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My shoulders rest below my ears for the first time in weeks.
“That would be amazing.” I pass my phone to Evan, and he types Dante’s number in. I made a note to text him tonight.
“Also, did I see you lugging around theParanormal Compendiumlast week?” Evan asks.
“Yeah, when I have a problem, I tend to, uh, research it first.”
“That shit’s child’s play, let me show you where the real resources are.”
After lunch, he puts the “out of office” sign on the third-floor door and takes me to the fifth floor.
“These are our non-circulating materials. You can take as many photos as you need.” The fifth floor is cavernous, with stained glass windows creating kaleidoscopes that splash against the oak shelves. It smells like old leather. Evan takes me to the back left corner.
“Paranormal Resources? This was here this whole time, and you never thought to tell me?”
“Again, Dante says I can’t interfere with the process. Now, seeing as Beatrix is intimately connected to the house itself, I'd say you should start by cleansing the space itself.” He gestures toward a small shelf filled with slim, leather-bound volumes.
“These are all our books about ritual cleansing. But here.” He walks over to the desk and grabs a piece of paper, scribbling something down.
“Start by washing the floors with a mixture of salt and herbs. You’ll want to wash in an outward motion; you’re physically pushing the negative energy out. Do it tonight. Do you have lavender?”
“There’s some in the garden out front.”
“Excellent, grab a couple of sprigs and burn them while you walk around the house. This will help cleanse it as well. I’d say pay special attention to the attic since she’s been known to frequent there. Now, how are you protecting yourself?”
“I, uh, I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer. Tonight, after work, I want you to go to Isa’s Apothecary on 21st Street. Tell her Evan sent you. Hell, tell her where you live. She’ll give you everything you need.”
Isa’s Apothecary is a tiny navy building between the butcher and a music store. I always thought it specialized in luxury beauty products, but the tiny neon crystal ball in the doorway tells me otherwise.
The bell above the door clangs as I enter. The space smells like nag champa incense. The front desk is a clear case showcasing various crystals, from tiny pieces of rose quartz to huge hunks of agate.
A woman stands at the desk, furiously scribbling something in a tiny journal. She’s wearing a gauzy lavender dress. Her hair is up in a loose bun, and a shawl is draped across her shoulders.
“Are you Isa?” I ask.
She nods.
“Indeed. What can I help you with, dear?”
“I live at Idylewylde Hall.”
“Okay, oh, God. What do you need? Protection? Let’s start there, at least. Come, look at these,” she gestures toward the case. I walk over there and peer at the dazzling crystals.
“I’d start with this,” she points to a matte black stone.
“This is black tourmaline. It’s used for protection. You can either wrap the wire yourself and put it on a chain, or we have these little orbs,” She points to a tiny spinning rack next to her, where loose round charms dangle off the edge, “That you can put the crystal in. I’d always wear this.”
“Okay, I’ll take it,” I say quickly. At this point, I’m desperate for anything resembling a solution. I select a stone, and Isa puts it on a chain for me, before handing it over. I loop the chain around my neck, so the stone rests against my collarbone. Even if it ends up being only symbolic, I feel better.
“Evan told me to wash my floors tonight with herbs or something. Do you have anything for that?”
“Yes! You’ll want some thyme for protection. That’s over here,” she leads me to a hanging rack of dried herbs. “I’d also throw some coarse sea salt in and peppermint for protection as well.” She hands me everything as she explains it. Soon, I’ve got an armful of sachets of dried herbs.
“You can throw some juniper in there as well,” she says, adding another sachet to the pile.
I pay for the herbs and the crystal while thanking Isa profusely.
