Witch House by Dana Donovan

It would not be
polite.”
    The two entered, stopping just beyond the
threshold. Lilith felt along the wall by the door and hit the light
switch. A fixture overhead came on, briefly illuminating the room
in a dull orange before going out. She hit the switch again. Once
more, it came on, burned a few seconds, and then died in a blink.
The third time she covered the wall switch with her hand, but only
made a clicking sound with her tongue. The light came on. She
looked to Ursula, her lips stretched thin and tight. “He’s not the
brightest firefly in the jar,” she remarked. “Is he?”
    Ursula grinned similarly. “Aye, thou
perception is sharp, but thy wit sharper.”
    In the center of the dimly lit room sat an
oval table with four wooden chairs spaced equally around it. A thin
linen cloth covering the table like a flag-draped coffin dripped
with tassels netted tight in matted cobwebs that had accumulated
over the years. On top, a hand-painted porcelain set consisting of
a sugar bowl with creamer and two matching candlesticks, were bound
likewise in webs of silken threads and dust made chains.
    Across the room, a mirrored china hutch
scattered light from a dirty window upon a potted ficus, its dead
branches casting spiny shadows against the wall in petrified veins.
To the right, another doorway, also curtained off, led to the
kitchen where Carlos would later find a stash of canned pork and
beans and try telling me that they were still good for another
twenty years. Fortunately, Spinelli would talk him out of taking
them, citing their potential value as evidence in an active
investigation.
    “I feel it,” said Lilith, circling the room
slowly, dragging her fingertips along the tops of the chairs as she
walked. “He wants us to make contact, here in this room, but he
doesn’t know how.”
    “Then he is with good company,” Ursula
replied. “For matters such as this I am most uncertain.”
    “There is nothing to it, Urs. All we have to
do is get his attention and help him focus. Watch.” She looked up
at the ceiling and traced the edges along the walls. “Hey, spirit,
what’s your name? You want to talk?”
    Ursula smiled at Lilith and teasingly. “Oh
yes, Sister, methinks that shall work. Doth not his manners owe
thee now an answer?”
    “What?”
    “Surely I know not the spirit ways, yet I
know where questions fail, commandments rule.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning, wish not what thee demand, but
demand what thee wish.” She crossed the room and ushered Lilith
back to the doorway. “I have seen this done but once in the circle
of witches.” She returned to the table and placed her hands over
the two candles, and with a snap of her fingers, lit them both.
Next, she broke off a twig from the dead ficus and placed it across
the candles, spanning the two flames like a bridge. As the two ends
of the twig began burning toward the center, she fell into a
whispered utterance of ancient speak. Slowly, the trembling in the
floorboards returned, marginal at first, but stronger as the flames
drew closer to one another along the twig. Lilith approached the
table from the opposite side and joined in the mantra, the words
seemingly less familiar to her, but no less effective. With her
voice added, the vibration below quickly grew to a shuddering
rumble that shook the walls, windows, and everything in the
room.
    Ursula broke the rhythm of the mantra and
pronounced a spell while Lilith looked on.
    “ Hear ye, spirit, announce thine name,
come show thy self upon this flame; come hither thou where light
burns yonder; embrace what fires now make thee stronger.”
    At once, the creeping flames erupted into a
curtain of fire several feet high. The girls leaned away from the
heat, but did not lose concentration. They reached below the twig
and coupled hands, and then Lilith joined in the recitation.
    “ Hear ye, spirit, announce thine name,
come show thy self upon this flame; come hither thou where light
burns yonder; embrace