The Devil's Hand by Cross Amy

Author:Cross, Amy [Cross, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dark Season Books
Published: 2015-12-17T08:00:00+00:00

IV

“Are we trying tonight?” a voice whispers in the darkness.

Turning, I look over at Catherine's bed and see her face staring back at me in the gloom.

“Are we going to try to contact Abigail again?” she continues, with a hint of excitement. “Only, Mary and some of the other girls are going to try something and they invited us. If we're not doing our thing, maybe we could go and sit with them for a while? You know, just to see how it goes and lend our support. And it's always possible that they might actually conjure poor Abigail up, isn't it?”

“I'm too tired,” I reply.

“That's rotten. You don't mind if I go, do you?”

“Of course not,” I tell her, and she immediately shoots up out of bed and hurries to the far end of the dormitory. I doubt Mary will have much luck contacting the fairy gods or whatever she's up to, but I suppose it can't hurt for them to try. After all, it doesn't matter how Abigail comes back to us, only that she does and that she's able to tell us how she really died.

Turning back to look over at the other side of the room, I spot Sissy's empty bed. I hate to think of her all alone in the infirmary, probably sobbing and in pain, but Doctor Ratcliffe wouldn't let me sleep in there with her and apparently she's too sick to come back in with the rest of us. I suppose her bed will be empty permanently from Monday, and I still haven't quite accepted that she'll be going home.

I'll miss old Sissy.

A short while later, less than an hour, I hear the door creaking open and I turn to see Catherine and a few others sneaking back into the dormitory.

“Any luck?” I ask, although I'm pretty sure I already know the answer.

“It was stupid,” Catherine mutters as she gets into bed. “Mary was just going on and on about someone named Oberon, asking him if he and the other fairies could get Abigail to come and talk to us. I mean, you'd have to be pretty stupid to believe in something like that, wouldn't you?”

“I suppose so,” I mutter.

“The whole thing was utterly childish,” she adds in that slightly haughty tone she affects from time to time. “So are we going to try your method again tomorrow night?”

“Maybe.”

“What's wrong?” she asks. “You're not losing interest, are you? We need to conjure Abigail's ghost somehow, or we won't ever find out what killed her.”

“Absolutely,” I reply, “I just... We've been trying for a while now and nothing has worked. I think maybe we should take some time to come up with a few new ideas. Study the whole thing first before diving in again, take a more academic approach to the whole thing. There's obviously something we're not doing right, and only a fool keeps banging her head against the wall like this.”

“So what do you have in mind?”

“I'm not sure yet,” I continue, “but I'll let you know when I have something.

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