“Well, my dear,” He said frankly, “That’s Lorelei!”
He came over and poured the cash onto the table, swept the soggy tea leaves into the trash bin with a quick motion of his hand and a brief frown at the stain they left behind, and then sat and started smoothing and stacking the bills. He was halfway through the pile when he started chuckling.
“She’s overpaid me again! Oh, that woman,” But his grey eyes were smiling when he looked up, “But what a woman!” He shared a grinning-gaze with Carol. She was also smiling. What a character Lorelei was! She had lived up to the audacious persona Carol had always imagined she had.
“Freddie, now you’ve told me quite a few interesting things about yourself, but you never said you knew Lorelei! She has been around forever! How on Earth did you two meet?”
Freddie went and put the money in the register, smirking enigmatically. Carol could hear the ring as he closed the drawer.
“Oh, we met back when I was in Art-School, forever ago. She knows she can come here for… reliable ingredients,” he called from the other room.
“Well,” Carol responded, “That’s just amazing. I can’t believe that I got to have my tea leaves read by Lorelei! Wait until I tell my sister!” She laughed to herself, imagining the surprise and envy on her sister’s face.
Then Carol thought about what Freddie had said earlier. “Transform” energy? Into what? Use it for some purpose which she couldn’t even imagine? What did he mean, he was “keeping evil at bay”? Carol felt a cool, breathy sensation on the back of her neck, where the tartan shawl touched her skin. The hairs stood up, but she could not sense Ian. She wished she could hear his whiskey-brogue; she needed his guidance here. In a moment, Freddie returned.
“So, Carol, have you thought about what I was saying before?” He sat down and looked at her pointedly. It was like looking into the bright eyes of a crow, one who knows he’s clever, and wants to play. For a moment she was almost frightened, almost frozen by that gaze, but then she decided it was more of an... inviting... playfulness and not menacing at all.
Silly woman. Carol scoffed at herself, then returned her attention to the conversation at hand.
“But isn’t it wrong, Freddie? Aren’t you using up people’s souls when you do that? What happens to them?”
“The enemies I fight are legion, my dear,” he replied. “And subtle; full of corruption, greed, hatred…. They have all the power they can possess, because they are not held back by rules on how to acquire it. If I do not use every resource at my disposal, how will I win? How can I save, or even help, anyone that way? Tell me, Carol… you know about the spirits. Do you know any of them who would not want to fight against evil in this world?”
Carol had to admit that she did not. “Well, no, of course not. But what if they are just waiting to pass on?” she asked.
“How else are they going to earn their passage forward than by helping to stop evil from spreading? What better way to put things to rest than by helping to save someone, or even the world, by adding their leftover power to the forces of good and justice?” Freddie reached out and patted her hand. “My dear, you give it a good think, and take the pearls home. I like you, I find you quite an interesting person, and I hope we can remain friends. We are friends as of now, am I correct?” He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Of course, Freddie, of course we’re friends.” And as she said it, smiling reassuringly, Carol realized it was true. They were friends, and Carol felt like they had actually been friends for a long time… maybe lifetimes. She thought about Lorelei’s prophecy. Perhaps she was wrong to fear this man or what he could do. Perhaps the spirits were wrong to fear him as well. She could not seem to hear Ian, and she wished that she could have a long talk with him about this. She was sure she was going to get her wish later, maybe once she got home. It seemed that the tartan, even though it was Black Watch, did not keep Ian strong enough to talk with her for very long. She resigned herself to needing to pack Ian’s teddy bear if she wanted to bring him along when she traveled.
“Excellent! Now, it’s getting late in the day, and I promised that I’d show you my city. First, Lake Shore Drive and then, Zorba’s, where we will drink ouzo and dance around the tables until late in the night! Off we go!”
Carol was glad that she had had that cup of Yao’s tea this morning; she felt like she was going to need it.
Susannah pulled her car into the driveway of her mother’s home, tires crunching on the gravel. Carol got out unsteadily, shielding her eyes from the sun with large, dark sunglasses, and took her bag from the back seat.
“Really, Mom… ouzo? And dancing? At your age? What would Dad say?”
“Really, Susie… like you’ve never done anything like this? And what did your father say to you?” Carol raised her eyebrows.
Admitting defeat, Susannah left, and Carol swayed her way into the house. She went up the old, hardwood staircase with some difficulty, and pushed open the door into her room. It was soft in here, and comfortable: familiar. She laid the Black Watch shawl over the Scottish teddy bear. Ian had not made his presence known since Freddie’s shop. She was worried but hoped that he just needed the bear and some sort of rest. She wondered how ghosts rested. She laid down on the bed for just a moment. Her head was pounding, and she was not sure if she was sober yet or not. She had not had a hangover like this in years. The physical exhaustion added to the whole experience, and Carol wondered what had possibly made her dance around those tables all night? She hadn’t even known those people! She smirked.
It was fun though, she had to admit to herself… and drifted away into memory.
She was awakened by loud, crashing sounds. Or was it shouting? Carol opened her eyes. She had fallen asleep in her clothes and could feel them bunched up under her. There was nothing different about the room… but she could hear Ian, his voice coming over a background of rumbles and distant calls.
“And ye went into ’is lair by your bonny self?!” He was shouting to all of her senses. “An’ I could, I’d take ye o’er mah knee and skelp yer breeks!” He was as furious as Carol had ever felt. He moved through the room like a storm cloud, making the curtains wave, the perfume bottles and cup full of pens on the desk rattle. Carol thought the room darkened where he passed. In the background of her senses, she could hear noises like some sort of remote battle. “Did ye no’ see the people there? Did ye no’ feel for ‘em? Wha’ was gaun through yer wee mind, Carlie?” The battle sounds got closer. She could hear screams and cannon-fire. “I canna guard ye like this! Grab thyself, Milady, we must flee!” And then he was gone from the room with what felt like an implosion. Everything settled.
“Well, that was exciting.” Carol announced to the air. “Are you always going to have tantrums like this when I decide to take a chance?” Carol knew from long association with the ghost that, when he was extremely agitated, he started to speak to her as if she was someone who had gone through whatever he had. He often referred to her grabbing her “little dog” or herself, and almost always ended by suggesting they “Hie ourselves from here”.
Ian’s voice came, more contrite, smoke over ice, and with less furious battle sounds. “Ah, lass… but ’e be sleekit and crafty. Don’t ye ken that ’e’s usin’ ye? Takin’ ye fer all ye’re worth, Carlie?”
“Oh, Ian. I can protect myself at least a little bit… when you’re not around, of course. I have the tea, which is a great help, and remember when Julia taught me how to shield myself?” Carol thought back to a long afternoon in Julia’s apartment, drinking odd-tasting teas and trying to reach her “spiritual center.”
At that moment, the telephone rang. Carol looked at the time. Five o-clock. It was not late yet. She picked up the receiver.
“Hello?” she said.
“Carol! I was hoping you were home. How did it go?” It was Julia. Carol noticed the coincidence and wondered at the serendipity of the Universe.
“Last time we spoke, Jules, you said something about an
onslaught of spirits?” Carol smirked. “Maybe you weren’t thinking about these kinds of spirits.”
“What are you talking about?”
Carol told Julia all about her trip to Chicago: the encounter with Lorelei at Freddie’s, what he had discussed with her afterward, the dinner at Zorba’s, and the dancing and ouzo consumption that followed.
“I’m exhausted, Jules. I might just have some more of Yao’s tea!” Carol finished.
“Don’t you dare!” Julia blurted. “I’m not kidding when I say that stuff is potent. You’ll be up all night, and not just from the caffeine. The legends all say that the tulsi in your mix there is the most holy herb because of the immense spiritual power it conveys. It sounds like maybe it worked!”
“Yes, and thank goodness! I have not had a weekend like that since Stanley was alive.” Carol quieted for a moment, remembering her long-departed love, and the riotous parties they used to attend. Who knew that Chess-Masters could be so rowdy? “No, really, thank you, Julia. I don’t know what I would have done without that tea. The number of spirits I encountered at Freddie’s was staggering! But, Jules… none of them acted like they feared him. It was weird, to say the least.”
“Well, Carol, maybe they don’t, I don’t know. I can’t sense spirits like you can, I just know medical stuff and have done some research, but if I was a ghost stuck here on Earth, I’d sure want a way to move on. Maybe this man is not so scary after all? Do you think he wants to teach you what he does? What does Ian think of all of this?”
“Ian is beside himself. Oh, Jules, he is really mad. It might make things… difficult… for a little while.”
“So, explain it to him like it was explained to you and like you explained it to me. Maybe he’ll understand. You always say that he’s good, right? He should want to fight for the cause of good. I don’t really understand all of this myself, Carol, but I think you should take this opportunity to learn from Freddie. It sounds like he’s willing to teach you, and like you could learn quite a bit from him, even if you don’t end up using it.” Julia’s chuckle came through the receiver loudly. “Remember Carol: you don’t have to like your teachers, but you should learn from them.”
“So... what, Julia? I should just go back and forth between Grandma Fortuna, you, and Freddie, absorbing all the knowledge that I can?”
“Absolutely.” Came Julia’s reply. “Lorelei said, and I can’t believe you actually met her, just like that! You’re going to have to tell me all about her... but she said that ‘something is coming’, right? Maybe, Carol, maybe you are a part of something big here. Maybe you are more important than you think.”
“Oh, Jules… I’m just a little, old lady who likes odd things. I’m not important.”
“Oh, but Carol… perhaps you could be. Wouldn’t Stanley be proud? What would he say to you right now?”
Carol could almost hear his voice, although he had never appeared to her, and she had never sensed him around. She imagined his strong, soft hand on her shoulder, and she sighed.
“He would tell me to make the gambit.”
Now that Carol has Freddie in her sights, will she help or hinder him? Will she take him the moonstone ring, or will she use it for her own purposes instead? And just how exactly does one “unbind” a stone like that? The very fate of the world may rest in the hands of one, old woman and the Scotish spirit who watches over her! Read more about Carol’s ghostly adventure in Forgotten Magic now!
About the Author
Born in Philadelphia, Leah W. Van Dinther never wanted to fit into the mold of “normal.” She spent her childhood around old buildings, art, society, and horses, and usually had her nose buried in a book. She accumulated knowledge like a hoard of treasure and, at some point in her younger years, realized that her greatest wish (outside of horses) was to have a library like the one in Alexandria. Lo-and-behold, the Internet was invented, and her wish came true!
Leah has been a poet, a writer, a waitress, a cook, a dessert-chef, a Montessori teacher, an artist, a rock-star, and a horse trainer. She still accumulates knowledge like it’s going out of style and in a dizzying array of topics. No really, it would make your head spin.
She married a wonderful artist/musician/author/chef who challenges her, supports her, helps her, and loves her unconditionally to this day. His smile also makes her weak in the knees.
After spending twenty-two years in Western Montana, Leah now lives in California with her family, and her horses, Badger and Zeina. She is very glad to be up in the mountains, but thankful that there is not so much snow.
For more about Leah W. Van Dinther, please visit: www.Ghost-Stalkers.com. Don’t forget to grab your copy of Forgotten Magic for more!
Aamira
Healer
Barbara Letson
After suffering through way too many fruitless medical tests as a child, Aamira promised herself she would never enter a hospital again. Now a teenager, where does she spend her time? Entertaining seriously ill children as a hospital volunteer, her Wayward Magic greatly improving their chances of ever going home again. What she doesn’t expect is the mysterious entity who comes to take them: and you should never argue with someone possessing that much power.
Barbara Letson
Now a hospital volunteer in the children’s ward, teenage Aamira’s magical talent as a budding Healer greatly improves their chances of ever going home again. What she doesn’t expect is the mysterious entity who comes to take them. You should never argue with someone possessing that much power.
Sixteen-year-old Aamira Rayan rocked the toddler on her lap and remembered how hard it had been for her when she was the one who had been ill, so deathly ill, and without a diagnosis that stuck. Then she had pieced together that she had the ability to connect with others, to get a feel for what was physically wrong with them, and to ‘share’ her health, trading it for their illness.
There was no formal training for this, no one to ask what it was she was doing or how it worked; it was definitely a ‘learn-as-you-go’ experience, and she was learning all the time. It was just something she could do, and she was going to do it.
The child in question was in rough shape and the nurses were worried, though they tried to hide that worry when Aamira was around. Making skin-to-skin contact, she willed her psychic self around the boy and began to share from her own life force. As she stilled her mind and reached out to him, she knew they were forming some sort of connection, some link that would let her understand the child’s most immediate physical problems, and often something that would clue her in to the child’s emotions.
It was different each time, but it always included a few of the same elements. Aamira would extend a warm rush, like a sweet wave, toward her small patient, and what starving body would refuse an offer of a breath of fresh air, a warm sip of energy? It was an instinctive acceptance for most, they weren’t even aware of it. They just recognized the love. And when she shifted her focus to draw out part of their illness or injury, part of their pain, they were surprised at the sudden cessation of ‘bad’, as if they could breathe again. Unfortunately for Aamira, removing their trouble meant pain for her.
The toddler, his aura close to black, reached for her hungrily. Aamira had always been able to see auras, those colorful bits of human energy that surrounded living bodies and changed according to the personality and level of health. She hadn’t known seeing such things was not the norm when she was a child. She could especially see colors relating to sickness and knew that dark, muddy colors were not a good sign; the closer to black, the closer to death.
The candy striper crooned to her charge, cuddling and rocking, and slowly they connected on a deeper level. Physically, he was sleepy. Emotionally, he was confused. They were keeping his pain at bay with cutting-edge drugs and constant care. The child was fragile, although the nurses had said it wasn’t quite dire. He had undergone surgery for a hole in his heart, a congenital deformity that would eventually kill him without intervention, but
the medical community still considered the heart a mystery in the year 1991 and even with their most concerted intervention, the most current techniques, his outcome was uncertain at best.
The nurses explained that Jeremiah’s infirmity had kept him ill and weak throughout his few years of life, but he had hung in there, and now his doctors felt he would be fine if he made it through these next few days. But maybe the nurses didn’t know how poorly he was doing, or maybe they just didn’t want to upset her with the knowledge that he was still in trouble; in their eyes, there was always hope.
Within her own body, Aamira began to match the boy’s quiet, labored breathing, felt the soft thump of his heart pumping what might soon be its last. She noted the many tubes and wires connected to him, gadgets that monitored his every breath and medicine pumps that supported his progress in these important days following surgery. It was a wonder they would even lift him from his bed and place him in her arms, but the child had very little family. Even before the official studies talked of a connection between emotional health and physical healing, Aamira knew you needed the one to take best advantage of the other, and there was always an element of love in her work with the children. Besides, Aamira was special. The nurses called her their good luck charm; any child she took an interest in stood an excellent chance of going home again.
Aamira held little Jeremiah carefully so as not to jostle the central line or intravenous drips that kept him going at this point. She lovingly wrapped the child in her own aura of bright, healthy colors and began to accept the child’s injuries into herself. It could seem like inhaling flypaper or chewing on tinfoil; some unpleasantness was happening, always accompanied by a certain level of pain. Aamira had come to understand that while she might pull various illnesses and injuries into herself, she did not absorb medications. The patients always kept those to themselves, while the aches and pains, masked by the drugs that kept them comfortable, were felt full force by Aamira.
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