up one hand. “Do not destroy all of them. Understand?” Lips set in a severe slash, she waited for me to acknowledge her order. I nodded. She said, “Tell me.”

  Feelings of inadequacy crowded my mind, assuring me I wouldn’t know the right answer. “The dark being told you these runes hold the only power over the Coachman. They’re the only way to send him back where he came from.” I swallowed hard. That was the end of my knowledge.

  “Tell her the rest.” Priscilla toyed with her teacup, hooded eyes on her daughter. “You had to die to figure it out. Peri Jean needs the information now.”

  “You’ll never be fully rid of the Coachman until you banish his soul from your plane.” Samantha watched me digest the information. I sat there several seconds before understanding washed over me. The knowledge sat on my stomach like boiling poison.

  “I’ll have to find the place where he hid his soul.” No telling what it would take to kill the Coachman for good. I put my hand over my aching gut, wishing for my antacids.

  Both women smiled at me. Samantha spoke. “The tiles will lead you to that place. Use my wheel to make them talk to you.”

  Wheel? Then it hit me. “The disk?”

  “It is the wheel of all seasons, places, and things.” Samantha made the shape of a circle with her hands. “Learn to call forth what you need, and it will serve you well.”

  Priscilla held out a hand for Samantha to stop. “She can’t stay long. We must concentrate on stopping the current danger.”

  Samantha nodded and made a hand motion that said we’d take it up later.

  Priscilla shook her head, muttered something about silliness, and focused her sharp gaze on me. “Choose a few of the runes. Grind them and use the powder in a wax likeness of the Coachman. The method is in the book of recipes I left for you. Melissa Jane White can help. She’ll argue, but tell her there is no such thing as dark magic, only the magic you need at any given time, and consequence is simply a fact of life.”

  Waves rippled through my vision, rolling the way heat rolls out of a hot oven. The peacock came close to the paved courtyard and let out his call again. The cat let out a scratchy meow. Somewhere distant, a horse whinnied. Samantha stood, smiling her gracious, yet savage, smile again.

  “My dear, you must now leave. Inside you I see where the man you call the Coachman seeks you.” She took my arm and pulled me from the chair. “I’m afraid if you stay too long, he’ll come looking for you here.”

  “What is this place?” I glanced back at the table, looking for Priscilla. As much as she frightened me, she was still a known quantity, and the known was much more comforting than the unknown. I got only a glimpse of her back as she bent to scratch the cat’s head.

  Samantha smiled again, all savageness gone. “It’s my hiding place, darling. I’ll call you back again. We’ll talk about building one for you. I think you’re going to need it.” She took my arm and walked me to the edge of the meadow. Though a hazy membrane, I saw the fencepost. Orev called to me. Samantha gave me a light push, and I took a big step. The meadow was gone as neatly as it had appeared.

  MYSTI TURNED white when I told her what Priscilla said for us to do. We sat in the darkened SUV with the heater running. Way in the back of my mind, I heard Zora crying. It made me want to scream, to beat my fists against the windows because I couldn’t fix everything this second. I did my best to ignore it. “Are you in?”

  “It’s a banishment spell. I’ve only seen it performed once.” Mysti’s normally bright eyes clouded with insecurity. “The person being banished ended up actually vanishing from the face of the earth.”

  “Who cares what happens to the Coachman?” I made a face at Mysti.

  “Not me, certainly. But the earth, and therefore magic, is about balance. The evil we conjure will be balanced in some way.” She waited for me to answer.

  I didn’t know how to answer her, so I pulled Priscilla Herrera’s grimoire, her recipe book, out of my backpack. The book flipped open to a page I’d never noticed before. The words, written in a language I doubted anybody on earth could read, squiggled into something I did understand. “Here it is. The name of the spell is ‘Banish a Threat.’”

  Mysti put her hand on my shoulder and accessed my power to make the spell readable to her. “This is dark, so very dark.”

  “There’s no such thing as dark magic.” I found myself quoting Priscilla Herrera. “There is only the magic you need.”

  Mysti stared at me, face slack. Several seconds passed. She straightened, regaining her composure. “My student has chosen her path.”

  “Will you help me?” I waited for her no.

  She nodded. “Of course. But understand that every witch comes to a crossroad. Magic like this shapes your path forever.”

  “Do you have a better suggestion?” Part of me hoped she did. Priscilla Herrera’s suggestions scared me. She wouldn’t try to protect me. She’d drop me in a vat of boiling oil and expect me to find my way out. Mysti would try to protect me, to make things as easy and safe for me as she could.

  “At this point, no. The Coachman will likely come for you tonight. Otherwise, he’ll have to wait another month.” Mysti stared out at the darkness.

  I opened my mouth to ask why, but then it hit me. Moon magic. Mysti conducted important rituals at specific times during the moon phase. “Because tonight’s the new moon. The new moon is for new beginnings.”

  Mysti nodded. “I’ll need to check my supplies, see if I have what we ne
ed.” She carefully went through her traveling witch kit, stealing glances at me every few seconds. Finally she closed the case and turned to me.

  “Is it all there?” I was tired of the weighted glances, of the long pauses that ended with her shaking her head.

  She nodded and bit her lip.

  “Why don’t you just say whatever you’re thinking in English plain enough for me to understand?” I’d feel better with it out there.

  “The kind of consequence you’re looking at is letting darkness dwell within you, letting it become a part of you.” She raised her eyebrows. “You have to be vigilant not to let it take you over.”

  Her words seeped into me, cold and hard like a stone in winter. I knew them for truth. “I have to do this. Zora deserves a chance to turn her life into a living hell on her own terms.”

  Mysti smiled at that. She put her arms around me and held me tight. We began preparing.

  Finn and Dillon cleared out of their camper to let us use it to build the spell. Wade gave up flirting with Jadine long enough to talk one of the camp’s more adventurous cooks out of a meat grinder. “Those are just bone, right? It’ll work.” He plugged the thing in and got to work. I thought of the people those pieces of tile had once been and shuddered.

  “Don’t grind them all up.” I had to shout to be heard over the machine’s whine. Wade gave me a solemn stare and shoved some of the runes aside.

  I returned them to the bag I got from Samantha. Using the runes to find the Coachman’s soul was a worry for another day. But I had to be ready when it came. My luck, it would be sooner rather than later. Problems followed me like stink on shit.

  Mysti dug a disposable storage dish, the kind we usually kept lasagna leftovers in, out of her bag. Inside lay a blob of clear whitish stuff. She popped the lid off. “This is special candle wax I buy from another witch. It’s made with the rendered tallow of animals she slaughters on her farm.”