Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

J essica’s stomach fluttered nervously as she walked down the street towards the address Cody had given her for Gladys. She’d asked for a phone number as well so she could make an appointment, but he’d just grinned at her.

“Not listed. Better just to show up.”

Not that she’d really needed the address she decided as she drew closer. The witch’s cottage was painted a striking purple, although it was practically hidden behind a lush garden overflowing with flowers, most of which should have already turned dormant.

Just as she reached the gate in the pretty picket fence, it swung open and a tall black man came rushing out, muttering to himself.

“Impossible female.” He suddenly noticed her and caught the gate, giving her an apologetic nod. “I’m sorry, my dear. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Now that she had a chance to look at him more closely, she realized he was a good bit older than her, his dark curls peppered with grey, but he was still remarkably handsome. More importantly, he had a kind face and she found herself smiling at him.

“No harm done. Is something wrong?”

He sighed.

“Only the same thing that’s been wrong for years. I keep hoping it will change but sometimes I feel like Sisyphus, rolling the same boulder up the hill over and over.”

She could see the sorrow in his eyes despite the humor in his voice and impulsively put a sympathetic hand on his arm, then immediately reeled back. Damn. She was usually more careful about making sure her shields were up before touching people. He started to reach out to steady her, then stopped.

“What did you see?” he asked quietly, and she shot him a surprised look.

“What makes you think I saw something?”

His eyes twinkled.

“I am not without some small powers myself. Do you see the future or the past?”

“There have been times when I have seen both—and other times when I have seen nothing.” Her psychic powers had always been more erratic than her ability to communicate with the departed.

“That is often the way,” he agreed, watching her face. “Perhaps we could discuss it over tea?”

“Thank you, but I was on my way to see Gladys.” She hesitated, then added, “Do you know her?”

“Intimately,” he said dryly, then hesitated. “I am not a fan of looking into the future, but do you have any words of advice based on what you saw?”

“I’m afraid not. It was just a flash of you. And a woman in purple.”

“Was it Gladys?” he asked eagerly and she reluctantly shook her head.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Ah well. I will retreat and return to push the boulder up the hill another day. It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear, and the offer of tea is always open.”

“Thank you. I hope the boulder rolls more easily in the future.”

He bowed his head and strolled away, moving with the ease of a much younger man despite the crystal-topped cane he carried in one hand.

“Are you coming in or not?” a voice demanded from behind her.

She turned to find Gladys standing in the doorway of the cottage, her arms folded over her ample chest. Gladys was a plump, attractive older woman with silver curls and unusually penetrating blue eyes. When Jessica had seen her in the past she’d generally been smiling, but she definitely wasn’t smiling now.

“I’m coming in. If that’s all right with you?” she asked hesitantly.

Gladys sniffed, then turned and marched into the cottage but since she’d left the door open, Jessica decided to follow her. The front room of the house was exactly what she would have envisioned from the outside—bundles of dried plants hung from the ceiling beams; crooked wooden shelves lined the walls, covered with an astonishing variety of objects; and there was even a cauldron suspended over a fire in the fireplace.

“Back here,” Gladys snapped, and Jessica followed the sound of her voice through a doorway, then blinked in surprise.

She’d entered a remarkably contemporary kitchen with sleek white cabinets and pristine white countertops. The only things marring the clean lines were the colorful tea set Gladys was arranging on a tray and the vines that flowed from the shelves around the window to the top of the cabinets.

“In or out?” Gladys asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Out,” the other woman announced and picked up the tray, carrying it through the kitchen door and into a small, enclosed courtyard, also lush with flowers. She plunked the tray down on a metal bistro table, then poured them each a mug of something that smelled delicious.

Jessica took the mug obediently, then sat quietly as Gladys took a few moody swigs of her own mug before finally sighing.

“Sorry. You caught me at a bad time.”

“I’m sorry. Should I come back?”

“No, I might as well get this over with. Flora told me you were coming. Said you have some foolish idea of resurrecting a ghost.”

Gladys peered at her over her glasses and Jessica raised her chin.

“That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“And I suppose you know how to do that?” the other woman asked dryly.

“Well, no. I was hoping you could help me, but if you’d rather not I’ll find someone else.”

She started to rise but Gladys laughed.

“Oh sit down, child. No need to take offense.”

She took her seat again and sipped the tea. It was hot and spicy, and left a pleasant burn as it slid down her throat.

“What kind of tea is this?”

“Eye of newt,” Gladys said blandly, then laughed again. “You should see your face. It’s a combination of things from my garden with some additional cinnamon. Plus some fire whiskey to give it a little kick.”

“It’s very good.”

Gladys gave an almost reluctant nod of approval, and topped off her mug. The liquid was still steaming despite the cool air, but perhaps the fire whiskey was responsible for that as well. They sipped in silence as the autumn sunlight warmed the small courtyard. The scent of flowers filled the air, mingling with the spicy scent of the tea, and a bird trilled from a nearby tree. An unexpected sense of peace settled over Jessica, the tension of the last few days easing, and she was smiling when she finally put down her mug.

“Thank you.”

Gladys’s eyes twinkled.

“You needed a moment of calm, child. Now, let’s talk about your ghost. Are you both sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” she said firmly, and Gladys hummed thoughtfully.

“You do understand that if he were to become corporeal, there would be nothing binding him to this place? He would be free to leave.”

And she would be alone again. The old fear raised its head, but she did her best to push it aside.

“I don’t believe that would happen, but at least he would be f-free.” And I would be happy for him.

“Very well. Wait here.”

Gladys disappeared inside the cottage but the peaceful courtyard was no longer sufficient to calm Jessica’s nerves. She forced herself to remain patiently at the table until the older woman reappeared, carrying a worn leather book.

“The Grimoire of the Veil,” she announced, placing it carefully on the table. “I believe it holds the answer to your… unique situation.”

Gladys flipped rapidly through the yellowed pages before stopping at one with a complicated design etched in a brown ink that looked suspiciously like faded blood. Jessica bit her lip but remained silent as Gladys leaned over the page and ran her finger over the words.

“This is the one. The ritual will need to be performed at midnight on All Hallow’s Eve, using this diagram. I’ll make a copy of it for you and give you this list of ingredients.” The older woman peered at her over the top of her glasses. “You have performed similar rituals in the past?”

“Yes, although I’m usually helping spirits on their way, not trying to get them to stay.”

“Then you understand that everything must be done precisely as instructed? Any mistake could have devastating consequences.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

“There’s one more thing,” Gladys added. “The ritual will require a sacrifice.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her excitement faltering.

“A sacrifice?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing comes without a price, child. To bring a spirit into our realm, something of equal value must be given up.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” she insisted, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest.

“You need to understand that a sacrifice doesn’t always mean something physical. It could be an emotional offering, something deeply personal.”

A shiver ran down her spine. What she might have to give up. The comfort of her independence? Or perhaps something even more profound? Her powers?

For a moment, doubt crept in, whispering insidiously in her ear. What if the sacrifice was too much? What if she wasn’t strong enough? But then Leo’s face appeared in her mind’s eye. His gentle smile, the warmth in his eyes, the way he made her feel safe and understood. He was worth whatever price she would have to pay.

“I understand.”

Gladys studied her face for a moment, then nodded.

“Very well. Then let us begin.”