We pulled up across the street from a neighborhood I’d explored as a kid, full of small houses, on small lots, and lots of parks. It was the kind of neighborhood that was perfect for trick-or-treating, and few places beat it for playing late at night. My friends and I used to bike from one park to another, playing silly games, like hide and seek in the dark. It was a place full of happy memories, even if the houses looked a tiny bit more run down than they had all those years before.
“Daisy Farms hasn’t changed one bit,” I said, noting the expansive neighborhood. “Except the trees are bigger.”
“It’s a nice place,” Carol said with a smile. “Lots of young families.”
We all climbed out of the car, and I looked from Mia Davis's house to a couple and their dog heading toward us on the street. The dog was some kind of purebred: tiny, white, and hopefully nice, or I’d be running from it in a second.
Small dogs could be mean, after all.
Beth headed toward the house, but Carol gasped behind me. I glanced at her and realized she was staring at the dog. Well, maybe not the dog, she could've been staring at the people. Studying them, there was something familiar about them, but nothing too remarkable. They were old enough to be my parents, with gray hair, lots of wrinkles, and clothes that whispered of money. Not in the way a vampire’s or mermaid’s did, more like they bought expensive clothes and wore them forever, rather than buying every pretty thing they saw.
“I can’t believe it,” my friend whispered in disbelief.
“Carol?” I asked, confused.
Her shoulders went back, and she walked toward the couple with all the grace of a queen, gliding across the sidewalk. I followed behind her without a thought, half out of curiosity, and half because she might need some backup. Which was weird. They were just an older couple with a dog, right?
Somehow, they were more than that, and I knew it.
Carol stopped right in front of them, leveling them with a cold look that made a shiver roll down my spine. “Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft.”
Bancroft? Crap, Bryan’s parents?
They both stopped short, looking startled. Even a little uneasy, but the woman answered. “Carol, how are you?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “You heard Bryan had moved back to town, correct?”
They exchanged a look. Mr. Bancroft cleared his throat. “We'd heard, ah, something about that.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Before they could answer, she lifted a hand. “Actually, I already know the answer to that, you have not. Once upon a time, you had a teenage son who was turned into a vampire. He was terrified, confused, and looking for comfort from his family. What did you do? You threw him out. Like trash.”
They both paled, with Mr. Bancroft looking green around the edges. Their mouths opened and closed like fish gasping in water. Finally, Mrs. Bancroft said, “Vampires aren’t real.”
Carol took a step closer to them. “How do you know? Did you ask him any questions? Did you do anything to help him before you threw him out on the curb?” Her words were no longer cold, they were filled with venom.
Mr. Bancroft sighed. “Dear girl, I understand that you're confused and frustrated, but our son lost his mind. After everything we did to raise him well, he turned out, frankly, wrong in the head.”
“If you believe in the supernatural you’re wrong in the head?” She asked, and the glint in her eyes worried me a bit.
Mr. Bancroft scoffed. “Well, of course. You shouldn’t be so angry. Once upon a time children like Bryan were locked up and forgotten. By kicking him out, we did him a favor.”
Carol lifted a hand and their fluffy dog floated up into the air. It looked down at the ground and wiggled its legs. Not at all like it was troubled, but more like it thought flying through the air was the funnest thing it had ever done. The little fluff ball looked like it was trying to swim. Carol continued to lift him until it was level with their faces.
Both of their mouths dropped open.
“Is this supernatural? Seeing a flying dog?”
Mrs. Bancroft lifted a hand and pressed it against her mouth. “This isn’t happening,” she whispered softly.
Mr. Bancroft stared, his face pale, his eyes wide.
Carol moved closer, reached out, and touched the dog. Suddenly, its fur turned a bright shade of purple. “What about this? Is this supernatural?”
“Impossible,” Mr. Bancroft murmured.
Carol smiled. “Should you two be thrown away, kicked out of your home, or locked up? What’s your preference?”
They both looked at her, then at the dog.
"Pick one," Carol said through clenched teeth. “Bryan is an amazing guy. I understand that believing in magic and vampires and the supernatural is hard, but a parent who wouldn’t give their kid the benefit of the doubt is a pretty awful parent. What you need to know is that I’m a witch, most of my friends are witches, and Bryan is a thousand percent a vampire. Also, vampires aren’t as scary as the media might lead you to believe. Regardless, Bryan is your son. You did him wrong. You broke his heart. I don’t know if he can ever forgive you, but if I were you, I’d spend the remainder of your lives trying.” She lowered the dog. “His color will return to normal in a couple of weeks. I'd change it back now, but you need a reminder that this happened."
She turned away from them and sniffed as she walked toward the house we'd come to visit.
"Yeah," I said so suddenly and loudly they both jumped. Smirking, I followed my incredible friend. When we reached the other side of the road, I hurried to her side and said, “Remind me never to piss you off.”
“Oh, that was me very controlled,” she said, eyes flashing in a way that made me a little afraid. “If I'd done what I wanted to do, well, I'd no longer be a good witch.”
I almost asked her what she wanted to do, but then decided that I didn’t want to know. Beth waited for us in front of the little tan house, staring at us in confusion. I mouthed that I’d tell her later, and she nodded. Bryan’s parents had turned back the way they’d come, now walking double fast. At least if they asked themselves if it all really happened, they had a purple dog to remind them that it most certainly had.
“Ready?” Beth asked, nodding toward the door. “You’ll need to keep your karma senses open to figure out what’s going on.”
“Of course,” I said, even though I was a little thrown off after our little kerfuffle with Bryan's parents.
Beth took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. A second later, a young brunette woman in her twenties with a messy bun opened the door. The bags under her eyes said she needed a nap. The box of donuts and a bag of chips in her hands said, well, I wasn't sure what.
"Mia Davis?" Carol asked.
Mia nodded and reached around the bag of chips and pulled a donut out of her mouth. “Is it ten already? Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. When I got her to sleep, I had to have some comfort food and then I forgot and—” The first tear rolled slowly down her cheek, but then it was quickly followed by several more.
We all rushed out our reassurances. Carol was beside her in an instant, giving her a side hug, telling her that having little ones was hard, and that she shouldn’t feel bad. "Come on now. This is difficult. You did a good thing by reaching out to us. We can help you."
“Besides, pairing donuts and chips?” Beth said. “Genius. I’m literally going to go home and try that out.”
Mia pushed away her tears the best she could while holding everything and said, “You can have a donut.”
Beth smiled and took the box, and Carol led her inside. I followed behind, my senses tingling. Something was off in this house, but I couldn’t quite figure out what. My karmic powers had a way of surprising me. Sometimes I thought the unexpected changes were just my powers growing stronger with time, but sometimes I wasn’t sure.
We led her to her couch where she dug into the chip bag with one hand and grabbed another donut with the other hand. It reminded me somewhat of the day I became Karma, which, of course, made me feel bad. I'd been in such a bad spot that day, trying to process my cheating ex, his new partner, and my impending divorce. This woman had it worse, worrying that her child wasn’t her actual child.
That would be awful.
“I know how bad this sounds,” Mia said, a sob erupting before she continued.
“It’s okay,” I told her as she bit into her donut again, tears running down her face. “Being a new mom is hard enough without worrying about the supernatural.”
She nodded. “I’m a witch. I did all the usual spells and charms before I had my child, hoping for a smooth birth and a healthy baby. The magic was with me because I got both.” Taking another bite from her donut, she grew lost in her world for a moment.
I looked at Carol and Beth. They nodded at me as if to say that only my powers could help in this situation, which, I hoped was not the case. I knew nothing about changelings, almost nothing, so it felt like too much for me to try to figure this out on my own. Yet, if I could, I would.
Mia continued, “My baby was perfect in every way. For weeks, it was her and me, happy as can be. I don’t want to say she was an anomaly. She still cried. I still never had time to shower, or to do anything except nurse, but she was a normal, happy baby.”
“Something changed?” Beth asked, getting that intense look she had when she was interviewing a client.
She nodded, grabbing a handful of chips and crunching. “Yeah, one day I went to check on her in her crib, and she was quiet and staring. She’d never done that. It was eerie. She looked at me, which is usually the moment she smiles and reaches for me, only she didn’t. She burst out crying. From that point forward, she hated me. She didn’t want to nurse. Didn’t want to be near me. Every time I set her down, she went back to staring.” Her gaze met mine. “I know I sound crazy, but that baby might look like my baby, but she’s not. Can you find out where my child is?”
I shifted, very uncomfortable, but then realized what I was doing. “I'll help as much as I can.”
She looked relieved, setting the chips on the table, and finishing her donut. “By the way, I only eat like this when I’m stressed.”
“Stress eating, I’m familiar,” I said with a grin.
She nodded and lay back against the couch. “I’m just so tired from being worried.”
Beth reached over and patted her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ve helped people in worse shape than you.”
She looked relieved. “What will you do first?”
Beth turned to me. “Emma is going to walk through your house and use her powers to try to figure out what’s going on. Is that all right with you?”
“Of course,” Mia said. “I don’t mind if you go into the baby’s room. I figured you’d have to go in there, but she’s in her crib.”
The way she said it almost made me suspect she was warning me about a monster.
I gave her my best reassuring smile, then stood and walked around the room, stretching my senses out. Internally, I whispered to my powers, “Help me bring karma where it’s needed.” My body tingled and I moved into the kitchen, but the feeling grew duller, almost like the childhood game of Hot and Cold. I headed into the living room where everyone stared at me in silence.
My cheeks flushed. “This would actually be easier if you guys chatted and tried to ignore me.”
Beth realized that I felt uncomfortable, and that I wouldn’t be able to do this with them all staring at me. She turned to Mia. “Other than the changeling stuff, how are you adapting to motherhood?”
I tuned her out as I headed out of the room and down a hall. The feeling grew, becoming almost itchy against my skin. Goosebumps rose, and I slid into a bathroom, but the sensation dulled, so I exited it. I moved through another room, the master bedroom, and the master bathroom before I accepted what I’d already suspected. The feeling was coming from the last room. No doubt the baby’s room.
My stomach dropped. I didn't want the baby to be a changeling. Not only would that be horrifying, but I had no idea how I'd fix something like that. I pictured my son, now a grown man, and my heart ached. If someone had told me he wasn’t mine, I don’t know how I could've come to accept it. He was mine the day I held him in my arms.
Reaching the door, I sucked in a deep breath. Karma’s powers had steered me in the right direction thus far. I had to trust they'd steer me right here too and help me to help this family the best way they could. Having these powers wasn’t always a blessing. Sometimes they made life harder. At the end of the day, they set the world right, and if I could be the funnel to do that today, I would.
Even if it sucked.
It took all my willpower to turn the handle and open the door. A blast of powers, or magic, or something unsettling hit me like a wave. Bile rose in the back of my throat, but taking even breaths didn’t erase the uneasy, almost terrified, feeling inside of me. Every instinct told me to turn around and run right out of there, but I didn’t. If this mom was a witch and felt this every day, and yet still cared for her child, I could do it this one time.
The pastel pink and blue room had a white crib in the middle and a bookshelf filled with storybooks lining the wall. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, highlighting a chest of drawers and changing table, but the feeling of dread didn't lift. I crept around the room, my eyes scanning every corner and crevice. I stopped in front of a dream catcher hanging from the wall and a chill ran down my spine. Something was wrong. It all looked normal, but something about the room made me feel uneasy.
I continued to the crib and glanced down at the baby. Her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing on the ceiling. She was wrapped in a sleep sack covered in ladybugs, so her arms and feet were secured inside of it. I couldn't move. All I could do was watch her stare into nothingness in the middle of the room, surrounded by darkness and silence.
“Hello,” I said softly.
The child didn’t react. She kept staring, and a shiver rolled down my spine. Was this creature actually a changeling? Could she be a very strange baby?
It was my job to find out. Lifting a hand, I reached out and hovered above the baby. Drawing on my karmic powers, I asked them to show me the truth. To set things right. To find the source of the trouble.
To my shock, my powers got nothing sinister from the baby, but they did sense something. My hand swung away from the baby, like a magnet drawn to something metal. I was pulled across the room and my hand closed around the dream catcher hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the child’s room. I cried out when I touched it. It wasn’t hot, but it almost gave the same painful feeling as a burn.
Jerking my hand away, I gasped. The child wasn’t a changeling. There was something sinister in this room, something that was impacting both the baby and the mom. This dream catcher. How or why? I had no idea.
“Emma?” Beth, Carol, and Mia stood in the doorway, but it was Beth who'd spoken. “We heard you cry out.”
Had I been that loud? I shook my head. “I’m okay, but I’ve figured it out.” I looked at the mom. “Most importantly, your child isn't a changeling.”
Instead of looking relieved, Mia's eyes filled with tears. “No, there’s something wrong. You have to believe me.”
I lifted a hand. “There's something wrong, but it’s not your child, it’s this thing.” The last word came out a hiss of disgust as I pointed at the dreamcatcher.
Her face scrunched up. “I got that at a flea market from an older woman. She said it would bless my baby and give me good luck.”
For some reason, the back of my mind tingled. I thought of my dream. The one with the older woman. The one with Karma wanting her powers back. It was more than the dream. It was almost like I was picturing the faceless older woman handing this woman the dream catcher. I could even smell the flea market popcorn cooking, feel a cool breeze cutting through a massive open tent.
Every hair on my body stood on end.
“It’s not good luck. This thing is exactly the opposite,” I whispered.
The mom looked unconvinced.
“What should we do?” Beth asked.
I turned back to it and lifted a hand. “Whatever Karma thinks should happen to it.”
Letting my powers go toward it, I told them to give the item the karma it deserved. It only took a moment, then blue flames erupted all over it, and the cursed thing burned to ash. Before the ash could even hit the floor, the window sprung open, and the ash flew out the window by a burst of wind that was anything but normal.
All of us were silent, shocked to our core as the window slammed shut.
The baby started to cry. The mom raced to the child and picked her up. Within seconds, the child stopped crying, then gave a small smile, and Mia slipped into a rocking chair to nurse her. I didn’t know what to say or do when Mia started to cry.
“She’s herself again. She wants me again.” She continued speaking through her sobs, but the words were mostly nonsensical.
Beth and Carol reassured her. They calmed her down. They made it clear that we’d fixed the problem, and that if there was ever another one, we’d be back.
I was distracted. “Don’t ever take anything from an older woman again.”
Everyone looked at me. It was a weird thing to say, but the dream kept flashing back to me. The image I’d had a minute ago could be nothing. The woman in the market could have nothing to do with my dream, but my instincts were saying that everything was connected.
I’d learned to trust my instincts over the past few months.
Eventually, we left the mom and baby, heading back to the car, quiet until our car doors slammed. Beth didn’t start the car. We sat together, stunned.
“Are there a lot of cursed objects like that in Mystic Hollow?” I asked.
“No,” Beth said, her voice almost a whisper.
“Could someone have targeted her for a reason? Revenge? Jealousy? Something to do with her being a witch?”
“It’s possible,” Beth said. “Unlikely. I know a few witches who could put a curse on an object like that, at least a curse that strong, and all of them have strong rules against hurting children. There are witches in town that would hurt someone for hurting a child, but not the other way around.”
“This was strange,” I said, even though I’d already known it.
“Very strange,” Carol told me, and there was a flicker of worry in her eyes before Beth turned on the car and we headed off.