Dead Stream Curse: A Northern Michigan Asylum Novel by J.R. Erickson

Author:J.R. Erickson [Erickson, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

August 1945

Liv

* * *

“Eternity of Darkness,” Stephen announced after he’d spent an hour buried in George’s book, reading every curse it contained.

Liv arranged a circle of stones on a patch of hard sand.

“We can’t do that one,” she told him. “That’s a death curse. We’re not going to kill her, Stephen.”

“I thought we were going to kill her,” Stephen mused, the cunning twinkle back in his eye.

Liv looked up and frowned, unable to read if he was serious or not.

“I liked the sulphurous odor curse,” Liv offered, completing the circle.

“You want to make her stink?” Stephen rolled his eyes.

Liv stood and walked to where Stephen sat on a stump.

She flipped the pages toward the front of the book.

“Or this one sounds interesting.”

She pointed to a curse titled Night Haunts.

He read it, though Liv knew he’d already read all the curses, likely more than once.

“Mildly intriguing,” he admitted.

“Then it’s decided.” She leaned over the book. “I’ll get the bat poop; valerian has to be collected on the full moon. You can join me if you’d like. The curse bag needs to be made from a personal item that belongs to the recipient. You’ll have to get something of Veronica’s.”

Stephen sat up, nodding as she talked.

“I’ve seen her around town. She always wears that ridiculous yellow scarf.”

Liv shook her head.

“She’ll recognize it. We have to make it from something personal she won’t immediately recognize. Or we can dye the scarf with blueberries. Okay, yeah, get the scarf.”

“Yes!” Stephen stood from the stump and paced away. “If this works, Liv. We could try other spells, we could…”

“Stephen, we’ve got to copy this spell down so I can get the book back to George. He may already know it’s gone. He-”

“Let me take it home,” Stephen insisted, picking up the book and holding it against his chest. “Please? I swear I’ll bring it back tomorrow. I’ll copy the spell tonight.”

Liv looked at Stephen’s pleading eyes, pale and sparkling. She bit her lip, knew she should say no, and nodded instead.

“Okay. But you have to bring it tomorrow. Don’t forget.”

“Cross my heart,” he told her, slipping the book into his bag. “Now let’s get on with this invoking Freya business.

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