Beneath An Ivy Moon (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 4) (15 page)

“Could that have been curls that you saw?” Autumn asked us.

“Maybe,” Cypress said.

Bran took a candle over to the desk in the corner and rooted around for a moment. He walked over with a pad of paper. “Here, sketch out your impressions of the clothes.”

“I’m no artist.” Autumn made a face. “That’s Marie’s territory.”

“Gimme.” Marie held out her hand for the pad. Quickly she took the pad. She set it on the coffee table for everyone to see, scooted a pillar candle closer for better light, and began to sketch.

“Dome shape skirt.” Autumn gestured with her hands.

Marie nodded and made the skirt fuller. Next she sketched slim sleeves. “Impressions of a neckline?”

“Wide,” I said, making a curving motion across my collar bones.

Cypress studied the sketch. “Make the neckline higher, Aunt Marie.”

Marie altered the sketch. “How’s this?” she asked, adding curly long hair to the blank faced figure.

My stomach gave a little flip as Marie finished the little sketch. “That’s pretty close.”

“It is,” Cypress agreed.

Aunt Faye cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. “Ivy, would I be correct in saying that neither you nor Cypress has displayed any talent for spirit communication before this incident?”

“No ma’am,” Cypress said.

I took my time answering, and decided not to reveal that I’d heard my mother’s voice before the tornado had struck. For now I wanted to keep that private. “I’ve seen Grandma Rose here in the manor twice, once when we found the second part of the grimoire, and when she made her big show with the entire family. But each time it was only because Autumn was holding my hand and lending me some of her power— to help me out.”

“Ivy, you said something similar before...” Cypress frowned as she tried to remember. “Like how the storm had lent the spirit power...”

“Yeah,” I recalled. “I thought the entity was pulling juice from the storm to manifest.” I fell silent.
Was that how mom had gotten her message through? Had she used the power of the approaching storm to communicate with me?

Nathan, who’d stayed quiet up until now, leaned forward in his chair and took the pad to study the sketch. “That’s actually a sound paranormal theory,” he said. “Hauntings often are more intense during electric storms.”

“That must be how the entity was able to appear to the girls,” Aunt Faye said.

“It would make sense that there was a more vivid manifestation,” Bran said. “Due to the severity of the storm.”

Aunt Faye stood, and we all fell silent. “The question that we need to be asking is why now?” she said. “What happened recently that made this entity appear and with such ominous warnings of calamity?”

I shifted my gaze to Nathan. “You know that this has to be linked to the skeleton that they found on campus a few weeks ago.”

“Classically, hauntings do begin when remains have been disturbed,” Nathan agreed.

Autumn hugged her knees closer to her chest. “Nathan, you were there the day the archeologist was badly injured on the dig. You witnessed what happened to her.”

“Yes,” Nathan said, sitting calmly. He seemed unconcerned that the group’s focus was now centered on him.

Rene leaned forward and directed his attention to Nathan. “What did happen exactly?”

“The ground caved in under her when she went to remove the human remains from the site. As I told Autumn, it was the strangest thing I’d ever seen, and the injury was serious.”

“Why did they remove the remains?” Cypress asked.

“For analysis,” Nathan said patiently.

“It’s a standard practice,” Autumn added.

“I found out this afternoon,” Nathan said. “They’ve determined the bones had been buried for over one hundred years.” He focused on me. “I also heard from Dr. Wallis, the head archeologist on the dig, that the M.E. had concluded that the remains were
female.
The approximate age at death being late-twenties to early thirties.”

“Female.” Autumn nodded at Nathan. “I knew it.”

“How would you possibly know that?” I asked her.

“I saw the bones when they brought them into the museum. The shape of the skeleton’s pelvis,” Autumn explained. “It was more oval shaped— which usually denotes a female.”

“Correct.” Nathan smiled at Autumn.

“I thought you didn’t do bones?” I said to Autumn.

“That’s fairly common knowledge,” Nathan explained.

“So, female remains,” Marie said, trying to get the conversation back on track, “over one hundred years old.” Marie tapped her pencil against the sketch. “This type of fashion was typical of the mid 1800s. It’s starting to come together.”

“I have some other information from the dig site that is important,” Nathan said.

Autumn raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“There was a high concentration of carbon in the soil. Pieces of charcoal were present,” Nathan said.

“Carbon and charcoal?” I asked him.

“Ash,” Nathan answered. “From a fire. It means the house probably burned down so that only the stone foundation remained. As the remains were found in the stone cellar, we think that the person— woman may have been trapped. The bones weren’t burned so the current theory is that she died from the smoke.”

Cypress shuddered. “And she was just
left
there. That’s horrible.”

Nathan shrugged. “That’s the working theory at the moment.” He sat back. “Also there were some more pieces found at the site this week,” he said. “Utensils, probably silver, a few pewter pieces and an unusual bracelet.”

My stomach rolled over. “What kind of bracelet?” I asked him.

“Silver,” Nathan said. “With carved coral beads and a crescent moon shaped charm.”

“Hmm,” Autumn said. “Coral jewelry was common and popular during the 1700s and 1800s.”

“I’ve seen a very similar design before,” Nathan said quietly. “That’s why I found this so unusual.”

“Really?” I said. “Where had you seen the design before?”

“My grandmother owns a piece of jewelry very comparable to it,” Nathan said. “The bracelet has been handed down over the generations through the Osbornes— my mother’s side of the family.”

I blinked. “The Salem Village, Osbornes?”

“Yes,” Nathan said.

My stomach tightened, and my intuition had me blurting out words before I thought it over. “You suspect that the remains found on campus were of a Witch, don’t you?”

At my words, everyone in the room went very quiet. Nathan sat back, regarding me seriously. “Yes, I
do
think she was a Witch,” he said.

Cypress gasped. “The entity seemed almost offended when we used magick to banish her.”

Nathan nodded to Cypress, then turned to me. “Anything else?”

“She called us her
sisters
,” I told him, “said we were not her enemy, that we were of
the blood
. Maybe she meant Witch blood?”

Cypress leaned forward. “Is that why she appeared to
us
, because we are Witches?”

“Maybe...” Autumn said, giving me a nudge. “Maybe it was because you were there when they first found her skull, Ivy.”

I had to swallow around the fear that had suddenly risen in my throat. “Terrific,” I said.

CHAPTER NINE

The next few days passed quickly. The tornado made national news, a few buildings in town had been damaged, and many large trees were uprooted or had broken during the storm. The sounds of chainsaws in the neighborhood and on campus were constant while the town cleaned up. The local meteorologists announced it was an EF2 tornado. There had been several minor injuries, and only one fatality— Jessica. The campus held a candlelight vigil for her, and some reporter from the local paper had gone to Jessica’s home town in central Missouri and covered her funeral.

I didn’t know how many of the girls from the dorm had attended, but neither Cypress nor I had. We faced enough questions ranging from the curious to the ghoulish from students on campus— as word had gotten out that we’d been the ones to find her. A few days after the storm we were able to retrieve most of our personal items from the dorm, but the building needed structural repair and would not be available to live in for several weeks.

I moved back in the manor temporarily, and Cypress moved back in with Marie to their spacious apartment above the Tattoo Shop. My father and step-mother surprised me and drove down from Iowa to come and visit. My dad had hugged me hard when he’d first arrived, which made me realize that he’d been really worried. They stayed for a few days and then headed west to go and see Holly. I appreciated the effort my father had made, knowing my stepmother was not particularly comfortable with my family’s legacy of magick.

I contacted Holly after the storm, thinking perhaps
that’s
why she’d told me to be safe... and of course I wanted to share with her that I’d gotten a message from Mom. I never got the chance to tell her. She’d barely spoken to me over the phone. Claimed she was happy to hear that I was okay, but that she couldn’t talk as she was busy with her honors society. Surprised and hurt by the brush off, I sat and blinked at my phone for a few moments. I missed her so much, and I wanted to talk to her about hearing mom’s voice. It hurt to be disconnected from my twin for so long. At least, it was painful for me.

I woke up surprisingly early on my first Saturday morning after moving back home. I rolled over, blinking at the soft, October light coming in through the curved windows of the turret. Holly and I had taken my mother’s old room over before Morgan was born, and I felt closer to my mother here.

A set of celestial fabric cushions decorated the curved window seats within the turret. The room boasted a round sitting area, and the family’s books on the Craft were arranged on the far wall. A little loveseat covered in white, and a round, marble topped table stood centered in the space. The table had been used as an altar— my mother’s magickal work surface for as long as I could remember.

Even though it had been fun living with Cypress in the dorm... I was relieved to be away from all the paranormal weirdness that had been happening on campus. I was so very happy to be living back at home that it surprised me. Which made me wonder if maybe I should
stay
at the manor and commute to school. I didn’t have to move back to Crowly Hall once the repairs were finished.

My bedroom door clicked open, and I saw Merlin’s black tail held high as he trotted over to my bed. He jumped up and walked straight across my side to perch on my hip. I rolled over to my back, and he promptly made himself comfortable on my chest. He leaned down and stared into my eyes.

“Hey Merlin,” I sighed.

Meow?
He reached out and batted the tip of my nose.

I pulled Merlin in for a cuddle, and he allowed it. Sprawling across my chest, he tucked his head against my jaw. He stayed and purred loudly in my ear for a while. When he started to head-butt me, I knew it was time to get up. I staggered to the en-suite bathroom with Merlin trailing behind.

A short time later, with Merlin as my morning escort, I picked up my phone from the nightstand, tucked it in my pocket of my pajama pants and shuffled my way down the back stairs and into the kitchen. I went straight to the fridge and hooked a can of soda. Without a word I plopped into the chair at the kitchen table.

“Ivy!” Morgan waved to me from his high chair. This morning he was eating a cut up banana and Cheerios.

I made the supreme sacrifice and spoke nicely to my nephew. “Hi baby,” I said, and proceeded with my morning ritual: chugging the caffeine as fast as humanly possible.

Lexie sat supervising her son’s breakfast, wearing baggy gray shorts and a pink t-shirt. She’d left her dark blonde hair down today, and didn’t even flinch when I burped. Morgan, on the other hand, clapped and kicked his feet in delight.

“That’s better,” I said, patting my belly.

“Class,” Lexie said with a straight face. “Girl, you have such class.”

“You know it,” I sighed.

“Why are you up so early?” Lexie asked as she snatched Morgan’s toddler cup before he could throw it.

“Beats me.”

“Holly called Bran last night,” Lexie said casually.

I tried to act nonchalant, but inside all my muscles were locked down tight. “That’s interesting. I called her the other day, and she barely even spoke to me.” I tried not to be hurt by the news, but it did sting. “At least she’s talking to
someone
in the family.”

Lexie lifted Morgan out of his high chair and set him on her hip. “I sat up with Bran for hours last night after Holly called. He’s still worried about her, and how she’s cut herself off from the family for so long.”

“Does she hate us so much, then?” I asked Lexie, and to my humiliation my voice shook.

Lexie ran a hand down my arm. “I don’t think she
hates
anyone. I think she’s punishing herself.”

I studied Lexie and Morgan. The toddler was uncharacteristically quiet. “What do you mean?”

“Holly is still frightened about not being able to control her magick, and she wrongly feels responsible for your mother’s car accident.” Lexie sighed. “As if it was a karmic payback from when she used magick to harm another.”

I shook my head. “I think she’s ashamed of us. Of the legacy of magick. That’s why she chose a school that was clear across the state, and it’s why she finds excuses not to come back home.”

“No,” Lexie said, “you’re wrong. Holly isn’t ashamed of us— she’s terrified
for
us. Because of that she stopped practicing her Craft completely. Leaving William’s Ford and going someplace new made her feel safe. It removes any temptation to work magick either with the family, or by herself.”

“It almost sounds like you’re describing an addict.”

Lexie placed her hand on my shoulder. “Bran and I believe that Holly’s anxiety over losing control again is very real. Holly’s greatest fear is that she will turn completely to the dark path of magick. That she won’t be able to stop herself.”

It made me flinch in my chair to hear that said out loud. “Do you think that will happen?”