Page 130 of Specters & Spotlights

Lark practiced the motion: step, turn, prick, summon. She concealed it with a spin and a line of dialogue—nothing that would raise suspicion to an untrained eye. Graham moved in close to assist with the misdirection—just enough cover to draw attention to himself when she needed to complete the summoning. The spell would be masked in performance.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was close.

“It’s gonna take sleight of hand and timing,” Jen muttered.

“Sounds like theatre,” Elise replied, sounding more confident than she felt.

They ran it again.

And just as they hit the final moment, a stage light popped—loud as a gunshot.

A burst of light from above. One of the downstage fixtures sparked, raining glittering shards onto the stage below.

Everyone stilled.

Elise felt her skin flash hot. Her tattoos pulsed, ink trembling with alarm.

“He’s close,” she said quietly. “Too close.”

Romy arrived from backstage, sage already lit, wafting spirals of smoke like she’d been waiting for her cue.

“I heard the pop. We’re doing a cleanse before someone accidentally gets possessed.” She moved with the confidence of someone who’d done this before.

Elise stepped back. “Please and thank you,” she said. But her voice was tight. She wasn’t sure sage would be enough.

Across the wings, Kevin flickered into view—faint, stretched thin like a reflection in warped glass.

Elise moved toward him. “You okay?”

He offered her a tired half-smile. “Still here. Mostly. Definitely less photogenic.”

She raised a brow. “Anything I should know?”

Kevin sighed. “The mime won’t stop following me. I think he’s waiting for me to transform under a full moon or something.”

Elise blinked. “Giggles?”

“That’s the one. Just stands there. Smiling.” He gave her a flat look. “It’s deeply unsettling.”

Elise tried not to laugh. “Noted. We’ll add ‘paranormal mime surveillance’ to the list of tonight’s complications.”

She reached for her pocket, grounding herself with the familiar weight of the pocket watch beneath her jacket.

“Not long now,” she whispered.

Back in the wig closet, Elise found Marcie already at work, gently gluing a lacefront into place.

“Figured I’d get a jump on things,” Marcie said, smiling over her shoulder.

“Lifesaver,” Elise replied. She took over without needing to ask. The rhythm of her hands in hair helped.

The familiar tug of lace and sweep of combs grounded her. Warding spells might protect them tonight, but this—this was her kind of magic. Making the wigs look perfect. Transforming people into their characters. Keeping her hands busy, her brain quiet.

The cast flowed in and out, buoyed by pre-show energy. Ed kept muttering Latin phrases like a cursed priest from a horror movie, while Bex was sketching everyone's “pre-banishment aura” in their notebook with terrifying focus.

Despite everything—or maybe because of it—everyone seemed unusually cheerful. Elise fielded a few nervous jokes and genuine questions about how exactly this spell was going to work. She smiled, nodded, reassured.

Graham appeared in the doorway like a breath of fresh air, suited in his full costume, every button in place, every line sharp. But his voice was gentle.