Witch Ball - BK 3 Read online

  THE SEER

  LINDA JOY SINGLETON lives in northern California. She has two grown children and a wonderfully supportive husband who loves to travel with her in search of unusual stories.

  Linda Joy Singleton is the author of more than twenty-five books, including the series Regeneration, My Sister the Ghost, Cheer Squad, and, also from Llewellyn, Strange Encounters.

  LINDA JOY SINGLETON

  Coming soon from Linda Joy Singleton

  The Seer #4, Sword Play

  To Linda Burns, a special Phantom Friend who shares my loves of series books and reality shows.

  THURSDAY

  "Come on Sabine, dish!" Penny-Love said as the cheerleaders closed in on me around the table. "How was your big weekend? Did Josh like your parents? Did they like him? Did you and Josh sneak off to your old bedroom?"

  Everyone giggled, and I blushed. When PennyLove invited me to join her and a few other cheerleaders at Pepper's Pizza after school, I'd thought they'd discuss plans for the Booster Club Carnival. I hadn't known my love life was on the menu. Leave it to the Queen of Gossip to turn my twin sisters' birthday into a wild party.

  "No," I told her firmly. "Josh did not see my bedroom."

  "What exactly did he see?"

  "Nothing."

  Penny-Love flipped back her curly, red hair as she turned to the other girls. "Anyone who believes that, raise your hand."

  I looked around for support, but Jill, Catelyn, and Kaitlyn were hands-down behind Penny-Love. They sipped sodas and leaned closer, obviously not wanting to miss a juicy word. For a moment, I felt panicked-like a cornered rabbit surrounded by hunters. I glanced at the pizza counter, hoping our orders would arrive and I would be saved from answering. But then I realized something that calmed me. This was exactly what I'd wanted-to be accepted, even admired, by popular friends. Since starting a new high school, I'd worked hard to fit in like I was normal. Talking about my love life was a small price to pay.

  "It was just a birthday party for my sisters," I said with a shrug. "It was held at an amusement park, then afterwards a few of us went back to the house to watch my sisters open their presents. Josh was nice enough to go with me."

  "Did he get to unwrap anything?" Penny-Love asked with a sly wink.

  "No!" I swatted her on the arm. "You are sooo bad."

  "It's a gift," she teased.

  Everyone giggled, and I managed to smile even though the word "gift" made me cringe. If my friends knew about my gift of psychic visions, they'd think I was a freak. After what happened at my last school, I was more careful now.

  So I told them all the good stuff about josh; how he arrived early because he wanted to stop somewhere romantic on the way and how he gave me a chocolate kiss, then when it melted in my mouth, his lips melted on my lips. Everyone oohed and wanted details, but I kept it PG 13, not that there were any R moments. Josh wasn't that kind of guy. In fact, he had such a high code of ethics, I found myself watching what I said around him. There were things he didn't need to know.

  The pizzas arrived and I reached for a slice smothered in mushrooms and pepperoni. Steamy cheese and tomato smells wafted around us as we gave up talking for eating. But after a few minutes, I noticed that Jill was staring at a notebook and hardly touching her pizza.

  Jill lifted her head and tapped her fork against the table. "Everyone, listen up." she said in her most serious squad captain tone. "You know why I called this emergency meeting."

  I raised my brows. No, I didn't know. PennyLove hadn't mentioned any emergency. Did she have an ulterior motive for inviting me? I shot her a suspicious look-which she ignored.

  "The carnival is in two days and we have major problems. Here's my to-do list." Jill pushed her plate aside and flipped open the notebook. She was always making lists and was respected for being a take-charge leader who could order people around without coming off bitchy. "We still need makeup for the face-painting booth, a teacher volunteer for the `Dunk the Teacher' booth, and we have to fill three empty booths. Any ideas?"

  "I vote we dunk my algebra teacher," Kaitlyn joked. She had a quirky sense of humor, the opposite of her studious best friend Catelyn.

  "I'd rather dunk Mr. Blankenship," Penny-Love said. "His awful ties and polyester suits are a crime; he deserves to get dunked."

  "Instead of a teacher, how about Principal Cowboy?" Catelyn suggested. "He's got a good sense of humor and might do it."

  I wasn't a cheerleader-more of a mascot, as Penny-Love teased-so I didn't join in. I listened without saying anything and found myself drifting above it all, watching the scene. Only I hardly recognized myself The girl who was me looked happy, as if she fit in this cozy group of great hair, greater bodies, and popularity-plus. To my friends, my life probably seemed perfect. I earned good grades, I was on the school newspaper, and I had a sizzling hot boyfriend. Penny-Love was always complaining about her rowdy brothers and strict parents, and thought I had it easy living with my grandmother.

  She was both right and wrong. Living with Nona was great, but it hadn't been my idea. After a scandal at my old school because I'd predicted the death of a star athlete, my mother kicked me out. For months we hadn't spoken. She hadn't even wanted me to attend my own sisters' party, but I'd gone anyway, and instead of a disaster, things went surprisingly well. Mom was impressed with josh and seemed almost comfortable with me.

  "So how about it, Sabine?" Jill was asking.

  I looked up with a start and found everyone staring at me like I had pizza sauce on my nose. I wiped my hand across my face.

  "Will you talk to Manny for us?" Jill said.

  "Uh ... sure." I paused. "About what?"

  "The fortune-telling booth. Didn't you hear anything I just said?" When I shrugged sheepishly, Jill explained. "Penny-Love says you're really tight with Manny DeVries, and he amazes everyone with his Mystic Manny school newspaper column, so he'd make a fantastic fortune-teller at our carnival. Think he'd do it?"

  I glanced over at Penny-Love sharply. Had she set me up? But I kept my unease to myself and shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "There's no predicting what Manny will do."

  "Will you ask him?" Jill persisted with a smile that was hard to refuse.

  "Come on, Sabine," Penny-Love pleaded. "Ask him for us."

  "Sure. I'll talk to him at school tomorrow, but no guarantees."

  "Great!" Everyone smiled at me, and I felt lucky to be part of this fun group. I didn't want to disappoint them, and hoped Manny would say yes. He was a complex mix of ego, honesty, and ambition. He thrived on being unconventional and was respected for his fearless attitude. He'd proven himself a trusted friend, and was one of only two people at school who knew I was psychic.

  More plans for booths were made, while pizza slices disappeared and drinks were refilled. Talk shifted to Penny-Love (as usual) and she told everyone about how my grandmother planned to hire her as a "Love" assistant. Nona ran a computer dating service called Soul Mate Matches, but a serious health condition had recently caused her to need an assistant. I worried about my grandmother and had recently bought a cell phone so she could contact me if she was in trouble.

  So when my phone rang, I dropped my pizza.

  It was Nona-and she sounded frantic.

  "Hurry home!" she cried. "It's the witch ball!"

  I hid my anxiety from my friends, saying I had to leave because my grandmother needed help defrosting the freezer. It was a lame excuse, but Penny-Love would have insisted on coming along for anything but a housework emergency. I did not want the Queen of Gossip to know about the weird side of my life.

  As I pedaled home on my bike, my mind spun faster than my legs. Nona had sounded so fright ened, worse than when her memory failed and she couldn't find c
ar keys or important papers. Despite her worsening illness, she always remained upbeat and confident. I was usually the one who leaned on her. So having her call in a panic was really unnerving. What had she meant by her cryptic message?

  The witch ball.

  A distant relative had given it to me over a week ago. The sphere sparkled with rainbow-tinted crystal shards trapped inside clear glass. It was so pretty, obviously a rare antique, and I'd been excited to show it to Nona. But instead of being impressed, she'd ordered me to "get that cursed thing out of my sight!"

  "Cursed?" I'd asked in astonishment. "You can't be serious. It's just a glass ball."

  "A witch ball," she'd corrected.

  I was totally baffled by Nona's reaction and wondered if paranoia was another symptom of her illness. Sure the ball gave off strange vibes, but that's what made it fascinating. Antiques often carried energy from the past-the older they werethe stronger the energy. From the moment I held the ball, I'd been intrigued by the strange aura I sensed within its depth.

  Out of curiosity last week, I'd looked up "witch ball" on the Internet. Despite the spooky name, there was nothing magical about the glass balls. According to legend, centuries ago witch balls were hung in windows to ward off evil from passing witches. Any negative thoughts were supposed to reflect back to the sender. While I believed in ghosts and spirits, I didn't believe in old-fashioned superstitions. I liked to pet black cats and thirteen was my favorite number. Still, to pacify my grandmother, I'd shut the ball inside my closet.

  So why had she made the frantic call?

  A car honked as I pedaled onto Lincoln Avenue. It never took long to ride my bike anywhere in semi-rural Sheridan Valley. But now the short mile back to my home seemed like a cross-country trip.

  Autumn trees, golden-brown fields, and houses blurred as I neared Lilac Lane. There were fewer homes on this rural road, bordered by tangled woods that stretched to Nona's ten-acre farm. Passing our barn-shaped mailbox, I careened into the long dirt driveway. Gravel and dust kicked up as my wheels churned, and through oak trees I saw Nonas weathered yellow farmhouse. It looked so peaceful, and I felt a comforting sense of belonging. Home was no longer in San Jose with my parents, but here in the heart of Nonas farm, and I was terrified of losing it all.

  As I neared the house, I saw my grandmother on the porch-only she wasn't alone. Dominic stood beside her. Part handyman and part apprentice to Nona, Dominic was still a mystery to me. He seemed a few years older than me, but he didn't go to school or discuss his past. All I knew was that his mother had died, he'd suffered abuse from a cruel uncle, and had an unusual connection to animals.

  As usual, his sandy brown hair waved out of place and he wore rugged jeans and western boots. He was leaning close to Nona protectively, but when he turned toward me, his blue eyes hardened like stone.

  "About time." Typical Dominic-short on words but high on attitude.

  "I left as soon as Nona called." I dropped my bike and rushed up the porch steps. "Nona, are you okay?"

  "Yes." Loose silver-brown tendrils of hair escaped from her paisley scarf and she pushed them back as she offered a weak smile. "I-I suppose I overreacted. It was just such a shock seeing . . . "

  "Seeing what?" I put my arm around her shoulders and was surprised to find her trembling.

  Dominic pursed his lips. "You should know."

  "Well, I don't," I said breathlessly, and not only because I'd raced here on my bike. I couldn't understand why Dominic was acting so hostile to me, which added to the tension between us since our trip to Pine Peaks. We'd gotten intimate in an unexpected moment, and now everything was awkward. I didn't know what he thought or if he wondered what I thought or if I even cared. It was safer to keep my distance, which I had-until now.

  "You brought it here," Dominic told me, "so you're responsible."

  "For what?"

  "Putting that up there," Nona answered, pointing high at the kitchen window. Her face was so pale, the wrinkles stood out, as if she'd aged twenty years since I'd left for school this morning.

  I followed her gaze and saw rainbow lights flash in the window. "Is that the witch ball?" I murmured, puzzled. "Who hung it up there?"

  "You?" Dominic guessed.

  "No way! I left it in my closet."

  "It didn't stay there." Nona sank on the porch swing.

  "Very strange." Dominic ran his rugged hand over his forehead. When he moved closer to me, his nearness made my breath catch. Neither of us said anything. I wondered if he was thinking about the witch ball or remembering that stormy night when a surreal moment on a dance floor led to our kissing.

  I stepped back from him. "I don't know how the witch ball got into the kitchen. It's been in my closet since Nona asked me to put it away. Someone must have taken it from my room."

  "Or it moved by itself," my grandmother said in a hushed tone, rocking slightly on the swing, her hands clasped in her lap.

  "Impossible," I insisted.

  Dominic touched his chin thoughtfully. "The animals have been acting strange. Keeping away from the house."

  "You can't possibly think the witch ball is haunted."

  His blue eyes darkened as he leaned closer to me. "What do you think?"

  The questions in his gaze made my heart jump. Were we still talking about the witch ball? I gave a firm shake of my head. "It's not haunted."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I haven't seen any visions or ghosts."

  "So who moved the ball?"

  "I have no idea," I said a bit defensively. "I've been at school, and then at the pizza parlor-"

  "With your boyfriend?" Dominic asked with a frown.

  "No. I was with Penny-Love and some friends." I felt my cheeks heat up and wondered why he was even asking. He couldn't possibly care whom I went out with. He probably didn't even remember our kiss. If only I could forget ...

  I moved away from him and sat beside Nona on the porch swing, gently taking her hand in mine. "I'm sorry the ball upset you."

  "It's evil." Nona stared up at the window. "I refuse to go inside until it's gone."

  "I offered to get rid of it," Dominic said, "but Nona wouldn't let me."

  "Not without first talking to Sabine." She turned back to me. "I was hoping you'd have a logical explanation."

  "I wish I did-but I don't. I'll go take it down."

  When I entered the kitchen, I stared up, amazed all over again by the glass ball's beauty. Dazzling colors reflected from the glittery sphere, dancing across the walls like a rainbow ballet. The ball dangled over the sink, hung from a string loped over a nail. Despite its witchy name, it certainly hadn't hopped on a broom and flown to the kitchen window. So how did it get up there?

  There was one explanation I didn't want to consider, but sadly it made the most sense. Had Nona moved the ball herself and then forgotten? Her failing memory caused her to behave strangely; a few weeks ago she'd left the house for a luncheon, wearing her nightgown and slippers. Fortunately, I'd stopped her before she'd gotten too far.

  I pushed a chair over by the window, then climbed high to reach the witch ball. It seemed so happy in the window, as if it belonged in sunlight, and I felt oddly guilty for taking it down. But I didn't want to upset Nona any further. Unhooking the ball, I carried it back into my bedroom.

  "Is Nona right?" I murmured, turning the glass ball between my hands as I sat on the edge of my bed. "Are you haunted?"

  Its not going to answer, a sassy voice spoke in my mind.

  "Hey, Opal," I greeted my spirit guide. Opal was my go-between with the other side. She could be really bossy, but I could usually trust whatever she told me. So I asked her about the witch ball.

  You do manage to connect yourself to the unusual, she told me and my mind-vision of her was smiling with amusement. I cease to understand why you call upon me to solve all your trivial concerns.

  gust tell me yes or no . . . is this witch ball haunted?"

  To simply put it-since you insist of a b
lunt manner of speaking-maybe.

  "Maybe! What kind of answer is that?"

  A true answer.

  "Is there a ghost inside the ball?"

  Ghosts do not reside within earthly objects. Certainly the ball is aged and carries a strange essence. Emotions and happenings linger like a strong aroma and can perfume a dwelling long past its occupants have expired, but this object is ofyour world and has no unnatural attributes.

  "So it's ordinary glass?"

  As ordinary as the bed you sit upon. Although I am aware of something else ... an entity close by, but not clear .. .

  "What kind of entity?"

  I am unsure ... There are strong emotions of anger. Its very peculiar ...

  "What do you mean?" I waited for a reply. "Opal, are you still there?"

  Silence.

  The air around me grew chilly and the ceiling light flickered, then went out. An odd smell filled the room; sweet like vanilla, but so overpowering, I almost choked.

  Darkness made me nervous. I had a collection of night-lights and always kept one plugged in. But tonight my walls were murky shadows; the only light flaring was from the witch ball. When I looked down, I was startled to find the glass glowing crimson and blue, like a bleeding sky.

  With a shriek, I dropped the ball on the bed. The overhead lights flashed back on and the chilly dampness vanished along with the sickly sweet vanilla odor. I looked down, seeing my own shocked expression reflected in fragmented prisms of glass. And I sensed dark energy from something ... someone.

  Nona was right about the witch ball.

  It was evil.

  FRIDAY

  My hands shook as I placed the glass ball inside a cardboard box. I duct-taped the box, wrapping tape around and around, tighter than an Egyptian mummy. Then I buried the box far back on the closet shelf-like an offering to darkness-and closed the door.

  That night I plugged in my angel night-light and lit a white candle for protection. I had no idea what I was protecting myself against, but I felt calm after whispering a prayer and asking Opal to watch over me. I hoped she was listening.