Abby felt her body growing warmer. She began to vibrate, but Faustine and Elda held her firmly in place. The beams of light grew brighter, larger, until she couldn't feel her body at all. She felt as if she had swallowed the sun. A billion rays of light burst from every cell in her body. She lost connection to Faustine, Elda, the stone beneath her feet, the sense of skin or hair or limbs.
Energy, vibrant and hot and heavenly, coursed in every direction. She might have been a glowing waterfall cascading down a mountain ravine or a geyser spitting into the sky. Time dissolved. She knew only the sweet oblivion of oneness with all that existed.
When it ended, Abby felt the earth drive up to meet her. She fell forward into Elda's strong embrace. The cold moved into her like an avalanche and sucked the breath from her body.
An uncontrollable sob rose up from the depths of her belly. The sorrow at the loss of the light, at the return to her aloneness, overwhelmed her. She pressed her face into Elda's shoulder and cried. Behind her, Faustine continued to grasp her shoulders. He squeezed firmly and she heard him whisper an incantation. Elda too murmured, and soon the weight of grief softened and then slid away.
Abby lifted her head up, raw now as the cold bit her wet cheeks.
"Pretty amazing, huh?" Elda asked, smiling.
****
"It's truly unbelievable," Helena announced, striding into the oratory with a spin. Her red and yellow dress fanned out in a cascade of fabric as she twirled. "I feel like a new witch."
Elda laughed and clapped, standing and hugging her old friend.
"Thank the Goddess," she said, holding Helena at arm's length. "You look like a new witch."
Helena laughed and spun again before settling into a chair.
"The question now is how to utilize Abby's blood to the greatest benefit."
"We have to be back in the hospitals," Helena urged.
Elda shook her head and frowned.
"I don't think so. They've become overrun by power and money. I'm not sure that anyone is getting healed anymore. We would be met with suspicion and perhaps outright persecution. Victor mentioned a free clinic that they created in Chicago."
"Oh yes, please, I am so ready to be back in the world."
Elda smiled, but as so often lately, her eyes looked troubled.
"We performed the shielding spell on Abby and the child," Elda changed the subject.
"Oh how lovely. Did she enjoy her light body?"
"Immensely."
Elda returned to the pages before her.
"From New Orleans?" Helena asked.
Elda nodded.
"Yes. I keep thinking if I read them enough times, the author and book title will miraculously appear."
****
Sebastian scanned the titles in the library. The books shined as if each had been dusted and polished. Titles in gold and black cursive shone in the candlelight.
He took out a title called The Life Beyond, flipped through it quickly and returned it to the shelf. He tried two more, but didn't find what he searched for. Finally, he picked a thin, tattered book, nearly swallowed by the ornate volumes surrounding it, and sat down.
Fifty-two pages of tiny cursive writing. Sebastian's eyes ached before he finished the introduction.
"And I told her that I would bring her back. I would find a way and I did. A decade of searching, experimenting. The dead will rise again," he read.
The door to the library creaked open and Sebastian stuffed the book into the back of his jeans.
Oliver stepped into the room, not seeing him at first. He moved toward the fireplace and then stopped, noticing Sebastian.
"Insomnia following you as well tonight?" Oliver asked, plopping into a sunken chair.
"Yeah." Sebastian tried to conceal the tremor in his voice. He felt criminal, as if he'd nearly been caught looking at pornography instead of a book in Ula's own library.
"Tried Helena's tinctures, some yin yoga, I even read half a book on the uses for compost, but here I am. Walking the halls like a cat."
Sebastian faked a yawn and stood from his chair.
"Probably better give sleep another shot," he mumbled, making his way to the door.
As he stepped into the hallway, the book fell from the back of his pants. It hit the wood floor with a thud and he saw Oliver's eyes wander to the cover. Sebastian stooped and grabbed it, pressing it against his chest.
"Goodnight," he added.
As the door to the library swung closed, Sebastian saw Oliver watching him uncertainly.
****
The next day, Abby stepped out of the castle. She pulled her dark cloak tighter around her body. The wind whipped and howled. A storm was coming. She moved down the steps slowly, carefully avoiding patches of ice. From the window, she had glimpsed Sebastian near the lagoon. She searched for him along the water's edge, but saw no one.
As she took the path that wound through the cherry trees, shrunken in winter, she spotted him. He stood on a faraway bluff with Julian. Even her keen senses could not decipher their words, but Julian's hands flew as he spoke and he looked angry. Abby watched for several minutes until Julian grabbed Sebastian's arm and pulled him out of sight.
She returned to the castle, wandering the rooms until she found Oliver in the dining room. He sat at a small table reading a paperback and eating a bowl of something that smelled like curry.
"Hey Abby pants," he called and held up his book. "Ever read Eckhart Tolle? He's my man!"
She smiled and shook her head no, pulling out the chair next to him.
"I have a question for you."
"Shoot," he said.
"What's Julian like?"
"Julian?" Oliver studied her face. "Can I preface your question with a question? How come you're asking?"
She sighed and picked up his book, glancing at the words without really seeing them.
"I get a funny feeling maybe, and I'm curious. Tell me about him."
Seemingly satisfied with her ambiguous answer, Oliver leaned back in his chair.
"He's awesome. He's a witch who does what it takes. Faustine once told me Julian lives by his own set of rules. He believes in the witches' oath and he follows the laws of the universe impeccably, but he also has his own reasons for what he does and he adheres to those as well."
"Do you trust him?"
"With my life. He's different, that's true enough, but I get him. He's good to the marrow of his bones, Abby. I don't know what he was like before his wife died. Helena mentioned a few times that her death changed him, which is no big surprise."
"But he was reckless as your teacher, wasn't he? When you first arrived at Ula?" Oliver had mentioned a couple of experiences with Julian that had given Abby pause, including forcing him to eat nutmeg until he hallucinated.
"Unconventional," Oliver corrected. "Not reckless in my mind, though Elda and Faustine might have viewed his methods that way. He pushed me, he challenged me. With Julian, I learned what I could do. That training proved invaluable. Do you know how many Vepars would have killed me by now if not for Julian?"
"Well probably only one," Abby teased.
He laughed.
"True enough, but the point is Julian understood that life isn't a dress rehearsal. If I wanted to hunt Vepars then I had to stare down death and live to tell the tale. Elda, Helena and even Faustine live in a different kind of reality. They don't face the enemy head-on, they cast spells, they collaborate and plot. I thought of Julian's tactics as military style. He prepares you for what lies ahead and he reminds you of what's at stake. So, tell me about your funny feeling."
Abby looked toward the window, unsure of how much to say. She imagined the dark look on Julian's face as he spoke to Sebastian.
"I get the feeling he and Sebastian have a relationship that I'm not aware of. I saw them arguing outside just now."
Oliver nodded, considering.
"Julian found him in France. Maybe he finally got a change to chew his ass for blowing them off in New Y
ork."
Abby hadn't considered that. Julian had probably been very angry when Sebastian disappeared from the hotel in New York. In the chaos of everything else that had happened, that detail had seemed inconsequential. She wanted to believe Oliver's theory, but something in Julian's expression revealed a deeper quarrel between him and Sebastian.
Chapter 21
A week later, Abby's mom checked into the spa.
Ezra guided her to a room and instructed her to get undressed and lie on the massage table. Specially designed purification candles lit the room and a blend of oils, created by Helena, wafted from a diffuser. Even the music was magic. A creation of Dante's that incorporated beats meant to train the mind combined with the sounds of a magical flute that when played lulled the listener into a trancelike state.
"Ready for me?" Ezra asked, slipping into the room and closing the door.
Becky lay on the table in the candlelit room, a linen sheet covering her body. Facedown, Ezra saw only the back of Becky's head and the birdlike bones of her shoulders and back.
"Mmm-hmmm," Becky murmured.
The spa weekend had been Helena's idea. As a healer, she knew how much progress could be made in a weekend of healing touch and, more importantly, it offered them access to Becky's mind and body. Any other option would have created suspicion, but when Abby told her mother that she had booked her a weekend at the spa, Becky accepted.
Helena had not met Ezra, but Victor insisted she would be the perfect addition. Ezra, a nurse and a healer by nature, had also studied massage.
Ezra knew a space in Chicago they could rent for the weekend. They equipped the Spa Bed and Breakfast with massage rooms and an array of elixirs, both magic and not, for use in divining the source of Becky's continued unraveling.
Ezra rubbed a blend of almond oil and lavender on her hands. The oil sat in a stone basin filled with raw amethyst. The gem assisted in sleep and also clearing negative energy.
Resting her palms on Becky's back, she felt the woman stiffen beneath her touch.
"Try to focus on your breath. Take a big inhale through your nose, hold it, and release through your mouth to a count of six. Great, and one more time."
As Becky's breath grew deeper, Ezra felt her muscles begin to release. Gradually her body softened. Ezra massaged her back, pressing into the knots of muscle. She felt a chaos of energy swirling through the woman. Sorrow and fear flowed from her in bursts that tingled through Ezra's hands and arms. Despite the protective barriers Ezra had placed around herself before the massage, touching Abby's mother still drained her. When an hour had passed, she placed her hands on the back of Becky's head.
"Helena will join you now for the cranial sacral massage," Ezra told her, leaving the room. Becky did not stir.
Helena sat on a chair in the hallway. She had pulled her long auburn hair into a bun and she wore a simple white shirt with black pants.
"How'd it go?" she whispered, cocking her head toward the door.
Ezra yawned and gently massaged her shoulder. She would need a massage now too.
"She's got a lot pent up in that little body," Ezra explained. "A lot of fear that has wound itself tight."
"Any visions?" Helena asked.
"No, but I've never been prone to visions. I did feel her energy though, and it's stuck all over the place," Ezra explained.
"Okay, thanks, Ezra." Helena touched Ezra's hands, allowing a bit of her energy to flow into the other witch.
Ezra sighed and smiled.
"Thank you."
Helena went into the room. Becky breathed long and slow, fast asleep.
"I'm going to touch your head now, Becky," Helena explained, but Becky did not respond.
Helena pressed her hands into Becky's scalp. She massaged along the back of her skull and down her neck. As her hands moved and pressed, she closed her eyes and focused on transitioning Becky into deeper states of relaxation.
Helena, an air element, could manipulate the mind. The visions, the secrets, had begun for her in childhood. After moving into the Coven of Ula, she worked for many years with Faustine on developing her psychic abilities; however, they often went unused. Helena struggled with guilt when she invaded a person's mind without their consent.
To aid in her psychic work with Becky, Faustine had given Helena the Crystal Pendant of Sight. The crystal helped magnify the energetic connection between the two minds. More importantly, it could store thoughts and memories retrieved during mind exchanges.
She slung the delicate silver chain around her head and situated the crystal over her third eye. If she could conjure enough energy, the crystal would channel Becky's memories and Helena would be able to examine them.
As she massaged, Helena caught glimpses of Becky's inner state. Colors, mostly dark reds and blacks, wove through Helena's mind. Helena began a low chant, heard only as a vibration; it called out to Becky to release the darkness within her.
Becky moaned and sighed. Suddenly, she sat up, her spine stiffening. She clutched at the air and screamed. Helena stopped the murmuring and rested her hands on Becky's shoulders. As quickly as the episode began, it ended. Becky collapsed onto the bed, her eyes closed.
Helena touched the crystal on her forehead and directed her gaze through the prism of light. A flash of Becky's past grew larger in her mind's eye. She saw through Becky's eyes. A ghastly face loomed out of the darkness. Empty black eyes sunken in a ruined gray face. The woman held Becky's shoulders with cruel, gnarled hands. She spoke in rapid bursts that Helena could not understand, but one word she heard for certain—curse.
Helena pulled the pendant away from her head. She closed her eyes against the face, corpse-like, looming in Becky's memory.
The Lourdes of Warning.
***
The cold couldn't reach her. As the heat in her body increased, Abby started to sweat.
Helena called the ritual "Harnessing the energy of the dark moon."
Ezra had chosen the space, an open field tucked miles outside of the city. The black sky held a billion tiny stars and in the far distance the lights of the city cast an opaque glow on the horizon.
After they'd placed protective barriers to block wanderers, Julian had erected the pyre. At first, Abby balked. They could not place her mother's body on a bonfire, for God's sakes, but the older witches prevailed. If not for Helena insisting that the magic was not only safe, but necessary considering Becky's condition, Abby would have refused. Helena had told Abby that a spirit memory tormented Becky and that she would fall into deeper decline until they rid of her of the toxic energy.
As the inferno grew brighter, Abby twirled and chanted. Her arms reached out to either side and soon she lost the feel of her body. The wind whipped and howled around her, although she knew the night, beyond their field of energy, was still.
In the center of the snowy field, her mother lay on a bed of coals. The fire burned red and ominous. The heat snaked through the ground and rose into the witches' feet through their heavy boots and clothes.
Abby's mother did not make a sound. The elixir of tranquility would keep her unconscious for hours, so Julian promised. Abby, Julian, Sebastian, Oliver, Helena and Ezra acted out the magic. Carefully chosen by Faustine, who consulted his crystals and reassured them that their energies matched the task.
Abby's mother had not blinked an eye. Sebastian called it "being in the flow." When your plan, your path, unwound before you like a ball of silk rolling down the stairs, perfectly, without a snag.
Abby had poured the vial of liquid into her mother's wine after her massage. So easy, weirdly easy. Abby watched her mother lift the wine and shoot the amber drink in a single go. Becky's bloodshot eyes lingered on Abby's for only an instant longer, and then she slumped over the table and began to snore.
They had carried her to Oliver's van.
Ezra and Julian had already begun preparations in the field. They had filled a pit with coals coated in an enchanted dust that purged the energy body. As the fi
re burned, the smoke would wind through Becky's body, into her lungs, through her skin and bones and blood. It would seek to release the darkness harbored there.
When they began the ritual, Abby's fear and doubt slowed them. She had moved reluctantly, filled with anxiety at the thought of her mother waking up. Finally, Julian had clapped his hands hard in her face.
"Snap out of it," he barked. "Of every witch here, your energy is the most connected to your mother. If you don't show up, then neither will she." He had gestured to Becky's prone form. He did not look angry, but vexed.
Abby's doubt arose from the fear that the darkness lived in her mother as fully as the woman herself. Not an insidious outsider, but an aspect of Becky's spiritual makeup that could not be purged with magic and ceremony.
As the chants grew louder, her body lighter and the fire burned hotter still, Abby's doubts slipped away. She closed her eyes and spun. She sang and laughed and cried. The longer she twirled through the field, the sky a spinning mass of sparkling black, the more she left the physical world and the story of her life behind. The lifetime of Abby—her thoughts, feelings and experiences—ceased to matter. They were merely roles that she played for a little while, but the vastness of divinity lived just beyond the veil. She had only to pull it back, step across that thin line and leave the dense form of Abby behind her.
"Dark moon, we call upon your dormant light," Julian sang into the clearing. "Pull the madness from her body, pull the darkness from her soul, release the woman Becky, give her back her purity, her liberation from pain."
Abby barely heard the words, but sang them anyway.
A shadow slithered from Becky's body. Abby slowed in the firelight and watched it approach her. When the wasted face of the Lourdes reared up, Abby's eyes bulged and she screamed. She fell back into the snow and her head struck the ground.
Sebastian rushed to her and scooped her into his arms.
She saw that he too glistened with sweat. His blue eyes shone from his sooty face.
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