Chapter Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
Wherever I was, I didn’t have a body anymore.
I was surrounded by white light and the faintest humming noise, as if I’d left the mortal world and been transported inside a fluorescent lightbulb. Except the light here was warm and inviting. It felt the way it did to close your eyes and turn your face toward the sun on a beautiful summer day.
It was just my mind and the light.
I would have liked to have my hands back, though.
Was I dead? Had Karma’s spell gone all wrong and killed me? I found that rather than being scared of that prospect, I was remarkably calm. No body, no problem. There was also nothing to focus on here, making me wonder if I had eyes. There was just brightness, the humming, and a soothing calm unlike anything I had ever known before.
“Hello, my sweet girl,” came a familiar voice.
Since I had no eyes and no body, I couldn’t look around, but I instinctively understood there was nothing to see, and I didn’t need sight to know who that voice belonged to. I’d recognize it anywhere.
“Auntie Eudora?”
I didn’t have a mouth, yet I knew she could hear me just like I could hear her without ears. It was an understanding. A warm glowing sensation washed over me, making me feel peaceful. Loved.
“Oh, Phoebe, it’s so good to see you.”
I wasn’t sure if she could see me, but I also didn’t know how any of this worked.
“Am I dead?”
She laughed. Though I couldn’t hear a laugh, I felt the lightness of the way Eudora’s high, bright laugh filled a room.
“No, no. This is a temporary space. You’re not really here. I’m not really here. I’m an imprint, just part of your memory to help make this easier for you.”
That made me sad. I had wanted this to be a moment of connection, of being together with someone I’d lost, and despite what she was saying, something in my heart told me she was real.
“Are you going to help me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“How do I fix this?”
“Fixing implies something is broken. You aren’t broken. You’re not a thing that needs to be fixed.”
“Tell that to the inanimate objects around me trying to make a bid to join the space program.”
“I see your sense of humor remains unchanged.” She sounded both amused and frustrated, which was a combination I was beginning to understand I made a lot of people around me experience.
“If you can’t laugh at yourself . . .”
“. . . someone else will do it for you,” she finished, as it was one of her most beloved turns of phrase. She’d use it to remind me not to feel too sorry for myself, because in life there’s only ever one person who is going to be by your side from start to finish, and that’s you.
“I wish you were here,” I told her.
“I wanted to tell you so many times, but we didn’t know. I thought you might have the gift, but then you moved away so young and I just couldn’t watch for the signs. I figured when nothing happened by the time you were an adult, it wasn’t going to happen. But still, I tried. I sent special teas; I made you jewelry and sent things that might boost your power, hoping one day you would tell me things were happening to you, but that day never came. I’m sorry it came when I couldn’t help you.”
“Me too.”
“I’ve left things behind. Things in the house that will help you.”
“I found the deeds.”
“Oh, those old things? Well, that’s good, but that’s not what I meant. You’ll know what I mean when you find it.”
Since I had no idea what she was talking about, I had to assume I hadn’t found it yet.
“How do we fix . . . er . . . how can I stop the accidental glitches? Karma said it’s something I would have figured out when I was young, so there has to be a solution.”
“You have almost thirty years of pent-up magic swirling around inside of you, wanting to get out. That’s why things keep going awry; that’s why you keep letting your magic control you rather than you controlling your magic.”
“Then what’s the solution?”
“I think I just made that clear.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Tone, Phoebe.”
“How can I have a tone if I don’t even have a voice?”
I didn’t need to see Eudora’s face to know the precise expression she would be making if we were physically together.
“You’re bottled up. Like a can of soda that’s been shaken and left to sit.”
It dawned on me then what she was suggesting. And while it was a logical solution, it also sounded like madness as I processed it.
“You have decades of pent-up magic inside you,” she goaded.
“I need to let it all out.”
“You need to let it all out.”
*
I was dragged back to the real world with a gasp and a popping sensation in my ears. I sat in the middle of the salt circle panting for breath, my hand still pressed to the crystal in front of me.
Karma and Honey were both staring at me with wide eyes. When I looked at the carpet, I realized all the salt had blown outward as if an explosion of air had sent it flying.
I blinked, shocked by how dim the light in here was compared to the liminal space I had just been in.
“What did you see?” Honey asked, unable to keep the curiosity out of her voice.
“I didn’t see anything.”
She exchanged a quick glance with her mother. “It didn’t work?”
Karma put a hand on Honey’s arm. “She didn’t say that, did she? Did you, sweetie?”
I shook my head. “I went somewhere, but it was . . . it was nothing, it was just light. And Eudora was there. I think it was her, anyway. It was her voice, inside my mind.”
Honey opened the mason jar of water and handed it to me. “Full-moon water. It’s safe, it’ll just recharge your energy.”
I hadn’t realized I was thirsty until she handed me the container, and once the sweet, clear water hit my tongue, I drank half the jar thirstily, only stopping to come up for air.
“What did your aunt say to you?” Karma asked.
“She told me how to get my power back under control.”
Karma and Honey exchanged another excited look, something that demonstrated an entire unspoken language between mother and daughter. Then they waited expectantly for me to speak again.
“That’s the thing . . . Apparently, I just need to find something that will let out about three decades of pent-up magical stress. No big deal, right?” I laughed, but it didn’t feel particularly funny.
As I drank the rest of the water from the jar, Honey helped me to my feet. “We’re on the right track, Phoebs, I promise. We’ll find just the thing that will help. The most logical thing would be a spell. A big one.”
“Do you have a spell in mind?”
“Well . . . no.”
Karma also shook her head. “There isn’t really a scale for which spells take more energy. I think we’re going to need to do some digging to find something for your level that might do the trick. But Honey is right, we’re getting somewhere. This is really positive.” She came over and gave me a big squeeze. “You did great. Now why don’t you go sit outside on that nice covered porch of yours and get some fresh air while Honey and I get things cleaned up in here.”
I glanced up to see that all the floating objects were still stuck in midair.
“I appreciate the offer, but this is my mess. I couldn’t ask you to clean it up.”
“Nonsense—you didn’t ask, I offered. And you weren’t the one who poured salt all over the rug, now, were you?”
I was too exhausted to fight an unstoppable force like Karma, so I listened to her suggestion, grabbing a throw blanket from the living room and heading outside into the cool night air.
The humidity that had clung to Raven Creek for the last several days had broken, and while it was still pouring rain with the distant sound of thunder rumbling in the background, it no longer felt like being wrapped in a hot, wet towel when I stepped outside the door.
I slung the thin throw blanket over my shoulders and took a seat on my porch swing, which I had added cushions to for the summer with the goal of sitting here to read regularly. I didn’t get much reading done, but I did like to sit out here and watch the birds at the feeders.
The door to the house hadn’t closed all the way behind me, and Bob came marching out. Rather than making a dash for freedom, he sniffed the air for a moment, warily eyed the falling rain, and decided his best course of action was to join me on the swing.
He jumped up and crawled into my lap, kneading my thigh with his powerful little paws. His nails kept snagging on the blanket, reminding me I needed to cut them soon, but he just took it as a sign he should lie down.
Soon he was curled into a ball, his paws covering his face, and purring loudly.
I felt calmer than I had in weeks.
I might not know exactly what spell would stop my magic from going haywire, but I at least knew my problem could be fixed.
That was a start.