“I don’t know,” I say. “I just feel it, in here.” I tap my heart.
“Bloodline magick,” James says. “It courses through every fiber of your body and soul.”
I close my eyes and allow my mind to fill with the whispers of words. I write each one as it comes to me.
“You’re good at this,” Jeanna says. I ignore her and keep transcribing.
When the request is complete, I write it down three more times and hand a copy to each person sitting around the table.
“I recommend we hold hands,” I say. “thus combining and amplifying our energy.” Luna and James study the magickal words scribbled on their individual slips. “We’ll read the spell in unison. Work in harmony,” I continue. “Let the energy and request grow. Then see where it goes.”
“I’m in.” James slams his palm, and the paper, to the table. Jeanna and Luna chime, “Me too.”
We clasp hands. Take deep breaths and center our thoughts. Our intentions. The group waits on my lead, and I don’t dare rush. I want to get this right. I breathe in and out and in and out, focusing on the simple action. The rest of the group does the same. I clear my mind, see only a muddled darkness and the mirror lying up on the table.
Time passes like the gentlest of waves on the ocean, slight and with hardly a disruption. When my heart and mind are calm, focused on my mom, I call to the elements, speak the request for a peek into the past.
The group joins me, and our words find harmony, cohesion. Soon, no one is reading from their slips of paper, but speaking the words from memory and from their beings. We repeat the request time and time again.
The mirror fuzzies and sharpens, plays mini movies of things that once were. Memories scatter throughout time. Events from last week, and things from long before my mom started seeing Caleb. The mirror is old, and so the glimpses shared span an unexpected length of time.
James drops his hold of Jeanna and Luna’s hands. “It could take forever searching this way.”
I sigh. Drop my hands to the table. He isn’t wrong. We could end up wading through a lifetime of events, or more. “let me refine the spell.” Taking pencil to paper, I rework and expand the request. When done, I add my finishing touches to the other three slips of paper so that we’re all aligned.
Outside, a car engine pulls to a stop. I glance at the wall clock. Like rain falling from the sky, time has slipped through our gathering and fallen into the past. The noise outside, the ride likely come to take Luna and me home.
The doorbell announces Miri’s early arrival. James sprints across the room and opens the door with a smile and pleasant greeting. I’m three feet at his back, having moved to intercept my sister.
“We’re not ready to go, quite yet.” I glance from Miri to the kitchen table behind me, back to Miri. “We’re still bouncing around a few thoughts.”
“How much longer?” Miri moves into the front room and discards her jacket.
“Er” I turn my attention to James. He shrugs. Turning to Jeanna and Luna, I receive the same reaction. “Fifteen minutes, maybe?”
“Fine.” Miri plops onto the sofa and holds up the television remote. “Do you mind?” she asks James.
“Help yourself,” he says and we both return to the kitchen, leaving Miri to channel surf.
James, Jeanna, Luna, and I fall into our places around the table and the mirror placed within the center. We clasp hands and, once more, drop into a quiet chant, calling forth the memories of the past. This time, with a refinement to pinpoint our desired glimpse.
“Earth, wind, water, and fire. Blessed be, and thanks to thee. Help us now and hear our plea. Bend of light and trick of eye, grant us views of what once transpired. Show us the moment in which Edith Roussard was acquired.”
We chant the same phrase over and over, never ceasing. The mirror fogs, a mixture of dreary and bright, then clears with images from the past. An empty room. The bedroom at the French-Quarter house. A frustrated version of my mom enters, tosses her handbag to the bed. The thump of a closing door and Caleb appears at her back, wrapping my mother within his entangled embrace.
Our voices lower, but our chant continues in order to keep our connection to the past active.
“The start of anything new is paved with difficulties,” he says, lowering his head into the nape of her neck. “But, if you trust me, are willing to entrust your future, your vibrant life within my care, I will see that we achieve that perfection you so desire.”
“Of course, I trust you.” Mom wraps her hands over his and leans her head into him.
“Do you entrust your life into my care?” He kisses her neck.
I want to gag. Look away, but I remain focused on the task. Pinpoint the moment Caleb gained access to my mom’s inner controls.
“I do,” she says.
“Say it.” His demand is soft and sugarcoated with physical affection. She spins within his encircled arms. Drapes her arms over his shoulders. “I want to hear you say it.” He kisses her cheek, her forehead, her lips.
“I entrust my life into your care,” she whispers.
Our chanting stops. I raise my gaze from the mirror and glance around my circle of friends. “That’s the moment,” I say. “That’s the moment she handed Caleb control.”
“What are you doing?”
My entire body jolts.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Miri’s voice is close at my back, loud, and fueled with a plethora of emotions. Everyone at the table shifts, and stares at her.
“That was Caleb. Caleb and Mom.” She jabs a pointed finger at the mirror.
“Yeah.” My hand swings outward as if to say obvious. “He’s the one currently controlling her, right?”
Miri nods.
“Well, Luna and I recently found out that, in order for Caleb
