Rubbing my side, I followed the small cluster of females out of the parlor and down a neat, clean corridor lined with paintings of pastoral scenes and flowers. I admired the fresh vase of gardenias, which smelled heavenly, and observed the wainscoting had recently been painted.
We came upon the cat as we rounded a corner. He was playing with a cricket, which I found quite curious. I noticed there was another of the same uncommon insect lying feet-up on the floor farther down the hall. I found that an anomaly in an otherwise perfectly neat and clean corridor and wondered from where the creatures had come.
Moments later, we entered the prepared chamber.
I’d hardly a chance to take in the room before Miss Norton squealed. “The oracle! It’s here.”
This drew everyone’s attention to the device sitting on the table. The object would just fit in my open hand. Its sides, made of hinged bronze and copper pieces, were unfolded to reveal a centerpiece that looked like a glass sphere with ribbons of colors swirling inside. Approximately the size of an orange, the opaque blue-green orb—presumably the oracle?—was nestled in an intricate setting of gears and cogworks. I wasn’t close enough to determine whether the orb itself was ancient, but its nest appeared to be a pleasing combination of ancient art and modern gadgetry. When its sides were folded up into place, the item would resemble a slender pentagonal box.
“What does it do?” asked Aunt Geraldine, who had unexpectedly followed us. I noted with approval the skepticism in her tone and demeanor.
“Why, the oracle opens the door wide between our world and that of the Spirit World. Merely having such an object present during the séance will be invaluable in our efforts to contact your mother, Miss Ashton.”
“Truly?” Willa’s whisper was heartbreaking in its desperation. “It will help me to communicate with her?”
“I’m certain of it.”
And I was certain Mrs. Yingling’s fee would have to increase in order to cover the additional expertise needed to “read” the “oracle.”
The medium continued, “I shall have to do some more research and study in order to determine the best way to utilize the oracle—”
“That is an excellent idea,” I interrupted. “Particularly since your continued reference to that object as an oracle isn’t quite accurate. It might be an oracle’s glass, but it is not an oracle per se.”
Miss Stoker rolled her eyes while I continued my explanation with great patience. “An oracle is a person—or group of people who—supposedly—speak divinely; that is, through a deity, in order to answer questions or give guidance. Any type of device may assist the oracle in determining the answer to the query at hand—including a glass sphere such as this one, tea leaves, or small imprinted stones called runes. But the sphere itself isn’t the oracle.” I looked around the chamber to make certain everyone understood the distinction. “In this case, I believe a more accurate term for this object would be ‘spiritglass.’ ”
“Very well then,” said Mrs. Yingling in a vague manner. “Shall we begin?”
“Can’t you keep your mouth closed for once?” Miss Stoker hissed, jabbing me in the side as we took our seats. “If you’re rude, we might be off this case before we even get started.”
Lifting my nose, I muttered, “I see no reason to allow a person to spout inaccuracies or misinformation, particularly to young, naive women. Recall, if you will, the danger that befell the foolish women involved in the Society of Sekhmet because they believed the ridiculous ravings of the individual known as the Ankh.”
Miss Stoker returned my stare but said nothing—for of course I was correct. And if there was anything I could do to keep another naive young woman from being conned by a nefarious villain, I would do it.
Miss Stoker
In Which Our Heroines Encounter Raps and Jolts
I barely managed to keep from stomping on Mina’s toes as she paraded past me to take her seat. Not that her knowledge and deductive abilities didn’t come in handy. But couldn’t she learn when to keep her thoughts to herself? I smoothed my skirt and petticoats as I took a chair next to her. At least if I was sitting beside Mina, I could elbow her into silence.
I’d never been to a séance before, but I knew what to expect. The six of us gathered around a small circular table in a stuffy room with closed and curtained windows. The only light was a group of three small candles in wide, squat holders at the center of the table. They surrounded the oracle—no, spiritglass. The surface was bare and there were no furnishings other than walls of bookshelves. Long shadows danced across the table and ceiling, and the corners of the room were dark and gloomy. Could there be any more perfect place for a séance?
“Hush.” Mrs. Yingling’s command halted Mina as she leaned toward me, obviously about to make some pithy observation. Maybe she’d noticed a loose hair on the table and was about to give an entire history of its owner.
“Everyone must remain silent or the spirits will not visit.” Mrs. Yingling looked pointedly at Mina, then me, and then around the table. I was surprised Aunt Geraldine had taken a seat as well. Maybe she thought it was best to see exactly what her niece was up to.
“Join hands, please, ladies. You must remove your gloves.” She pointed at Miss Rolstone. “It is imperative that we are flesh to flesh, for the energy will be that much more vibrant, and the connection with the spirits will be that much stronger. I can feel them gathering in preparation for our call.” She looked up as if to see the spirits hovering on the ceiling.
Mina shifted next to me. I wasn’t surprised to feel the skepticism rolling off her. Naturally, as a vampire hunter I was more inclined to believe in Para-Natural occurrences than most people. When you come face to face with a red-eyed demonic creature with fangs, your skepticism vanishes pretty quickly.
And sometimes, so did your wits.
The single time I’d encountered an UnDead, I couldn’t remember what happened. The violent scene had become blanked from my memory. I don’t know what I did after I took up the stake.
“Now,” Mrs. Yingling said. “We join hands not only to make a bond of energy, but also to create a welcoming circle for our spirit friends in hopes they will visit us.”
Despite the medium’s warning, Mina muttered, “And to ensure everyone’s hands remain in view.”
Mrs. Yingling had removed her glasses, placing them on the table. Her eyes were closed and her face lifted toward the ceiling. “Come, now, spirits of our loved ones! We are here, and we beg you to join us. We welcome you and ask you to give a sign of your presence.”