A week goesby with no word from the contest, though I’m not surprised. I didn’t think I would hear back after only a week of the deadline passing, unless they found it completely unwatchable, of course.
I find other ways to distract myself from worrying about the entry that aren’t rereading Nerys Gray’s article one thousand more times. I see Meggie. I visit my mother. I find a few new places to investigate—a nearly abandoned mall (a movie theater is still hanging on in there), a tiny graveyard behind an old church, a house that is currently up for sale, but nothing leads to any great footage. Decent footage I can make videos out of, because not all of my videos need to have groundbreakingresults, but it’s always nice to find a little somethingmore.
And of course, I continue to work. While I’m behind the buy counter, where customers can sell their used books to us, someone tries to sell a bunch of old American Girl Doll books. One of them isMeet Kit, an American Girl. I sigh. Of course, a silly book about a doll would bring him back into my thoughts. After that, I can’t get him off my mind for the rest of the day.
During a lull in the afternoon, I use the computer behind the counter for personal reasons. The store is not busy, and I have to stay manned behind this computer. Another perk of working for an independent bookstore, no corporate weirdos to dig into our search histories.
I absently twist a strand of hair around my finger as I reread the article I have now read approximately one hundred thousand times. This processof bringing Kit back to life is complicated—mainly due to the required ingredients. I grab a notebook and pen and start to make a list. There are some run-of-the-mill spices that I can pull from my kitchen. Sage, sea salt, cardamom. Then some ingredients that are going to be more difficult to find, like belladonna. And some that I don’t even know how I am going to get my hands on.
“What the hell is ‘amber blood?’” I mutter. I try to google it and come up with nothing concrete. Does it mean blood amber, like blood diamonds? I sincerely hope not. No, I’m sure it has to mean something mystical. I decide to move on for now.
Another issue is the space where I’m going to perform this ritual. It apparently cannot just be done in my living room.An open space on hallowed ground.So…a graveyard? That sounds…dangerous. Because what if the spell goes awry and instead of creating a new body for Kit, I accidentally bring a pack of zombies to life?
Okay, I don’t think any spell I do will be powerful enough to start a new season ofThe Walking Dead.
Life and death aren’t something to be played around with. I know this. All paranormal media has warned me of this. But I’m not really playing around with life and death, am I? Kit died, sure, but someone else already brought him back to life. I’m trying to repair his soul and give it a place to go. He still has it, buried deep under the rubble of his time in Hell, I’m just offering magical stitches.
I throw my head in my hands as a little voice in the back of my mind scolds me for this hope. This is never going to work.
I keep my head in my hands until I hear someone say my name. I look up sharply, blinking blankly, because I forgot where I was. My place of employment.
“Whatcha doin’?” Matthias asks, black-lined eyes scanning me up and down.
“Contemplating literally every choice I have ever made in my life.” I drag a hand through my hair. “What about you?”
He shrugs. “Wondering why you’re making notes about ingredients for…” He cranes his head to see my notebook, which I promptly snap shut. “Kit’s Soul Restoration,” he spouts off anyway. He squints at me. “The demon? You’re trying to restore his soul?”
“No,” I say, and my cheeks heat unnecessarily.
Matthias wiggles his eyebrows. “Oooo, okay. She saysno. Come on, Lace. I know you like the guy.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, cursing the upward pitch of my voice.
“Sure.” Matthias snatches the notebook and quickly flips to the page I was taking my notes on.
I attempt to snatch it back, but he holds it out of my reach, the charm I got him dangling from his wrist as he reads. He then closes the notebook and hands it back to me silently with a curious eyebrow raised.
“What?”
“This is legit.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Like, you’re trying to work an actual spell. Lacy, this is big shit. Were you planning on attempting it alone? Why didn’t you ask me to help?”
“It’s nothing. It’s not…” I exhale. “I was afraid you would tell me it wouldn’t work. I’m so new to this…thisworldof things that shouldn’t exist. Ghosts are one thing, but even ghosts aren’t what I thought they were.” I cover my eyes with one hand. “I’m not ready to face the reality of this being hopeless.”
Matthias offers me a small smile when I drag my hand away from my face. “You think Kit has a soul to be restored?”
“I do. When he possessed me, we got close. He’s not…he’s not a bad guy. He’s actually great, and this spell could bring him back to life.”
Matthias crosses his arms and gives a few big, slow nods. “Cool. I’m on board.”
I scoff. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“And you…” I trail off, unsure how to ask this without offending him.
