Page 35 of Rekindled Prophecy

“Anything you need to remedy this situation as soon as possible...absolutely anything,” Sofia vowed while straightening her hunched shoulders with determination.

Dialing Thomas, Greylyn conferred with him over the specifics needed for the spell she thought would provide the most coverage. She quickly jotted down the ingredients, words, and processes that were necessary to fix this particular incantation. She had used it before. Only once, but it had worked.

The old woman’s eyes grew wide as she read the list. Nodding, Greylyn thought she recognized admiration.

“Looks like you know your stuff, young lady. Or at least the young man on the other end of the phone does.” Her thin lips quirked up in a toothy smile. “Come this way then. I’ll take you to where the magic happens,” Sofia said with renewed energy. “I think you’ll be surprised we have the missing secret ingredient.”

The old woman shuffled faster than before, leading Greylyn to a back room where multi- colored lights peeked out from under the door. A gentle hum came from the room, almost like a distant echo. Sofia pulled out a skeleton key to unlock the door.

The room could not have been larger than a ten by ten-foot guest bedroom. Greylyn was surprised to find it jammed with people. She had not heard anyone else in the seemingly tiny apartment when she entered. Had not sensed anyone else in the apartment either. Either she was getting sloppy or Sofia had a kickass cloaking spell.

It was lit only by the ethereal glow of thousands of candles casting a rainbow of colors against the walls, ceiling, and floor. Various symbols from a plethora of religions adorned the walls. Altars were set up at the four corners, each manned by at least one human who was praying or chanting, sometimes with incense and sometimes with songs, some even in languages that had not been heard in centuries. Several symbols were posted at the door and above the blacked-out windows to protect the space against demons. She suspected that Sofia had these symbols strategically placed throughout the apartment, just not as overtly as in this room.

In the middle of the room was a large circle of women and a few men of varying ages and ethnicities holding hands and chanting in Aramaic, the ancient tongue of the Jews. From what she could discern, they were praying for strength and bravery, probably for one of Sofia’s clients.

The gray-haired psychic turned to Greylyn and then motioned to all the activity in the room. “This is what I call the work,” she whispered with a wry smile.

Greylyn grew impatient as they waited for “the work” to finish their incantations. To intrude in the middle of a prayer or a spell could mess up the whole thing, especially for the person it was designed to help.

Several minutes passed as she leaned against a bare spot on the paint-less wall, careful not to touch any symbols or relics. The ceiling was painted light blue as if it were the sky. She had seen ceilings like this before in antebellum homes in the Deep South. It was old folklore that ceilings should be the color of the sky so ghosts would not dwell in houses or be trapped under covered porches. This was most likely the reason Sofia’s work room had the same ceiling motif. Probably the same reason there was not even one mirror in the small apartment. Spirits used them to latch onto the physical world to avoid going into the afterlife.

The eerie humming from the various chants dwindled away. Sofia took her hand and led her to the group in the center. Introductions were made and Greylyn quickly filled them in on the situation.

One woman wore a sour facial expression. The way she glowered darts at Greylyn, it did not take guardian angel senses to feel the animosity radiating off her. The middle-aged woman with graying chestnut brown hair, a too-thin face with pronounced cheekbones, and bulging eyes addressed Sofia and the group in another language, probably to conceal her criticisms of the unwelcome newcomer. Her words were sharp and spoken in such a rushed manner that it took Greylyn a moment to recognize the old Armenian dialect. Luckily, being an angel allowed her expert knowledge of most languages, including ones that had long since faded into non- existence.

“This woman is a stranger and an interloper. Clearly, she knows nothing of the esoteric arts. There is no way my spell was anything less than immaculate. I am from a long line of spiritual sensitives that goes back centuries. This little tart,” she glared over at Greylyn, “knows nothing.”

She threw a few more demeaning remarks towards Greylyn, so vehemently that she inadvertently spit in the face of a meek looking young lady with her ashy blonde hair tied back with a ribbon. The poor girl recoiled as if bitten by a snake.

“Isabel, you know not what you say.” Sofia reprimanded the woman. “You must not underestimate the powers of our young guest.”

Greylyn was grateful that Sofia did not enlighten the group that she was a guardian angel. It was apparent that if Isabel were indeed spiritually gifted as she claimed, she would have readily discerned the truth. She had been told more than once by persons with special abilities that there was an incandescent aura surrounding her that signified her status as more than a human, more than a light worker.

Even if Isabel did not understand that the woman before her was an angel, she should have been able toseethat there was something different, something special about her. Her lack of sight was a strong indication as to why the spell had not worked.

This lady has no clue what she’s doing. She is a fraud.

The group looked on in respectful silence. A few averted their gaze from Greylyn, almost as if they were fearful of her or unable to comprehend what they were seeing. When she addressed them in the extinct Armenian dialect that Isabel just used, several turned to look directly at her with interest.

“I do not wish to insult the work of the group, but in this particular case, it was faulty. The mother and child are still in peril. Only by rectifying the spell can we help them.”

Isabel glared at each member of the group in turn before facing Sofia who gave her an ultimatum. “You can either help or you can leave. Now.”

The candles flickered as Isabel stormed out of the room. Moments later, the front door slammed shut loudly and with such force that the entire apartment rattled.

Oh well, guess we will just have to go on without that one. What a shame!

The woman’s sudden departure left the group looking startled and confused, but a few snickered. Greylyn was glad to see her go, but a nagging feeling crept into her gut.

If Isabel was responsible for the faulty spell, was it simply an accident, an oversight? Or was it on purpose?

Honestly, it did not matter now. What was done was done. All she could do was to fix the problem. Putting the woman out of her mind, Greylyn hurriedly instructed the rest of the group in what they needed to do. Sunrise was mere hours away. They needed to work fast.

The group quickly assented to the revised plan. Within half an hour the room was prepared to facilitate the incantation. Greylyn had been sure to snag a couple stray hairs off Kelly’s pajama top when she hugged her at the inn. Having a physical attribute of the person intended to benefit from the spell only amplified its chances of success. She was proud of herself for having such foresight.

This time, the spell would not just cover the pregnancy, but would continue over the course of the mother, the child’s, and any future siblings’ lives. That had not been part of the initial spell, but Thomas had suggested it during their phone call earlier. Greylyn knew the necessary steps and ingredients to add that on.

If everything worked according to plan, all of Kelly and Matthew’s children would be the most blessed and protected children in the world. Not in a showy way, like the next Einstein or Joe Montana or Babe Ruth. But blessed in gifts of love, family, intelligence, strength, and spiritual clarity…and of course, protection from the evils of this world. That was the main focus after all.

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