The Oracle Series: Volumes 1-3

by Cynthia D. Witherspoon

  “Yeah. The sooner the better. Joanna is meeting us over at the house in two hours. You’ve got to be ready.”

  The more I thought about what Elliot said, the bigger the knot grew as it formed in my throat. We were filming. As in television.

  What in the world was I doing?

  “What you were meant to do.” Cyrus spoke up as if I had spoken my concerns out loud. “You were right. He was extremely pleased with your decision.”

  Cyrus didn’t have to go into any further details. He could only mean Apollo. I made a note to ask him about how his contacts with a god worked.

  “I’ll be just a minute longer then I’ll come to keep you company.”

  Elliot started to come towards me but stopped when I shook my head, barely missing being stabbed in the eye with an eyeliner pencil in the process.

  “No, take your time. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Me? Scared? I don’t know the meaning of the word.” Elliot waved my words away as if he rushed into my room every day. “Are you really ok? I’m sure we can put this off for a little longer if you need to.”

  “Elliot, I have been in this chair for a good hour now, and from the looks I keep getting from your appearance people, I might be here for another hour. I do not want to repeat this process if I don’t have to.”

  Elliot laughed. “Then we’ll do it. See you in a little while, Eva.”

  “See you soon.” I muttered as he left the room. Cyrus took the papers from my lap as the women continued their work. I think I dozed off because one of them tugged at my arm.

  “Ta da!” She cried out as I opened my eyes to the mirror she held in front of me. “What do you think?”

  I couldn’t respond. The whispers I had been so successful at holding back were rushing forward. There was no time to prepare myself as there had been in the hotel room when Cyrus and I were practicing. I stared at the mirror with an expression of horror as the woman who I recognized from the newspaper drawings in my lap formed in the glass. Her eyes were hardened with a look of hatred. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. She held my gaze and began to speak.

  “You have come to visit with me.”

  “What…” I knew Cyrus was by my side. I could feel him there. He was speaking, but I couldn’t hear him over the woman. She continued, clutching at her throat as if trying to hide the wound stretched across it.

  “I’ll see you soon enough, Sibyl. We have much to discuss.”

  “The door, Little One. Close it. Now.”

  Cyrus. He managed to break through the whispers and refocus my thoughts. I imagined my door, watched it appear across the image and slammed it shut. Cyrus had wrestled the hand mirror away from the woman, setting it aside face down on the table before pushing her away from me.

  “Out, all of you.” Cyrus didn’t yell, but he didn’t need to. His voice was one they dared not disobey. I used the time it took for them to leave to try to gather up my thoughts. I felt disoriented and nauseous. When they were all gone, Cyrus knelt down by my feet. He took my chin in his hand to better examine my face.

  “Are you alright?”

  I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder. Cyrus held me until my body stopped trembling, saying nothing as I told him of the woman I’d seen as well as the words she had spoken. He was good to me. Cyrus didn’t try his usual tactic of telling me I didn’t have to go. Or offer me a chance to run away from Black Hollow as fast as possible. Instead, he let me work through the fear until I was well enough to pull away on my own. I wanted to go back to my little room to cry, but a promise is a promise. Besides, I wasn’t kidding when I told Elliot this beauty routine was too much to handle.

  “Sorry.” I mumbled, reaching up to wipe my eyes then stopping before I smeared anything. “They are going to think I am insane.”

  “They already do.” Cyrus offered me a small smile. “I believe the exact phrase the women were using was ‘difficult diva’?”

  I wanted to smile, but couldn’t manage it. Instead, I shuddered. “Cyrus, if this can happen here, in a safe place, what happens when we get to the house?”

  “Remember your door, Eva.” Cyrus took my hands and squeezed them. “I will teach you more as time passes, but for now, believe each mirror in that house is covered by the very image you created. Allow the spirit to speak with you only through Apollo’s mirror.”

  “How do I keep them quiet?” I leaned forward. “The whispers. She was talking to me. I could hear her.”

  “Block them out. You have to; otherwise, you can truly go insane from it.” Cyrus glanced around the empty room. “If it becomes too much, ask Apollo for assistance. Guidance. He has always aided his Sibyls. You are no different.”

  “Is there a prayer, a chant?” I stood up to pace the room. “I’ve never talked to a god before. Do I give him an offering?”

  I didn’t count my little spell back in New York. I wasn’t so sure it had qualified as actual contact with a deity since I never heard anything back from him.

  “You already have by promising to showcase him on this project of yours.” Cyrus stood along with me, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Talk to him as you would to me. Well, not exactly like you talk to me. Be respectful.”

  “Hey, I can be respectful when I need to be.”

  It was Jonathan who knocked on the door to interrupt us. He gasped at the sight of me, clamoring with excitement over my new face as he pulled me over to the chair. As he pulled rollers from my hair, I looked to Cyrus who was still standing in place. Apollo could guide me, but it was Cyrus who would protect me.

  I was sure about that.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Black Hollow Murder House looked exactly like it did in the picture. In fact, without its horrible nickname or history, it was a house I could see myself settling down in one day. Bay windows gleamed in the sun. The black shutters contrasted nicely against the outside’s white paint. It was far enough from the road to block out any noise from passing cars. Not that there were many cars driving past it. This place was out in the middle of nowhere.

  “Welcome to Black Hollow!” A chubby woman decked out in full Victorian regalia stepped off the front porch. She grabbed for Elliot’s hand to shake it with a warm smile. “You must be Elliot and Eva. I’m Joanna. So nice to be able to put a face with the voice I’ve been talking to on the phone.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.” Elliot returned her shake. “Is Joey Lawson here already? Has he talked to you about the interview?”

  “Yes. I believe I’ve talked to him. Your people have been here since 9 this morning, setting everything up. Several of them made sure to tell me what I needed to say.”

  “We need you to tell us the truth.” I spoke up as I moved away from the car to stand by Elliot’s side. “Otherwise, this is never going to work.”

  “The truth?” Joanna smiled. “Well, now. What fun is that?”

  “We don’t need fun.” I glanced at Elliot. “In order for our evidence to speak for itself, we have got to know the whole story. This is where you come in.”

  “I was teasing, my dear.” Joanna’s friendly smile had turned cold. She must have decided that Elliot was more to her liking because she took him by the arm and led him inside. I was left outside alone with Cyrus, tempted not to follow them inside.

  “Hey, McRayne!”

  The man I recognized as Joey Lawson had opened the front door with a large black camera slung over his shoulder. “You coming?”

  “Yeah.” I allowed myself one last moment of peace before I climbed up the stairs after him. “I’m coming.”

  ***

  “It was a horrible tragedy. Black Hollow had never seen such violence before, and hasn’t since that fateful day in 1876.”

  I had to make an effort not to roll my eyes at Joanna’s theatrics. We were seated on an overstuffed Victorian couch better suited for a parlor in Charleston than this small house in Kansas. In fact, the whole place seemed to be mad
e up in the most garish Victorian fashions imaginable.

  Much like Joanna herself. She was simpering now, overcome by the deaths of two as he continued on with his interview. I caught Joey standing off to the side, struggling to open a piece of gum while holding the camera steady and tried not to laugh. I wondered if he knew this was what he was signing up for when he agreed to join our little show.

  I doubted it.

  “How are you related to the Tillotsons, Ms. Whitaker?”

  Elliot had leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he listened to her explain how she was the daughter of Samuel’s great uncle. Not direct granddaughter as we had been led to believe. I made a mental strike in my head of the first lie she had been caught in, promising to look up her history as soon as I could.

  “I was raised here, you see. These very walls speak of the murder which happened here. Poor Catherine.”

  Joanna was on the verge of tears again, so I stepped in. “Tell us about them.”

  “What?” She paused, either for the effect or because she was surprised I had finally spoken. Either way, the woman had the decency to stop her ridiculous dramatics.

  “The murders. What happened that night?”

  “Oh, well. It is told that Samuel flew into a rage after he discovered Catherine had a lover. He had adored her, you see. He even had built this house for them to raise a family in.”

  “But tax records show Samuel bought the house in 1872.” I had no problems interrupting her second lie. “It was already here when they came to Kansas from Tennessee. He didn’t build anything.”

  Joanna glared at me. “Well, perhaps I have my facts wrong. But he did, at least, buy this house for her. And they were madly in love.”

  “How did he find out about this lover?” I mirrored Elliot, leaning forward as if I were engrossed by her tale.

  “Well, now, it was such a scandal!” Joanna threw a gloved hand to her forehead. “He walked in on them in the midst of a passionate embrace. Her lover got away, but poor Catherine! She met the edge of her husband’s very blade that night.”

  “I don’t understand.” I gestured to Cyrus who brought my folder to me. I thumbed through the paperwork and found what I was looking for. “According to the Wichita papers, there was a blizzard during the week of the murder. And it had been snowing for weeks prior to that. How could a lover get to this house – which is out in the middle of nowhere – and get away without freezing to death? Besides, we don’t know if Catherine was stabbed or not. Even the police reports are unclear on how she actually died.”

  “Can we take a break please?” Joanna was positively furious as she pulled a fan out from her elegant costume and slapped herself on the knee. Joey made moves to cut the camera off. She made sure he sat the equipment down before she turned on me.

  “What are you trying to do?” Our client snapped at me. “You ask me questions but refuse to believe my answers. How dare you!”

  “I told you outside and I’m telling you now, we are here for the truth.” I returned her glare as I gestured to the papers in my lap. “There is this new thing called the internet. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The people who watch television also utilize those services. They can easily pull up the information you give to us. If it is wrong, it will do more harm than good. Your theatrics are fantastic, I’m sure. But I did not travel all the way here to be lied to.”

  “Lied to?” Joanna was huffing. “Why, I never! You understand, don’t you?” She turned on Elliot like a cat. “You understand how important the legend is around these parts. It is what keeps our town on the map because tourists want to believe the tragedy.”

  “Yes, I do.” Elliot disentangled himself from the grip the woman had on him. “But Eva is right, ma’m. We are doing an investigation, not a travel show. We need to know what really happened so it can support what the spirits are telling us.”

  “There are no facts!” Joanna stood up in a swirl of skirts and spit. “We don’t know what happened.”

  I caught sight of Joey finally getting into that piece of gum. I noticed to the small red light on the camera was blinking. God bless him, our cameraman had turned the camera back on when she wasn’t looking.

  “Alright, alright.” I stepped in, trying to act as a mediator. “Let’s start over, shall we? Joey, grab your camera. Let’s start with what we do know. Two people died here, right?”

  As Joey raised the camera up, Joanna’s anger fell away to the genteel façade she had when we arrived. She sank back into her chair with a nod. “Yes.”

  “Catherine Tillotson was believed to be murdered by her husband, Samuel Tillotson, who then killed himself in the backyard?”

  “Yes. It was,” She looked up to me and the tone in her voice fell a notch. “That is where they found him with the knife buried in his chest.”

  “Ok.” I started to pace, but there wasn’t enough room with all the knickknacks and tables cluttering the room. I settled on tapping my fingers against my chin instead. “And it is believed this place is haunted.”

  “Yes.” Joanna’s face lit up as she saw an opportunity for the theatrics to continue. “We see them, you know. Catherine and Samuel. They appear before us in the shape of wisps and shadows.”

  “What else?” Elliot shifted in his seat and I could see the interest in his eyes.

  “Well, things move on their own accord. The knickknacks and such. I believe Catherine loves to have them in her home. She always loved such delicate things.”

  “Ms. Whitaker,” I made sure the underlying warning was clear in my words. “The facts and nothing more.”

  “Oh, very well. Come see the rest of the house I’ll show you the diary Samuel kept when they first moved here.”

  Joanna led us up a thin staircase and into an even smaller hallway. When she reached the final room to her left, she opened the door. “This was their bedroom. We had it restored to fit the time period, just as every other room in the Tillotson home.”

  Elliot stepped inside, but before he could utter a single word of warning, I followed in behind him to be faced with a large oval mirror. There were no whispers in my head this time; only the loud screams of the woman facing me in me the glass. She was covered in the blood which ran from her neck. The moment I stepped into the room, I felt a sharp pain rip across my throat as her anger overwhelmed my mind. I’m afraid I screamed along with her as she reached out, her arms slipping through the glass as if it were liquid.

  My screams were silent. I could feel myself trying to get it out, but there was nothing. No sound. No echo. Nothing.

  “Eva!” Elliot grabbed me, pulling me from the room so quickly I crumpled into a heap on the carpet. He then turned to a bewildered Joanna. “Close the door. Now!”

  I heard the door slam shut as Elliot gathered me up in his arms. I couldn’t shake the fear surrounding me. I knew the woman I’d seen was Catherine. I had been blindsided by the mirror itself and she took advantage of it to scare the daylights out of me. Elliot sat me back down on the sofa with Cyrus crouching down beside me.

  “Little One, Eva,” Cyrus reached up and brushed his hand over my neck. “You are bleeding.”

  “No, I’m not.” I was trying to get a hold of myself as my voice came back. I sounded like I had swallowed a bucket full of nails. “She didn’t touch me.”

  “She didn’t have to.” Cyrus lifted up his hand to show me his fingers were streaked with blood. “Catherine Tillotson shared more than her presence with you, it seems.”

  “She shared her wounds.” I finished his sentence, staring incredulously at him. “How is this possible? Why can’t I feel it?”

  “What is going on here?” Joanna was standing off to the side, upset she was no longer the center of our camera’s attention. No, such an honor was reserved for me now. “I thought you didn’t want dramatic.”

  “Take care of her.” Cyrus gestured to Elliot from his position by my feet. “She will only be in the way.”

  “Damn you, no.” E
lliot looked as if he were going to knock Cyrus clear across the room as he put his cell phone to his ear. “Let me get a doctor in here to take a look at Eva. She needs help. That cut looks pretty serious.”

  “It will heal on its own before any physician can get here.” Cyrus stood and faced Elliot. “If my words weren’t true, if she wasn’t what she is, then your Eva would be dead by now. Obviously, she is very much alive. There is nothing to worry about. Now go. Take care of the spectator. I will ensure the Sibyl’s safety.”

  “Spectator? Why, I never! And in my very own house!” Joanna was so upset by Cyrus, her lily white complexion became red with anger. “I have every right to be here if any of this footage is going to be shown on television.”

  “Ma’am, Eva has had an injury. It is best if we give her some room.”

  Elliot sounded tired as he took the woman’s elbow to lead her outside. I could hear him as they stood out on the porch. He was reassuring her I would be fine and that Theia Productions was not going to sue her. I could tell he had his hands full, but I didn’t have the strength to go outside to save him. I reached to my throat and traced the jagged line stretching across my skin. I took a brief moment to wonder if I would end up with a scar as I pulled my hand away. A quick glance down at my shirt told me it was ruined. After I finished my brief examination, I turn to my keeper for answers.

  “I didn’t die because of the immortality clause in this whole Sybil contract, right?”

  Cyrus didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. I could see the affirmation in his dark eyes as he busied himself with examining me.

  “How could she harm me? Cyrus, Catherine wasn’t contained by the glass. She reached through it.”

  Cyrus lifted himself up to sit on the couch beside me when he was satisfied the wound had indeed closed on its own. I was sure he did it to buy time to find his answer. I wasn’t mistaken. When Cyrus spoke, his words were slow and careful.

  “As I told you many times before, Eva, you have much training to do in the event something like what just happened does indeed occur. The spirit world is one of power. Certain souls have more than others. You must be prepared.”