Grave Echoes: A Kate Waters Mystery (26 page)

Thea stopped. “Shh.”

Kate listened for footsteps or scraping brush. Only the wind whistled through the pines. No people, cars, birds, or squirrels shambled around. It was late; everything slept, or pretended to. Kate looked up at the top of the hill—a strange shape of shadows stood tall.

“Up there,” Thea said, pointing to it.

As they got closer to the top, Kate recognized the shadows as a group of Birch trees, grown and entwined around each other in the shape of a seven-foot square. An entrance arched with branches opened into the wooded dwelling. The white spotted trunks of the trees were spaced evenly apart and the limbs pruned to accent the square shape of the hut. A wooden label near the ground read, The House of Summer.

Thea paused before entering and reached into her bag. She pulled out a smudge stick, and lit it, blowing on it gently. The bundled herbs burned and glowed as she waved it around herself.

“Banish from thee, all negativity,” she said, and then handed the stick to Kate.

Reluctantly, after a disfavoring look from Thea, Kate took the smoldering stick and swirled it around, repeating the same. She felt childish doing so, and ironically, Thea was in no mood for games, giving her a stern glance.

Before entering, Thea lit a candle, peered into the narrow opening, and stepped inside. Kate waited, for what, she didn’t know. She bent down to look in the little tree cave when Thea’s hand stuck out and waved her in.

“Here goes nothing,” she whispered, and then ducked into the trunk-ribbed cave.

Inside the deceptively spacious hut, bright ivory branches enhanced by candlelight draped and braided around them like an enchanted grotto. Even in the chill of the night, the place felt cozy. Thea busied herself unpacking her black satchel and organizing tools on a red cloth. Kate watched, sitting cross-legged and tapping her thumbs. She wanted to flee, but curiosity kept her still. She wanted to know what Jev’s witchcraft was all about.

Thea set her bag aside. “I’m setting up the altar. You will sit there,” she pointed to a spot next to Kate, “facing west, the direction the sun sets as we hope your troubles will soon too. I will face east, encouraging light and protection to rise and surround you.”

It seemed logical and ludicrous at once, but the novelty of the moment drew her in. In the center of the cloth, Thea positioned a sand dollar, with one tall black candle on one side, and one tall red on the other. Just below the sand dollar, she placed a white candle and a copper disk that held a charcoal block and then sprinkled it with dark powder from a bag labeled, Dragon’s Blood Resin. Kate’s stomach fluttered. Then Thea set two ceramic bowls, filling one with water and another with salt.

She looked at Kate. “The elements are in place.”

“Okay,” Kate replied, not knowing what else to say.

Thea handed her two white tea candles. “Put these on each side of you.” She set two beside herself and one at the entrance. After thinking about the placement of the candles, Kate realized that they made a five-pointed star. In a graceful sweep, Thea lit the candles of the star, repeating a verse at each one:

Aradia bound

Thy circle round

On sacred ground

The wind picked up outside the hut, and the branches of the birches scraped together. Kate imagined who Aradia could be, what kind of power she might yield, or what she looked like. Then, a snap sounded behind her. Thea either didn’t hear it, or chose not to notice while she focused on the rite. The trunks of the birches resembled a cage of bones, shielding Kate’s sight from eyes that might be prowling outside. She leaned to the side and peered through a gap, catching sight of something gray fading behind a shrub.

“What is it?” Thea asked.

“I thought I saw something.” She thought about the wolf. The little girl said it would follow her.

Thea picked up a bell and rang it. The ring spanned across the park, signaling their presence, exactly the opposite of what Kate had wanted to do. “What are you doing!”

“Whatever it is will go away.”

“And if it doesn’t want to?”

Thea turned her attention back to the items on the cloth, while Kate kept watch around them. She opened a little dark bottle and dabbed her forehead, chest, wrists, and ankles, and then handed the bottle to Kate when she was done. Kate rubbed the same areas on herself, taking in the invigorating, musky smell of sandalwood and pine.

“We’ll need to hold hands,” Thea said, extending hers, palms up.

An uneasy feeling stirred inside Kate. She was about to perform a spell. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You’ve already started.” Thea’s eyes seemed to glow.

Kate sighed, tilting her head back. A vision of white flowers lying across her chest flashed into her memory. She sat up straight, looked Thea in the eye, and grabbed her cold, soft hands. It was too late to turn back, for what was behind her was worse than what lay in front of her. For an instant, like a smoky mirage, she saw Jev’s face in Thea’s, smiling at her.

“Ready?”

Jev’s image faded. “Yes.”

Thea dipped her fingers in the bowl of water, gesturing for Kate to do the same. “Focus. Clear your mind and relax,” she said. “Feel the cold earth beneath you, the wind on your face, the warm light of the fire, and the cool water on your skin.”

Kate strained to loosen herself and clear her thoughts. She concentrated on breathing, but her fear of what might be outside the hut burrowed unease deep in her psyche. Fear of the murderer stalking her—fear of the ghosts, fear of the wolf. Fear.

“Let your troubles parade themselves,” Thea said, coincidentally. “Acknowledge them, but keep them moving down the avenue of consciousness until your path becomes clear.” Her voice was low and strong, and a confidence glimmered in her eyes, an air of wisdom that both entranced and intimidated Kate. She shut her eyes, glimpsing scenes from her work, her sister’s wake, and Mr. Burton chopping wood the other day, trying to let them surface and fade. It was hard at first, but then the parade sped up, as an assorted array of worries and memories wheeled through her mind. Then it all stopped. Light came into her view like raindrop puddles.

“Breathe deeply,” Thea said. Then she began chanting:

Earth grow

Air blow

Fire glow

Water flow

She repeated the verse, getting faster with each repetition. Kate began chanting with her, keeping her eyes closed, her mind clear. In the rhythm of their mantra, she felt a shift in her attention, as though she’d stepped down into a swimming pool. The coolness flooded her senses.

She felt her concerns slip away, or maybe they just seemed trivial now as a dreamlike state enveloped her. She envisioned herself swimming in a blue lagoon. High basalt cliffs lush with flora surrounded her under a warm, cerulean sky. She spun and twisted in the water, watching the world twirl above her. Emerald leaves and a sapphire sky whirled together like watercolors. The familiar shape of a human figure atop the cliff stopped her. She had long hair, fair skin, and a tender smile—her mother. She looked young and vibrant. In her hand, a light flashed. Something burned and she held it away from herself as the flames rose higher before she dropped it. Kate was about to call out to her when she saw something come up behind her, another shadow. The wolf. She tried to shout, but a hand grabbed her wrist.

Kate’s eyes sparked open; Thea stared at her.

“Remember your visions,” she said. “They contain sacred knowledge.”

Kate noticed the trunks of the trees radiated brighter…somehow. The two tall candles had been lit and flickered, but when she looked down, Thea’s hands were still in hers.

“At this time, at this hour, we call upon the sacred powers, of Air, Fire, Water, Earth, Divinity who gave us birth. We seek sacred shelter and ask for your magic with honor.”

Thea scooped herbs from the bowl and sprinkled them on top of a charcoal block. It sparked and smoldered, releasing a sweet and musky bouquet of tendrils into the crisp autumn air.

“Hold out your palms, face up,” Thea said. Kate complied. She poured salt from the bowl into small piles in the center of Kate’s hands. “Repeat after me: salt of Earth, protect my body.”

“Salt of Earth, protect my body,” Kate repeated. Thea motioned for her to toss her hands to the sides, dispersing the salt on the ground. Then, she sprinkled more resin over the charcoal block and moved her hands over the smoke of the smoldering herbs, “Air of Sky, protect my breath.”

Kate repeated her verse and movements. “Air of Sky, protect my breath.”

Thea picked up the red candle, “Fire of Star, protect my heart.” She handed the candle to Kate.

“Fire of Star, protect my heart.”

She poured water over their hands. “Water of Sea, protect my spirit.”

“Water of Sea, protect my spirit,” Kate finished.

Thea unrolled a piece of paper, drew a five-pointed star in the middle, and circled it. She picked up the athame and reached for Kate’s hand. Kate jerked it back.

“I need a drop of your blood,” she said.

“What?”

“The pentacle has to be connected to you.”

“What about a lock of hair?”

“It’s not the same.”

Kate extended her curled hand to her.

“I only need five drops,” Thea said. She pierced into the meat of Kate’s palm, where at least there were fewer pain receptors, and squeezed five drops of blood onto the pentacle. Then she rubbed the corners with oil from a vial.

Bound within the circle,

infuse protection with this script

Defend from all harm,

the blood from which this spell dripped

Sand, Sky, Star, and Sea,

bring your strengths to she in need

Aradia, Aer, Anubis, Brigid

guard Katlyn Waters beyond these trees

She handed Kate the oil- and blood-smudged piece of paper.

“By all the power of three times three; this spell bound around shall be; to cause no harm nor return to thee; as I do will so smote it be.”

Kate repeated the verse three times with Thea.

“Keep this on you,” she said. “When you need protection, burn it, and you will receive shelter from the Gods and Goddesses.”

Kate nodded, even though she could feel skepticism tighten across her face.

“Power begins inside you. It is a desire that grows, altering your surroundings toward your goal, your motive.” Thea clasped her hands together, aiming away from her solar plexus. “The power must reside within you to surround you. Do you understand?”

Kate looked at the paper. That’s all it really was; how could it protect her? “My wanting to be protected from whatever is threatening me is going to protect me?” She replied, looking around the outside of the hut for moving shadows.

“No.”

Kate rolled her eyes back to her.

“It is not about want,” Thea rephrased. “It is about belief. You must believe in the spell. You do not hope it works, you know it will. No matter what occurs or how dire the situation becomes, you must believe without a doubt that your spell will transpire. When you believe full-heartedly in something, it is real, because you make it so.”

Kate rolled the piece of paper up and put it in her pocket. She couldn’t help but think of Jev and her protection spell. “Why wasn’t Jev protected?”

Thea looked away from her while she spoke, arranging her tools. “Sorting strength and will from sensible decision making is a challenge for many. Having the ability to tap into power should not equate with foolish invincibility.” She looked back at Kate. “Jev was a powerful witch, but she often followed her heart too often, which got her into many dangerous situations.”

Kate knew what she meant. Jev tended to make decisions based on emotions rather than intellectual reasoning.

Thea pulled out a flask. “What’s that?” Kate asked.

“Hennigan’s whiskey.” She replied as if it were obvious. “We’ve performed the spell, bound it with belief, and now we seal it.” Her face turned playful, and then she tipped her head back, and downed a large swallow, scrunching her face as she did. “It’ll help your knee too,” she said grinning.

Kate chortled and then took the bottle Thea held out to her, but the snapping of wood to the right stopped her.

Thea acknowledged it this time, with a jerk of her head. “What’s going on?” She blew out the candles.

Through the trees, Kate could see something stirring. She moved her head to the side. Banded shadows flitted between the trunks. Someone or something was out there.

“Kate?”

“There’s something in the trees,” she replied, handing the flask back to Thea.

“What do you mean…something?” Thea took it and pulled her athame from its sheath.

“I think we should leave.”

“It’s probably just a raccoon,” Thea said, seeming to sound more optimistic than her tone let on.

Kate thought she heard a rumble—no, growl. “This isn’t just an animal.” She stood. “We have to get out of here.”

“What do you think is out there?” Thea asked. She began collecting items into her bag.

“A wolf.” Any other person would have frowned at Kate in disbelief, believing a wolf living wild in the middle of the city absurd, but Thea’s face went blank.

“How do you know it’s not him?” Thea returned.

Him. That thought wasn’t much more comforting to Kate. In her preoccupation with the wolf, she’d forgotten about him.

She stepped from the wooded dwelling.

“Wait!” Thea called. “You didn’t seal the spell.” She dug in her bag for the flask.

“We don’t have time for that. Let’s get out of here.” Kate darted towards the path and waited for Thea. Shadows bended everywhere. Anything could hide easily among them.

Thea grabbed Kate’s arm. “Follow me,” and then she ran down the trail. They made their way through the forested corridor, twigs of maples and wild berry bushes thwacking their faces. Kate’s heart galloped and her knee throbbed like a second heartbeat. The moment felt charged, like electricity crackled around her, the taste of acidic fear. She sensed the forest had eyes, a presence within the shadows that watched her. Kate felt the hands of the ghosts behind her again, reaching to pull her down.

Ahead, the lights of the parking lot shone through the trees, and Kate ran faster, despite the painful stiffness in her knee. She began to limp as the effect of Thea’s salve wore off. They reached their vehicles, and though Kate was eager to leave the park, she wasn’t sure where she was going to go next.

“You shouldn’t go anywhere by yourself, Kate,” Thea said. “You’re clearly in danger, and you didn’t seal the spell.”

Kate motioned to the bag. “I’ll drink it now.”

“You needed to seal the spell in the circle,” Thea scorned.

“Well, we had to get out of there,” Kate said, unlocking her jeep. She searched for her phone in the glove box, wanting to get a hold of David, let him know where she was.

Thea leaned on her door. “Then come to my house.”

“No.” Kate climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’m not putting anyone else in danger.” Her phone rang. “It’s David, hold on.”

She flipped open the phone. “Hey, I was about to call you.”

“Where are you? I’ve been worried sick,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I’m with Thea. Are you at the house?”

“No, I just got off work, but you weren’t answering the line at home.”

Kate fell silent.

“What’s going on?” David asked her.

“I saw ghosts tonight, at the house.”

“You did?”

She could hear the surprise in his voice. “I’m sorry, David, that I didn’t believe you. You were right. I saw a group of people in the living room, surrounding me on the couch.”

“In the living room? I need to see you right away.” He sounded different.

“What is it?” Kate turned to see Thea reflecting her worry.

“Can we meet at the cemetery?” David asked.

“Tryon Creek Cemetery, tonight?”

Thea started shaking her head.

“I have to work tomorrow,” David said. “Besides, we’re more likely to get caught snooping in the daylight than we are at night. Will you meet me in a half-hour?”

Kate sighed, wanting nothing but to rest, yet knowing that until she discovered the truth about Jev, she wouldn’t be able to.

“Kate, I think I discovered what the key goes to.”

“The grave bins?”

“No,” David said. “A crypt.”

Thea listened with crossed arms and tightened brows. Even though she only heard half the conversation, Kate knew she understood it all.

“Does this have anything to do with Mary Stephens?” she asked, recollecting one of the women she’d seen in the house. Kate wondered if she were one of them.

“I’m not sure,” he said.             

Once again, elusive answers to perplexing questions. As much as she dreaded going back to the cemetery, at least she would be safe with David. Tonight, they might finally put the whole ghost thing behind them. Kate recalled her hallucination, the look on her sister’s face. She didn’t want to unlock whatever it was Jev had found. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Good. Bring the key.”

***

He waited anxiously for her arrival, tapping his hands rhythmically on the wheel of his truck. She’d gone to the cemetery last night and he knew it was just a matter of time before she figured it all out. He had to be ready when she showed. A mental list of items he might need scrolled through his mind: rope, duct tape, a flashlight, his 9mm Glock, XL garbage bags, and just in case things got messy, bleach and a change of clothes.

He’d walked the perimeter of the cemetery, making sure the gates were locked, no abandoned cars or wandering teens were nearby, and the crypt was still undisturbed. The stick he’d aligned with the seam of the door had been moved, but the gum he’d stuck between at the bottom corner of the door remained intact. A small animal or the wind probably shuffled the stick, but if anyone had tried unlocking the crypt, the gum would have come unstuck.