Page 60 of Persephone's Curse
“And madness, unfortunately. Look, do you know any other ways? To, like…”
“Contact the dead?” she guessed. “Sure. You could try scrying.”
“Scrying?”
“Nostradamus used a bowl of water. He predicted his own death, you know.”
“He did?”
“Yup. He was big into the occult, too. So maybe he had tapped into something.”
“A bowl of water.”
“Might as well give it a try.”
“Are there any risks?”
“If you pass out and hit your head and land face down in the bowl, you could drown,” she said thoughtfully. “Or more likely, you could lose your way in the labyrinthine maze of the eternal abyss.”
“When you saymore likely,exactlyhowlikely do you mean?”
“With your skill level, I’d say not very. Ironically, the more practice you have, the more dangerous it becomes.”
“Do I need anything to do this?”
“We sell scrying bowls,” she said. “But I’m sure you have something in your kitchen already that will work just fine.”
“Okay. Um. Thanks.”
“Good luck, little god of nightmares!”
I’m sure I don’t have to say that scrying out of a vintage Pyrex gooseberry bowl did absolutely nothing except wet the ends of my hair, which I forgot to tie back before dipping my head over the water.
I dumped the water into the kitchen sink and dried the bowl with a dish towel, placing it carefully back in the cabinet before turning back around to the kitchen, which was dark and quiet and empty and—
Not empty.
It was not empty.
The Ouija board ghost was back, standing on the other side of the kitchen island, just next to the kitchen table, just next to the spot on the wall where the full glass of water had shattered after narrowly missing Clara’s head.
The ghost was no more distinct than it had been last night, but still I felt that familiarity, that connection…
Itwasa Farthing ghost, it had to be, and without really thinking about it, I took a few steps and moved in front of the kitchen island, moved closer to the ghost, which seemed to turn its—her—head to watch me.
I was just a few feet away from it now, and when I paused, it extended its hand out to me, reaching for me…
It reached for me.
She reached for me…
“Evelyn?” I whispered.
And I swear, I swear, I swear—
She nodded her headyes.
The ghost—Evelyn?—disappeared right after it nodded and in the moments directly after, I felt weightless and untethered to reality.
