Beautiful Darkness(89)

“I foresaw your arrival, too.” Arelia was stating a fact, but it annoyed Amma just the same. I could tell by the look on her face.

Amma raised her chin. “After I mentioned it.” Amma was used to being the only Seer in Gatlin, and she didn't like being trumped, even if it was by a Diviner with supernatural gifts.

The other woman, the one I didn't know, turned to Amma. “We bes’ get started, Amarie. They're waitin’.”

“Come sit down here.” Amma motioned to us. “Twyla's ready.” Twyla. I recognized the name.

Arelia answered the question before I asked. “This is my sister, Twyla. She's come a long way to be with us here tonight.” I remembered. Lena had mentioned her Great-Aunt Twyla, the one who had never left New Orleans. Until now.

“ ’At's right. Now you come on sit by me, cher. Don't be ’fraid. It's only a Circle a Sight.” Twyla patted the space next to her. Amma was sitting on Twyla's other side, giving me the Look. Liv stepped back, looking pretty freaked out, even if she was training to be a Keeper. Link stayed right behind her. Amma had that effect on people, and from the looks of things, Twyla and Arelia did, too.

“My sister is a powerful Necromancer.” Arelia's voice was proud.

Link made a face and whispered to Liv. “She gets with dead people? That's the kinda thing a person should keep to themselves.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “Not a necrophiliac, stupid. A Necromancer, a Caster capable of calling and communicating with the dead.”

Arelia nodded. “That's right, and we need help from someone who's already left this world.”

I knew right away who she was talking about, or at least I hoped I did. “Amma, are we trying to call Macon?”

Sadness passed across her face. “I wish I could say we were, but wherever Melchizedek's gone, we can't go.”

“It's time.” Twyla pulled something out of her pocket and looked at Amma and Arelia. You could feel the shift in their demeanor. The three of them were all business now, even if it was the business of waking the dead.

Arelia opened her hands in front of her lips and spoke softly into them. “My power is your power, sisters.” She tossed tiny stones into the center of the circle.

“Moonstones,” Liv whispered.

Amma pulled out a sack of chicken bones. I would know that smell anywhere. It was the smell of my kitchen back home. “My power's your power, sisters.”

Amma tossed the bones into the circle with the moonstones. Twyla opened her own hand, revealing a tiny carving in the shape of a bird. She spoke the words that gave it power.

“One unto this world, one unto da next.



Open the door to da one who's annexed.”





She started to chant, loud and feverish, the unfamiliar words rippling through the air. Her eyes rolled back in her head, but her eyelids remained open. Arelia began to chant as well, shaking long strands of tasseled beads.

Amma grabbed my chin so she could look me in the eye. “I know this isn't goin’ to be easy, but there are things you need to know.”

The air in the center of the Circle of Sight began to swirl and churn, creating a thin white mist. Twyla, Arelia, and Amma continued to chant, their voices reaching a crescendo. The mist seemed to act on their command, gaining speed and density, swirling upward like a growing tornado.

Without warning, Twyla inhaled sharply, as if she was taking her last breath. The mist seemed to follow, disappearing into her mouth. For a minute, I thought she was going to drop dead. She sat there, her back so straight you would've thought she was tied to a rack, eyes rolled back in her head, mouth still open.

Link retreated to a safe distance while Liv scrambled forward to help, reaching for Twyla. But Amma grabbed her arm in midair. “Wait.”

Twyla exhaled. The white mist raced from her lips, rising over the circle. Taking form. The mist swirled upward, creating a body as it moved. The bare feet, peeking out beneath a white dress, the torso filling the dress as if inflating a balloon. It was a Sheer, rising from the haze. I watched as the mist snaked upward, creating a torso, a delicate neck, and finally a face.

It was —

My mother.

Staring back at me with the same luminous, ethereal quality unique to Sheers. But beyond the translucence, she looked exactly like my mother. Her eyelids fluttered, and she looked at me. The Sheer didn't just look like my mother. It was my mother.

She spoke, and her voice was as soft and melodic as I remembered. “Ethan, sweetheart, I've been waiting for you.”

I stared at her, speechless. In every dream I'd had of her since the day she died, every photograph, every memory — she was never as real as this.

“There is so much I need to tell you, so much I can't say. I've tried to show you the way, send you the songs….”

She sent me the songs. The songs only Lena and I could hear. I spoke, but my voice sounded far away, as if it wasn't my own. Seventeen Moons — the Shadowing Song. “It was you, this whole time.”

She smiled. “Yes. You needed me. But now he needs you, and you need him, too.”

“Who? Are you talking about Dad?” But I knew she wasn't talking about my father. She was talking about the other man who meant so much to both of us.

Macon.