by Pat Esden
CHAPTER 6
You can take me. You can mark my flesh.
You can raise me in any likeness you desire.
That will not change the heart of me.
Yes, blood is everything. But I am of two parents.
And even death will not drive my mother from my soul.
—Jaquith Churchill
Chase and I left the widow’s walk behind, stopping only long enough to catch the tiger-striped cat. Now that the sun had come up, the oil’s magic had worn off and he was totally visible. It wasn’t like we could leave him locked inside the attic to starve to death or shit on more of Kate’s things.
I hugged the cat against my chest as Chase walked me back to my room. In a way, snuggling the little guy was a comfort against the confusion and sadness roiling inside me. I didn’t like the idea of Chase and me taking time off, not at all, especially when I knew neither of us wanted to. But I knew in my heart it was the right choice. Besides, he hadn’t been the only one having problems focusing. I had as well.
At my door, I set the cat down. “I’ll meet you and Selena in the garage at ten.”
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
For an awkward second, I lowered my gaze to the carpet. A kiss would be the normal next move. I looked up. Our eyes locked.
“See you later,” I said, turning away.
I bolted into my room and shut the door with the cat scooting ahead of me. Then I collapsed onto my bed and buried my face in the pillows. My head spun a million miles per hour, wondering if I should have given him one last kiss, and if putting our romance on hold was going to make any difference at all as far as his ability to stay focused instead of getting hyped up because of this maturing or change or whatever it was called, and about my dad and how powerful and enduring his love for my mom was, and how much rescuing her meant to him—and me and Chase.
Tears burned in my eyes, but the sound of purring close to my ear, combined with the cocktail and lack of sleep, managed to lull me into oblivion. I’d never really wanted a cat that much. But if I’d had one, he would have been striped like this one and I’d have named him Tiger. No. That was totally lame. I’d call him Houdini, the escape artist. That was a little lame, but not bad. He had escaped from Kate’s cage.
My phone was buzzing and buzzing.
Half asleep, I fumbled around until I found my bag. “Hello?” I mumbled, pressing the phone against my ear.
“Still in bed, sleepy head,” Dad’s voice said. There was a lot of noise in the background, like he was in an airport or train station. The alarm clock beside my bed read 9:13.
“I didn’t sleep that well. We found a girl who might know something about flute-magic.”
“Kate told me.” His voice deepened. “I’m worried, Annie. Why is Kate sending you to Bar Harbor instead of going herself? There’s something wrong about that.”
“It was my idea.”
“Put it off—wait until we get back. The more we look into this flute thing, the more dangerous—” He covered the phone and talked to someone, telling them he’d only be a second. His voice returned to me. “Do you remember the story about Samuel and the fur coat?”
“Yeah.” It was a crazy tale about an explorer who was an ancestor of mine. In a flash, my mind connected Samuel’s story to the thought I’d had yesterday at the museum when I looked at the medicine bag. Medicine bags or pouches traditionally contained natural things like herbs and stones. But in that story, the Indian who removed a curse from Samuel kept a living nature spirit inside his bag. Spirits in medicine bags. Genies in bottles. Malphic’s full-blooded genie son, Culus, imprisoned inside a poison ring by us. “You’re thinking the medicine bag in the story about Samuel might have contained a genie, not a nature spirit? But how does that connect to the flute?”
“Perhaps not at all. But we need to explore her magic and understand how it connects to other rituals before we jump into anything. Your grandfather, David, and I are headed up into the mountains tomorrow to get the flute. We’ll know more about everything after that. You just hold off. Don’t do anything.”
“We can’t wait. She could leave the area.” I kept my voice firm.
Someone was talking behind him again. Uncle David and Grandfather, most likely. He waited while their voices moved off, then whispered, “All right, but be careful. Keep your eyes open. Don’t trust this girl—or Kate. Trust yourself. Your instincts.” His voice lifted. “Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you too, Dad,” I said, but he was already hanging up, the distance between us far too great for comfort.
After I showered and pulled on my favorite jeans and a summery top, I texted Selena to tell her I was headed for the garage. Like it or not, I had to shove back the ache in my heart and the fear, and focus on what needed doing. Get going and get her done. That was it. No distractions like Chase said. Or at least I had to try.
I rubbed my neck, thinking about yesterday and the way Lotli had eyed Chase, like she was daydreaming about jumping his bones. Cooling his and my relationship was one thing, but I wasn’t going to be stupid. As much as I hated to admit it, Lotli was beautiful and, if her music was anything to go by, super talented. Though Chase had never given me a reason to think he was anything other than loyal, he was a guy. Boobs and a body like Lotli’s could turn a blind man’s eye. I smiled and undid the first two buttons on my top. I couldn’t leave Chase behind and go in search of Lotli with just Selena, but I could make damn sure her distractions weren’t the only ones visible.
Satisfied, I slung my bag over my shoulder and marched into the hallway with Houdini close behind. When I got to the gallery, I paused and glanced toward the alcove where the statue of the goddess Hecate stood, as well as the invisible weak point in the veil between the mortal and djinn realms. Looking at that spot had become a ritual, a way of reminding myself of what I’d survived as a child and again a few weeks ago, that I was strong enough to face anything. It also gave me a chance to smile at Hecate. Perhaps I wasn’t a formal worshiper of hers, but that hadn’t stopped her from watching over me and it wouldn’t prevent me from respecting her—or from once in a while adding an offering of salt to the warding bowls that sat at her feet. Salt was one of the best ways to keep supernatural things from entering rooms or wherever.
I reached down and stroked Houdini. He rubbed his face across my hand, then dashed across the gallery and out through the doorway on the farther end. I hurried after him. But when I reached the doorway something swept my mind, a touch as light as a curl of mist. It urged me to turn around.
Mystified, I looked back at the alcove and Hecate. Her steadfast gaze trapped mine—and an arctic chill raised the hair on the back of my neck. Something terrible was going to happen. I didn’t know what or how or when, but I was suddenly certain of this, and the strength of that knowledge drove the breath right from my lungs.
I grabbed hold of the doorframe to steady myself, my mind staggering. Soon the wards that guarded the weak point would have to be destroyed, so Chase and Dad, and maybe David as well, could use the flute-magic to pass through that very spot. They would vanish into the djinn realm, just like my mother had done. Was that what Hecate was warning me about? Was something awful going to happen to them?
I looked back at her. But the chill had left my skin. And she had nothing more to share.
* * *
Chase insisted we take Grandfather’s Land Rover to Bar Harbor, since we didn’t know what kind of back roads the scrying might lead us down. Once again, I drove, Chase took up the shotgun position, and Selena got the backseat.
“What’s in the bag?” I nodded at the shoebox-size gift bag on the floor between Chase’s feet. It was brown and basic. Perhaps something he wanted to return to a store in Bar Harbor or a gift Kate had sent along to bribe Lotli into coming back to Moonhill with us.
“It’s yarn, for my mother,” he said bluntly. “I want to stop and see her before we do anything else.”
As if I’d gulped one of Dad�
��s brandy-laced coffees, my pulse jumped and excitement zinged into my veins. On its heels a wave of worry about his need to stay calm and the maturing thing washed over me. “That’s great, but—”
His voice dipped lower, totally unwavering. “I need to get it off my mind.”
“As long as you’re sure,” I said. He knew better than anyone what was going on inside him. This would definitely help with the nightmare problem. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about his mom: how medicated she might be and how she’d react to seeing him, and how we were ever going to get into the facility.
Selena leaned forward. “I bet she’ll like seeing you.”
He rested his head back and closed his eyes. “I hope so.”
She nudged his shoulder. “The yarn’s from our sheep’s wool, right?”
“No. It’s dyed, not black,” he mumbled.
A drop of sweat wound its way down his temple. My stomach tensed. He might have been determined to do this, but he was no less terrified than yesterday when we’d gone to his mother’s house.
Selena glanced in the rearview mirror to get my attention. She widened her eyes and raised her brows as if to ask why I wasn’t helping to keep the conversation going.
I shrugged.
Her forehead wrinkled in thought. Then she tilted her head toward Chase, and then me. She stuck out her bottom lip in a sad pout. I took that to mean that she’d decided we’d had a fight, which made sense. Chase was being pretty closed off.
I nodded. It was probably best to have her believe that for now.
Selena let out a long breath. “So, how are you planning on getting in to see her? If you tell them who Chase is, eventually a nurse or someone will mention the visit to his stepfather. That could cause a problem. You said he’s an ass.”
My brain engaged, and I smiled. “We’ll tell them I’m the relative. If Chase’s stepfather hears a woman stopped by, he’ll most likely assume the nurse got confused about who visited which patient, rather than instantly thinking of Chase. I can use a fake name too.”
Chase opened his eyes and sat back up. “That’s a great idea,” he said.
When we got to Beach Rose House, I parked in the facility’s visitor area. As Chase and I got out, Selena swooped in and took over the shotgun seat, so she’d have room enough to scry for Lotli while we attempted to see his mom.
Beach Rose House was small, two stories, and modern. Gardens teeming with pink rosebushes flanked the walkway. More gardens and hedges screened the tall fences that enclosed the side yards. When we reached the front door, I tucked Chase’s gift bag under my arm and then risked breaking the boundary between us by rubbing my hand across his back. I couldn’t not touch him. He’d plastered on a stern face, but his Adam’s apple bobbed like he was on the verge of throwing up.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“It’s going to be fine. I’ll do the talking.”
Taking a steadying breath, I pushed the intercom buzzer beside the door and got ready to lie. A buzz came from the door and a click, indicating someone had unlocked it for us without even asking our names. A total shock.
Inside, the entry area was cool and dim with soft classical music playing in the background. We went straight to the reception counter. A woman in a turquoise nurse’s top and yoga pants looked up from her computer. “May I help you?”
I set the gift bag on the counter. “We’re here to see Josette Abrams.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you. Are you family?”
“I’m her niece, Katie Woodford—from California.” I hooked my arm with Chase’s and snuggled in close to him. “This is my new husband. We’re here on our honeymoon. I haven’t been able to come see my aunt in so long.”
Chase’s arm muscles tensed, but he nodded his agreement and gave her a flicker of a smile.
The woman’s gaze flashed from us toward a set of French doors, just to the left of the reception area. On the other side of the doors, a group of women sat on a porch, some in bathrobes, another in a wheelchair. Clearly patients. Her eyes came back to me. “Let me check the list. You have been here before, right?”
“Yes,” I said. As she started searching on her computer, I added, “It’s been a while. It would be under my maiden name, Katie Brown. Right, babe?” I gazed lovingly at Chase.
His lips had paled and his eyes were fixed on a dark-haired woman sitting on the porch away from the other patients, on a bench, knitting. He stepped around me and walked stiffly toward the French doors, like he was walking in his sleep.
Though the woman on the porch was thin and middle-aged, the resemblance between her and Chase was striking, the strong jawline and straight nose. I swallowed dryly. Hopefully the nurse wouldn’t notice that.
The nurse stood up, edging toward the French doors. Her voice filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry. You’re not on the list. If you’d like to call Mr. Abrams and have him speak to my supervisor we could arrange a time—”
Suddenly reanimated, Chase did an about-face. “No, that’s fine. We should go.”
In two fast steps, he had me by the arm, turning me toward the front doors.
Stunned by his change of heart, I pulled against him. “Are you sure? You know, get it done. No distractions?” I whispered.
“We should leave her in peace,” he said, his voice straining toward panic.
At the front doors, he released me and hurtled outside.
“Excuse me,” the nurse called after us.
I glanced back. “Yeah?”
She waved at the gift bag I’d mistakenly left on the counter. “If you want, I could give her this.”
In an instant, I made up my mind and rushed back to the reception counter. “I know I’m not allowed to visit with her,” I said, “but could I at least give that to her myself? I’ll act like I don’t know her, like I’m a new volunteer here or a nurse, instead of family. I might never get another chance to see her. Please. Promise, I won’t say who I am.”
The nurse clasped her hands together, twisting them one way and then the other, like she was making up her mind. Her shoulders squared, then they relaxed and she exhaled. “All right. But just for a moment.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” I said, lunging for the French doors before she changed her mind or her supervisor appeared.
I went out and jogged up to Chase’s mom. Though I suspected she was only in her forties, her face was heavily lined. Dark hollows crescented her eyes. But her hair was rich and long, and her slender fingers worked the knitting needles with grace and speed.
She set her knitting on her lap and looked up at me, puzzled. “Can I help you?”
“My name’s Annie,” I said, sliding down on the bench next to her. “I’ve brought you a gift from a friend of ours.”
She took the bag and glanced inside, her chin trembling and tears glinting in her eyes, as she pulled out the skeins of nubby yarn. Blue and green in the exact same shades she’d always reserved for one purpose, for Chase’s Christmas mittens.
CHAPTER 7
A prism for some, a mountain lake for others,
darkened silver or a crystal’s face,
it matters not which surface speaks to the seer.
All that’s of importance is that it opens the eye.
—Persistence Freemont, “The Art of Divination.”
In Compendium of Psychic Sciences, Volume 3.
Boston, Massachusetts: Coryphacus Press, 1982
“Did you talk to her?” Chase asked.
“I gave her the yarn,” I said, getting into the driver’s seat. I pulled the seatbelt across my chest, pausing to untwist and adjust it, buying myself time to think. I’d given his mother the yarn and told her Chase had escaped and was fine. I’d asked how she was. The conversation had been ordinary until she’d set the yarn on her lap and took my hands in hers.
“What do you fear?” she’d asked, her voice hushed.
&
nbsp; I licked my lips and turned toward Chase. “She was happy to know you’re safe, but she didn’t say much else.” The voice of guilt reverberated inside me. Liar. Liar. I shoved it back and gave him a quick grimace. “I’m sorry.”
I’d been frustrated when Chase had walked out without talking to her, but now I realized he’d made the wiser choice. My brief visit with her hadn’t cleared my mind. It had disturbed me, and that was the last thing he needed. Once we found Lotli and got my mom back, I’d tell him about the conversation. Until then, I had to forget the visit and stash the rest of her unsettling words away until they wouldn’t do more harm than good.
Selena sighed. “That stinks.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror and caught Chase’s eye. “But we saw her and she’s okay. That’s what’s important, right?”
“I guess. It was strange, but good.” His gaze left mine and he leaned back against the seat, his hands resting in his lap as if the visit had indeed eased his mind. “Can we get going now?”
I turned toward Selena. “So which way?”
“South,” she said. “We should go a few miles, then I’ll scry again.”
The road was narrow and twisty, and crowded with traffic and bicycles. But the drive was gorgeous, woods and fields with glimpses of ponds and inlets.
After a few miles, I pulled into an overlook with a view of a calm, sun-spangled bay. Selena opened her compact and poured cola on its mirror. I kept the car running with the windows up and the air-conditioning on high to keep us cool and block out the noise outside the car. Still, I was surprised Selena could get into the zone with people walking by and us watching her.
The feather moved, and she came out of her trance. “Keep going straight,” she said.
