The shadows were still there but they’d drawn back from her.
“It’s time for you to go. I have work to do.” She released the transformed power in a single burst of light that banished the shadows that had sought to stop her. Without looking, she reachedout a hand and found the satchel that had been pulled from her shoulder. The object of her need before her, Maureen completed her task.
Flute in hand, she walked at a good clip back to where Felicia was waiting. This time, it looked like her peer was ready. She waved the flute at Felicia. “I have it.”
“Good. Here’s the tune.” She hummed a five-note tune. “Got it?”
Maureen twirled her hand for Felicia to repeat the tune. “D... E... C... C... G. Okay.” She gave an experimental whirl on the flute, taking a couple of times to find the correct notes. She fingered the flute until Felicia nodded.
“That’s right. Hold the fourth and fifth notes a touch longer.”
Maureen did as she was told. She repeated the musical phrase four times and stopped. “Just keep repeating this?”
“Yes. Don’t stop. No matter what happens. Just play the music. Steady and consistent.”
“Inside or outside the room?”
Felicia grimaced. “Inside. As soon as I close the door, start. Ready?”
“Ready.”
Felicia opened the door and all was set as it was before: Harold in the middle of the room within a ritual circle with the implements and the stone tablet. Though, this time, he, and all the things within the circle, were floating.
Maureen began playing at Felicia’s nod. She moved to one side of the room as Felicia walked around the ritual circle, prodding it with a sensibly shod toe. With a grunt, Felicia poured one pouch of salt in a haphazard line on top of one quarter of the circle. Shelooked over her shoulder, gimlet eyes hard. “Keep playing. It’s about to get messy.”
Maureen nodded her upper body, not missing a note.
With a breath, Felicia steeled herself and heaved a mighty kick at the quarter of the circle covered in salt. Her foot rebounded against air and she yelped at the pain. “Bastard,” she muttered, then reset herself and heaved a second kick at the circle. Again it rebounded. “Third time swings true.” On her third kick, Felicia also thrust her ritual knife before her as if stabbing leather.
The sound of tearing fabric ripped through the air.
Maureen shifted to keep Felicia in sight and to blow her musical attack toward Harold through the tear in the ritual circle. Wind buffeted them both as Felicia forced her way into whatever ritual spell Harold was part of. At this point, she was sure that Harold had no idea what he was doing—if it was him in his body at all.
Felicia held out her exposed forearm and slashed it with her knife. Her cries of pain, if there were any, were lost to the howling wind. She chopped the air with her injured arm in the four cardinal directions; blood flew from her wounds to splatter against the basket, knife, and crystals floating in the air. As the crimson droplets struck true, the implements crashed to the ground.
When Felicia’s blood struck Harold and the stone tablet, he wobbled but remained in the air and Felicia’s blood was sucked into the tablet.
Felicia slashed her already injured arm again before she dropped her knife and grabbed the tablet, pressing her bloody arm to the stone. Harold let out an unearthly shriek.
Maureen bobbled the tune as the sound raked over her mind. It took her a precious moment to regain her fingering. In that one moment, Harold backhanded Felicia hard.
Felicia stumbled back a step but didn’t let go of the stone tablet. With her own horrifying shriek, she wrenched herself away from Harold, twisting the cursed thing from him. Still shrieking—this time in the tune that Maureen played—she raised the tablet above her head, then slammed it to the ground with as much adrenaline-fueled anger as she could summon.
The stone tablet broke into pieces and all sound stopped except for Maureen’s playing. Harold collapsed to the carpet. Felicia picked up the biggest unbroken piece and looked at it. “You can stop now.”
Maureen broke off in midtune. “Are you all right?”
Felicia shook her head. “I’ve been better. But I’ll be fine soon enough.”
“Oh, dear. What a mess.” Maureen looked around the room. “We need to fix this.”
“I’m going to leave that to you.” Felicia put the piece of stone into the docent vest pouch pocket. “Keeping this to study. Best if it’s not put back together again.”
“Yes.” Maureen gazed at Harold’s unmoving form. “I have an idea. You rest.”
“Mr. Sperling? Harold? Are you all right?” Maureen shook Harold’s shoulder.
Harold blinked owlish eyes at Maureen. “What? What happened?”
