Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (84)
The crone wordlessly walked me to the back of the shop and down two flights of stairs. “I had no idea this building had a basement,” I remarked, only slightly unsettled by the dim candlelight and eerie quiet. The bottom of the stairs was a stone cave-like floor, glistening with ripples of turquoise. In the center was a pool of water the size of a large jacuzzi. The woman gestured toward the water and draped a towel on the railing of the stairs. “You want me to get in?” I asked.
The woman spoke then, pointing a veiny finger toward the water. “A ritual bath in moon water will cleanse you for what we need to do. Soak for thirty minutes and join us down the corridor.” She gestured to a hallway on the left.
I nodded, and she walked carefully past the pool, down the way I was to go after half an hour. After tying my long hair up in a messy bun, I undressed and carefully stepped into the pool. The water was surprisingly warm, and it glowed as if lit on its own. As odd as the situation was, it wasn’t unpleasant. I leaned back, letting my head rest on the rock, because hell if I was going to let magic moon water mess up my liquid liner.
With a sigh, I let my legs float and my toes poke above the surface.
Suddenly, my mind flashed crimson.
I was in a lot I recognized. It was the one I parked in for Hallows Fest. The place we’d encountered my stepfather’s body and the . . . puppeteers the night before. Only now, it glowed orange, and the burnt smell of ash invaded my senses. I tried to kick in the water, thrash, wake myself up, but I couldn’t escape. A bird cawed, and Raven, as a humanoid, appeared by my side. Crackles and hisses of embers flicked around us as I surveyed the forest. What was once lush and thriving, now stood decayed by char. The scene was shocking and disturbingly real. I could feel the brush of heat along my cheek. “What happened here?” I looked to my long-beaked friend, who stated simply, “You did.”
But it wasn’t panic that consumed me, or fear, it was something hotter. Rage.
With a gasp, I felt smooth water around me as I kicked and came back to myself. My hair and face were dry, so I hadn’t gone under. Panting, I pulled myself out and wrapped a towel around me. Once I’d shakily pulled on my clothes, I padded toward the hallway, where a figure startled me. Another old woman stood, cloaked in purple. “It’s been two hours. I came to find you.”
Two hours?
“I’m sorry. I think I fell asleep.” I nervously released my hair from its bun, letting it fall in soft waves.
The crone clicked her tongue, eyeing me skeptically. “Come.” I followed her down a torch-lit path to a large room that was considerably more comfortable. Dried flowers and herbs swayed as they dangled from the ceiling, and hundreds of jars lined old wooden tables. “An apothecary?” I asked.
The crone dipped her head. “Sit.”
I did as I was told and took a seat across from her. Between us, a rickety table moaned as she placed her boney elbows atop it. With a flick of her wrist, four items appeared before us. “Just pick the one you like the most. Don’t give it too much thought.”
A shallow breath landed in my chest as I looked at the objects: the head of a red rose, a purple hyacinth, white daisy, and yellow daffodil. I pointed to the mauve hyacinth. The old woman waved a hand and the objects changed, shuffling like a deck of cards before my eyes. My stomach twisted at such an obvious display of power. I pointed quicker, this time to a bat wing amongst a rabbit’s foot, fish head, and pink feather. Another wave of her bony hand over the objects and they shuffled. This time my fingers grazed the item from head to tip, the dry feel of snakeskin beneath my touch. I hardly noticed the monarch butterfly model, something like a small animal pelt, and white tooth arranged next to it. At my touch, the snakeskin hummed and puckered before smoothing to its long, three-foot length. When I pulled away from my sudden fascination with the dark gray skin, I met the crone’s hazel gaze. “It moved on its own?” I asked, wondering why the snakeskin animated while the others didn’t.
The crone’s mouth leveled into a hard line, and something like worry crinkled her forehead. “I think we’ll skip stone and fire,” was all she said. Her chair scraped against the stone floor as she stood. “Come.”
Feeling like I failed a test, I followed. This time, we arrived in a dark room, the glow from a crystal ball in the center of a round table. Marcelene sat at the far end, next to the woman that took me to the bath. Next to Marcelene and the apothecary woman sat a third witch. “We appreciate your cooperation, Blythe. I know this must all be very sudden and strange.”
I fidgeted with a beaded bracelet on my wrist. “Thank you,” was all I could think to say.
“This is Victoria and Esther, and we are the elder crones of The Moon Halo Coven. And you, Blythe Pearl, are a peculiar girl.” She took my hand and placed it palm up on the center of the table. Victoria, the apothecary witch, leaned in, as did Esther, the one who directed me to the bath. “Curious,” Victoria murmured.
“How could this be, sister?” Esther asked, only giving my palm a quick flick of her gaze.
“This while being devoid of an aura . . . ,” Victoria answered.
I looked at Marcelene, “Do you think whatever is . . . weird . . . about me is why these . . . things are following me?” I had no idea what they saw in my hand or aura, or why the bath or mystery object choosing mattered, and I didn’t really care. I just wanted to know how to get rid of whatever was chasing me so I could attempt to live in some sort of peace.