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The Dolls(61)

By:Kiki Sullivan


For a moment, nothing happens. Then I hear a click, and one of the doors opens a crack. Musty air escapes in a whoosh, and I drop my stone and reach for the handle, my heart racing in anticipation as I push it open.

As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I realize the room is exactly as it appears in my dreams—except now enormous spans of cobwebs hang from the chandeliers, and the mirrored walls are covered with a film of dust and smoke so thick that the images blinking back at me are dark and hazy. Candles still stand, half melted and covered in dust, on big candelabras.

I walk across the room to the spot where I’ve seen my toddler self standing in my dreams. I bend to touch the floor, and as I do, I can see a huge, dark stain on the hardwood. It vanishes as soon as I pull my hand away. A chill sweeps through me, and I turn around slowly to find Boniface looking at me. “This is blood, isn’t it?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says sadly.

“Whose?” I ask. But the look on his face tells me all I need to know. “My mom’s?” I ask in disbelief. “But she died miles from here. Didn’t she?”

Boniface frowns. “Eveny, I really think you should wait until your aunt comes home. She’ll explain everything.”

“If she’d wanted to explain,” I say, “she would have already.” I clench and unclench my fists. “Are there herbs that will let me see what happened in this room?”

“Eveny, your aunt will be furious with me,” he says.

“Please!” I exclaim. “I promise, I’ll tell Aunt Bea you tried to stop me. I deserve to know what happened.”

“Yes, I suppose you do.” He crosses the room and stands in front of the bookcase for a moment before pulling a narrow, leather-bound volume from the shelf. He flips through it, seems to find what he’s looking for, and returns to me. “I believe peppermint leaves and flax seed will call the past into focus.”

“What’s that book?”

“Your mother’s herb journal. It’s only half complete, but she took notes on herbs and charms that worked particularly well for her. It’s yours now.” He hands it to me. “I hope this is the right thing. Good luck. But I can’t be here for this,” he says as he walks out of the room.

I put the journal down on the coffee table and take a deep breath. I again call on Eloi Oke to open the gate, then, with my left ring finger on my Stone of Carrefour, I invoke peppermint and flax and ask the spirits to show me what happened here. As the wind picks up, the candles around me flicker suddenly on, their flames growing and shrinking like the room itself is breathing. Suddenly, all of the flames go out, and we’re plunged into blackness. I hear the faintest of whispers, a woman’s voice saying, “It shall be.”

When the candles flicker on again, the cobwebs are gone and the parlor looks entirely different. It’s just like it was fourteen years ago, just like it has looked in my nightmares the last few weeks. Suddenly, three figures appear in the middle of the floor. They’re hazy at first, but they quickly materialize, and I gasp as I recognize my mother and younger versions of Peregrine’s and Chloe’s mothers. All three are dressed in long, gauzy gowns that catch the candlelight and make them look like ethereal fairies.

“Mom!” I cry and take a step forward. The women don’t hear me, though, and when I reach out to touch my mother, my hand goes right through her. It’s like I’m watching a projected image on a movie screen.

The three mothers begin to chant and dance, and then the candles flicker out again. I hear a panicky voice ask, “What just happened?” I’m pretty sure it’s Chloe’s mother.

Another voice—Peregrine’s mom—replies shakily, “I don’t know. It must have been the wind.”

Then there are heavy footsteps and the sound of something sliding. “Who’s there?” says a voice I recognize as my mother’s. Hearing her after all this time pierces my heart.

There’s silence for a few seconds, then a pealing scream and a soft thudding sound before footsteps retreat and a door slams. A moment later, the overhead light flickers on, and I see Peregrine’s mother near the light switch, blinking into the sudden illumination. “Sandrine!” she cries.

I follow her eyes to see my mother lying with her neck sliced open in a rapidly spreading pool of her own blood.

I sob uncontrollably as the rest of the scene unfolds. Peregrine’s and Chloe’s moms are screaming. Chloe’s mom tries to revive my mother, but she’s drifting in and out of consciousness. “We have to go get Bea,” Peregrine’s mother says.