Jasper paced in the downstairs drawing room. It made Saige dizzy to watch him.
She shook her head, trying to remain composed and not appear frazzled. “Jasper, can you please sit down? I can’t think with you prancing around like that.”
His face went blank for a moment, as though he’d forgotten she was in the room. “Yes, sorry.”
He sat beside her. Both of them listened to the wild thrashing of the storm outside. Each blaze of lightning, each clap of thunder sounded like it came from directly inside the house.
Saige’s stomach rolled. She imagined herself on a luxurious cruise ship out at sea, waves pummelling down, determined to split the vessel in half. They might as well have been on a ship in the middle of nowhere for all it mattered. Wolvercraft Manor was just as isolated surrounded in its banks of fog and thick-forested terrain.
Jasper pressed his hands together, maybe to stop them from trembling. “How does someone recover from something like that? Did you see her body? The way it just… bent?”
Saige nodded. She really didn’t want to remember the disturbing movement.
“What if we can’t help her?” Jasper whispered.
“We can.” Saige took out the grimoire from the pocket in her knee-length cardigan. She’d decided to carry it with her everywhere. “This has to have an answer in it. My mother gave it to me for a reason.”
“That’s if your mother is on our side.”
Saige gazed at him for a long time, trying to figure out his meaning.
Jasper rubbed at his eyes. “All I’m saying is that for the most part, nothing has worked in our favour. We go one step forward and five steps backward.”
Saige slid off the couch and sat cross-legged on the carpet. She rested the grimoire on the coffee table and flicked through the pages.
“Saige. Listen, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that—”
“Go to sleep, Jasper. You look exhausted. I’m going to stay up a bit and read this.”
He did look tired. There were bags under his eyes. He rotated his arms in wide circles, probably to release tension.
Fat chance of that happening. This entire house is filled with tension.
He yawned loudly. “I can’t possibly sleep. Not when you’re still awake. Not after everything that’s happened.”
But five minutes later, he was sprawled on the couch, lightly snoring.
Saige was tired, too, but she forced herself to stay awake.
I should have drunk coffee instead of tea.
She continued to scan the grimoire’s contents, marvelling at the incredible detail and intricate drawings on each page. Not all of them were exactly what she’d describe as pleasant images. There were skulls and demonic faces, half-moons and full moons, and symbols she neither understood nor had seen before. She found a section that focused on spells and rituals to remove unwanted ghosts and settled in.
Step 1 - Cleanse the space by burning sage or smudging. Throw salt in the entrances and corners.
Step 2 – Speak to the ghost. Announce your presence. Convince the entity that you mean no harm.
Step 3 – Perform a banishing spell.
That was the general gist of it.
Are you serious? That’s all there is?
Her family really would think she’d gone insane if they caught her hurling salt around the manor. She doubted something that simple would actually work, anyway.
Frustrated, she tossed the grimoire onto the floor, thinking the most suitable place for it would be a fire. An old photograph tumbled out, and her eye landed on a figure she recognised.
Saige picked it up. It was once a black-and-white photo, now aged and yellowing. Theodosia Sinclair and her daughter, Anna, stood proudly before a ring of vertical standing slabs, topped by connecting horizontal stones.
Table des Pions! The fairy ring!
Saige remembered the place as a little girl. Her mother had taken her to visit the attraction, along with all the tourists, to show Saige a part of Ashvall’s history. All Saige had wanted to see were fairies. She’d been disappointed when none had arrived. Not even a glimpse.
“What are you looking at?”
Saige jumped at the voice.
Jasper stretched his arms. His shirt lifted, revealing a hard, flat stomach.
She looked away. “Will you please stop doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Scaring me. You have the worst timing.”
“Well, actually… when you think about it, I have very good timing. I’ve saved you enough times.”
She glared at him.
Jasper raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Point taken.”
He bent down and sat on the carpet beside her. “What is that? Are they who I think they are?”
She passed him the photo. “Yes. Looks like Theodosia and Anna were having a mother-daughter day.”
“And what is that behind them?”
“Table des Pions, otherwise called the fairy ring.”
“A fairy ring? Seriously?”
“Don’t be so cynical. It’s part of Ashvall’s history. People believed it was where fairies, witches, and elves gathered. It’s said that many weddings took place there, and that people’s love imbued the fairy magic. Supposedly, if a loved one is lost, their partner can lay their body in the circle for an entire night. If the fairies deem the couple’s love to be true, the deceased’s soul will be returned.”
He snorted. “That’s the worst fairy tale I have ever heard.”
“It’s meant to be romantic.”
“You sure it’s not a burial mound? A place where people were sacrificed by Ashvall’s earliest inhabitants?”
Saige lifted her nose at him. “You’ve seen too many horror films, you know that?”
“And look how well I’ve survived.” He waved his arms, indicating the house. “The films have trained me well.”
She ignored him.
An idea crept into her mind.
Mildred had an image of Theodosia when she conducted the seance.
If I’m a medium, could I perhaps…?
No. It’s too silly. A far-fetched idea.
Jasper was watching her, his eyes alert with suspicion. “You have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re about to do something that will get us both into trouble.”
She glanced away, sheepish. “I think we should hold a seance. I think we should try and communicate with Theodosia Sinclair.”
Jasper stared at the floor. “I knew I should have stayed asleep.”
* * *
Saige refused to allow Jasper to change her mind. If she listened to his warnings, his hesitation, she’d lose her nerve.
She shot him a stern glare. “We have to at least try.”
Knowing our luck, nothing will happen. Theodosia might not make contact.
She found a spot on the other side of the coffee table and sat down.
Jasper gave her a last pleading look and then, seeming to realise there was no changing her mind, grudgingly took up her hands when she offered them to him across the table. “I thought you needed at least three people to do a seance? Something about creating a safe circle.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“I think I saw it in a movie.”
She scoffed. “Because movies are so accurate.”
“Saige, I’m serious.” He took a sweeping glance around the room, as though he expected something to jump out from the shadows. “Mildred was a professional medium. Look what happened to her. I can’t get an ambulance for you if something goes wrong.”
His dark eyes flashed with worry. Despite her head telling her she was still angry with him, she had the growing urge to comfort Jasper. His fingers trembled, much like her own. Just the touch of his skin on hers sent a fluttering sensation through her stomach.
He’s afraid. It’s not fair that I’m doing this to him.
She pulled her hands away. “I can do this on my own. You don’t have to be involved.”
To her surprise, he reached out and wrapped his fingers through hers again. There was a strange look in his eyes she suspected was mounting anxiety and, just maybe, fear that the seance might actually work. “We try it once. If it doesn’t happen the first time, that’s it. Got it? No more attempts.”
She nodded. “I promise.”
He swallowed hard and shook out his shoulders. “If I ever write a memoir, at least this will make an interesting chapter.”
He shut his eyes.
Saige closed hers too. She breathed in deeply, trying to remember what Mildred had spoken when she’d conducted the seance. “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.”
Jasper snorted. “Because that’s likely.”
Saige wished she could kick him under the table, but she sat cross-legged and had to resort to a forceful squeeze of his hands. “Shut up. We need to be serious.”
Her entire body tensed with anticipation. “Theodosia Sinclair, we invoke you to come forward to dwell among us. We seek answers about your tragic dem—”
One of the candles hissed and went out.
Saige couldn’t help it. She opened her eyes.
One after another, all the candles flickered and dimmed, the flames dissolving into smoke. Shadows crept forward. There was something unusual about the way the darkness rose to the ceiling. Heavy gusts tore at the house outside, whispers layered on each other in the storm. Or was that a trick of the wind?
Saige’s phone buzzed in her pocket.
Her heart thudded into her ribs.
But I have no reception.
She let go of Jasper’s hand and plunged her fingers into her pocket. She shook so badly she could barely decipher the message on the screen.
STOP! DO NOT DO THIS!
Saige blinked at the words.
This time, her heart threatened to rupture in her chest.
Dr Harriette Reynolds had sent the text.
No. That’s not possible. Harriette is dead.
The message faded, replaced with another.
RUN! GO TO YOUR ROOM AND LOCK THE DOOR!
The phone buzzed again.
SHE. KNOWS. SHE. KNOWS. SHE. KNOWS. SHE. KNOWS. SHE. KNOWS.
More messages came through, the same words repeated over and over again until Saige thought her eyes might burst from the sight of them.
Jasper’s sudden gasp alerted her that something was wrong. His eyes were trained on the window. “Saige… I think she’s here.”
A silhouette appeared through the mist outside. Woman-shaped, hunched, and reeking of death, the creature didn’t seem to have the full use of its legs. Its feet dragged horribly on the stone beneath the window, its gasps loud and grisly enough to be heard over the wind. There was a clack-dah-clack-clack-clack sound. Saige fancied it was the creature’s bones clicking into place, as though the thing really had just climbed out of a grave.
Its face appeared in the window. Saige recognised the strong draw and black widow’s peak from the photograph.
It’s Theodosia!
Her eyes were reduced to black stains, her skin shrivelled and torn in places where insects had feasted on her.
Chills broke out over Saige’s body. She was on her own feet now, her legs threatening to buckle as dizziness washed over her.
I really have summoned Theodosia from her burial place.
Theodosia’s crooked fingers scraped against the window. Her nails left scores in the glass. She didn’t say anything, but the way she kept peering behind her, terror alight in her dark eyes, told Saige there was something worse just beyond.
What is she afraid of?
Saige’s adrenaline spiked. “How do I help you? What can I do to break the curse?”
Theodosia kept peering over her shoulder. She frantically scratched at the window. When that didn’t work, she began pounding her fists against the glass. Spiderwebbing cracks appeared across the surface.
“What do you want?” Saige persevered.
Theodosia turned and looked at her, pure hatred in her eyes. Stubbed teeth sank into her lower lip before she screamed, her voice piercing, “Pay the sins of the father.”
The window exploded. Glass fragments burst through the air, momentarily beautiful as they reflected shadow and light, and then, like projectiles, dived toward Saige and Jasper.
Saige felt something strong tug her. Jasper pulled her from the room, the strength in his arm forcing her to run. “Come on. Move!”
She heard a frightening crash of glass behind her and had no objection to fleeing for her life.
They scrambled up the flight of stairs to the second level, speeding through the maze of passages. Saige’s legs ached and her lungs burned, but she didn’t inhale an easy breath until they were in her room and the door was locked securely behind them.
She checked her phone. No new messages.
She wiped tears out of her eyes.
I think I just made everything worse.