"I've got it! The pendant and the name were all I needed!"
I rubbed my eyes, trying in vain to lift my head from the pillow. Amy sounded awfully awake for my muddled brain.
"You found the ritual?"
"Did I wake you up? Oh, my, sorry, Fran!"
"It's okay. Can I call you back in ten?"
"Sure, sure."
It was eight-thirty on a gray cold morning. I kicked myself out of bed, crawled into my winter sweatpants and a baggy turtleneck sweater that fell down to my knees, tied my hair up in a ponytail and felt ready to go back to bed. Instead, I dragged my feet all the way down to the kitchen.
Susan and Mike wouldn't come until nine, so I had a little while to make my breakfast in the quiet stillness of the house. Before cooking, I went to the east parlor. The cat ball flashed right away.
"Morning, Ann, Lizzie. Amy seems to have good news and I'm about to call her, but Mike and Susan are coming any minute now. I'm wondering where we can get together away from them, so you guys can take part in the conversation. The guesthouse?"
"Study," said the phone app.
The last thing I felt like doing was making at least two trips to the third floor, in order to take my breakfast and all my devices up to the study, but they were right: it was a good place to stay away from Susan's earshot. I cooked watching the news, with the hope that the anchors' nonstop chattering would help me wake fully up. It sort of worked. Sort of.
For the first time ever, I was glad to see the Collins arrive ten minutes earlier. They agreed to stay on the first floor until I came back down from the study and I started carrying everything upstairs. I hated every minute of it, but once I settled in one of the loveseats with a woolen blanket covering my legs, a steamy mug, and breakfast laid on the coffee table, I felt perfectly comfy.
The Blotters didn't need my devices to talk with Amy, but I set the tablets on the other loveseats, in case they wanted to use them.
Amy picked up right away. She was beaming as usual, and her news left me speechless: she'd actually found the ritual, and also a way to break the spell Price's witch had cast to chain Kujo. She felt confident she could perform the counterspell with a little help.
"Meaning we don't need to call on the TV cavalry?" I asked, trying to hide that I felt a little disappointed.
"I can perform the counter-spell, but I can't work miracles, Fran."
"Oh."
"Tell Amy about your last call with Price, Fran," said Edward.
"You talked with him again?" asked Amy.
"Well, he gave me the name of the witch, right?"
She narrowed her eyes for a moment and then giggled, nodding.
"Not polite, talking to her like that about me," I grumbled.
"I'm sorry," said Lizzie. If it'd been her, I could make an educated guess about what she'd told Amy.
"Tell me about the call, Fran," she asked softly.
So I did, and what I still thought was a good idea to lure him to do what we needed of him, now that we were positive we did need him. It was pretty simple. I would ask him to help us in exchange for authorization to document the whole cleansing process and Kujo's release. With only one condition: that he came alone, not with his whole circus.
"D'you think it can work?" I asked.
"Absolutely. If we sell it the right way, he's gonna fall for it without hesitation." She raised her eyebrows. "The only problem is his parasites. He needs to be clean before even setting foot in the Manor, and ridding him of those nasty things will take at least three cleansings."
"He would have to stay here," said Joseph.
"I'm afraid we would need to keep him isolated and as close to the Manor as possible, to make sure he doesn't go around picking up new attachments before we perform the ritual."
"He can stay in the guesthouse," I said. "Would you guys be okay with it?"
"Yes."
"Of course."
"Three days in advance," I repeated, to make sure I'd gotten it right.
"At least. Let's say five, to be on the safe side. If it takes shorter, the better."
"You should talk to him about this, to answer all his questions and objections."
"You're the Manor's keeper."
I huffed, already blushing like a frigging idiot. "He's gonna play charming on me and I ain't gonna be able to say no to him."
"Oh, my, that serious?"
"It's just a celeb crush, Amy. I'm pretty sure that spending more than five minutes with the old man is gonna dissipate any stupid butterflies in my stomach."
"Old man? I'm older than him!"
"Ouch."
We finished the last details of our plan and disconnected. I lingered in the study a whole hour longer, just enjoying the warm cozy loveseat, the last of my breakfast and the beautiful sight of the first fall rain out the window. Before heading back downstairs, to let Susan work on the second floor, I texted the cunning old charmer.
"My medium needs to talk to you. When can we call you?"
I didn't expect him to reply so early, and he didn't. To keep myself distracted from the phone, I decided to drive all the way to Barre, the town northeast of the Manor, outrageous twenty minutes away. If I was about to host the rockstar of ghost hunting, I couldn't welcome him in my sweatpants and my old sweaters, right? I wasn't looking for anything flashy, but it'd been about a year since I'd last bought any new clothes, and it wouldn't hurt my finances to get a new pair of denims and a couple of flannels, to stay true to rural Hardwick fashion.
I was back home before noon. The rain kept Mike from working in the garden, and I found him having tea in the Manor kitchen while Susan moved around upstairs like a frigging tornado.
"I think we're gonna need to open the guesthouse, Mike," I said, signaling him to not interrupt his break. "You know, the TV shooting Miss Grace left scheduled for the 20."
"Oh, yes, you told Dr. Jenkins you would move over there to let them shoot here."
Eavesdropping on me, were you? I didn't correct him. There would be time for that. "How many days in advance to have it ready?"
"Two tops. Don't worry, Miss, we'll do it."
"What about the internet? I definitely need it installed by then."
"They said they were coming this week."
"Great. It's Tuesday already. Maybe you should call to remind them?"
"I will, Miss."
"Thank you."
After lunch, the weight of the date caught up with me. So I asked for a bodyguard and headed downstairs with Joseph and my laptop. He didn't try to stop me when I sat with my back against the wall, not a step away from the dark corner, without the LED beam in between. I opened my laptop and searched for the folder where I kept Mom's pictures.
"Don't do this," said the phone app.
"Was that you, Kujo?" I asked.
"Yes."
"It's okay, my boy. I already told you I can't help being sad this time of the year, so I might as well use it to get you as healthy and strong as I can. You'll be free soon, Kujo, and you need all your strength to go find yourself a new home." I opened a picture and nodded to the screen. "Let me show you. This is Mom fifteen years ago, when we moved to Boston. That was our apartment. You wouldn't like it, cause it was always full of daylight. But she loved it."
Going through those pictures and talking about each of them was super sad, yes, but it turned out to be also so cathartic. I cried and I chuckled, recalling this or that moment. And when I closed the last picture, I felt clean inside. The pain was still there, of course, it would never go away. But it was hued by all those happy memories.
I left the laptop on the floor and rested my head against the wall in silence, closing my eyes with a heartfelt sigh. And I clearly felt the air was warmer to my left, on the corner's side. The warmth brushed the edge of my hand and I stretched it out, palm up.
"You can hold it," I whispered.
Kujo did, like a hot glove wrapping around my fingers, and we remained like that for a couple of minutes, until I heard a faint shuffle from my other side. I dropped my hand and sat up, opening my eyes. Plain to see Joseph didn't like it, and I didn't want to upset him.
"Gotta go now. Hope I'll be bringing good news tomorrow."
"Don't be sad."
"You help me deal with it, my friend. Thank you."
"Take care. Of her."
I frowned. Who was he talking about?
"You."
I turned to the corner, frowning deeper. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You can read minds?" The shuffle sounded like Kujo was retreating away from me. "Hey, it's okay. I just asked cause I think it's awesome! So you were talking to Joseph about me?"
"Yes."
I chuckled, standing up. "You're something special, Kujo! I'm glad we got to know you."
"They're not."
"Never mind. I am. Night, Kujo. Wish me luck."
Back upstairs, I hurried to grab one of the tablets and asked Joseph to take all the time he needed to tell me what he'd observed downstairs. The rest of the Blotters joined us in the east parlor.
With Lizzie's help to type longer and faster, Joseph described what he called an odd moment. Since Kujo had a way to make my emotional energy visible, Joseph was able to see my sadness as a gray mist and my positive emotions as sparks. The most remarkable thing was that Kujo put all the sadness in a sort of heap in the corner, and tried to eat the sparks. While listening to me and looking at the pictures I was showing him. The sparks seemed to choke him, but he tried anyway. In the end, he turned to the pile of sadness he'd collected and sank his head in it, like an animal drinking from a pond. That seemed to help him overcome the choking, and he went back to sit by my side and held my hand, keeping very still until I sat up.
That blew my mind, and I think theirs too. We agreed we needed to ask Amy about it, but everything seemed to point to Kujo trying to change his diet, from negative to positive vibes. Which was absolutely amazing, never mind he'd failed. The simple fact that he'd tried, because he didn't like to see me sad, according to Joseph. That alone was incredible.
Not to mention that he could read my mind! Well, come to think about it, maybe it wasn't so out there. Parasites do manipulate their host's feelings and moods to get their fix. So maybe it was only natural they read minds. Right?
Jeez. Four months earlier, the weirdest thing in my life was Trisha's goth friends. Now I was pondering about mind-reading half-breed demons like it was coffee brands.
Speaking of which.
On my way to refill my coffee mug, I happened to check my phone and found Price's text. Ignoring I'd used the plural we, he'd replied that I could call him about nine. The cunning bastard. I texted Amy to let her know the time he'd picked, and confirmed we would call him then.
It was still raining by eight-thirty, and really cold, so I packed my devices in my backpack after dinner and sprinted across the garden to the guesthouse. It was cold too, without any heating, but at least it wasn't out in the rain, so I zipped up my winter jacket, set my devices around my laptop on the coffee table, connected my computer to my phone's internet and called Amy. I asked Joseph to tell her about Kujo, and we were all excited talking about it when Price showed up.
He didn't seem to dig the meeting call, but he was civil enough to nod with a quick smile when I introduced him to Amy. I let her do the talking, because I was there only as the liaison, and noticed Edward was typing on his tablet. I leaned in toward it, but before I could read the first word, I heard Price talking to me.
"This is what you want, Fran?"
"Come again?" I asked, facing the laptop again. "Sorry, I didn't hear what you guys just said."
"Miss Taylor says this is the only way you will authorize a shoot on the scheduled date." He sounded irritated.
"I'm afraid so, Mr. Price. You're the only one that can help me restore the Manor. But it's a sensitive process, and we cannot afford the risk of thwarting it by having two dozen people around." I grimaced, trying to play damsel in distress. "Please, say yes. You know I really need your help."
He looked down with a serious frown, like consulting with his soul, or maybe his dozen parasites. I decided the damsel in distress should press a little further.
"I've been watching your show," I said, as gently as I could. "And you guys never had an episode like this would be. I think you could actually use it as a season finale like you wanted. Just a different one."
He looked up, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah, that's for sure. But there's no way I can get good footage if I'm all by myself with you two."
"You can bring one assistant with you," said Amy, taking me aback.
Price tilted his head, pursing his lips. "Okay, that would be Isaac. He could man the cameras."
"Cameras? Plural?" asked Amy, like a teacher about to send a student to detention.
"Yes, ma'am, plural. At least three."
Amy huffed, considering whether to let the student off the hook scot-free. "Okay. But whoever you bring needs to be cleansed too."
"No problem, we can be there earlier. A couple of hours would do, right?"
"A couple of days."
"Come again?"
I let them haggle over that, too, and tried to read what Edward had written. Once again, the moment I tried to divert my attention, Price addressed me.
"So you can accommodate us both in the Manor grounds for three days, Fran?"
"Make it four," said Amy. "Actually five would be better."
"I'm a busy man, Miss Taylor. I'm not sure I can clear three days to go along with your famous plan."
"Didn't you tell Dr. Jenkins you would spend three days shooting here?" I asked, in the most innocent tone I could manage.
His face was a neon sign that read Et tu, Brutus. He snorted, definitely pissed off, and nodded.
"Then you can take two more days," said Amy. "I think you owe Fran that much."
He ground his teeth as to keep himself from replying, breathed deep and nodded again.
"Fine," he grunted. "Let me see." He seemed to check something on his phone. "Then we need to get this started on the 18. And be done by the 23 tops. I can't waste any more time on this."
"Waste!" Amy repeated, taking offense for me. "A waste of time, fixing a mess of your own making? Shame on you!"
"It's okay, Amy," I said, honey and silk. I liked playing good cop-bad cop with her. "Mr. Price said he's coming, and he's giving me and the Manor five days, even being so busy. It's more than enough."
Price flashed a quick smile with an equally quick nod. "I'm glad you understand the situation, Fran."
Amy huffed and grimaced before nodding too with a shrug. "Okay. Then you're coming on the 18, with your friend Isaac and all his parasites and yours. Bring three changes of white clothes, including socks and underwear."
"Come again? White clothes?"
I covered my mouth to muffle a giggle. Amy wanted the rockstars to wear white? That was gonna be fun. Amy and Price kept arguing and haggling over every single detail until the end of the call. But he had to go down swinging, and said goodnight to me with a wink.
"See you in a week, Fran."
"Goodnight, Mr. Price," I mumbled, fighting a fair fight to keep from catching fire.
The moment he disconnected, I was able to read Edward's words: "He thinks he can manipulate you to fit his will." Yeah, what's new. And then I registered his last words.
"Wait! A week from now?"
Amy nodded, rolling her eyes. "Meaning I have to be there this weekend," she replied. "And if he's bringing a friend over, we need help, Fran. I can't cleanse them both at the same time, and that's the only way to prevent the parasites from jumping trains from one to the other. They need to be removed at the same time."
"You're bringing a friend too?"
"I don't trust anybody enough to let them meet the Blotters and keep their mouth shut about it. This is a tight circle, and if I bring any of my friends, you're gonna have a line of mediums out your door within a week, all of them begging for a chance to do a walk of the Manor."
"Then what're you gonna do?"
"Don't you have a friend that could lend us a hand?"
"You're the only medium I know, and only because Trisha connected us."
"Oh, Trisha! She could do."
"You wanna bring Trisha and teach her to perform a decent cleansing over the weekend?"
"What? No, it's you I'm teaching, but we're gonna need somebody to assist us."
"What? Are you high or something? I can't perform a cleansing!"
"Of course you can! You just told me a half-breed demon is trying to eat light to please you! Okay, gotta go now. If I'm spending a week at the Manor, I need to reschedule my whole calendar. See you on Friday, dear. Take care. Goodnight, Blotters."