Chapter 24

Once she crossed the threshold of the family home place, Fiona felt stronger. Sarah’s protections and wards washed away some of the residual effects of her battle with the angry and violent ghost.

Brenna sat alone at the dining room table, studying The Connelly Book of Magic. One eyebrow lifted as she looked at Bailey. Then her gaze sharpened on Fiona and she arose, alarmed. “What happened to you?”

“I’m okay,” Fiona assured her, but winced as she took a chair. Her face was swelling, and the cuts on her forearms stung. The beating from the ghost had jarred every bone in her body. She explained her bruises and cuts to Brenna.

“Eva Grace is with Sarah,” Brenna said. “I’ll get her.”

“No, please don’t,” Fiona spoke at the same time Bailey said, “That’s a good idea.”

Fiona frowned. “Sarah needs her.”

“You do, too,” Bailey insisted. “You can’t help your family if you’re hurting like this.”

“I almost hate to say this,” Brenna said. “But Mr. Hollywood is correct.” She hurried out of the room.

“You’re hurt worse than you said.” Bailey knelt beside her chair, his blue eyes clouded. “We should have gone to the hospital.”

His genuine worry touched Fiona. He really cared, she realized. Too much had happened for her to spend much time analyzing the emotions going on between them, but his concern filled her with warmth.

Brenna and Eva Grace rushed back into the room, her cousin carrying her leather medicinal pouch. The moment she touched Fiona, the pain lessened. Soft, healing magic flowed through Fiona’s body, easing every throb and twinge. Brenna left and brought back a basin of warm water and a washcloth, and Eva Grace began to clean the abrasions on Fiona’s arms.

“Make her some ginger tea,” Eva Grace told Brenna.

“And get me some chocolate,” Fiona requested. “Bailey left everything he bought me at the convenience store.”

“I was a little busy dealing with invisible shields and devil-chasing dogs.”

Eva Grace demanded that Bailey tell her everything as she applied a cool salve to her cuts. “There’s comfrey in this,” she explained as she brushed some over the bruise on Fiona’s cheek. “It promotes healing.”

“Good,” Bailey said, spectacular grin replacing his grim expression. “We can’t have any permanent damage to this beautiful face.”

Fiona lost herself in his smile. He thought she was beautiful. No one had ever called her that. Eva Grace was beautiful. Lauren was glamorous. Maggie was pretty. Brenna was a voluptuous force of nature. Fiona had always felt ordinary beside her fellow witches. Until now. Until Bailey.

Eva Grace cleared her throat in the silence. “My, my,” she murmured with a knowing look at Fiona. “So that’s the way of it.”

Shaking her head to clear it of fanciful dreams, Fiona flushed. She was grateful that Brenna appeared with a cup of tea, a bowl of broth, and a large slice of Coca-Cola cake. Fiona attacked the chocolate first, while Brenna disappeared into the kitchen again. She brought out the same meal for Bailey.

“Eat it,” Fiona ordered at Bailey’s protest. “You’ll feel better.”

“Marcus got the broth out of the freezer,” Brenna explained to Fiona. “Sarah keeps it on hand, infused with magic to deal with headaches and other small ailments.”

“Is she taking food?” Fiona asked, hope quickening inside her.

Eva Grace shook her head, looking worried. “Marcus and I poured a bit into her. It’s important to keep nourishing liquids going in to keep up her strength. As a last resort, we’ll have an IV set up. I may have Dr. Hargrave come out and see her.” She referred to a surgeon in town who was the grandson of a Cherokee healer and understood their ways.

“Where’s everyone else?” Fiona asked.

“Delia and Aiden are resting so they can sit with Sarah later,” Brenna replied. “I sent the others off to rest and get ready for the remainder of the day. Uncle Van should be buried before moonrise.”

Fiona protested. “Not until Sarah wakes up. She will want to see his body.”

Brenna was firm. “She would want us to follow tradition. The county medical examiner released Van’s body. The coffin was taken to the funeral home, and we’ll be ready at sunset today.”

“So we just go on without Sarah?” Fiona’s voice shook. Bailey laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Brows drawn, Brenna flicked a glance between him and Fiona. “We’re trying to find answers, Fiona. None of us have ever dealt with an enchantment like this.”

“Have you found anything to help in the Book of Magic?”

“No, I just started looking through it.”

Eva Grace put the container of salve back in her kit. “Rodric is coming over soon. He has some ideas about getting the book to speak. For now, I’m going back up to Sarah. Maybe I can get Marcus to rest for a bit.”

After she exited, Bailey said, “Did she say the book would speak?”

Brenna scowled. “That’s none of your concern.”

“He knows everything,” Fiona said defensively. She turned to Bailey. “There are family legends that say the book can talk. We wonder if there are secrets it might reveal that could help us break the curse.”

Though Brenna gave Bailey another glare, she said, “It’s past time for the book to give up something to help us. We may be the first generation to actively battle this curse, and some assistance would be appreciated.”

A puff of wind blew out of the fireplace and ruffled the pages of the large, open book on the table.

“Granny Ghost,” Fiona observed. “She’s unsettled.”

“I am trying to help.” Bailey told Brenna about the missionary papers his researcher had located in Savannah.

“We need anything we can find,” Brenna said with grudging gratitude. “I’ve also got Lauren searching Coven Glan for a way to help Sarah.”

At Bailey’s questioning look, Fiona explained, “Coven Glan is a secret internet for practitioners of the craft. You have to know special access codes and possess magic to use it.”

Brenna gave her sister another stern look.

“Please stop worrying,” Fiona exclaimed. “He’s sworn to secrecy.”

“I have nothing to gain by revealing your secrets,” Bailey said. “Other than possibly being institutionalized for delusions.”

“It’s happened to visitors before.” Brenna stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes betraying her distrust as she studied Bailey.

Another breeze blew through the room. Fiona stood up so fast she knocked her chair over.

“What is it?” Bailey asked.

Brenna looked around in alarm. “Who’s here? I doubled Sarah’s wards.”

Recognizing the essence of the spirit who wavered in the air, Fiona said, “Aunt Celia. Where have you been?”

Sarcasm bubbled out of Brenna. “Good question. Are you two going to go let another ancient ghost go free?”

Celia’s shimmering form disappeared, and guilt climbed through Fiona. “I’m sorry, Brenna. Celia and I thought we were helping. We were just looking for answers like everyone else.”

“You’re not helping Fiona.” Anger snapped in Bailey’s gaze as he faced Brenna. “She’s beating herself up about what’s happened. She doesn’t need your blame, too.”

Brenna’s body sagged, and she scrubbed a hand through her thick auburn hair. “I’m sorry, Fiona. No one blames you or Celia. I just want you to be careful.”

“What has being careful done for us so far?” Fiona asked with weariness. She stepped forward and reached out with her special sight. “Celia? Come back. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The figure that was so like Fiona and Brenna’s mother formed in front of Fiona. She put out her hand.

“There’s trouble,” she told Fiona. “Most of the spirits in town are in hiding away from Albert. The demon has him and together they are spurring the more restless spirits to misbehave. And anyone who hadn’t passed over now can’t.”

“Uncle Van?”

Celia shook her head sadly. “He’s caught.”

In addition to her uncle, Fiona thought of Mr. Llewellyn, whom she had seen at the farm yesterday and of Bailey’s sister.

“Is Anna hiding?”

At the name, Bailey stepped forward. “What about her?”

Celia said, “I don’t know where the girl has gone. Some others are gathering at the old cemetery.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure.” Celia’s form began to fade. “Please come, Fiona. You may be able to help.”

Fiona expelled a deep breath. Brenna and Bailey were on either side of her, puzzled looks centered on the empty space where Celia had been.

“What did she say?” Brenna demanded.

“I have to go to the cemetery.”

“No,” Bailey and Brenna said together.

Fiona almost smiled at this rare moment of agreement between the two. “You can waste time arguing with me or I can get over there and find out what’s happening.”

“Not alone,” Brenna protested.

“I’ll be with her,” Bailey said.

“Oh, that’s reassuring.”

“Bailey will go with me,” Fiona told her sister. “You need to stay here and keep researching what to do to help Sarah.”

Brenna acquiesced with a troubled sigh, and Fiona hugged her. “You and Eva Grace should also grab a nap or at least a beauty spell this morning. You look like hell.”

Fiona left her sister huffing and went with Bailey to the van. Her cousin’s healing, the magic broth, and the rich chocolate cake had restored her energy, but she still allowed him to drive.

“What was that about Anna?” he asked.

She told him what Celia said.

“What do you feel about Anna? You said she’s usually near me.”

“She’s not here,” Fiona said and tried not to be concerned. She had not seen Anna since she appeared at the home place the day before yesterday. “Remember how she mentioned Minnie? I’m sure Minnie is helping her.” She hoped she sounded convincing.

Bailey frowned. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“Maybe we’ll find some answers at the cemetery.” Fiona turned to look out the window to hide her worry. Outside, the day that had dawned clear was now overcast and dark. Clouds boiled over the mountains when the van turned onto Devil’s Creek Road.

Bailey brought the vehicle to a stop at the cemetery, and they stepped out into heavy, moist air.

They saw no crows assembled on the graves today, just a black, swirling mist. Fiona distinguished some shapes, and a low keening joined the thunder that rumbled overhead. Even Bailey said he could hear the noise.

“Maybe you should stay here,” Fiona warned him.

“Save your breath. Where you go, I go.” He gestured toward the cemetery. His expression sobered as they once again faced the simmering cauldron of unrest in front of them. He held up his phone. “My video is working right now. I’m going to record this so we can look at it later.”

He took her hand and they stepped forward. The mist closed around them like doors, filtering the daylight and blocking the sky.

Fiona stopped and Bailey immediately stepped in front of her. “What is it?”

“Do you hear a baby crying?”

He listened a moment but shook his head. “Just that moaning sound.”

“It’s the baby,” Celia said, appearing beside Fiona.

“Whose baby?” Fiona asked.

Celia moved forward, disappearing in the gloom.

“Stay close to me,” Fiona told Bailey. “Celia’s here, and she’ll help me.”

“Let me know if you see your visitor from this morning,” he said. “He’s not going to throw you around again.”

Fiona stopped and looked at him. “How will we stop him?”

“Run?”

Bailey’s expression almost made Fiona laugh. The high, thin wail of a baby captured her attention again, however, and she led Bailey through the crumbling gravestones.

Shapes formed in the mist. Hands reached for Fiona, and she reached back. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

A half dozen ghosts responded to her, each more insistent than the other.

“Find the baby.”

“The baby wants its mother.”

“Help the baby.”

“Only its mother can quiet the child.”

“She never comes for him.”

“He needs her.”

As each spirit spoke, it disappeared until only one ghost stood in front of Fiona. It was a man dressed in the clothes of a farmer. He looked directly into Fiona’s eyes and said, “Get the baby to his mother and then you must help us.”

That said, he too disappeared.

Celia drifted into view. “Come with me.”

“What’s going on?” Bailey whispered.

Fiona held tight to his hand and followed her guide. Her shirt and jeans were damp from the dense, wet air, and water ran down her back. Bailey’s face glistened with moisture. The atmosphere was like a giant sponge. Fiona found it hard to breathe.

“This is not good.” Bailey’s breathing was heavy, as well.

Overgrown weeds covered the back of cemetery. In the deepening gloom, Fiona stumbled over a stump.

Bailey grabbed her arm, pulling her up before she hit the ground. “Are you sure we should go on?”

The baby’s screams filled Fiona’s head. She had to help this child. She plunged forward.

The grave markers in the back of the cemetery were the oldest ones. Some of them were so weathered it was impossible to read the names and dates on them. When they reached the back corner, Celia stopped and pointed to a pile of stones, moss, and snarling weeds.

Fiona knelt. All she could hear was the baby’s cry.

She dug through the weeds and scruff, ignoring the sting of thorns on her hands. Bailey dug with her, and soon she touched the cool stone of a broken grave marker. They pushed the weeds, dirt and twisted vine away, and letters became legible on the marker.

Fiona scrubbed off the dirt. “Baby MacCuindliss” was carved in uneven letters deep in the stone.

“It’s her baby,” Celia said.

“Are you sure?”

The spirit nodded.

Bailey drew in a deep breath beside her. “What does this mean?”

“This is the Woman in White’s baby.” Fiona dropped to her knees and traced the name on the marker with tender fingers. “Please don’t cry,” she whispered. “I’ll try to find your mother, I promise.”

The baby’s cry faded to a whimper. Celia disappeared. The mist blew away, leaving Fiona and Bailey under a canopy of threatening clouds.

“MacCuindliss,” Fiona breathed. “The Woman’s name.”

Lightning streaked over the mountains, and the ominous stink of sulfur infused the air.