Six #4
“Yes, but your mother died in childbirth, which is horribly sad, but not unnatural.” I took hold of Evan’s hand when he reached for me. “How did your father die?”
“In a car accident,” Evan said.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. That’s what I was—” He looked at Cole. “That’s what you told me.”
“Because that’s what I was told.” Cole spoke to his brother, but he was staring at his uncle. “You went and saw him in the morgue, and that’s what they said, right?”
“Yes, it was,” Abel said, frowning as he turned to me. “But you’re saying that…that something else happened to Anson, if those bones are his?”
“I don’t know. What I am saying is that whoever those bones end up belonging to, they were killed, or as Evan says, murdered, and that is clearly not natural. The ghost needed Cole to know that, and now he does.”
Evan heaved out a breath. “Why would my father ever try to hurt me like—”
“Again, the ghost would not have had any idea that it was hurting you at all.” I tried to soothe him. “That would never have been part of what it was trying to do. Communication was its only intention. Remember that.”
“Okay.” Evan exhaled sharply.
“And we don’t know that those bones belonged to your father,” Abel said curtly.
“But if they do,” Evan said, his focus on me, “he just wanted to speak to us.”
“That’s right. And also, ghosts aren’t how they are in the movies or on TV.
They are not the people they were, so even if those bones end up belonging to your father, the ghost tied to them is not him in any way that would allow the Anson Swann you knew to recognize you, or you him.
Ghosts hang around because they can’t move on.
Something is anchoring them to this plane—some injustice, some grievance, something that needs to be put right, something that was lost…
But the only part that stays behind is the piece that’s angry and in pain.
Your father’s soul, the part of him that he loved you with, loved your brother with, loved your mother with…
that moved on to whatever he was supposed to do next. ”
Evan sighed deeply, and his eyes welled with tears. “So he’s not really here.”
“No, he’s not. Only what needed to be conveyed to you and your brother remained.”
“And is the ghost gone now too?”
“Yes. I released it because it communicated to me what it needed to, so it could peacefully move on.”
“It didn’t need to stick around to make sure you followed through?”
“No. It knew I would.”
“How?”
“Because I’m trustworthy,” I replied simply.
His smile then, even through his tears, was bright. “But really, how did it know?”
“I’ve had experience communicating with them, so they know I’m sincere.”
Evan shook his head.
“No? You don’t believe me?”
“I do. I just think it’s more.”
“Meaning what?”
“I think you’re magic.”
“I promise you, I’m really not.”
The skeptical look I got in response told me he didn’t believe me at all.
“You have another question, I can tell,” I said.
“The thing that happened to me, the possession, can that ever happen again?”
“No, it can’t.”
“But what if—”
“Those patches of magic are honestly very rare. I doubt you’ll see another in your lifetime unless you end up spending a lot of time with Teague.”
He gasped excitedly. “Teague? Teague can see magic patches?”
“He certainly can. And I promise you, if he’d been there with you, he wouldn’t have let you get anywhere near that area.”
“Because he actually is magic, right, Merritt?”
I shrugged. “Would we say magic or just, you know, quirky?”
Evan laughed then, and it was a really good sound. Cole took hold of my left hand, squeezing tight so I turned and looked at him.
“We all want to hear how you know all this and what was with those glowing eyes of yours, and how, in fact, you communicate with ghosts.”
“Well, first, when we get back,” Abel said, “don’t you need to seal that patch up so nothing else can happen there?”
I scoffed. “No. Whatever residual magic was there is gone now. It was triggered the other night by the blood I spilled. Think of it like a candle—it’s extinguished.”
“You’re sure?” Justin asked me. “Perhaps there’s someone else who might know?”
“I’m certain there is,” I told him. “You could ask around. Do you know any witches?”
“My mother does.” He turned to Narah.
“They’re more herbalists and healers than actual magic users,” she told him.
“Well then, I just want to know, Merritt, if another spot of magic was found, is there no way to harness something like that?” Justin asked.
His father smiled at him. “I was going to ask the same question myself.”
“No,” I said quickly. “You have to remember that it was left over from what was intended by a being far more powerful than you—if you even believe that. But either way, it would be almost impossible to control a remnant like that.”
He didn’t look convinced, which was a concern. What was it about power that so many people wanted? He should have been far more concerned about the bones and the ghost; basically his family, who he was supposed to love. What was power when weighed against that?
I got more questions, like how did the residual magic know to call those specific bones to the land, and because apparently Evan was the only one who listened to me, I let him answer.