“I think it’s the key to breaking the curse. If everything goes like I hope, you can have it back later tonight.”
He nods. “I’d like that.” His voice has a hint of its old softness, which only makes me more anxious to get this over with.
I set the locket on top of the gravestone between the candle and bowl of holy water. “Now, there’s one last thing I need. You’re not going to like it, but you’ve got to do it, even if it’s the last thing you want to do.”
Chapter Twenty-four
I extend my hands toward Cooper and Jack; the ruby fragment twinkles in the center of my left palm.
Cooper’s lip twists. “You want to hold hands? Do we have to?”
My heart sinks. I guess his softness only applies to his mom. “Believe me, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to. I don’t have enough of my own energy to work this spell, so I need some of yours.”
Cooper’s brow creases. “For real?”
Jack clasps his palm over my ruby, then holds out his free hand containing his own stone. “Yeah, she is. And considering this is all for you, I say you do it and be grateful.”
“Fine,” Cooper grumbles as he takes his place opposite Jack and me. We join our hands, locking us in a circle, though Cooper’s grip around my fingers is tentative and less than committed.
Still, their energy courses through me in a circular motion, up through one arm, across my body, then out the other side. I draw a huge breath and fill my lungs. Within seconds, I sense the restoration begin in my muscles as my blood vessels deliver rich, oxygen-filled blood to my tissues. I haven’t felt this vibrant in days.
Thick, dark clouds converge over the cemetery, blocking out the stars.
An electric hum vibrates in my chest.
Cooper’s eyes pop. “Oh wow.”
“Cool.” Jack’s voice is filled with wonder.
I smile, elated by the tingling sensation that’s fortifying and repairing my body’s natural balance. “It’s an energy circle. It won’t drain your strength, just recycle it a bit through all of us. Think of it like a circuit. But no matter what happens in the next few minutes, don’t let go. Otherwise, you’ll break the connection and the spell will fail.” I shoot a pointed glance at Cooper, hoping he gets how serious I am and that I’m not doing this just to cop a feel.
He nods. “Okay.” Then grips harder, clutching my hand so tight, his ruby shard digs into my palm.
A jolt of electricity shoots up my forearm, searing the flesh beneath my skin. I gasp and fight the urge to yank my hand from his. Instinctively, I sense this bone-deep pain is due to something more than just the jewel wedged into my hand. I glance into his cool gray eyes. His face is still, as if he’s not aware of my discomfort or the intermittent shocks that zap my skin.
Something doesn’t want to me keep hold of him. Whatever that something is, it greatly underestimates me. I’m not letting go, no matter what.
The breeze kicks up, shaking the trees, and rattling the kudzu leaves like maracas.
“You okay?” Jack asks.
“I’ll be fine.” I breathe deep and try to ignore the ache that’s jolting my arm. “It’s time to start. After I start chanting, you guys can join in.”
Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the smooth glass beads of my collier that lay against my clammy chest. I’m going to need every section tonight, especially the light blue and pink beads, intended to help hear the voice of spirit. If ever I needed my spirit guide, tonight’s the night. Next, I envision the red and white beads that convey the power of spoken word and prayer, hoping they’ll help me get this incantation right. Finally, I visualize the most important section, the purple, white, and black beads, the ones intended to make it easier to communicate with the dead. As much as I appreciated Maggie’s help this afternoon, there’s only one dead person I’m hoping will show up tonight, prodded on by the acacia leaves, althaea root, and holy water.
My mind clears. Lifting my lids, I let the words flow:
“Ancient curse cast at the birth of a son,
Stealing his soul when of age he has come,
Cast in revenge for a hideous crime,
Enduring nearly three centuries of time.
From Lady Rose and her child,
Every Beaumont son reviled,
Through each generation,
Thanks to Sabina’s damnation.
But that ends tonight,
As we beckon the light,
And seek the only power,
That can force the curse to cower.
Nothing’s as strong as a mother’s affection,
It offers pure love and unfailing protection,
So we summon Clarissa to help break this curse,
By calling her spirit and reciting her verse:
‘Your heart and mine,
Forever entwined,
Love everlasting,
Till the end of time.’”
The temperature drops at least ten degrees. A crack of thunder booms in the distance.
Cooper’s eyes stretch wide. “You’re calling my mom?” His voice is breathy and filled with apprehension.
“Shh,” I warn, then repeat the verse from the locket two more times. By the time I’ve completed it, Jack and Cooper have caught on, joining in the recitation.
As we chant, the ground rumbles under our feet. Jack’s grip tightens. He’s no doubt thinking about the last earthquake we witnessed beneath the bottle tree at Miss Delia’s. But that was different. Miss Delia was releasing dark magic from some evil curios. We’re doing just the opposite, evoking white magic for protection. I shoot him a reassuring glance and squeeze him back.
A faint yellow light wiggles its way up out of the ground in front of Clarissa’s grave.
My chest swells with joy. It’s working. I recite the verse from the locket again, this time with more feeling and urgency. Jack and Cooper follow my lead.
The wind kicks up and another blast of thunder crashes, this time closer, somewhere above the salt marsh.
The light brightens as it rises from the rich soil. Finally, it emerges, a wisp of dazzling incandescence that curls up into the air like a fancy cursive s. The clearing fills with the sweet scent of jasmine. The light spins slowly toward Cooper, approaching him tentatively, then hovering at his eye level.
“Emma?” His voice quivers.
I complete the last line of the verse, then pause only long enough to answer him. “It’s okay, Cooper. She won’t hurt you. I promise.” I grit my teeth as I swallow the pang trailing up my arm.
Jack and I repeat the poem again, watching as the light encircles Cooper, coils around his arms and torso, then nuzzles his face and hair. It finally comes to rest in the crook of his chest and shoulder.
“It’s her,” he whispers. In the candlelight, a tear works its way down the side of his face. He gazes at the shimmering light. “I’ve missed you so much, Mom.”
Ignoring the hot sensation that’s stinging my eyes, I concentrate on Clarissa’s poem, since I’m sure it’s the key to breaking the curse.
The shimmering light slides away from Cooper, then hovers above the candle on her gravestone. Though it’s just a formless wisp of brilliance, it seems to nod at me, as if it’s waiting for me to take the next step.
Except I’m not sure what that is. I’ve barely gotten us this far, and I don’t have a clue what’s supposed to happen next.