Picking up a small object that reminded me of a chess piece, I scrutinized it from all angles in the light of a candle. I sent a little power to strengthen the candle’s flame to see by and found an inscription on the circular bottom of the item.
“I think I know what this is,” I uttered, rustling through the other items on top of the table until I found what I wanted.
Holding onto the end of the colored stick, I thrust the other side into the flame of the candle until it glistened and melted. I let the thick substance drip onto one of the papers until it formed a small blob. Placing the other object on top, I pressed it into the melted wax until it left an indentation.
“Granny, look at this,” I called out, staring at the mark.
“This room definitely belonged to a female. And the clothing I could find is not from any century I’m familiar with,” she said when she joined me.
I held up the wax seal. “Do you see the letter at the center of the flower?”
She squinted through her ghost glasses. “Not really.”
Tracing the outlines in the wax, I showed her my discovery. “That’s an I. I’m pretty sure that stands for Isabella.”
The second I uttered the name, the faint sound of a woman crying echoed around the chamber. My great-grandmother and I turned in all directions to follow it, and the flames of all the candles in the room elongated and flickered larger. I noticed Granny Jo’s figure became brighter and more solid in her agitation rather than her usual fading in and out.
“Grits and ghosts, indeed,” I muttered, watching the candlelight return to normal. “I wonder if she’s still here. Maybe that’s why you can materialize in this room. Because there’s already someone haunting it.”
I’d only told my family a little about Luke’s sister, not wanting to betray too much of my fiancé’s private business. But Granny understood enough about young love and tragic death from her experience in the world plus her secret love for romance novels.
“We ghosts stick around for lots of reasons,” Granny Jo said in a quiet voice, “but if anybody deserves to haunt this place, Luke’s sister had plenty of things to hold her here.”
“Do you think you could talk to Isabella?” I asked, curious if my great-grandmother’s ways of dealing with the dearly departed in our family home would work here.
Granny Jo floated toward the middle of the room. “Won’t know the answer unless I try. What was her full name?”
I shuffled through some of the paper on top of the desk but didn’t find anything with her name on it. “I know Luke has a long name, but I’ve only heard her called Isabella. Isabella de Rossi.”
My ghostly great-grandmother closed her eyes and held out her hands, hovering over the stone floor. She repeated the sister’s name a few times, calling to her. “Isabella, if you’re here, come talk to us.”
A cool breeze picked up in the room and whirled around us with growing energy, the scent of flowers growing stronger. A voice rode the wind, but I couldn’t understand the words.
“We just want to talk, Isabella,” I added, turning my head to keep my hair out of my face.
The voice grew a little louder, and I battled between excitement and dread as the air thickened with a strange presence.
“I’m in love with your brother. With Luca,” I cried out, wanting her to try to connect with me.
The faint voice repeated her brother’s name. “Luca,” it said in a mix between a whisper and a low moan.
Granny floated closer, hovering between me and the presence we both felt in the room. “I don’t know about this. Something doesn’t feel quite right.”
“Lu-u-u-u-c-a,” Isabella’s spirit dragged out in a grating tone that raised the hairs on my arms.
The air shimmered in front of us, and a ball of glowing energy grew out of nowhere. The wind picked up, scattering papers around the room. Instead of being blown out, the flames on the candles ignited into high blazes.
“She’s going to destroy the room with us in it!” Granny yelled. “Do something.”
I reached out with my magic to control the candles, but they burned even higher instead of extinguishing. Whatever we had summoned here had been waiting for a long time to manifest, and its power had more energy than I could contain by myself.
“Look!” Granny Jo pointed at something scampering close to the glowing ball.
The little mouse from before scurried into the middle of the vortex. One minute, I debated trying to save its little furry butt and the next, I watched as its entire being changed in size and morphed into a brown-haired woman.
She raised her hands in the air and shouted commands I couldn’t understand. The voice on the wind changed into a pained shriek, and the glow disappeared in ghostly flames that consumed it.
When I turned to say something to my great-grandmother, I no longer saw her next to me. A quick touch to the token reassured me of her presence.
“Who are you?” I asked the woman who bore no resemblance to a mouse in size or actions.
Satisfied that the presence of Isabella de Rossi was gone, she gave me her full attention. “We have no time for explanations. If you are who I think you are, then we must get you back to your room with much haste. Follow me.”
Instead of leaving through the door, she walked over to a bare spot on the wall and raised her hand in front of it. Much like when Luke
