Chapter 31
After dinner, Mom hugs us all goodbye and makes us promise not to stay up too late watching movies.
Then she drives off toward Providence.
When we meet up back at my house, my friends seem nervous. Taylor and Nadya cling to each other as we gather the rest of the séance materials in the living room. Theo keeps taking inventory of the candles like he can’t remember what number comes after five, and Matt and Arden jump at every noise.
My eyes won’t stop scanning the walls for shadows like the one in the den, or the bigger one that I’m still convinced I saw swallowing Arden when they were possessed.
It feels like no one wants the responsibility of initiating this séance.
I cut my gaze to Theo, then clear my throat. He’s the one who started all this ghost business. He should also be the one leading us to its end.
He nods as if he understands what I’m thinking.
“Are we ready to do this?” he asks.
No one answers.
He chuckles. For whatever reason, our apprehension seems to bolster his confidence.
“I know it’s scary. But isn’t it kind of awesome too?
” A grin overtakes his face. “I’ve been insisting for years that ghosts are real, and no one believed me.
Matt and I have been trying to prove that something weird is going on in this town forever.
We’re finally going to get confirmation. ”
Out of the corner of my vision, I see Matt stand up a little straighter. Like he’s letting go of some of his fear. Or remembering why we’re here and what we’re doing.
Theo pockets a flashlight and collects some candles in his hands. “We did the research,” he goes on. “We’re ready. Let’s get Amity her house back and set Mercy free.”
As he talks, he offers us each things to bring upstairs. More candles. Water. Extra matches. A fire extinguisher (because Theo is nothing if not responsible).
“Time to bust some ghosts.” I smirk playfully at him and wait to be reminded that Ghostbusters is fiction, but he simply smiles back.
Right—time to get serious.
As we tromp upstairs, the energy surrounding us lightens. Arden, Taylor, and Nadya joke around. Matt and Theo review the specifics of the séance with the intensity of college football coaches choosing the game-winning play.
I grip Theo’s hand as I listen to my heart patter in my chest. There are so many feelings swirling inside me that I can’t quite grasp any of them.
What if nothing happens? What will that mean for me and my mom and our life here?
Or what if something does happen and we’re not prepared for Mercy? What if she’s strong enough this time to possess someone and hold on? What if we get hurt? Or worse?
And yet beneath all that panic flutters excitement. Because what if we are able to summon Mercy and unbind her from our house? For what feels like the hundredth time since we moved here, my world would get flipped upside down. And the source of that chaos would once again be Theo Hargrave.
The appeal of that is enough to make me dizzy. I would be happy to let that boy upend my world forever.
At the top of the stairs, a hush falls over us.
The house is quieter than it was when Mom and I first moved in. Up here, there’s no hum of appliances or the clacking of tree branches. The floors don’t creak, and the constant whoosh of the HVAC vents is absent.
It’s like a vacuum. Or a ghost, holding its breath as it prepares to scream.
A chill dances up my spine through my sweater.
When we enter the big bedroom, it’s aglow with the light of the candles, shadows dancing across the walls in time with the waving flames.
The air is thick with the scents of the eucalyptus and mint leaves we crushed up and mixed with coarse salt, then spread across the windowsills.
In the center of the room, three cookie trays balance on one of the large ottomans Arden and I thrifted.
We sit around it in a circle, Taylor to my right, Nadya on her other side, then Matt, then Arden.
After he positions three candles at the centers of the trays and hands some matches off to Matt, Theo settles on the floor between Arden and me.
He takes my hand and shelters my fingers in his palms.
“Where’s your phone?” I whisper. If there was ever a time to record, this seems like it would be it.
“Downstairs.” He shrugs. “Why?”
“Shouldn’t you be filming every second of this? For your channel. And for proof that you were right about the ghosts.”
His green eyes hold my gaze. “I don’t know. I think having you believe is enough for me.”
“Oh.” My face feels like the candles we’ve lit around the house. I burrow my forehead into his shoulder. Somehow, those words feel more meaningful than everything else he’s said to me.
“It’s time.” Matt angles his smartwatch at each of us so we can see it is 11:45. Then he rises up on his knees and strikes the first match.
“Wait.” I glance around. “Are you sure we don’t need to like say a prayer or something?” The idea of just diving in feels wrong.
“I think God frowns on fraternizing with ghosts,” Matt notes.
I roll my eyes. “Not a religious prayer. An intention or something.” I feel like the people I see online messing with this stuff are always talking about stating intentions or actualizing or something like that.
“ ‘Dear Mercy, we don’t want to hurt you, so please don’t murder us. ’ Along those lines.”
Theo gives my hand a little tug to get my attention. “Amity, we have this. I promise.”
With a sigh, I wave Matt to continue. Time to get this over with before the anticipation makes my head explode.
Matt strikes a second match and lights the candles. “Everyone take hands,” he instructs us. “Then close your eyes and repeat after me.”
He pauses to give us a second to process. I watch as everyone else’s eyelids flutter shut.
Mine won’t seem to budge. Every time I close them, they immediately pop back open. I need to see what’s going on. Otherwise, how do I protect myself?
Matt stares at me. I feel like the kid caught cheating on a test by the teacher.
“Fine,” I sigh, and squeeze my eyes closed.
Finally, he begins his chant. “Come speak with us, spirit. You’re welcome here.” His voice is low and calm, almost like he’s praying.
As one voice, we echo him.
“Tell us your truth.”
We say the same.
Then the room falls silent.
I can hear the faint crackling of the candles’ flames, and everyone’s shallow breaths. Taylor’s palm is clammy against my skin, and I can’t help but squeeze her hand and Theo’s.
I don’t know how long we wait quietly before I sneak open my eyes. I break out into a laugh when I realize everyone else is doing the same.
“Does anyone feel ridiculous?” I mutter.
Around me, my friends slowly raise their hands, and there’s a chorus of awkward chuckles.
Imagine what we must look like, positioned in a circle around an old ottoman with our eyes closed, in a room that’s basically the official definition of a fire hazard, welcoming a ghost to speak. This is the exact kind of thing I would have mocked someone mercilessly for a month ago.
“Maybe we missed a step?” Arden pulls out their phone to double-check.
“Or we’re not concentrating enough?” Matt offers.
It’s hard to believe that this is what Loretta had warned us so seriously about. There doesn’t seem to be anything dangerous except the candles and the wounds to our egos.
“Let’s try one more time,” Theo suggests.
I reach out for Taylor’s hand again. Theo never let mine go. It’s so much easier to close my eyes this time.
“Everyone, really empty your minds,” Matt orders. “If we aren’t open to it, Mercy won’t cross over.”
“Come speak with us, spirit. You’re welcome here.”
I swear our voices seem more unified this time when we repeat his words.
A breeze snakes along my neck and plays through my hair. We’re far from the windows, so I have no idea where it’s coming from.
“Tell us your truth.”
The urge to open my eyes overwhelms me as I finish the second line.
I pop them wide just in time to see each of the candles on the ottoman snuff out.
I swear under my breath.
The smell of smoke fills the air. The room is dimmer now, causing the shadows on the walls to stretch and grow.
Everyone else still has their eyes shut, so I’m the only one to witness it when Arden’s body jerks and then stiffens. The movement is too familiar.
My heart screams in my chest. It’s happening again.
“There isn’t much time,” they say. Only it’s not their voice. It’s higher pitched and frantic. “You’ve got to stop it.”
Matt mutters, “Oh shit,” and Taylor and Nadya both yelp. Everyone’s alert now and gaping at Arden. My pulse is racing fast enough to make my stomach lurch.
Theo clutches my hand, then leans forward, as if drawn by a magnet. “Mercy?” he says softly. His face is slack and filled with awe.
“We should never have tried to use that book.”
“You and Harmony?” I ask.
Whatever is inside of Arden doesn’t seem to hear us. Mercy’s ghost, her echo, whatever this is, keeps talking. As if, once she has started her story, she can’t stop.
“Sometimes the spells worked exactly like we wanted them to. But most of the time, they went bad. She wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to stop her.”
“Do you mean Harmony?” From what I saw in Mercy’s diaries, it seemed like Mercy was the one obsessed with using the book.
“She kept saying she had to save them.”
Theo looks ready to spring at Arden. “Save who?”
I clasp his hand tighter to anchor him to me. We don’t know what will happen if we break the circle. We can’t risk harming them.
The voice goes on. “Something went wrong. It was supposed to be a protection spell. She mispronounced part of it, or we didn’t have the right ingredients.
I don’t know. When she tossed the fungus root in the fire, it blew out with such intensity that it knocked her back against the well.
She hit her head. She stopped moving. There was blood everywhere. ”
Arden’s body shifts. The movement is robotic, out of sync. “My parents had warned me to stay away from the devil’s work. Kids told stories about what happens when magic touches a soul.”
Mercy’s diary barely mentioned her parents. Certainly nothing about them warning her about the devil. It was Harmony’s parents that had seemed superstitious.
I glance at Theo. His face is so stricken I can’t tell if he’s putting any of this together.
By this point, we’ve stopped trying to have a conversation with the spirit.
It’s clear that it is compelled to tell its story without interruption: “What if she came back? What if she came back wrong? She might return to Harlow’s Rest. What if she tried to take vengeance on me?
On my family? I couldn’t risk it. I ripped out a clump of her hair, and used a jagged rock to remove a finger and pry out one of her teeth.
I was crying the whole time.” The spirit’s voice quakes like they could be crying too, even though Arden’s face is dry and expressionless.
“Then I dumped her body in the well. I thought it would be best if her family believed she ran away.”
Mercy’s body was never found…
“Her family had been sick, and she’d told me they were convalescing together in the common area on the first floor.
So that night, I scaled the trellis by her bedroom window.
I tied the three pieces of her together with string, then snuck the bundle in the little hole behind her self-portrait where she always hid her favorite sweet treats from her brother.
Then I performed what I hoped would be my last bit of magic.
A binding spell to keep her soul locked in the house.
But I was just as careless. I, too, was no real witch.
Instead of only binding her here, I bound my own soul as well. ”
Around the ottoman, I see four pairs of wide, terrified eyes. Everyone’s still gripping hands, but Nadya and Taylor look seconds from bolting. I wonder if we could let go if we tried. My whole body feels compelled to stay still. To listen. To witness.
“Please.” Arden’s voice becomes unnaturally loud. Like a mic turned up to full volume. I want to clap my hands over my ears. “Burn the anchor. Break the spell. Set her free.”
It’s like those words knot together the ends of all the strings I’m holding. This is not the spirit that tried to maim Jesse and throw me from the porch and destroy my dolls. This is something else.
My head snaps toward Theo. “That’s not—”
Before I can finish my thought, a powerful force tears through the room, breaking our circle and throwing us back against the walls.