If Faith was in the Nightshade, Kimberly had no choice but to go back. She shuddered. Dismal and grim, filled with miserable spirits, she dreaded returning. As frightening as the in-between realm could be for lost spirits, it was far worse for living souls.
And potentially deadly. A living soul not properly tethered could become lost and wander adrift. Forever.
She’d heard of travelers who fell into comas—comas that confounded doctors who could find no medical reason to explain the condition. But she knew what had happened. She wouldn’t let it happen to Faith. Psychics could bring people back. She could do this if she could find the girl.
But Faith had been pulled into the Nightshade body and soul both—a phenomenon so rare, she’d never encountered it. A body in the spirit world couldn’t last long. Faith was a fish out of water right now.
Bursting into Faith’s bedroom, she went straight to the closet. She forced herself to calm her erratic heartbeat and gasping breaths. Faith needed strength and power to escape James.
Snickers crept to the yawning closet door, leaning forward, one paw up, and sniffed the space as if he knew Faith was near.
The prayer group’s song mingled with the angry mob’s continued chants. Both blew into the open window. Faith’s blue curtains reached into the room, straining against the curtain rod as if seeking escape from the noise.
Her crew and the Johnsons crowded into the room, watching her for signs of what they should do next.
Michael held the SEEPS, the Spectral-Enhancing Energy Power Source they’d designed. The black box produced electricity at a controlled rate, offering power to nearby spirits who wanted to charge. “I still think this is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Don’t turn it on yet. Not until I’ve brought Faith back.”
Michael set it on the floor. “Deal.”
Rosie opened her medicine bag and pulled a stone from it. “I doubt you’ll let me charge your chakras, since time is critical. At least hold onto this.”
Kimberly looked down at the smooth silvery-gray stone Rosie pressed into her hand. “Hematite?”
“To ground you.” Rosie closed her fist around the stone and pushed Sterling close. “You stay nearby too. You have a good track record of anchoring her.”
“What do you mean time is critical?” Daniel asked.
Kimberly looked to Michael, who nodded. “The longer Faith is in limbo, the more confused she will become. Besides, she’s a living being in the spirit plane. We need to bring her back where she belongs quickly.”
Ruth’s face crumbled, eyes filling with tears. Daniel put an arm around his wife. “We can’t lose our daughter.”
“You won’t. I won’t let that happen.”
She sat cross-legged, clutching her rough quartz crystal in one hand and the smooth hematite in the other. One would help free her spirit; one would keep her physical body firmly rooted in place. Closing her eyes, she sunk deeply into herself, leaving behind all distractions of the living world. She breathed in light and freeness, breathing out stress and complications. Everything she loved and cared about she held close while letting go of all worry and frustration.
Her spirit rocked a bit, loose now, no longer completely attached to her body. She opened her eyes and looked around. The closet gaped open before her, sepia-toned and grainy. The scene before her shook like a poor-quality home movie, blurring in and out of focus. One more tug and her spirit loosened, nudged from her body.
Whispering voices crackled in her ears, but she couldn’t grasp individual words or the meaning of the communication. Smoky fingers materialized at the ends of foggy hands. They pointed to the back of the closet, toward the wall.
She understood. They were directing her beyond the wall. To Faith? Or into a trap? Without knowing who powered these disembodied hands, she couldn’t take the risk. Her spirit had to stay within sight of her body. Otherwise the risk of permanent separation was too great.
She listened for the sound of a heartbeat within the silent nothing surrounding her, the tell-tale sign of a living being in the empty void.
Faint but there, she heard a frantic lub-dub pulsing through the emptiness around her. “Faith? Can you hear me?”
“Ms. Wantland?” The girl’s trembling voice broke her heart. The pitter-pat of her heartbeat kicked up another notch.
As if echoing through the chambers of an intricate cave system, she heard Sterling’s voice. “My God. I hear her. I hear them both through the speaker. How is this possible?”
“Mr. Wakefield,” she heard Ruth admonish, “please don’t take the name of the Lord in vain in this home.”
Despite the pressing need to find Faith, Kimberly smiled. Hearing them, knowing they were near, even if she couldn’t see them, helped buoy her and strengthen her resolve.
She pushed her hand through the back wall of the closet. Separated from her body, her spirit passed easily through the flimsy reflection of the real world she wandered. “Can you see my hand, Faith?”
“No,” came the quiet reply.
“No?” She was sure the girl was nearby. How did she miscalculate so badly?
“My eyes are closed. I saw . . . things.”
She sighed in relief. “Yes, I see them too. I need you to be brave. Open your eyes so you can see my hand and come to me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. I’m right here.”
No response.
She tried again. “Faith, be brave for one moment. Open your eyes, you’ll see my hand. Grab it and I’ll take you back to your family.”
The girl whimpered. “I see lots of hands. I don’t know which one is yours.”
Of course. She should have anticipated that. She’d seen many hands too.
“Okay. I’m going to move closer to you. But as soon as you see me, you must come to me and grab my hand as quickly as you can. As soon as I tell you to. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“This is very important, Faith. If we don’t go back soon, we could both get lost in here.”
“That would be bad.”
“That would be very bad.”
Michael’s voice crackled nearby, floating by her as though echoing from a great distance. “Ruth, tell her to run to Kimmy, the moment she tells Faith to go.”
Everyone depended on her. Trusted her. She could not fail the Johnsons. She breathed deeply, centering herself and taking note of her surroundings. She would not get lost. She could handle this. Even though her body would be out of sight and she’d never completely separated before. She would keep her feet firmly rooted in place and snap right back to her body. She took several deep breaths and pushed her head through the wall.
Faith sat huddled between wood framing some distance away. Shoot. She’d counted on the girl being just on the other side of the wall. Everything was distorted in the Nightshade, a flimsy representation of the living world, close but out of touch. Unless you knew how to cross planes.
Or were pulled into it unwillingly as Faith had been. The girl pressed her face against her knees, hiding from the bizarre landscape she’d been stolen away into.
“Faith, I’m here.”
The girl flinched but didn’t lift her eyes.
“Faith, it’s Ms. Wantland. Remember our deal? Come over here to me.”
Still hiding her face, Faith shook her head. “You might be tricking me. Some of the voices tell me they want to help.”
“Please, Faith. It’s really me. You have to trust me.”
“There’s another voice. He says he brought me here to help all the sad people. He says if I leave, they’ll be so sad they’ll die.”
“Don’t listen to that voice, Faith. That’s not your job. He’s tricking you. I’m here to help you and the sad ghosts.”
“He says you’re lying.” The girl clamped her hands over her ears. “Stop it! Everyone stop talking!”
Kimberly peered around the space. Empty. No other spirits appeared to her. The gray, empty space, a shadowy facsimile of the real world stretched on and on, beyond this house, these people, this history.
A tiny blue light shimmered on the horizon. The light beckoned to her, promising warm embrace, peace, tranquility, family and friends.
Kimberly.
The scent of lavender and freesia swirled about her, drawing her forward.
“Mom?” She stepped toward the light.
She floated easily, all worries left behind with her body—
Her body. She had drifted away from her body. She tore her gaze from the welcoming light. “Faith?”
She no longer saw the girl. And she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Shadows shifted alarmingly, twisting from recognizable shapes to gruesome abstraction. The floor and walls, now coated in ectoplasmic residue, tipped sideways. She grappled with the slippery surfaces, scratching her nails against nothing as she fought for a grip, feet stepping backward frantically but sliding closer to the ever-narrowing end. She struggled as the hallway narrowed until she saw where it would dump her—into a yawning chasm. The glowing mouth open before her shimmered and undulated—and seemed to have no end.