Saige traced her fingers along the journal. “She recorded everything. Every detail of every day.”
Theodosia’s journal was still in good condition on the outside, but inside the pages had aged, the cursive writing faded to a dull brown. Saige had to bring the candle close to read it. Each entry was a personal and intimate account of Theodosia’s thoughts and feelings. There were hopes, dreams, ambitions. Guilt tugged inside Saige. The woman was long dead, but somehow reading her journals still felt intrusive.
Mildred smoothed her mop of curls back. “She was a socialite but also a very private woman.”
“There doesn’t seem to be any detail about Frederick Wolvercraft. She writes a few times that he’s handsome and a suitable match, but that’s it.”
Saige found that strange.
If you love someone, you’d be bursting with such happiness that surely you’d record it in your journal.
Her eyes inadvertently turned to Jasper. He was looking at her. The intensity in his stare made her heart fumble.
A slow grin spread over his face. “Maybe Theodosia married for the title. Maybe there was no love involved.”
Mildred rubbed a hand across her eyes. “It’s possible.”
Saige turned another page in the journal. “What’s this?”
She lifted a black-and-white photograph that was faded and grainy. Most of the background had been washed out, but the three subjects in the forefront were clear. There was a man on the right who Saige instantly recognised as Frederick Wolvercraft, an older woman in the centre in a stunning dress with lavish furs, and a young girl on the left whose smile was bright, her hair dark, long, and sweeping over her shoulder in thick waves. She couldn’t have been any older than seventeen. Saige paused. It had to be a trick of the camera, or simply the aging of the photo, but the girl’s eyes were black shadows that seemed to hold in secrets. An intense wave of darkness slid over Saige like a shadow, but it vanished in an instant.
She passed the photo to Mildred. “Who is this girl?”
The clairvoyant put on a pair of winged cat’s-eye glasses and examined the picture. Her lips pinched. “That’s Theodosia’s daughter, Anna Sinclair.”
“Theodosia had been married before?”
Mildred nodded. “She was a widow. She had her husband’s wealth and an inheritance that made her a target for many a man.”
Jasper snorted. “Doesn’t sound like you have a very high opinion of men.”
Mildred turned on him so fast, Saige wondered how she didn’t have a neck ache. “I don’t.”
His lips tipped into a faint smile, his voice a whisper. “That would explain all the cats.”
Saige kicked him under the table. He glared back at her. His hair, which had started to dry, stuck out wildly around his head. Saige hated that he had the messy rock star look down to perfection. Her hair, on the other hand, had turned into a frizzy mess suitable for a bird to nest in.
A quiet shudder passed over Saige that she believed had nothing to do with her wet clothes. She turned back to the other woman. “What happened to Anna?”
Mildred straightened in her chair. One of her cats jumped into her lap and settled into a comfortable ball. She petted it, the dining room filled with appreciative purrs. Mildred looked at Saige with sad, almost kind eyes. “No one knows for certain. After her mother’s disappearance, it’s said that Anna returned to America, possibly to live with her grandparents.”
“Frederick Wolvercraft never helped her?”
“No. I daresay Frederick was the one who instigated her return to America.”
Saige slumped back in her chair, disappointed that she had such an arsehole for an ancestor. Her family’s legacy, their fortune, was never really theirs. It had been stolen from a widowed woman and the rightful heir. Shame twisted through Saige’s veins. “Do you think Frederick… did something to Theodosia?”
Mildred chuckled low under her breath. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh. “If you mean murder, then yes, I believe Frederick was most certainly capable of it. Harriette thought so too. That’s why we attempted a summoning yesterday afternoon.”
Saige nearly fell out of her chair.
Jasper was caught mid-sip and spluttered tea over the table. “I’m sorry, did you say summoning?”
“Yes.” Mildred stroked her cat absently. “It wasn’t successful. We couldn’t make a connection with Theodosia. But”—her eyes lingered on Saige—“perhaps Theodosia might be willing to make an appearance if a direct descendent of Frederick’s were to, say… be included in the summoning.”
Saige opened her mouth, but Jasper interjected before she could get a word out. “Absolutely not. Saige isn’t to be involved in any whacky, conjuring, creepy, incantation shit.”
Saige returned his gaze with a flat stare. “You speak for me now, do you?”
He flinched.
Mildred’s lips tightened. “Very intelligent word choices, Mr Young. I assure you, it’s perfectly safe.”
His face turned an angry shade of red. “Oh really? It’s so safe, in fact, that Harriette can no longer be found.”
Mildred ignored him. She turned her beady eyes on Saige, unblinking behind her glasses. “It’s up to you, my dear.”
Jasper stared at Saige, his eyes pleading silently not to do it.
Saige was divided. She wanted answers, but her stomach tangled in fear every time she thought about a summoning. After all, nothing good ever came out of them in the films she’d seen. Still, she couldn’t continue to live like this. Afraid. Alone. Hopeless. Surrounded by a presence she couldn’t explain but knew was evil.
She shut her eyes, gathering her thoughts.
If we do this, I might get the answers I need.
I might learn how to break the curse.
I might have a chance for… happiness, whatever that might look like.
She opened her eyes. Her breath was loud and rasped in her ears. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
* * *
Mildred lit more candles and took a pen and notebook out from a set of drawers. She placed them on the table in front of her.
Saige wondered what the pen and paper could be for.
Mildred smiled kindly. “In case Theodosia wants to communicate.”
Jasper shot his eyes skyward. “All ghosts are into writing. Did you know that, Saige?”
Mildred sat down with a heavy grunt. “If you do not wish to participate, young man, you can wait in the parlour.”
“The parlour! I’ll have the head steward bring me tea in there, shall I?”
“There’s no need for sarcasm. If you do not wish to be here, leave.”
Jasper’s eyes found Saige’s, deadly serious. “I’m staying.”
The heavy lines in Mildred’s face contorted into a grimace. “Fine. But do exactly as I say. Better still, keep your eyes shut for the entire time, please?”
He gave her a sarcastic salute. She glared in return.
Saige watched the pair with nervous interest.
Looks like Jasper’s handsome qualities are no longer working in his favour.
She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Mildred’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Join hands, and whatever you do, don’t let go. By linking hands we cast a protective circle. If you break the link, you set the spirit free. Theodosia’s end was a tragic one. I can’t guarantee she won’t be… malevolent.”
Jasper shot her a contemptuous stare. “How comforting.”
Mildred pointed at him. “Not a word. I mean it.”
The three of them reached across the table and clasped hands. Saige’s fingers trembled in Jasper’s. Despite his convictions against a summoning, his skin felt smooth and warm. Her own were clammy and cold, fear and excitement tingling their way to the tips. Mildred’s hand was firm by comparison.
She’s done this many times. She knows what she’s doing.
The thought still didn’t give Saige much comfort.
Mildred spoke in a low voice that sounded like a chant. “Theodosia Sinclair, we invoke you to come forward to dwell among us. We seek answers about your tragic demise. We wish to know your story. We do not wish you harm. In exchange, we ask that you do not harm us in return.”
Saige’s breath was stolen from her lungs. The deathly silence in the room was unnerving. The patter of rain outside grew louder. She wondered if it had started to hail.
A candle flickered. Then another. Saige exchanged an uneasy glance with Jasper. She knew from the way he bristled that he wanted to tug his hands free and leave the room, carrying her away with him. She supposed it said something that he remained.
The temperature plunged. Several of the candles blew right out.
Mildred’s jaw tightened. “Theodosia Sinclair, if you are present, make yourself known.”
All through the building, the windowpanes rattled. Saige didn’t think it had anything to do with the weather outside.
We’ve made a connection.
She could feel it. A cold prickle on the back of her neck alerted her that there was something else present at the table.
Doors slammed. One of Mildred’s cats darted out of the room.
Saige’s hands were slippery with sweat. She wondered how Mildred and Jasper had managed not to let go of her fingers.
“Stay calm,” Mildred cautioned, then, in a deeper, more histrionic voice, said, “Theodosia Sinclair, show yourself.”
A strange, whispered murmur seeped from the walls. A rushing noise that sounded like a waterfall rose into a deafening crescendo. It blocked out every other sound, even the rain.
And then… nothing.
The room went deadly quiet again.
Saige’s heart beat impossibly fast. An unpleasant smell had saturated the air, overcoming the incense, potpourri, and marijuana. It clogged her nose and made her eyes water. It smelt of death. It was what she imagined an open grave would smell like.
Mildred had her head down, her shoulders slumped.
Saige feared that something may have happened to her. “Mildred? Mildred, are you okay?”
She cast a frightened glance at Jasper. He stared back with perplexed eyes.
Saige squeezed the medium’s hand. “Mildred? Please, can you say somethi—”
Mildred’s head sprang up. A horrible gurgling rattle broke from her throat, like she was about to cough up blood. Her voice was not her own but a string of feral, scratchy noises. She turned her head in an unnatural tilt, opaque eyes staring straight into Saige’s.
“Saige Wolvercraft.” Mildred’s tone was a guttural cry. “You must pay for the sins of the father.”
A claw of ice fastened around Saige.
Jasper’s fingers wound so tightly around hers, she was sure it would cut off her circulation. “Jesus! She’s possessed!”
Saige felt Jasper’s hand start to slip away. She held on tightly. “You break the circle, you let the ghost out. We have her contained.”
“You’re an expert now, are you?”
Saige didn’t understand how she knew, but she sensed it was right. She stared at Mildred, or the thing that had taken hold of her, ignoring the cold, burning uneasiness inside her. “Theodosia, did Frederick Wolvercraft murder you? Is that why you cursed my family?”
Mildred let out a growl, animalistic and unnatural.
Saige took that as a yes. “What do I have to do to break the curse? What is it that you want?”
Mildred slammed her head back against the chair in a high, cackling laugh. “Pay the sins of the father.”
Saige wasn’t only scared but frustrated now. “What does that mean?”
Mildred’s face pinched into wrinkles. The small woman appeared demonic.
Saige tried another approach. “Where is Harriette? Did you hurt her? Did she find out something you didn’t want her to know?”
She seriously worried Harriette had discovered a secret about the family curse. A secret Theodosia had wanted to remain concealed.
What if Theodosia doesn’t want the curse broken? What if this is what she’s chosen for her afterlife. To watch the Wolvercraft family suffer for all eternity.
Mildred thrashed about in her chair. Her nails dug into Saige’s flesh. “Dr Reynolds got too close. Dr Reynolds… is in the ground.”
Jasper sat bolt upright. “Are you saying she’s dead?”
Saige’s mouth tasted sticky. She’d suspected it, but hearing it confirmed sent a spasm of remorse through her gut.
Spittle flew from Mildred’s mouth as her lips pulled back in a nasty smile. “No one escapes the curse. She. Knows. She. Knows. She. Knows. She. Knows. She. Knows. She. Knows.”
“Who knows?” Saige intervened. “Who is she?”
Mildred gasped so loudly that Saige saw all the way to the back of her throat, spotting her black molars. The medium’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, and her breathing turned ragged. As though a puppeteer had let go of a marionette, Mildred fell in a boneless heap on the table.
All the colour in Jasper’s face had vanished. “Is she dead? Oh geez. What are we going to do with all her cats?”
Saige stared at him, unable to comprehend his asinine comment.
He’s in shock. People behave strangely when they’re in shock.
She let go of Mildred’s hand and reached for the phone in her pocket. “We need to call an ambulance.”
She’d dialled two numbers when Mildred sprang up in her chair like a corpse straight out of the ground. The sudden movement elicited screams from Saige and Jasper.
Mildred blinked, startled by the noise. “My goodness. What happened? Did we make a connection?”
Jasper stared at her with his mouth open. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Mildred rubbed a hand across her eyes. “You can let go now. The summoning is over.”
For a moment, Saige didn’t understand, and then she realised her hand was still clasped tight in Jasper’s. She pulled away, quick to avert her eyes from his.
Mildred stood up, scrambling to grip the back of her chair. “I apologise. I don’t feel so well. Perhaps I should lie down.”
Jasper hurried out of his seat and caught the woman before she fell. He carried her through the beaded curtain to the lounge, Saige jostling behind, then set Mildred gently on the couch. She was asleep. Or unconscious. Saige hoped it wasn’t the latter.
Jasper tapped his fingers on the table. “I think we should call that ambulance after all.”
Her hands shaking, Saige dialled the emergency number.