The Wisp, Chapter Two, Part Two

The Wisp 

(cont.)

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Amy said.  

She gave Bara a confused look. Bara stood up and looked around, but there wasn’t anyone or anything to see. Except for her and Amy, the stacks were deserted. “Was anyone else down here?” Bara asked. “Maybe they passed you on the stairs?” 

“No? I think it’s just us.”

“Wearing silver and white?”

Amy shrugged.

“I didn’t see anyone.”

“Or someone who maybe looks just like me?”

Amy needed clarification. 

“You mean besides you?” 

“Yes.”

“What a strange question. What’s going on?”

Bara sat back down. 

“I had the oddest dream.”

“Did you dream about him again?” 

Bara smiled guiltily. “Yeah ... but that wasn’t the strange part. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. A woman, I think. I remember smelling her perfume. It was very strong. Floral. You didn’t smell anything like that either?”

Amy shook her head.

“I only caught a glimpse before she disappeared into the stacks,” Bara continued on. “She was flowing ... wispy, with silver hair. I couldn’t find her when I followed, but a book was moved. Then everything became a nightmare. I was attacked by someone who looked just like me, only she had this really big mouth. She tried to eat me.”

Amy laughed. “Freaky! But you want to talk terrifying? I once dreamed that I’d married Professor Chestermire and Patsy Pillanger was our daughter.”

“Okay.” Bara chuckled. “That’s worse.” She bent down and picked up the Hideous Strength from the floor where it had fallen and waved it in front of Amy. “It was next to this.” 

Amy gave her a look that said so-what.

  “Come on,” Bara said. “I’ll show you.” 

She got up and led Amy to the spot. She stopped short. One book, no one had to tell her which, hung off the shelf. Amy came up from behind. She looked at Bara, who stared agog down the aisle, and then noted the one spine out-of-place. 

“You must have moved it yourself,” Amy reasoned.  

“No. No, I didn’t.”

Amy wasn’t convinced. She had no reason to be spooked. She hadn’t had the dream. She brushed past Bara, grabbed the Magician’s Nephew, and held it out. 

“See, just a book.” 

Thud. The volume that had rested next to it toppled face-down to the floor.

“What’s that?” 

Amy looked down. 

“Just another book.”

“It’s something more,” Bara insisted. 

She picked it up and wiped away at the dust. There were five amber pieces on its leather-bound cover, golden-orange ovals about the size of a sand dollar. They encircled a central Celtic cross. Technically amber wasn’t a gem, rather petrified tree sap, but the sheen and cut of this amber were as fine as any diamond. Her fingers traced the circle but stopped before completing the full arc. It was beautiful, almost perfect, except for a missing sixth piece of amber. She held it out for Amy. 

“Wow! Let me see.” 

Bara obliged and passed it over. Amy traced the amber the same way Bara had done. She gave it one more look and handed it back. She picked up the Magician’s Nephew, returned it to the shelf, and headed back to the study carrel. With the found book clasped tightly to her chest, Bara followed. They arrived back at the carrel. Amy grabbed a coffee and croissant. She sat down and began to eat and drink. She noted Bara’s tight grip on the book.

“Well, open it up then.” 

Bara ran her hand along the spine and the pages of the closed book and then cracked it open. The pages were yellowed with age. There was no writing on the first page, just a drawing of the front cover without the missing stone, a perfect circle of six. 

“What’s it called?” Amy asked.

“It doesn’t have a title.” 

Bara turned another jaundiced page. She shivered a full body shiver and held up the book so Amy could see what was drawn on the second page, a five-pointed star within a circle. 

Amy choked on a mouthful of coffee.

“No way! Let’s put it back where we found it? This reminds me a little too much of the start of a horror movie.” 

Bara gave her a blank look. 

“The walls are bleeding and the house is screaming I know what you did last summer,” Amy mocked nervously.

Bara shook her head. 

“The circle and the star are a protection against evil.” 

Amy wasn’t convinced.

“It’s a bit much for me, dreams and black magic books. Leave it on a shelf and some other unlucky sap can find it.”

Bara ignored the suggestion and flipped another stiff page. She read out loud.

Dear Clâvigen,

You have found this book and were destined to do so. The responsibility is now yours. You must slay and cage the evil. Beware. She will come in the guise of beauty and kindness. Be not a fool. There is no goodness in her heart. The demon is a trickster. Let her not trick you. The gift of the ages she offers is a living coffin. Put her in hers before she puts you in yours.

                         May you meet with more success than I,

                        Nelson Sedgewick

“Nelson Sedgewick? Doesn’t he have a portrait upstairs?”  

        Bara nodded. “He donated a lot of money to the library. This must be his diary or something.”

“What does he mean Clâvigen?” 

“Clâvigen? I think it’s French. He says we need to slay and cage the evil. Maybe that has something to do with it.”

“Slay, hey? I don’t know about you, Buffy, but I don’t want to be a slayer or whatever a Clâvigen is … or isn’t.”

“It doesn’t sound like we have a choice.”

“Come on!” Amy scoffed. “This guy was just a nutcase.”

“Then I’m nuts too. Something weird is going on. Seriously. My dream led me to this.”

Amy took a moment to think

“Maybe … when did this Sedgewick die?”

Professor Chestermire had talked about the library’s history, another example of Bara getting him off topic.

“About sixteen years ago,” she told Amy. 

“Do you really think this book has been lying on the shelf for that long, just waiting for you to dream your dream?”

“How should I know? All I know is he says I was destined to find it. Or we were?”

Amy still looked unconvinced. Bara tried harder.

“Someone or something led me to it.”

Amy opened her eyes very wide.

“Maybe it was Sedgewick’s ghost?” 

“Ghosts?” Bara echoed.

“I don’t know. Dream visions, so why not ghosts?”

“Maybe it was a ghost, but not Sedgewick. It was a woman.  She was all wispy. A wisp … like a will-o-wisp.” 

“A wisp?”

“Do you have a better name?" 

“No,” Amy replied. “But there’s also your nightmare double to consider.” 

“Yeah,” Bara agreed. Dreams say something about your inner-psyche. What does being eaten by your own face means?”

“You wear too much candied lip-gloss?” Amy offered. 

She laughed. Bara didn’t. After a beat, Amy sighed. 

“Sometimes dreams are just dreams. You shouldn’t always read into them.” 

Amy was making light, but she didn’t have a good feeling about any of it. The dream was freaky. She had to admit. But the diary? As much as Bara was drawn to it, she was repulsed. Get rid of it, her instincts told her. An idea came to her head. “It belongs to the library, right?” 

Bara closed the cover and turned it over. 

“There are no call numbers.”

“Maybe it’s part of the rare books collection? They don’t put call numbers on those.”

“It’s rare for sure. We should take it back to the dorm.”  

“We should turn it in to the library, “ Amy insisted. “We did find it on the shelf. Then we’ll be done with this nonsense. Don’t you think?”

Bara looked down and thought, no, I don’t think. She wanted to keep the diary even if it were part of the rare book collection but didn’t get a chance to respond. 

“Let’s go!” Amy grabbed her bag and headed for the stairs. Bara went to argue, but Amy had already disappeared into the floor above. Reluctantly, Bara put her own bag over her shoulder, grabbed the Hideous Strength, and followed. 

     

     Amy was at the back of the checkout line when Bara reached the foyer. At the desk, Ms. Korey had her head down, busily signing out books. The streak of silver in her otherwise black hair swayed back and forth in the dim light. She paused and tucked it neatly behind one ear. Bara tried to put Amy off.

“Ms. Korey looks busy. Let’s show it to her tomorrow.”  

“We can wait,” Amy returned.

She maintained her focus on the checkout. Bara held back. She looked through the glass doors and to the square. An exiting patron in a black hood came through the revolving entrance doors and outside came in. A gust of wind, along with a few leaves, blew across the marble floor. Gone was the sunny fall day. The sky was now grey and it was raining. The door opened and closed again, more wind, more leaves. Looking back at Ms. Korey and then down at the diary, Bara felt an increased unwillingness to give it up. She actually thought about making a run for it, but it was too late. The last remaining patron was served.

 Amy took hold of her shoulder and gestured Bara toward the counter. Ms. Korey put out her hand. Bara placed the diary cover down in her open palm. Ms. Korey took the book automatically and scanned the spine. There was no telltale beep. She turned it over and looked at the cover. Her grey eyes widened and then narrowed. “Where did you find this?” she asked.

Amy went to speak but Bara broke in. Her glance had stolen to the portrait of Nelson Sedgewick and inspiration hit. 

“Oops! That’s my Dad’s. Here, I meant to take out this.” 

She placed the Hideous Strength on the counter and then a little too eagerly took the diary from Ms. Korey’s loose grip. She slipped it into her bag. Amy made to protest. The weight of Bara’s foot landing on her own stopped her. Ms. Korey stared at her empty hand. Bara waited for her to challenge the lie. She didn’t. Instead she reached for the Hideous Strength 

“Your father’s book is very special,” she said. “Take very good care of it. It would be a tragedy if it were lost.” 

Ms. Korey finished signing out the Hideous Strength and placed it on the counter. Bara put it in her bag alongside the diary. She mumbled a thank you and motioned to Amy that they should go. They almost reached the glass doors. 

“Oh, Bara,” Ms. Korey called. “What’s the book about?” 

There was a long pause as Bara thought up another lie. 

“Gemstones,” she finally said.

“That makes sense with the stones on the cover. They must be Topaz?”

Eager to just get away, Bara agreed, “Yeah, topaz.” 

Her hand was on the door. Ms. Korey stopped her with yet another question. 

“You’re sure they aren’t amber?” 

Bara said nothing.

“But no,” Ms. Korey answered her own question. “That can’t be. Amber isn’t really a gemstone. It’s sap. The petrified blood of trees … so to speak.”

“Blood …” Bara echoed and then reinvested in her lie. “No, they’re topaz like you said.”

“Take care it isn’t stolen,” Ms. Korey warned. “There are those that who would love to get hold of it, for the cover alone.”

“Right. Let’s go, Amy.”

“Be careful girls.”  

“Careful? Yeah, you said that.” 

Ms. Korey motioned to the outside. 

“I meant the weather. It’s turned into a storm out there.”

Bara tried to open the door but it resisted. 

“Good night!” Ms. Korey said. “I’ll see you both soon.”

Bara took one last look back. Ms. Korey still watched her. She pushed at the door harder and broke through the wind resistance. Followed by Amy, she went out onto the stone steps.  A cold wind hit her full on, giving a mouthful of unwanted air, and almost sent her reeling back in. Ms. Korey was right. There was a storm coming, and it was robbing the day of the last of its light. Bara regained her breath and ran down the steps. 

“Why did you lie?” Amy called after her.  

Bara wasn’t stopping. She barrelled across the square. Amy ran to catch up. 

  “Why did you have to lie?” she repeated.

“Lay off," Bara threw over her shoulder. “If the book isn’t part of the collection. What does it matter?” 

She continued across the square and then started down Windfall Boulevard, still rushing but no longer running. 

Amy caught up again. 

“I just don’t see why you couldn’t have told the truth.” 

Bara stopped and rounded. The cold wind whipped through her hair. Wisps of red-gold fell on her face. 

“Tell Ms. Korey about my dreams and how they led me to the diary? Seriously? She’d have thought we were lying, on drugs, or plain crazy.”

“Okay, maybe not the dream part.”

“She’d have claimed the diary! If we told her we’d found it in the library, she’d have said it belonged to the library.”

“No, she wouldn’t have. You’re being paranoid.”

“I’m not! Besides, it’s mine. Sedgewick said it himself. I found it. It’s mine.” 

Amy looked unconvinced. 

Bara’s frustration grew. She reached into her bag, brought out the diary, and gestured it roughly. 

“I get it. You want it for yourself? Here! It’s yours!” 

Amy took a step back and held up her hands defensively. 

  “I don’t want it,” she said rather vehemently.

Bara saw her obvious reluctance to take the diary and finally relaxed. She realized then she’d been acting the drama queen. She returned the diary to her bag and looked back at Amy. Amy was shivering, her coat too thin and worn for the weather. She didn’t have a large wardrobe. Back when they were preteens, growing spits and spurts, she’d been forced to wear pants torn at the knees and short at the hem. The terrible twins would ask her when the flood was coming. Bara made a mental note to give Amy one of her heavier coats. Her new cashmere would go great with Amy’s warm skin. Courtney had picked it out and it was pink. But Amy liked pink. Bara smiled guiltily. 

“I’m a total loser. Total. It’s cold. Let’s go back to the dorm. We’ll see what the diary has to say together.” Trying to lighten the mood, she added, “For all we know, it’s some mushy romance or something.”

Amy agreed and they made their way back to St. Cat. Their fight was over but neither felt much better. The trees blocked out most of the light coming through the clouds and the streets were empty. Foul weather made sure of that. They didn’t see another soul. Yet there persisted the oddest sense. One didn’t tell the other, but they both felt there was someone else out there. They took turns peering into black shadows. 

St. Cat’s gates were closed tight. They unlocked a side door and passed through. The school was dark. Stone gargoyles perched on the upper turrets, shadowy outlines in the last specks of dusk. They rounded the school and the dormitory came into view. Most of the girls were already in the dining hall, but many had left on their room lights. A warm glow guided them home. 

Amy opened a heavy door. It closed behind them with a sturdy thud. The click of the lock echoed through the stairway. They were safe from the prying eyes of twilight. Still the unease persisted. They climbed the stairs to their second-floor room. Bara opened the door and turned on the light. The room was empty. Amy crossed to the window and closed the curtains. Finally, they were alone.

The Wisp and its sequel, the Tall Man, are available here.

Author's Note

Enjoy:)

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Loved the chapter dear Pryde. I am semi-retired and I am catching-up on the read-request. I hope you are doing well and staying safe.
Coyote

[Pryde Foltz]

Congratulations on the semi-retirement:0

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you my friend. Maybe I write my book now???

[wordman]

these stories are getting better and better pryde,loved all the images

[Pryde Foltz]

Thank you, Ron:)

[wordman]

you`re very welcome

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Pryde... since it is past midnight, I must admit... I have only read half of this...
but I must say it is very well defined. There are times When I have dreamed of people
I have never seen and places I have never been. I am more peaceful without these dreams.
However, I will always wonder... where do apparitions come from ? Pryde... I must go to sleep now.
Busy day tomorrow. I can imagine this story really happening. I have spent time in old bookstores and so forth. In one Book on the opening blank page were the words, Beauty is her Calling Card... that would be true of you, Pryde. (I will return to reading the second half). truly, Pat

[Pryde Foltz]

When our dreams slip into that special place it can be disturbing. I believe it the work of the sub-conscious to build the consciousness of the whole and not to be feared. Just yourself telling you something about yourself. Thanks so much for the read, Pat:) Much love:)