by Janni Nell
I hadn’t gone far when Casper appeared in the passenger seat beside me. Bloody hell, as Dad used to say. I was so startled I almost ran off the road.
“You promised you wouldn’t appear like that when I’m driving.”
He looked confused. “We agreed I’d whistle right before I appeared to give you warning.”
“But you didn’t whistle.”
“Oh yes I did. I whistled the theme tune for this year’s Angel Awards.”
“How come I didn’t hear you?”
He looked a bit sheepish. “I guess it’s possible only angels can hear it.”
“Then it’s not much use as a warning, is it?” I snapped, and drove on in silence.
Finally Casper asked, “Don’t you want to know how the Angel Awards are going?”
“Not particularly.” I didn’t want to hear I was losing Casper because he’d won the right to enter Heaven.
“Okay,” he said easily. “I should be getting back anyway. My category will be announced soon.”
“So you haven’t won yet.”
“Not yet. But I’m the favorite.”
“Yeah, you already told me. Anyway it’s kind of obvious since it’s an award for honorable treatment of women and the other nominees are Henry the Eighth, Jack the Ripper and Caligula.”
“Yeah, but Henry the Eighth’s had a really good year. He saved his morsub from being killed by her husband and then he helped her through a really nasty divorce.”
“Does that mean I should wish you luck?” As if I would, even if he wasn’t the favorite. If I knew who was responsible for tallying the votes, I’d be tempted to bribe them t make him lose. The last thing I needed was for Casper to be distracted when I needed him. Defeating the malhag would be difficult enough. Without Casper’s protection it would be impossible.
He paused as though he was listening to something I couldn’t hear. “I’d better get back to the awards.”
“Wait.” But he was already gone. Not so long ago he’d promised that when he was finally admitted to Heaven, he’d return to say goodbye. I found myself wondering whether he’d keep that promise.
After parking in the lot at Oak Lodge, I strode into Reception, where Mom met me. She looked awful. Her mascara was smudged from crying, she’d lost an earring and smelled of sweat, which was rock-bottom for her.
“How’s Steven?” I asked.
“They think he’s hallucinating, but he isn’t. I know. I’ve seen the misty woman. Why haven’t you stopped that paranormal creature?” She glared at me. “You’re supposed to be a professional.”
Well that hurt. Swallowing my pride, I tried to cut her some slack. She was worried and desperately out of her depth when it came to understanding the paranormal.
“Let me take you home,” I suggested gently. “You’ll feel better after a shower and a change of clothes.”
“I can’t leave here with that woman hanging around.” And she wasn’t talking about a pretty nurse.
“Steven’s strapped down,” I reasoned. “Demelza won’t be able to make him hurt himself. He’ll be fine until we return. I promise I’ll have you back here by the end of the day.”
She hooked oily hair behind her ear. Leaning toward me, she asked confidentially, “Do I look awful? I feel—dirty.”
“You don’t look so bad but—”
“Oh, don’t bother lying. I can see by your expression I’m a mess. Very well, take me home.”
On the drive back to Mayflower Avenue, Mom made a call on her cell. After leaving a message, she hung up and murmured, “I can’t understand why Lily’s not answering.”
Uh-oh. I hadn’t told her about the kidnapping. I figured Mom had enough to worry about.
“Do you know where Lily is?” she asked, stowing her cell in her handbag.
Double uh-oh. “I guess she’s at the hospital with SJ. She must’ve turned off her cell.”
Mom gave me the skeptical look all mothers specialize in. “Tell me the truth, Allegra. I know something’s wrong. Is it her blood pressure? Is she in the hospital?”
Triple uh-oh. I kept my eyes on the road, pretending I hadn’t heard her.
Mom folded her arms. “Allegra Mabel Fairweather. Tell me what’s happened to Lily right this minute or else I’ll…” Her voice rose higher with each word.
“Okay,” I mumbled, “but you won’t like it.”
“Just tell me.”
“The malhag kidnapped her.”
Dead silence from Mom. I couldn’t have knocked the wind out of her more effectively if I’d punched her in the gut.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“Why? Was it your fault?”
“Of course not.” Then, angry at her for even thinking I might have put Lily in danger, I said, “It’s the Hampton family’s fault. I’ve read Steven Twenty’s diary. His wife and the malhag were sisters. They fought over him and Demelza lost, so she’s going to kill the descendents of Elowyn Hampton for revenge.”
“Lily isn’t a blood relation,” began Mom hopefully, before the truth sank in. “Oh my dear lord, the baby is.” She began to cry.
Trying to make her feel better, I said, “If it’s any comfort, Lily won’t be killed. So you’ll have your favorite daughter back.”
“I don’t like your tone. It sounds very much like jealousy.” Mom narrowed her eyes as me. “There’s no need for you to be jealous of Lily.”
“Yeah right.”
“I love you two equally.”
“Oh puleeze.”
“Let me finish. The truth is I understand Lily’s ambition to be a good wife and mother much better than I understand your obsession with the paranormal—”
“It’s not an obsession.”
But Mom didn’t hear. The words were tumbling out too fast. “Just like your father. And look where that got us. Abandoned while he went off to do who knows what in the Australian desert. I was glad when he disappeared. I didn’t want him polluting my girls with all that paranormal crap. And when I was able to remarry, I chose a man who thought the paranormal was a load of BS.” She started to cry again. “And now I find out Steven has an ancestor who was a witch and another who’s a malhag. I can’t get away from the fricking paranormal.”
Ignoring her sobs, I said softly, “You never told me why Dad went to Australia. I thought he was visiting relatives. Was he a paranormal investigator?”
She bit her lip as though she wished she could take back her words.
“Tell me, Mom. It’s way past time for the truth.”
“Very well, although the truth is I don’t know what he was. When we married I thought he was a traveling salesman. He let me believe that. He knew how I hated the paranormal and he married me under false pretences.”
I had reached the outer suburbs of Boston and I slowed down as I exited the freeway. Beside me, Mom dabbed at her tears with a tissue, making her panda eyes worse. “You should take a lesson from those Penrose sisters.”
“What?” I was still processing the information that Dad might have been a paranormal investigator.
“Those sisters,” said Mom. Sheblew her nose. “What’s-her-name and the malhag. Look at all the trouble they’ve caused by fighting over a man. It was jealousy, plain and simple.”
I knew where she was going with this and I stepped in before it went too far. “Lily and I aren’t fighting over a man.”
“Jealousy,” sniffed Mom. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s over a man or over who is Mom’s favorite. It poisons families. That all I have to say.” She pursed her lips and stared out the window.
For the rest of the journey neither of us spoke, but I felt color staining my cheeks. Casper had already likened Lily and me to the Penrose sisters and here was Mom doing it as well. Naively I’d thought Mom hadn’t known I was jealous of Lily. But of course she knew. I mean, she was the mom.
When I pulled into her driveway, she got out of the car and said, “Wait out here. I won’t be long.”
I followed her to the front d
oor. “Can I at least make coffee while you shower?”
“There’s no time for showering or coffee. Lily’s been kidnapped. I’m going to grab my biggest knife then we’re going to The Hollows. Let’s see what the malhag has to say to solid steel.”
“Oh Mom,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’ve already been to The Hollows. It’s a labyrinth in there. I couldn’t find Lily.”
“I’ll find her. I’m her mother.”
“The malhag is a powerful witch,” I said gently. “The only way to defeat her is with magic.”
“I have to protect my girl.” But her voice faltered.
“Mom, you have to leave this to the professionals.”
“Will you do right by her?”
“Of course.”
Mom sagged against me. Her head barely reached my shoulder. “You said Lily would live. But her baby will die, won’t he?”
“No. I’ll save him. I swear it.”
She pressed her fingers to my lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She turned away from me and fitted her key in the lock.
“You’re not going to get the knife, are you?”
She met my eyes again. Defeated. “No, I’m going to follow your advice and leave this to the professionals. I’ll shower then you can take me back to Oak Lodge.”
“I won’t give up. I will stop the malhag. I will bring Lily back to you.”
She touched my cheek. “Promise me one thing? Don’t put yourself at risk. Not even for Lily. I don’t want to lose you.”
Leaving me speechless, she headed upstairs. Soon I heard the shower running. While I made coffee, her words repeated in my mind. “I don’t want to lose you.” I felt good.
When we returned to Oak Lodge, I was allowed to see Steven. He didn’t look too bad for someone who’d bitten a hole in his own wrist. He was lucid, even if he was still strapped down.
Mom rushed to embrace him. “We’re doing all we can to help you. Allegra’s working day and night.” She shot me a glance.
The nurse, who was standing beside me, touched my arm and beckoned me out of the room. In the corridor, with Mom and Steven still in sight through the open door, she said, “You do realize there’s nothing you can do to help Mr. Hampton. His psychiatrist is the best in the business. If she can’t help him, no one can.”
“I know,” I lied, “it’s just Mom talking. Just trying to make Steven feel better.”
“Allegra,” he called weakly from the bed. I hurried to his side. Not only were his eyes lucid, his voice had completely lost the smarmy politician’s charm. He murmured, “Thank you for trying to save my family.”
“No problem.” I felt like a bit of a fraud, since I was very far from achieving my goal of saving the Hamptons. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. The walls were as pale as Steven’s face. The hospital smells clashed with the view of brown leaves blowing around the garden. It was a relief when the nurse told me I should leave and give Steven a chance to rest.
I hurried to the car, but when I got there I realized I had nowhere to hurry to. The case was stalled until Mac told me how to stop Demelza. I drove back to Mayflower Avenue, taking two detours on the way. The first was to tell Lily’s neighbors she was staying with me for a while. I hated to lie to Jerry and Helen, but you can’t go around telling nice normal people about malhags and stuff. They’d just freak out.
My next detour was to pick up a curry and some travel brochures of Hawaii. I knew I wouldn’t be joining Barb Johnson for a piña colada any time soon, but perusing the brochures certainly beat pacing the floor stressing about Mac’s malhag research. I expected it would be days before I heard anything, but I’d barely opened the first travel brochure when I got her call. Taking the curry with me, I flew out the door and floored it to Mac’s cottage.
When she offered me twenty-year-old brandy, I knew the news wouldn’t be good. As I cradled the glass in my hands, Mac’s calm melodious voice filled the small room. “As you know, the Penrose twins were two of the truly great witches. There is no one alive today who could match either of them so we, my apprentice and I—”
Wanda beamed.
“—decided that Elowyn had the best chance of defeating Demelza.”
“Nice theory,” I said, “but it has a couple of obvious flaws. First, Elowyn is dead, and second, she’s already tried to defeat Demelza and failed.”
“This time,” said Mac, “we intend to make her stronger with a spell.”
“Call me negative, but that doesn’t solve the problem of her being dead.” I noticed their expressions. “Don’t tell me there’s a spell to bring her back to life.”
Wanda nodded proudly. “Although technically, I guess it’s a magic potion rather than a spell.”
Mac chmed in, “Collecting the main ingredients may be a challenge. We need one of Elowyn’s bones and some blood from a living Hampton.”
I didn’t balk at the macabre ingredients. I was glad there was something I could do at last. Jumping to my feet, I said, “No problem.”
Wanda’s blue eyes opened wide. “You don’t mind digging up Elowyn’s grave?”
“Actually, I think persuading one of the Hamptons to part with their blood might be a bigger challenge. But I’ll get some even if I have to suck it out myself.”
“Hopefully that won’t be necessary,” said Mac dryly.
“Any particular bone you want from Elowyn?” I asked her.
“A small one would be best. Something that will be easy to grind and add to the cauldron along with the Hampton blood and the herbs.”
“Mmm. Want me to get some salt and pepper too?”
Mac stopped short of rolling her eyes. “Salt and pepper would ruin this potion,” she said in the tone of a teacher admonishing a cheeky student.
“So I guess you’re not going to drink it then.”
Mac looked as though she wanted to put me on detention for a month. She took a deep calming breath. “This is how we plan to proceed. We’ll summon Elowyn from beyond the grave and offer her the opportunity to save her descendents. When she agrees, we’ll give her the potion. It will transform her from a misty ghost to something more solid.”
When I examined the plan for flaws, I didn’t have far to go. “Bearing in mind Elowyn’s a misty ghost, if she drinks the potion, won’t it flow right out of her?”
“This is a magic potion,” said Wanda. “She’ll become solid with the first mouthful.”
I didn’t point out the obvious, that it was hard to take a mouthful when your lips were mist. Sometimes it’s best to accept the paranormal, just as I’d accepted the appearance and disappearance of Casper when I was a child.
Wanda put in, “It’s weird how you’ve always bitched about Lily and now you’re going to save her. You really do care about her, don’t you?”
“I’m doing this because Mom asked me to investigate. Anyway, I’m not saving Lily, I’m saving the baby.”
“Yeah, but you’re saving the baby for Lily.” Sometimes Wanda’s optimistic view of life was encouraging. Other times, like now, it was just irritating.
I started for the door. “Guess I’d better get on with the job. First stop Hampton House to find Elowyn’s remains.”
“Wait,” said Mac. “Elowyn’s bone has to be obtained at midnight.”
“On the dot?” Gee, what if my watch was slow?
“As close to midnight as possible, but any later than twelve-thirty and the spell won’t work. You’ll have to return another night.”
Neither she nor Wanda had mentioned that before, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t scared of the dark. Or graveyards. I wasn’t afraid of anything…or so I told myself. Later I learned there was something I feared very, very much.
And it wasn’t letting Orlando give me a kiss for luck. When he was done tickling my cheek, he dropped to the floor and tried to crawl up my jeans leg. Mac pulled him out and returned him to her shoulder. He nuzzled her neck. Suck-up.
She handed me something. “Please l
eave this in Elowyn’s coffin. It should have been buried with her, but the Hamptons didn’t realize its significance.”
I looked down at the purple feather we’d found in the wood. I’d be sure to leave it in the coffin. It might make amends for the bone I was going to steal.
Chapter Sixteen
Turned out Elowyn wasn’t buried in a graveyard. One phone call to Steven, who knew the history of Hampton House inside out, revealed she was in the crypt beneath its chapel. Built hundreds of years ago, the chapel had been extensively restored by my step-grandfather in the 1980s. Since then, all the Hampton weddings had been held there, and I have to say the beautiful setting was the high point of both Mom’s and Lily’s nuptials. It almost made up for their choice of husbands.
The key to the chapel was in the bunch Barb had left for me. At ten till midnight, I padded along the richly carpeted aisle, inhaling the scent of old furniture polish. During the weddings I had sat with the rest of the congregation, blissfully unaware of the macabre remains that lay beneath the floor. Now I headed for the cold, dank stairway that led to the crypt. No interments had been allowed for a very long time and I wasn’t surprised to find the wooden door locked. I tried every key Barb had given me, but none fit. What’s a girl to do? Well, I don’t know about the average girl, but I kicked my way through that old wood, ruining my favorite boots in the process.
Coughing and spluttering on sawdust, I stepped over the debris and shone my flashlight into the crypt. It stank of mold and damp and death. When I sneezed, the sound echoed as though all the bodies had caught a cold. Mind you, catching a cold in that chilly hole wouldn’t be difficult.
Moving deeper, I flashed my light along the coffins. The early Hamptons hadn’t worried too much about fancy designs and brass handles, but the coffins of the later Hamptons were more elaborate. Many of them rested in niches along the walls, others had pride of place in the centre of the crypt. I was surprised the wood hadn’t rotted away, but on closer inspection I saw it was new. Someone—probably Mr. Hampton during the restoration of the chapel—had also restored the coffins, thoughtfully supplying little name plaques for each one. I worked my way deeper into the crypt, reading each plaque until I found Elowyn Penrose Hampton, who had one of the best positions in the centre of the crypt. Good thing too. It made my job of breaking into her coffin a lot easier.
