Page 82 of Specters & Spotlights

“Oh. Wow.” Nick’s voice dropped slightly.

“Let’s hope this one’s not quite so… dramatic,” Elise said.

Cici adjusted the angle of her phone so they could see the circular table in front of her—lined with flickering candles, a bowl of salt, sprigs of rosemary, and a tangled chain of copper wire.

“I’ve never tried to locate someone from this far,” she admitted, her voice gentle, steady. “But magic doesn’t care about miles. Only connection.”

“Do we have enough of that?” Elise asked.

“If we do it right,” Cici replied, “it’ll be like we’re in the same room. Do you have something of Ellen’s?”

Nick held something up to the screen: a tube of lipstick, its label slightly faded. “From the trunk. Same one she wore every night.”

Cici beamed. “Perfect. Personal item and DNA? That’s spell casting gold.”

She walked them through the setup. Elise and Nick sat cross-legged in the wig corner, surrounded by a makeshift circle of white tea lights and a few strands of coarse thread pulled from one of Ellen’s costume pieces.

Cici guided them in syncing their breath with hers as she lit a bundle of herbs on her end, and the flame shimmered strangely through the screen. Elise felt the familiar buzz in her fingertips as the space around them seemed to grow quieter, tighter, more focused.

“We’re bridged now,” Cici said softly, eyes on her spell book. “Time to call the lost one.”

Cici gently shifted the phone again, centering it on a dark ceramic bowl now filled with water that shimmered unnaturally, like it had its own light source.

“Okay,” she said, settling into the rhythm of ritual. “I’m going to try to scry on Ellen. With what we’ve gathered—her personal item, the candlelight, the thread, our intention, and a few choice words of power—I should be able to see an image of where she is.”

Nick leaned in closer to the screen. “You mean like a vision?”

“Exactly,” Cici nodded. “Just visual, though. No sound. And if we’re lucky, I might be able to shift the perspective. Zoom out a bit, pan around, that kind of thing. But it’s not always precise.”

Elise watched as Cici drew her fingertips lightly over the surface of the water, whispering something low and rhythmic. The air felt like it held its breath.

“Are you ready?” Cici asked, eyes never leaving the bowl.

“Yes,” Elise said softly.

Nick grinned, eyes wide. “Born ready for witchy GPS.” Kevin suppressed a chuckle.

Cici began murmuring the words of power, her voice low and sure, even over FaceTime. Elise watched with quiet awe. Cici always made this part look easy, even when Elise knew it wasn’t.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Cici leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowed. “It feels like it worked,” she said, “but I’m not seeing anything yet.”

The screen dimmed slightly. Candles guttered behind Cici, shadows stretching a little too far across the frame.

A few seconds passed. Then: “Okay… I see something. But it’s… strange. It’s all dark. Muddled. Like the view is too close, or fogged. I’m trying to pull it back, but it’s not coming into focus.”

Elise’s spine prickled. Something felt off. Her tattoos itched faintly under her sleeves, the way they did when an unfriendly presence was nearby—wrong and watching. Not from the scrying bowl. From inside the building.

A comb slid off the table behind her with a soft thud.

Kevin voiced what she already suspected. “Do you feel that too, Elise? Something’s here. And it’s mad.”

Cici flinched as one candle hissed out, plunging part of her face into shadow.

“I’m cutting it,” she said sharply. “Could you feel that pull? That wasn’t Ellen. The spell was attracting something else. Something I don’t want sniffing around.”

The moment the connection broke, Elise felt the pressure in the room lift, like a weight sliding off her chest.

Kevin exhaled. “Well. That was unpleasant.”