Behind the Mask

October 31st, Ten Years Ago Gracelyn stood there, for how long she had no idea. Finally shaking her head, she turned to go to the kitchen and fell to the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Pushing to her knees, she looked down at the floor. Maybe she shouldn't have had those cups of punch at the costume party. She wasn't much of a drinker. She took a deep breath and slowly pulled herself up by the banister of the stairs. Her head was feeling a little wobbly. What had they spiked the punch with? Tea would help, she hoped.

She straightened and then winced when the pain went down through her leg. Oh great, she thought, not only am I a bit tipsy, but now I've hurt myself. Half-limping, half-hopping, she headed to the bathroom. When she finally reached the door, she pushed herself through it and tried to land on the edge of the tub. Sliding half in the tub, she righted herself and turned the taps on. A nice, long soak and some sobering tea—she hoped that would do the trick.

Stripping off her ballerina tights, she bunched them up, dropped them on the floor, and reached around to undo the stiff skirt of her costume. She sighed. She'd had such a wonderful time, and now her heart was heavy because her sister had to have one of her dramatic fits tonight!

Was there a reason her older sibling always chose to freak out over something silly when she was feeling great about something? "From now on, the only time you'll see beautiful Gracie is on Samhain, from midnight start to midnight finish. The rest of the year, you'll be a blur!" She had no idea what Faith had meant by that, and truly, at this moment, she didn't care about her sister's temper tantrum.

Checking the water, she stood and pulled the leotard off. When she straightened, everything seemed distorted. Grabbing for the counter, she let out a slow breath. She was so calling Grady tomorrow and giving him an earful for giving her too much of that punch. She looked in the mirror, she couldn't even see her own reflection clearly.

Groaning loudly, she moved over to the tub and turned off the water. Would she get too dizzy and drown if she had a bath now? She leaned over the tub and rubbed a hand down her right leg. It didn't hurt to touch, so surely falling on her face in the foyer hadn't hurt it too seriously. No bath, not with the way her head was spinning. Her leg would probably be just fine and dandy in the morning.

Her stomach lurched as she reached toward her blue robe on the back of the door. Stopping, she rubbed a hand over it. Tea would probably be a good idea though. Slipping her arms through the robe, she tied it and realized that she was even having coordination problems with her hands. She was never drinking again!

~

With soothing tea in her stomach, she headed up the long staircase carefully. She still couldn't see very well, and her head felt really muddled. She sat on the landing, happy that she'd reached the halfway point up the stairs to rest. Falling down the stairs and breaking her neck when she was here alone wasn't something she wanted to try.

Phinehas, her black cat, meowed from the top of the stairs. She exhaled noisily. "I know, boy, I'm an idiot and will never indulge in unidentified alcoholic beverages again." The cat mewed again, and from the sound of it, he was deserting her and leaving her on the stairs. "Traitor," she mumbled as she pushed herself to her feet again.

~

Gracelyn opened her eyes slowly and waited to see if her head was still floating. So far, it feels fine, she thought. She stretched and then frowned. Her leg felt a little sore, but nothing too bothersome.

Carefully, she sat up. Everything was still a bit blurry. Rubbing her hands over her face, she moaned. She felt awful. Surely the effects of having a few cups of punch wouldn't last this long. She got up slowly and moved carefully toward the bathroom. She flicked the light switch and leaned on the counter. Squinting, she looked in the mirror. Her image was blurry. She held up her hand to look at it. Moving it closer to her face, she was able to bring it into focus. "What did I drink?"

Going back to the bedroom, she eased down to sit on the edge of the bed. With her shoulders slumped and head hanging down, she tried to bring the floor into focus. Her spine straightened as she remembered what her sister had said the night before. "From now on, the only time you'll see beautiful Gracie is on Samhain, from midnight start to midnight finish. The rest of the year, you'll be a blur!" No! She wouldn't have—couldn't have! She lifted her head. "Faith!" she bellowed. "Come here, now!" She waited and heard nothing.

Grabbing her robe, she quickly shuffled out into the hallway and headed to her sister's room. Reaching it, she huffed out a breath and flung the door open. She squinted and looked around the room. Faith wasn't here. "Great, just great!" She leaned against the wall for a moment. "I can't go anywhere like this!"

Pushing herself slowly away from the wall, she turned to make her way to the room that had been their parents'. Her heart strained. She still missed them. Two of the most powerful witches in the community and they let themselves drown, she thought with a groan.

She reached the door, went in, and felt her way to the closet. Turning on the light probably would have helped, she decided when she stubbed her toe. Her father had worn glasses, so hopefully, if she tried them, she'd be able to look in a mirror and see what else her nasty sister had done to her.

After finding a box, she opened it and started digging around in it. She felt for the right shape, for one of the many cases. Hopefully they had been kept. "When I get my hands on you, Faith Trainer, you are going to be one sorry witch!" Feeling what felt like an eyeglass case, she opened it and pulled out her father's heavy-rimmed glasses. "Here's hoping," she whispered. She put them on.

Opening her eyes, she waited a moment until they adjusted to the thick lenses. Her perception of everything in the room wasn't perfect, but she could see much better than before she put them on. Of course, she wouldn't win any beauty contests wearing these.

The doorbell chimed throughout the house. "Uh!" She turned and headed toward the stairs as quickly as she could manage on her tender leg. It rang again. "Coming!" she called out as loud as she could.

All the way down the stairs, she tried to remember the glamour incantation. There was no way she was opening the door like, well, however she looked at this moment. Reciting it in her head as she reached the door, she took a deep breath and brushed a hand down her hair. She squeaked when she felt the glasses and quickly pulled them off and tucked them in her pocket. Whoever was on the other side of the door was going to have to be blurry.

Pulling the door open, she stopped. Her eyes may not be clear, but she could still see well enough to know it was two police officers standing on her steps. "Yes?"

"Miss Gracelyn Trainer?"

She frowned and nodded. "Yes."

The taller blurry man took off his hat. "May we come in for a moment?"

Gracie started to step back and almost stumbled when her leg didn't move. "What…" She tried to bring their faces into focus. "What is this about?" she asked hesitantly.

One of them cleared their throat. "I'm afraid we have bad news, Miss Trainer, regarding your sister."

"Faith?" Her voice quivered.

"Yes, she was in an accident sometime in the night . . ."

Gracie clutched the doorknob. "Is she all right? Where is she?"

One of them placed a hand over hers. "I think we should come in and sit down."

Her ears were ringing as she shook her head and sought out to feel her sister, something they had always been able to do. It was empty, cold, dark. "Did she . . ." She swallowed and took a deep breath. "Is she . . ." Her voice gave out before she could finish. She didn't need their confirmation. Her soul knew that she was alone now. "I need to sit," she announced as she slid to the floor and leaned against the door.

~

Gracie sat alone in the dark that night. She wanted to forget the entire day but knew she'd remember it always. She was alone, and she knew now that she always would be. Not only had she lost her sister and last relative, but her sister had also cursed her to live the loneliest existence possible. The officers who had come and broken the news had returned a short while later as if they'd forgotten they had already spoken to her.

Faith's words went through her mind again. "And from now on, no one is going to be at your beck and call. No one will even remember you!" She swiped the tears off her cheeks and hugged Phinehas to her chest. "No one's going to remember me, Phin. What are we going to do?"

Evan groaned as he pulled open the door. He didn’t need to open it to see who would be on the other side. He could feel the magic, and he would be in trouble if he ignored the loud banging. Hungover, he inclined his head slightly to acknowledge his superior standing there. “Senior, to what do I owe this very early visit?” He just wanted to go back to bed.

The older man brushed past him and moved to stand a few feet from him. “Celebrate Samhain a little too much last night, Mr. Dermott?”

Evan shrugged. “Possibly.”

The older man shook his head. “Were you too drunk to feel the charge of darkness last eve?”

Evan hissed out a breath and motioned to the kitchen. This wasn’t going to be a brief visit. “No, I was quite sober at that point.” Running his hand through his hair he tried to stimulate his brain.

The elder walked quickly into the kitchen. “I have been up all night trying to trace who would dare to use dark magic on such a sacred night; I have come up with empty hands.”

Evan filled the coffee maker and flicked it on before he turned. “And you’re sharing this with me because?”

Senior sat at the table and sighed. “I am too old to go on bad little witch hunts, Evan. It was passed to you when your father retired.”

Evan exhaled slowly. “I know this, but at the time I accepted the honor, there hadn’t been the need for a hunt for thirty years.” He sat down and rubbed a hand down over his face. “I’ve been so busy learning the ropes at the company that dear old Dad handed over early to go off and gallivant all over the planet that I’m afraid my magical skills have been poorly neglected. Someone else might be a better choice.”

He studied the older man briefly. He looked up at the coffee pot and willed it to finish faster. He was only twenty-four, and he was now running a multimillion-dollar corporation in the real world and had been handed the job of hunter for witches who broke sacred laws in his magical community. When, he wondered, did he get time to relax or have fun?

“I am sure your skills are just fine, Dermott. You can still sense magic, can you not?”

Evan got up, not caring if the maker was finished. He wanted coffee now. “Yes, I can still sense magic.”

“That’s fine then. I’ll need you to start searching within a hundred-mile perimeter today.”

Evan turned to stare at him. “Today?”

The elder stood while nodding. “Yes. One of our own could be affected, or worse, someone without any magic at all. Justice needs to be served and the mess cleaned up or controls set in place.”

Guilt bit through his lethargic body, and he frowned. “Fine, I will take a trip and see what I can find.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I will have to look in the evenings. The company is at a critical moment right now, and my days are filled with that.”

“Very good.” The elder waved his hand around the room. “I’ll leave you to recover from last night’s festivities and look forward to your call later.”

“Sure thing,” he mumbled as he followed the man to the door.

~

He wasn’t a detective for crying out loud! He studied the map again then looked out the windshield. It had been three nights, or partial ones, and nothing so far. The spell he’d sent out in the air had led him in the same direction time and time again, but then the signal would just fade, leaving him on the side of the road.

He cursed and tossed the map into the passenger’s seat. He needed food, coffee, and some sleep. He reached over to search through the pile of newspapers on the seat, all from small rural towns he had been through, none pointing him in any direction that yielded information. He sighed and looked out the window.

Across the street was an old graveyard, not one of those with new polished headstones and pretty flower holders. This one had old gothic tombstones and a sense of history, and he was sure that if he’d stepped inside the gates, magic.

He glanced slowly from the graveyard back to the pile of papers. Obituaries had been the one place he hadn’t thought to look. It was a long shot, but he was out of other ideas. Picking up the first one, he quickly flipped to the back. No deaths recently in this community.

He checked the four papers, and only one had any notices listed. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed the Senior and hoped this would turn out to be something. Senior answered.

“Hello, Senior. I need to run two names by you and see if they’re of any significance.”

“You’ve found something?”

Evan rubbed his jaw. “Possibly.” He held up the page. “Do either of these names belong to our community? Ethel Willis or Faith Trainer?” He lowered the paper and waited.

“Trainer? Oh, it couldn’t be . . .”

Evan’s eyebrows drew together. “Couldn’t be what?”

“Two members of our community were killed a few years ago. Magic was involved but we never told their children, but they left behind two daughters, Faith and Gracelyn…”

Not common names. “I’ll look into it.”

“Where did you come up with these names, Evan?”

Evan glanced at the paper. “Obituaries.”

“Oh! Oh, find Gracelyn. This may not have anything to do with the eve of Samhain, but she will be alone now. Find her and bring her home, Evan.”

He didn’t like how panicked the elder sounded. “I’ll do my best, sir.” He hung up the phone. Had things just gotten better or worse? He was off the hook for the black witch magic hunt, for now. But now he had one dead and one missing witch to find. Definitely worse.

Growling in frustration, he started the car and spun it around in the direction of the small town. If she’d just buried her sister, she couldn’t be too far, he hoped.

~

The small town seemed deserted. He glanced at his watch, it wasn’t yet nine in the evening. Driving around, he spotted a couple of older women sitting outside on their porch. Grinning to himself, he pulled over. No one knew town gossip like the cute, little old ladies. He got out and smiled his most charming smile as he approached them.

“Good evening, ladies. Beautiful night.” Friendly smiles beamed back at him. He stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs. “I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for Miss Gracelyn Trainer.”

One of the sniffled and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. “That poor dear, she’s all alone now.”

The other straightened and patted her friend’s hand. “Now, Vie.” She turned to him, her wise eyes looking him over. “If you’ve come to pay your respects, I’m afraid you’re too late.”

“I only just heard,” he said softly.

She nodded. “The services were yesterday, such a tragedy. Faith was a spiteful child, but she didn’t deserve that.” She picked up her cup and took a drink. “Are you family?”

Evan shook his head. “No.”

She tsked a few times. “That’s too bad. Poor Gracie is alone now and only eighteen. You won’t find her, though. No one recalls seeing her at the service, the poor dear. She was gone. The house was empty when one of her neighbors went over after the services to check on her.”

Gone? Shit! He cleared his throat. “No one knows where she went?”

The sniffling woman shook her head. “No, not a word of where she was going, she was just gone.”

“I see.” He turned and looked around. “Could you point me in the direction of the house?” He shrugged. “I’d like to leave word in case she happens to come back for any reason.”

They both pointed. “End of the street, big house. You can’t miss it,” one of them whispered.

Evan nodded. “Thank you very much, ladies.” He started to turn.

“If you’d like to pay your respects, the cemetery is at the other end of town. Gracie’s parents are buried right alongside her sister.”

“Thank you.” He nodded again and went back to his car.

~

Needing to know if black magic had been the cause of the girl’s death, he went to the graveyard first. What other reason would Gracie have to take off the way she had?

Finding a new grave wasn’t hard in a town this size, he thought as he stopped his car. He went over to the gravesite slowly, seeking magic as he did. There were no traces of black magic here. The girl had died without magical aid. He squatted and looked at the new headstone. It only had her name and dates, nothing else. He found that odd that her own sister hadn’t added anything else other then when she was born and died.

He moved over to the older headstone marker for her parents and squatted again. “Where would she go?” Not that he was asking the headstone or her dead parents, but sometimes, just sometimes, if one sent ideas out into the air, it brought back what was needed.

Getting up, he sighed and went back to his car. Would he find anything at the house to help him? A small trace of magic was all he needed. If she’d left him that, maybe he could find her. As he left the cemetery, it occurred to him that maybe she didn’t want to be found. If that were the case, he had a lot of work to do.

With the overall size of the town, it didn’t take him long to find the big house at the end of the street. It was a beautiful home, maybe needed a little work here and there, but for two young girls to have been left in charge of it for the better part of two years, it was in a good shape.

He went around the entire perimeter of the house and didn’t like what he sensed. Magic had been used within the walls here, both dark and light. That confirmed one thing—he had to go inside the house. He checked three times to make sure he wasn’t walking into some sort of magical whammy before he suggested to the back door that it open for him.

He stood in the entrance for several minutes and absorbed the vibrations throughout the house. The last felt, and the strongest, were sorrow and despair. Not grief as he’d imagined he’d feel, considering she had buried her last family member.

As he moved slowly through the house, he had to admit that living in it would be more than comfortable. Although, anything was better than the small apartment he now called home.

He froze when he stood at the bottom of the stairs. The pungent odor of dark magic filled his nostrils and put him on alert. Had it happened right here? He looked down at the bottom step and stooped to run his hand lightly over it. It was there, but it wasn’t right there. He held his hand lightly over the banister and moved slowly up the stairs. Five steps from the top, it was the strongest. Someone had used dark magic in this very spot. And chances were that the person it was used against had stood at the bottom.

He was going to have to find out what happened to the oldest sister, Faith. He didn’t know anything for certain yet, but the older women had said she was a spiteful child, and to him, that meant it often led into doing nasty things as the person got older. Had she cursed her own sister?

Evan continued up the stairs, and he checked each room carefully. Slight touches of magic were throughout them, but nothing strong enough to gauge anything. The last room he checked brought him to a stop as he entered it. It was heavy with despair, and somehow, he knew this had been Gracie’s room. “Why did you leave?” He turned in the room slowly and then spotted a picture hanging on the wall. Frowning, he walked over and looked at it. A couple stood with their two daughters in front of them. He touched the frame gently and leaned closer so he could see in the fading light. One daughter had coal black hair, and something told him it was Faith.

He took the picture off the wall carefully and walked over to the bathroom to turn on the light and get a better look. The picture was probably five years old, judging by his guess of the ages of the girls. He studied the auburn-haired girl. Even in a photo, her aura was lit with joy. She appeared graceful and carefree. It had to be Gracelyn. “Where are you?” he asked the photo.

He turned back toward the door and wandered around the room. “I’ll find you and give you back your home, Gracelyn.” Still holding the picture, he went to the back to the stairs. He had a lot of ground to cover and very little time to do it, but he knew one thing—no one was going to take this house away from that girl in the picture.