"I think this might be a bad idea," I warn Thomas as I push open the door to Cas' house. He mumbles a retort that sounds suspiciously like 'You're a bad idea' as he sets his rucksack down on the floor. Barely twenty four hours after our last confrontation with the murderer in the attic, he has this so-called plan to get Cas to spill his secrets. Read 'plan' as 'suicide mission'.
"I heard that," he says, setting up the spell, putting down a mirror and positioning stones of some kind in a circle. Note to self- learn to block the mind reading. It's getting annoying.
"You know," Thomas continues, "I'm not even that good of a mind reader. You just think really, really loudly. You ever come across a psychic ghost, you're screwed. No offence," he adds quickly, "you just make what's in your head really obvious." I look at him.
"If I think loudly, does that mean you'd be able to tell what I was dreaming?" Falling asleep in class with a witch around was not one of the cleverest things I've done. My dreams are one area I definitely don't want anyone poking around in, because more often than not, they're a link to what was and what should never be again. What can never be, I remind myself. I'm not twelve anymore. I'm not that girl anymore. She's gone.
Three people, not two, died that night.
"No," says Thomas, much to my relief. He sets down the last of the stones and stands up. "Dreams are, like, really weird. They come in flashes, if I see them at all, and they never make sense. They only have meaning for the person who's dreaming. Why d'you ask?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter." And I say that in my head, over and over, until both of us believe it. "So what do we do now?"
"We summon Cas." Oh, brilliant. Summon the ghost who tried to kill us both. Well, not both, exactly. But close enough.
"Remind me why we're doing this?"
"Because if we know how he died, it might make killing him a bit easier." Or I could just go upstairs and stab him...
"But how do we summon him? And won't he just try to kill you again?"
"No, not if we have him contained. What do you think we're using this spell for?" How should I know? Witchcraft is not my area of expertise. If I need to know about a ghost, I research them in the nearest library or on the Internet. Sometimes I talk to them, if they're calm enough to make sense. I would never just kill a ghost without knowing the facts, but I've steered clear of this sort of thing because of... well, witchcraft and I have history, for which I have my mother to thank. I used to watch her use it for bad things, and she said I was a disappointment because I didn't want to. Well, it's me who's alive now, so maybe what goes around really does come around.
If that's the case, what I forced to go around is due back any day now, most likely in the form of my torture and eventual murder by a ghost. Perhaps I'd rather not believe in karma, then.
"Ready?" Thomas asks.
"No. Get on with it." He lights the candles.
"We really need more people for this," he mutters. "You'll have to hold hands with yourself." I roll my eyes but clasp my hands together. "Now start chanting." Four words in Latin, over and over. I open my eyes and there he is. Cas. Floating down the stairs. No, that's not right- more like he's being pulled. He looks almost scared.
"Anna," he says softly, "please." I keep chanting. "Anna! I don't want to hurt him!"
"You won't," Thomas tells him. Cas is being pulled closer and closer towards me, feet a few centimetres above the ground. He has to come into the circle- that is, he comes closer to me. With a jolt, I realise that for him to be in the circle, I'll basically be holding him in my arms.
Looks like I'm about to learn how it feels to hug a ghost.