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“Half the battle done,” I said, stepping back.
While Daisy motioned for the gravediggers to close up the coffins again, I texted Darla to ask if she had the knitting needles and other items.
i do and i’m back at home. things feel very weird so i’m sitting outside in my car. i told georgie to wait at the hotel with the kids. do you really think this will work?
i hope so. i finished salting the bones and it had a noticeable effect. i’ll be there in ten minutes and hopefully we’ll put an end to this.
I glanced up at Daisy. “I’m headed over to Darla’s to finish this exorcism. Thank you. You don’t know what a help this has been.” I pointed to the coffins. The gravediggers had affixed the lids again, and now they were back to digging. “Tell me, will you put up markers?”
“We can’t afford much, but we’ll erect stones to mark their graves,” Daisy said.
“Let me know when they’re up, and I’ll bring out some flowers.” It was the least I could do. Somebody needed to remember the nameless, and I was willing to do that.
* * *
I arrivedat Darla’s shortly afterward. She was waiting for me—as she had said—in her car. A box sat on the hood and as I hopped out of my car and approached her, she pointed to it.
“There are the things. I didn’t have the courage to go back inside by myself.” She looked harried and tired, with dark circles under her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t had any sleep since Tuesday night and here it was Friday.
“I’m glad you didn’t. When I salted the bones, it was bound to stir things up. I’ll take those items into the basement and destroy them and that should be it.” I patted her on the shoulder. “Whatever you do, don’t come in.”
“What if you’re in trouble?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, not sure if I believed it. But I picked up the box of items and took the key Darla gave me and headed into the house.
* * *
The house feltdifferent than when I’d last been there. The spirits had been up in arms, intent on chasing us out. Now, though they were still here, the energy was tilt-a-whirl crazy, a runaway force spinning without someone to slow it down.
I knew what had happened to cause the shift.
When I had salted the bones, it had broken the demons away from their anchors, and freed the spirits they had taken over. The demons were still trapped within the house because the items used to keep them there were still whole and in my possession. I could feel them spinning around me in a crazed circle. But they couldn’t use the anchors to direct their attacks. Nothing happened when I entered the house, but they knew I was here, and probably knew that I was about ready to dispel them.
I headed for the basement.
“I can handle this,” I whispered to myself as I descended the stairs, cautiously steadying myself against the wall.
The bare light bulb swayed on its own as I made my way through the stacks of boxes, nerves alight and ready for a confrontation. I was in danger and I knew it. I pulled out my phone and set it on the box next to the trunk.
After placing all the items in the trunk, I pulled out a bottle of water. It had occurred to me that since metal knitting needles couldn’t burn and neither could a piece of obsidian, fire wouldn’t take care of everything. But fire and water together were a potent mix.
I began by opening the jar of hellebore and scattering it in the trunk. Next, I unraveled the partly knitted potholder and coiled the yarn on top of the hellebore. Then, using a lighter, I lit on fire the paper with the incantation written on it and held it over the herbs and yarn until it was flickering brightly as the flames ate away at the page.
Before the flames could reach my fingers, I dropped the burning paper onto the pile, but the yarn didn’t take and the herbs were so dusty that they just sputtered.
“Well, at least the paper burned,” I said. I brought out a bottle of blessed moon water that I had made and poured it into the trunk, saturating everything. Then I picked up the obsidian and, standing back, I threw it into the trunk as hard as I could. It splintered into a hundred shards.
The moment the obsidian shattered, the energy in the basement began to shake. Boxes flew off the stacks, shooting across the room. I yelped, ducking as one nearly hit me in the head. The next moment, I smelled something burning and glanced back at the trunk. Smoke and flames were billowing out of it, flickering up to set on fire some of the papers in a nearby box.
What the fuck? The flame had refused to take when I tried to burn the herbs and yarn! Where had they come from?
Then common sense took over and I grabbed my phone, dialing Darla. “Call the fire department immediately. Fire in the basement.”
“Get out of there now! I’ll call 911.” She hung up.
I looked around to see that the fire was already spreading through the boxes of junk and old magazines that filled the basement, jumping from box to box like a wildfire crowning the top of the trees. A thick, oily smoke was beginning to spread, filling the air. I coughed, trying to see through the haze. I stumbled over a box and realized that I had gotten turned around and I was going the wrong way.
How do I get out?I was beginning to panic. I couldn’t see the floor and now the flames surrounded me. I tried to think of a spell to quench them, but the fear crowding my mind was so strong that it pushed everything away.
