Hades (6 page)

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Authors: Alexandra Adornetto

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BOOK: Hades
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talking about. We need everyone’s combined energy for it

to work. We al need to concentrate and each put our index

finger on the base of the glass. Don’t press too hard, or the

energy gets clogged and it won’t work. Once we make

contact with the spirit, it’l spel out what it wants to say to

us. Okay, let’s get started. Everyone put your fingertips on

the glass
. Gently
.” I had to hand it to Abby. She was pretty

convincing considering I was quite sure she was making

everything up on the spot. The girls complied eagerly with

her instructions.

“What now?” said Madison.

“We wait for it to move.”

“Seriously?” Madison rol ed her eyes. “That’s it? What

stops everyone from just spel ing out whatever they want?”

Abby glared at her. “It’s not hard to tel the difference

between a joke and a real spirit message, Mad. Besides,

the spirit wil know things, things no one else could.” She

tossed her hair. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I only

know because I’ve had a lot of practice. Now, are we ready

to start?” she asked in a solemn voice.

I dug my fingernails into the rough carpet beneath me,

wishing there were some way to slip out of the room

unnoticed. When Mol y struck a match to light the candles

someone had arranged on the floor, I jumped. She brought

the flame to the wicks and the candles sizzled to life.

“Try not to make any sudden movements during the

seance,” Abby said, glaring pointedly at me. “We don’t

want to alarm the spirit. It has to feel comfortable with us.”

“You know from experience or from what you’ve seen on

the John Edward show?” Madison asked sarcastical y,

unable to help herself.

“The women in my family have always been very

connected to the
other side
,” Abby said. I didn’t like the way

she emphasized the words
other side
, as if she were tel ing

a ghost story at school camp.

“Have you ever seen a ghost?” Hal ie asked in a hushed

voice.

“I have,” Abby declared, deadly serious. “Which is why I

should act as medium tonight.”

I didn’t know whether Abby was tel ing the truth or not.

People sometimes caught flashes of the dead as they

crossed between worlds. But most of the time ghost

sightings were the result of a rampant imagination. A flash

of a shadow or a trick of the light could easily be mistaken

for something supernatural. It was different for me—I could

sense the presence of spirits al the time—they were

everywhere. If I focused, I could tel who was lost, who had

just passed on, and who was searching for their loved

ones. Gabriel had told me to tune them out—they weren’t

our responsibility. I remembered when my elderly friend

Alice had come to say good-bye after she’d passed on the

year before. I’d seen her outside my bedroom window

before she faded away. But not al spirits were as gentle as

Alice; the ones that were unable to let go of their earthly

attachment lingered for years, becoming more and more

twisted, driven mad by the life around them that they could

never be part of again. They lost touch with humans, came

to resent them, and often acted out in violent ways. I

wondered how keen Abby would be if she knew the truth

about what was real y out there. But there was no way of

tel ing her, not without giving myself away completely.

The girls nodded in agreement, happy to relinquish rights

to the role of medium. I felt Mol y shiver beside me. “Now

join hands,” Abby said. “And whatever you do, don’t let go.

We need to form a protective circle—if you break the circle

you set the spirit free.”

“Who told you that?” Savannah whispered. “Doesn’t

breaking hands just end the seance?”

“Yes, and if it’s a harmless spirit then breaking hands wil

send it back to rest, but if it’s vengeful then we have to be

careful. We don’t know what we’re summoning.”

“Wel , how about we just summon a nice friendly ghost,”

Madison said, prompting Abby to give her a contemptuous

stare.

“What, like Casper?”

Madison didn’t appreciate being mocked, but we al

knew Abby was right. “I guess not,” she conceded.

“Then it’s luck of the draw.”

I bit my tongue to refrain from commenting on Abby’s

foolproof plan. Conducting a seance on the one night of the

year when it was actual y likely to work was stupid in the

extreme. I shook my head and tried to banish my doubts. I

reminded myself this was nothing more than a childish

game; something most teenagers dabbled in for fun. The

sooner we got it over with, the sooner we could go

downstairs and enjoy the rest of the night.

Mol y and Savannah, who were sitting on either side of

me, each took hold of one of my hands and gripped them

tightly. Their palms were clammy and I sensed a

combination of fear and excitement. Abby bowed her head

and closed her eyes. Her blond hair flopped inconveniently

in front of her face and she interrupted her invocation to

tether it into a loose ponytail with the Day-Glo hair tie she

wore around her wrist. Then she cleared her throat

theatrical y, cast us al a meaningful look, and began to

speak in a low voice that sounded like a chant.

“Spirits that walk the earth, we invoke you to come

forward and dwel among us! We mean you no harm; we

only want to make a connection. Do not be afraid. If you

have a story to tel , we want to hear it. I repeat, we wil not

harm you; in return we ask that you do not harm us.”

The room swel ed with a deadly silence. The girls

exchanged uneasy glances. I knew that some were now

regretting expressing so much enthusiasm for Abby’s

project and wished they were downstairs drinking with their

friends and flirting with the boys. I gritted my teeth and

turned my thoughts away from the distasteful ceremony that

was taking place before me. I had enough sense to know

that disturbing the dead was not only unwise, but insensitive

too. It went against everything I’d been taught about life and

death. Hadn’t they ever heard of the expression
rest in

peace
? I wanted to pul my hands away and leave the room,

but I knew Abby would be furious and I’d be wearing the

label of
buzzkill
for the rest of the year. I sighed heavily,

hoping they would soon get bored when no response was

forthcoming and abandon the game. Mol y and I exchanged

dubious glances.

Five long minutes elapsed with only the sound of our

breathing and Abby periodical y repeating her incantation.

Just as the girls were beginning to get restless and

someone complained openly about a leg cramp, the crystal

glass began to wobble. Everyone sat bolt upright, each

girl’s attention ful y restored. The glass shook for a moment

longer and then began to teeter its way across the board,

spel ing out a message as it went. Abby, as self-appointed

medium, cal ed out each letter the glass touched until it had

spel ed out a clear message.

Stop. Stop now. Leave this place. You are all in

danger.

“Oooh, that sounds exciting,” Madison said mockingly.

The others looked at one another uncertainly, trying to

determine the person in the group who was behind the

prank. With everyone’s fingers on the glass, it was

impossible to tel who was moving it. I felt Mol y clutch my

hand tighter as another message began to be spel ed out.

Stop. Listen. Evil is here.

“Why should we believe you?” Abby asked boldly. “Do

we know you?”

The glass now seemed to move in giant swoops, entirely

of its own volition. It swam across the board and came to

rest defiantly on the word
YES
.

“Okay, now I know this is a joke,” said Madison. “Come

on, own up. Who’s doing it?” Abby ignored her protest.

“Shut up, Mad. No one’s doing it,” Hal ie snapped.

“You’re breaking the mood.”

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe …”

“If we know you, tel us your name,” Abby insisted.

For several long seconds the glass seemed to stal .

“Told you this is al a load of crap,” Madison began, but

no sooner had she spoken that the glass resumed its

dance around the board. At first it seemed confused,

lingering under some letters and then steering away

suddenly as if to tease us. It seemed uncertain to me, like a

young child, not entirely familiar with the process. It

careered across the board spel ing out
T-A-Y
. Then it

stopped as if it were unsure what to do.

“You can trust us,” Abby urged.

The glass slunk back to the middle of the board and

slowly looped across to spel out the final three letters,
L-A-

H
.

It was Mol y who broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Taylah?” she whispered in a voice that came out sounding

strangled. Then she furiously blinked back tears and glared

around the circle.

“Okay, this isn’t funny,” she hissed. “Who did it? What the

hel is wrong with you guys?”

Her accusation was met by a flurry of head shaking and

protests. “It wasn’t me,” they each said. “I didn’t do it.”

I felt a chil run down my spine. Deep down I knew none of

the girls would stoop so low as to bring their dead friend

into the game. Taylah’s death was stil fresh, no one would

dare joke about it. And that meant only one thing—Abby

had made a connection, broken the barrier. We were

treading on dangerous ground.

“What if it’s not a joke?” Savannah suggested tentatively.

“No one here would be that sick. What if it real y is her?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Abby said. “We have

to summon her and ask for a sign.”

“But she just told us to stop,” Mol y protested. “What if she

doesn’t want to be summoned?”

“Yeah, what if she was trying to warn us?” Hal ie shivered.

“You’re al so gul ible.” Madison rol ed her eyes. “Go

ahead and summon her, Abby, nothing’s going to happen.”

Abby leaned forward, bending low over the Ouija board.

“We command you,” she said, her voice deepening. “Come

forward and show yourself.”

Through the window, I saw a dark cloud drift across the

sky, obscuring the moon and completely blotting out the

silver light that had been fil ing the room. For a moment I felt

Taylah’s presence, radiating warmth as strong as the heat

in the hand I held. But just as suddenly she vanished,

leaving nothing but a cold space in the air.

“We command you,” Abby repeated with heightened

emotion. “Come forward!”

The windowpanes rattled as the wind started to howl

outside. The room suddenly felt very cold, and Mol y wound

her fingers so tightly around mine she was almost cutting off

my circulation.

“Come forward!” Abby commanded. “Show yourself!

At that moment the window flew open and a harsh wind

rushed into the room, snuffing out the candles in an instant.

Some of the girls squealed and gripped each other’s hands

more tightly. I felt the wind on the back of my neck, like cold,

dead fingers. I shuddered and hunched forward, trying to

protect myself from it. Savannah whimpered and I knew she

felt it too. These girls might be oblivious to most things, but

anyone could sense that there was now a presence in the

room and it was none too friendly.

I knew then I had to say something before it was too late.

“We have to stop this,” I cried. “It isn’t a game anymore.”

“You can’t leave now, Beth. You’l ruin everything.” Abby’s

eyes darted around the room. “Is someone here?” she

asked. “Give us a sign that you can hear me.”

I heard Hal ie gasp and looked down to see the glass

drifting silently across the Ouija board. It came to rest on

the word
YES.
Savannah’s hand in mine was now slippery

with sweat.

“Who’s doing that?” Mol y whispered.

“Why have you come?” Abby asked. “Do you have a

message for someone here?”

The glass spun in a circle across the board and

responded with the same message.
YES.

“Who is it for?” Abby asked. “Tel us who you’ve come to

see.”

The glass slid down until it found the letter
A.
Then it

loped graceful y from letter to letter as it began to spel out a

name. Abby looked confused as she put the name together

in her head.

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