CHAPTER FOURTEEN #3
Each woman sat an equal distance from one another, and it was clear Brie should sit between Tabby and Claire.
She handed Tabby the shoes. Aidan’s plaid was before Tabby’s crossed legs and she set the shoes beside it.
Brie sank down and met Allie’s excited gaze.
“If Sam were here, it would almost be like old times,” Allie said, but then she leaned over to take Claire’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re one of us now.”
Claire smiled, but didn’t seem as excited. Brie had already decided Claire had a serious nature, which was fine by her. Not everyone could be eternally optimistic and endlessly exuberant like Allie.
Tabby had the Book before her, and she opened it and ran her hand over the adjoining pages. Brie whispered, “It used to take you days to find a spell.”
Tabby smiled at her. “My guides are very strong now.” She murmured a supplication to the gods for guidance in Gaelic, which Brie was pleased to recognize. Some things could not and would not ever change, and that included the bond between them.
Without having to be told, they reached for each other’s hands. Brie thought about the power each woman had brought to the room, and as she did so, Tabby began murmuring her spell. Brie felt the air shift and lift and swell with the power of the Rose women.
She looked at Allie, who was not a Rose, although Brie would bet anything she had holy DNA somewhere in her family tree.
How else could she be such a powerful healer?
Yet she was sitting there in medieval times in skinny jeans, a leather jacket and Jimmy Choos.
And Claire was the daughter of a Master.
Just then, she looked like a well-to-do, suburban trophy wife, never mind the long tunic she wore over her modern clothes.
But Tabby looked like a medieval sorceress in her long, velvet gown, her gold girdle and headdress.
Her murmurs increased, becoming louder and urgent, and she spoke more swiftly.
Brie saw that her eyes were closed and she had gone into a trance, as she had hundreds of times before.
Claire’s eyes were closed, too. Brie glanced at Allie and they shared a silent look.
Brie could almost hear Allie’s enthusiastic thoughts. We’ll do this!
“He’s coming,” Tabby said suddenly, and she opened her eyes.
Brie saw that Tabby was still in a trance. She sat stiffly, her complexion was waxy and her eyes glowed. Brie glanced at the door and everyone else did, too, except for Tabby, who sat as still as a statue, staring directly ahead.
Then Brie turned and looked across the room, toward the north wall. Ian was standing there. She managed not to cry out in excitement.
He started to speak and she heard him, as clear as day. But he was speaking Gaelic!
“He wants to speak to Aidan,” Tabby said softly, her gaze trained on the little boy.
Allie said, “Should we get Aidan?”
Tabby shook her head. “Please don’t move. He is upset and he might leave us.”
Brie couldn’t stop herself. “Ian, can you speak in English?” she asked, her heart thundering.
He looked at her and began speaking in a rush. “Where is my father? I want to come home!” he cried desperately.
For an instant, Brie froze. Heartbroken, she looked at Tabby, but Tabby remained in her trance. She looked desperately at Allie. What are we going to do? He can’t come home!
Allie shook her head, telling her not to do anything.
Tabby, still in a trance, said, “Do you have a message for your father?”
“Tell him to come and get me! I’m in New York,” Ian cried.
His little soul was in New York? What did that mean? Tears fell. Brie would have wiped them, but she was clutching Tabby’s and Claire’s hands and she was afraid to let go.
“Let me set you free, Ian,” Tabby murmured. She began chanting softly again, words Brie didn’t completely understand. But she was invoking the great Kaitha, the goddess of mercy, healing and death.
Ian began shaking his head mutinously. “I want Papa! I want to come home. Tell him to rescue me.” He was angry and annoyed now. He reminded her so much of his father.
Ian didn’t know that he was dead and he thought he could come home. Brie fought not to cry.
Tabby kept murmuring.
Ian began to fade.
Brie couldn’t stand it. “Ian, you have a new home now, a wonderful place filled with warmth and light where the gods live, where all your ancestors are!”
He was the barest apparition, and his next words were really hard to hear. Brie was certain she had misheard them. “I’m not dead.” And he was gone.
Brie cried out, and looked at Allie and Claire. “What did he just say?”
“He said he wasn’t dead,” Claire said. “Unless he said, ‘I’m dead.’”
“I thought he said he wasn’t dead, too,” Allie gasped, her brown eyes huge.
Tabby said softly, “He is alive.”
Brie saw the color returning to Tabby’s waxen face. The odd glow left her eyes and Tabby blinked as her body relaxed. Then her golden eyes widened. “We did it!”
Brie released Claire’s and Tabby’s hands, standing. “You just said Ian is alive.”
Everyone got up, Tabby looking surprised and standing more slowly. “I did?”
“You don’t remember?” Brie cried.
“Brie, I was in a deep trance. I only know that Ian was here. What happened?” She glanced at everyone.
“He seems to think he’s still alive,” Allie said. “And you just confirmed it.”
Tabby was stunned.
Brie confronted her, shaken to the core of her being—the depths of her soul.
“I’ve seen you in trances hundreds of times.
Sometimes your spells work, sometimes nothing happens or sometimes the opposite happens.
Sometimes your guides give you great advice, and sometimes they have sent us into traps and we’ve barely avoided death! ”
Allie interjected, “That was then and this is now. Tabby is really powerful, Brie.”
Brie whirled, aware she was becoming hysterical. “So she’s always right? Her spells always work and her guides never screw up?”
Tabby touched her. “I know you’re upset.”
“Upset?” she cried. “Upset doesn’t even come close!”
“I’m usually right,” Tabby whispered. But she was stricken, and Brie knew she was afraid that this time she was wrong.
“How could he be alive? I mean, do the math,” Brie cried.
Claire said, “He should be seventy-five years old, not nine.”
They all exchanged confused glances.
Brie moaned. “What am I going to tell Aidan? Am I going to tell him we had a séance, we spoke with Ian and that maybe his son is alive and wants to come home? No, wait! I’ll tell him we think he’s alive but we’re not sure.” She started to cry.
“Ghosts often think they’re alive,” Tabby finally said tersely.
“Your guides said he’s alive!” Brie screamed.
Tabby paled.
Brie covered her face with her hands and gave in to her grief and powerlessness, and now, even rage. Aidan was in enough anguish, and he must never know what had happened.
Her friends gathered and held her close.