Spring Showers Box-set

by Avell Kro

  The lounge is dim and, of course, the air reeks. A handful of well-dressed guests, all men, are

  relaxing on stuffed chairs and sofas, enjoying their smokes. I stop in the doorway, not sure what to

  do. The smokers glance up at me and stare. From their shocked, disapproving faces, you’d think I

  just walked into the boy’s locker room.

  An attendant in a hotel uniform comes over. “Can I help you, miss?” He’s young and about my

  height. The gold nametag on his lapel reads “Ravi.”

  “Um, I was wondering if I could get some matches.”

  He frowns. “Sorry, miss. This is the only room where smoking is permitted. Fire regulations, you—

  ”

  “Yes, I know. I’ll use them outside, I promise. And I won’t leave any cigarette butts on the grounds.” I

  lean close and whisper. “I’m here with my mother. You understand?”

  Wel , I’m not really lying. Everything I said is literally true.

  Ravi’s face tel s me he gets it. I need to sneak a few cigs when Mom is not around. He turns his

  back on the room, slips a hand into his vest pocket, and hands me a pack of matches.

  “Here you are, miss. Remember please: not in the hotel.”

  “I promise. Thank you so much!”

  Score one for Abby.

  §

  When I get back to my room, the first thing I do is check on Franklin. I tiptoe through the

  bathroom and open the door a crack. He is still sacked out on his bed and appears to be deep

  asleep.

  I change my clothes, put on jeans, thick socks, and a sweater. I set the dagger on the bedspread and

  sit down to study the consecration ritual. The dagger is one of four magical tools used by true

  magicians. One tool corresponds to each of the first four Springs. In the case of the dagger, it’s the

  Spring of Endurance. You’re actually supposed to make the wand first, but as usual, I’m doing

  things differently. The instructions call for the blade to be heated in a flame and then quenched in

  water. Then there’s a chant to summon the Elementals of Water.

  As I’m memorizing the verses, I hear a noise out in the hall. It sounds like Franklin’s door shutting.

  I jump up and run to my door. The corridor is dim, but at the far end, I see Franklin turning a

  corner. I haven’t even been to that end of the hall and have no idea where he’s going. I pull on my running shoes. Not bothering to tie the laces, I hurry after him.

  At the far end of the hallway, I come to an open door. It’s dark, but I can see narrow stairs leading

  up. I’m pretty sure this is where he went, and I call his name. No answer. I pause to tie my shoes

  and then climb the steps.

  It gets darker. I use the flashlight in my phone to light my way. The stairs turn and go up a second

  flight. At the top is a small door. I push it open and step out on the roof of Tamgrove Hall. The night

  is cool and misty. At the top of the sky, a half-moon glimmers behind thin gray clouds. In the light I

  spot Franklin, standing at the edge of the roof.

  Squeezing down a lump of panic, I step quietly toward him. I’m afraid to speak for fear it might

  make him jump. But what if he’s about to jump and I don’t speak?

  I try to make my voice casual. “Hey, Franklin. There you are. Pretty out here tonight.”

  He turns to me, eyes bright, and speaks with Mary’s inflection. “Oh, it is indeed lovely. Here is

  another place I was never allowed to come. I always wanted to view the estate from the rooftop.”

  “That’s nice. You might want to step toward me a little. Not stand so close to the edge.”

  She looks down and shrugs. “Of course, if it will put you more at ease.”

  She walks over, watching me with her luminous eyes. “I was asleep.”

  “I know. I thought it best to let you rest. Umm, is Franklin there? Is he okay?”

  “He is here.”

  That’s all she’s willing to tell me. “Okay. Well, I spoke with my friend Violet, and she gave me some

  instructions on what to do. If the magic works, it will bring the ghosts of Lady Alice and Sir Charles

  to us and force them to confess the truth.”

  Mary looks intrigued. “You can do this?”

  “Wel , I hope so. We need to figure out where. Violet said it should be someplace they are familiar

  with, but I don’t think we ought to do it inside the house where someone might see us.”

  “The river,” Mary says. “By the bridge, where Lady Alice’s coffin passed and Sir Charles saw my

  corpse hanging.”

  “Right. I guess that makes sense. We’ll have to sneak out later tonight. Now if this works, Mary,

  and they acknowledge the truth, you will keep your promise, right? Leave Franklin alone?”

  “Yes, Fighting Eagle. I will honor my word. In truth, I grow weary now and would be grateful to

  move on. But I must have acknowledgement of the wrongs they did me.”

  “I understand. I’ll do my best.”

  Mary bows her head. When she lifts it, I see Franklin’s expression. He glances around and then

  grabs hold of me, terrified.

  “Holy shit! Where the hell are we?”

  §

  I leave Franklin resting and watching a video in his room while I go to prepare for tonight’s

  exciting performances. I lock my door, turn off my phone, and col ect the stuff I’ll need for the

  consecration ritual. I had thought to go outside and find some secluded spot on the grounds to do

  the magic, but now I’m thinking the roof would be better—much less likely to be interrupted up

  there.

  I set everything out on my bed: the dagger, candle, matches, cup, and water bottle. Staring at them,

  I feel more than a little apprehensive. I decide I’d better start by centering myself with the Daily

  Ablution.

  Seated on the bed, I breathe slowly and focus at the root of my spine. I visualize the clear water of

  the first Spring flowing into me and contemplate the Principle of the Love of Truth. After a while, I

  let the water move up to my solar plexus and contemplate Endurance. In Circle of Harmony

  training, Endurance means courage, strong purpose, and persistence. Only through these qualities

  can a magician overcome the fear and terror that block progress on the path.

  Suddenly I see myself standing before a fountain, clear water spilling down over gray boulders. This

  image of the Spring of Endurance is familiar to me.

  But I’m not alone.

  A young woman appears in front of me, tall and slender, with curling black hair and dark, sparkling

  eyes. She smiles at me fondly.

  “Hel o, Fighting Eagle.”

  “Annie! Oh, it’s so good to see you.”

  If Violet is my magical mentor in this world, Annie Renshaw is my guide in the spirit world. In life

  she was like my great-great-great-aunt. She appeared to me in visions last summer in Harmony

  Springs and helped me get through my struggles. She was present in the last century when the evil

  entity that haunted us was first formed, and she was there in the circle at the mouth of Bliss Bayou

  last July, when we finally banished him for good.

  “I haven’t talked with you in so long.” I’m happy to see her but also anxious. Maybe all of this is

  even more serious than I’ve been thinking.

  “I had a feeling you needed me tonight.”

  “Oh God, yes. I don’t know if I’m up to this, Annie.” I don’t have to tell her what I’m planning to do.

  She can easily read it in my mind.

  “You are bei
ng challenged,” Annie says. “As you know, we who walk the path of the true magic are

  sometimes called upon to oppose evil, to undo wrongs, to help other souls of their journeys. Such a

  duty lies before you now.”

  “Yeah, I realize that. I’m just not sure I can do it.”

  “I do not mean to chide you, Abigail. But part of the reason you find this task so intimidating is that

  you have neglected your studies. You are not in practice for magical work. It is not easy to balance

  the demands of the world with the demands of the spirit. But that is what true magicians are called

  to do.”

  I recognize the truth in what she’s saying. It’s like I haven’t run the number of miles I need to each

  week. I’ve allowed my conditioning to lapse. “I’ve got no excuse,” I tell her, feeling miserable.

  “Take heart.” Annie tilts her head toward the fountain. “Another reason this task has come to you is

  to test your Endurance. That is why you must make your dagger.”

  I look at the tumbling waters and nod. “I get it. I’ll do my best.”

  “That is all we can ever do. As you learned at the Fountain of Bliss: do your best and then let go of

  the results.” She starts to turn away and then pauses. “Oh, one more piece of advice I can offer:

  Remember, you are not asked to do this alone. You will have a friend with you in the circle.”

  “You mean Franklin? But he’s a nervous wreck. He’s the one I have to help.”

  “He is not without strength, but all of his emotional nature is turned inward. He needs to stand up

  for himself in the outer world. That is his lesson. Call on him for aid if you need to. His response

  may surprise.”

  “Okay. .” It’s hard to take that in, never mind believe it.

  Annie raises her hand. “Farewell, Fighting Eagle, dear companion on the path of true magic.”

  My eyes blink open. I stare at black night outside my window. I sit for a few minutes trying to

  absorb what Annie told me. Then I shut my eyes and go back to the Daily Ablution.

  6. By the Earth on which we stand, I bind you

  spirit to my command

  “Two clueless teenagers wandering the countryside at night,” Franklin says. “This looks way too

  much like a bad horror movie.”

  “We’re not clueless,” I answer. “We’ve lots of got clues. I might even say we’re clue-full.” Franklin is talking to vent his anxiety, and I’m talking back to keep up his nerve.

  And mine.

  We’re walking along the muddy road, sidestepping ruts and puddles. Tamgrove Hall with its

  Christmas lights glitters behind us. The dark woods lie ahead. The rain from earlier today has

  passed, and the sky is clear, a half-moon floating over the trees. The fake ruins stand pale and

  spooky in the moonlight.

  I was a little worried about getting out of the hotel so late. But Franklin sarcastically reminded me

  that the hotel staff are not our parents. He was right. The night clerk barely glanced up as we

  crossed the lobby, just before midnight, and walked out the front door.

  I carry a bottle of water and have candles and matches stuffed in my coat pockets. And my dagger.

  The rough metal on the hilt feels reassuring.

  An hour ago, I consecrated the dagger. Standing on the roof of Tamgrove Hall, I visualized the

  Spring of Endurance and chanted to summon the Elementals. I heated the blade in a candle flame

  and then quenched it in the cup of water. Finally, I held the dagger over my head and invoked

  Lebab, the Spirit of Harmony Springs, asking that he bless the dagger and instill in me all the

  qualities of Endurance.

  That moment, I felt the power of the Springs flowing into my body. It was like the surge of

  endorphins I get sometimes in the middle of a long run. For the first time since last summer, I felt

  charged with magic.

  Which is good. Because my work is really cut out for me tonight: raising a pair of five-hundred-

  year-old-ghosts, binding them to my will.

  Really not sure I’m up to this.

  I’m a seventeen-year-old kid walking down a deserted road in the middle of the night in a foreign

  country. All alone—except for a friend who is haunted, possessed, and prone to panic attacks.

  Just a night in the life of a true magician.

  §

  We enter the woods and follow the road around the base of the hill. Tree trunks line both sides of the trail, and the moon is mostly hidden. In the dark, I can just make out Franklin’s face, tight and

  grim. Somewhere in the branches, an owl is hooting.

  At last we come to the bridge. The road turns here to go over the river but also continues on this

  side. So this is a spot where three roads meet—which, I know from my reading, is supposedly

  perfect for magic, especially calling up the dead.

  That thought should be encouraging. Instead it makes me shiver.

  There’s more light here, moonbeams fluttering on the surface of the river. I set down the water

  bottle and turn to Franklin.

  “Are you ready to do this?”

  Mary Hul ’s meek little voice answers. “Yes. I must face them.”

  “All right then.”

  I take out the candles and matches. After lighting three of the tea candles, I place them on the

  ground in the middle of the road. I position Franklin in front of the flames and take out my dagger.

  Lifting it high, I mentally invoke my power.

  Next, I trace a circle with the three candles in the center. Walking around with the dagger pointed

  out from my body, I envision blue fire flowing from the point. I pause at each of the four directions

  to draw a pentagram. When the circle is closed, I visualize it extending into a sphere, a blue

  translucent globe of protection. I go back and stand beside Franklin.

  Raising both arms high, I speak in a forceful voice. “On this night, beneath this moon, I call on the

  true magic. I am Fighting Eagle, initiate of the Circle of Harmony. I call upon our Friends of the

  Elements, of Fire, Water, and Earth. I ask your aid and blessing on my purpose: to summon the

  spirits of Lady Alice and Sir Charles Huntington, to bind them to speak the truth of that which

  passed in life between them and the maid, Mary Hull. I call them not in anger or desire for power,

  but in the service of justice, so that Mary Hull may find peace.”

  Lowering my arms, I see that the night has changed. By casting the magic circle, I have altered our

  vibrations and moved us to a different level, a different place. In occult writings, this place has

  many names: astral plane, formative realm, spirit world. It’s the place I see into in my visions.

  At present, I can clearly see the blue globe of protection surrounding our circle. Beyond the sphere,

  tiny creatures writhe in the air, bright orange like embers. They look like little lizards or

  amphibians. Then I recall seeing them in a drawing in the Book of Lebab. They are salamanders,

  Elementals of Fire. Just as I’m taking this in, I spot silvery shapes floating on the river. They look

  like huge swans, but I know them for the Elementals of Water. I hear a shuffling noise behind me. A

  group of horned deer watch me silently from among the trees—Elementals of Earth.

  Wow. A lot more show than I expected. But I sense they are all here to help me.

  “Holy crap,” Franklin murmurs. “You really are like Doctor Strange.”

  I resume the ritual, gripped by a sense of urgency—of power but also of awe and fear.

  “To this prot
ected circle, by the aid of our Friends of Earth, Water, and Fire, I summon the ghost of

  Lady Alice Huntington, who dwelled in Tamgrove Hall. In life you knew Mary Hull. I call you here

  now to speak with us.”

  “Picture her in your mind, Mary,” I tell her. “Call her to the circle.” I pick up the bottle in my free

  hand and pour a libation.

  “By the waters, bright and deep,

  I call thee, spirit, from thy sleep.

  By this fire, clear and bright,

  I call thee forth into the light.

  “By stone and sand, by bank and hill,

  I bind thee spirit to my will.

  By the Earth on which we stand,

  I bind thee, spirit, to my command.”

  I repeat the chants, over and over, raising power. The blue sphere sparkles and ripples. Beyond it,

  the Elementals gaze intently.

  Just as I’m beginning to think it’s not working, something appears near the foot of the bridge—a

  shadow at first, but then it quivers and takes on dimension. A shape flows toward us, and the blue

  globe lightens. The barrier is nearly transparent as the figure passes through. Franklin sucks in a

  breath.

  The ghost of Lady Alice stands just inside the circle, a slim woman in a long gown with wide skirts.

  She looks just like the figure I saw in the lobby, except her neck is unbroken. I’m not sure why that

  is, but I’m glad. It makes her look less frightening.

  Her lips are parted, her eyes wide. “Who are you that called me? What do you want of me?”

  “No harm,” I answer. “Only good.”

  Beside me, I notice that Franklin is no longer Franklin. By the magic of the circle, he’s taken on the

  form of Mary Hull.

  “I know you, Lady Alice,” she says.

  The ghost stares at her. “And I know you, Mary Hull. Wretched girl. Thief! You stole my child in the

  night.”

  “My child!” Mary says. “Mine and Sir Charles’.”

  “Yes, you seduced him, you wicked girl.”

  “I did not. He forced himself on me. He gave me no choice. And then, when I came to be with child, you both threatened to turn me out to starve, unless I gave up my babe. You were the thieves, not

  I.”

  Lady Alice looks shaken. “No, it was a kindness, a great kindness, to raise the child as our own. We

  meant to give him everything. Left with you he would have been a bastard, son of a whore. We