Ceara’s head came up from his shoulder, and her beautiful blue eyes fixed on his with curiosity. “Ye ate
paint
?”
“It wasn’t poisonous, and I guess it looked good to me.”
Ceara looped an arm over her belly and burst into giggles. “What did yer da do?”
Quincy so enjoyed the ring of her laughter. If the sound could be bottled, he’d be a billionaire. “Dad says I was happy as a clam and grinned up at him with a blob of rainbow colors stuck between my two front teeth.”
Her mirth so overcame her that tears slipped down her cheeks. “Ach! Ye must ha been a mess!”
“Such a mess, according to him, that when he picked me up, he got paint all over himself, so we ended up in the shower together, with me da using his own toothbrush to get the stuff out from between my pearly whites because he couldn’t find my tiny one.” Quincy bent to kiss her forehead. “Back then, he was still struggling to make it as a horseman, so he says he couldn’t afford a new toothbrush and poured straight bleach over the old one before he used it again.”
Ceara giggled for nearly a full minute, recovering only to shake her head and start laughing again. “I see it. Clear as water in a barrel. Ach, what a moment!”
“And when he had me all dressed up cute, and himself all dressed again, he carried me downstairs to show me off, whispering to Mama that they had a hell of a mess to deal with upstairs. Later, praise God, Mama had an old toothbrush she’d saved for special cleaning chores, so they used that to scrub the ridges in the vertical slats of my crib rails, because I’d smeared the stuff everywhere.”
Ceara fixed sparkling blue eyes on him. “I may ne’er kiss you again, Sir Quincy.”
That set Quincy to laughing so hard that he nearly drove into the ditch.
* * *
The following morning, Quincy took his wife into Crystal Falls to go shopping for a crib. He parallel-parked on Main, because there was a specialty baby shop on the four-hundred block where he felt certain they would find high-quality baby furniture. Once inside, they spent some time at an infant rack, looking at tiny dresses, then moved on to consider the cribs. In the end, they saw no baby bed that interested them, but Quincy was quick to grab a flyer from a stack by the cash register.
“Lamaze classes.” He flapped the paper in front of Ceara’s nose. “It says most couples start taking them at six months along. We need to sign up.”
“What are Lamaze classes?”
Quincy was explaining to his wife as they left the shop and headed up the sidewalk toward his parked truck. Suddenly Ceara stopped dead in her tracks to stare at the display window of a place called Curbside Antiques. “What is it? Do you see something special?” Quincy peered through the glass. “We can go in if you like.”
“’Tis a crystal ball just like me mum’s,” Ceara whispered.
Quincy released his grasp on her elbow to step closer. Sure enough, there was a gigantic glass ball on display. It sat on a scarred wooden stand. He wasn’t much into hocus-pocus stuff, but he’d come to accept that it was serious business to his wife.
“Let’s have a look.” Quincy caught her hand and led her to the door, relieved to see an Open sign. An overhead bell clanged as they entered the shop, which had poor lighting. Quincy guessed it added to the
old
feeling, but the musty smell alone should have been enough. Ceara stepped around Quincy and went straight to the display.
“Ach,” she said softly. “’Tis me mum’s all o’er again, Quincy. Near exact the same.”
The clerk, an older fellow in tan Dockers, a blue-striped shirt, and brown loafers, hurried over. “I see you’re fascinated by the crystal ball. A lot of people come in just to get a closer look at it.”
Ceara had bent forward to peer deeply into the ball, as if answers to all life’s mysteries might be found there. “’Tis real,” she said.
“Oh, yes, of course. I’d never have it on display without first getting it appraised. It dates back to the middle seventeen hundreds.”
Quincy glanced at the man. “How much?”
“Well, sir, it isn’t cheap,” the fellow replied. “Not one of those dime-a-dozen new ones that you can find online. This is the genuine article, and the purchaser will, of course, receive a certificate of authenticity to verify its worth.”
“How much?” Quincy asked again.
“Twenty-five hundred, and that’s rock-bottom.”
Quincy almost laughed, but one glance at his wife’s yearning expression wiped all humor from his mind. He searched her pleading blue eyes. “Ceara, if I buy it for you, you’ve gotta
swear
you won’t try to use it until after the baby is born.”
She nodded. “I give ye me word, Quincy.”
Quincy relaxed and smiled. “So you really,
really
want that old thing?”
She placed a hand over her belly, looking so adorable in a blue floral maternity top and a gathered denim skirt that Quincy wanted to kiss her right there in the shop. “I do. ’Tis special to me, ye ken. Verra special.”
“Sold,” Quincy told the shopkeeper. “Make sure you bubble-wrap the sucker. I don’t want it getting broken on the way home.”
* * *
Ceara wanted her crystal ball in their bedchamber near one of the fireplace windows. “’Tis important for it to be in a high room. To home, Mum does her scrying in the little tower. She says ’tis easier there to focus.”
In one of the extra bedrooms, Quincy found a walnut-base pedestal table with a round marble top wide enough in diameter to accommodate the crystal ball and its stand.
“Out from the wall a bit,” Ceara directed, standing back and then circling to make sure he situated the table just right. “Ye need light, ye ken. To see things in the ball, I mean. It must be placed to catch the reflection of the fire at night and sunlight during the day.”
“You swore you wouldn’t use it,” Quincy reminded her.
She flashed a mischievous grin. “I did, yes, but I dinna say I wouldna ask Loni to try using it.”
Quincy didn’t relish the idea of all the hens gathered in his bedroom to peer into a crystal ball. Hell, before he knew it they’d be chanting and lighting candles on every available surface. On the other hand, when he considered the sacrifice Ceara had made by coming here, how could he deny her the chance to truly
connect
with her mum? He couldn’t imagine doing the same himself—leaving this land and his horses, and never being able to see his family again.
“’Twill be like yer television fer me, Quincy. If Loni can conjure up me mum and da in the ball, I shall see them again.” She steepled her fingers as if she were praying. “Please do na spoil this fer me, I beg ye.”
Quincy gathered her into his arms. She’d already given up so much to keep the baby safe—no more driving lessons, no more riding his horses or using her gifts. “It’s not that I want to spoil it for you, honey. I’m just worried is all. What if you forget and try to do some conjuring of your own? You know how weak you feel after using your gifts. It can’t be good for the baby.”
“I willna try.” She pressed her face against his shirt. “’Tis me word I give ye, Quincy. ’Twill be Loni, and only Loni who will try to see in the ball. I shall peer in only if she is successful. Looking willna hurt me or the babe.”
Quincy sighed and gently hugged her closer. “If you’re sure of that, I’ll support this one hundred percent.”
“’Tis verra certain I am. ’Twill be Loni’s power used, na mine.”
* * *
The next morning, Dee Dee volunteered to chauffeur Aliza to preschool and watch the child afterward while Loni spent the day with Ceara in the upstairs master suite, trying to conjure up images in the crystal ball. Ceara was so excited that she hurried Loni straight upstairs, promising to serve her guest some refreshments later.
“I’ve never used a crystal ball,” Loni warned. “I’ve never needed one. By touching your hand, I can go back in time to see your parents, but I honestly don’t know if I can do anything with this particular medium.”
Loni angled her chin forward to peer into the sphere. After a long moment, she smiled apologetically at Ceara. “I’m sorry. I see nothing. I know you’d love it if I could call up images of your family, but I’m afraid it’s not going to work.”
Ceara closed her eyes. ’Twas too great a temptation to peer into the ball herself and try to call up images. “Me mum speaks softly to the ball, a prayer of sorts, if ye will, asking to see what she wishes to see.”
“Did your mum have any one special prayer she used?”
Just then Ceara glimpsed Quincy in the open doorway that led to the hall. He winked at her. “I’m going to leave you ladies and go to the stable.” He patted his cell phone. “If you need me, just wing a text my way.”
Ceara nodded, blew him a kiss, and returned her attention to Loni. “’Tis uncertain I am if ye should use me mum’s words or if ye should simply speak from yer own heart.”
Loni nodded and focused on the ball again. Then she began speaking softly. “Powers that be, allow me to see, in this sphere of glass, the people Ceara loves in a time long past.”
Nothing. Ceara’s heart sank. She felt like crying, but gave herself a stern mental lecture to battle the tears. If she wept, Loni would feel responsible, and ’twas not her fault if scrying wasn’t one of her gifts.
But Loni was determined. “Ceara,” she said, straightening away from the ball, “one of the things wrong here is that we have no
mood
.”
“Mood?”
Loni laughed, her blue eyes dancing. “Yes,
mood
. I’m a very prayerful psychic. I truly believe my gift comes directly from God. At home when I work with the FBI, I keep religious things around me: a crucifix on the wall above my computer, a Holy Bible on my desk.” In a lower voice, she added, “I even bless my work area each morning by sprinkling holy water around it. It centers me, helps me stay focused.”
Quincy’s bedchamber crucifix was hung on the wall above the bed, clear across the room. Ceara ran to fetch it.
“Be careful,” Loni cried. “You can’t be standing on the mattress in your condition. Let me climb up there to get it.”
While Loni fetched the cross, Ceara hurried downstairs to get Quincy’s Bible from the living room. She’d stopped in the kitchen to get some tea lights and a lighter when Loni called down from upstairs, “I have a travel-size bottle of holy water in my purse. It’s in the big pocket with a zipper. Get my rosary out of there, too.”
Ceara was breathless by the time she gained the top of the stairs. She took a moment to rest and then entered the bedchamber to help Loni create the right mood. “Me mum has her Bible and rosary with her in the little tower room when she sees inside the ball. Mayhap ye’re right, and one canna
see
without religious things near at hand.”
Loni chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but for me, knowing that God is holding my hand makes all the difference. No matter how it’s sliced, psychic ventures can very easily become dark. I always surround myself with my faith for protection.”
Ceara agreed. “If it comes na from God, I want no part of it, either.”
Once everything was arranged to Loni’s liking, she and Ceara both knelt near the pedestal table to bless themselves with holy water and say a decade of the rosary, asking the Virgin Mother for intercession. They followed with several recitations of the Lord’s Prayer.
Afterward Loni sprinkled holy water all around the pedestal table while Ceara lighted the candles. Then Loni gazed into the crystal again, whispering the prayer she’d said before. As if acting on instinct, she lightly moved her hands over the crystal, whispering, “Let the light that’s within me enter this ball. Let all sight that comes through me shine bright in these depths.” Then, suddenly, Loni lifted one hand from the glass to reach toward Ceara. “That’s what’s missing. I’m not touching you.”
Ceara stepped closer to grasp Loni’s fingers. Loni said, “Don’t look deeply into the glass. Let me be the one to do this. Promise? Quincy will have my head if anything happens to you or the baby.”
“Ye’ve me word on it.”
With her free hand, Loni stroked the crystal again. “Powers that be, allow me to see, in this sphere of glass, the people Ceara loves in a time long past. Let the light that’s within me enter this ball. Let all sight that comes through me shine bright in these depths.”
A strange glow surrounded the crystal sphere, creating shimmery sparkles similar to a halo. Ceara’s pulse kicked. She felt Loni’s hand tighten on hers. The glow surrounded the hand Loni had left resting on the crystal, then suddenly went out. Loni jumped and Ceara heard her gasp faintly.
Then Ceara saw that familiar, distant expression enter her sister-in-law’s eyes. Ceara felt a tingling on her skin. It seemed to her that the very air in the room grew charged with some unseen force.
“I see them,” Loni whispered. “And, oh, Ceara, so much more clearly now than before. Your mum is so
lovely
!”
Ceara inched closer to the sphere, paying special attention to how she felt and any sudden movement of the babe in her womb as she directed her gaze deep into the murky crystal. The babe didn’t move. Ceara experienced no sense of weakness. Something flickered, swirled, formed into her mum’s sweet face.
Home
. The rock walls of the tower room, the arched opening that looked out on the land around the manor, her mum’s chair over near the hearth, where an afternoon fire burned cheerfully in the grate. Ceara took a deep breath and slowly released it, once again taking measure of any physical effect this connection might be having on her.
Nothing
. She felt right as rain. ’Twas Loni’s gift at work, not her own. Ceara felt certain there would be no danger to her or her child.
“Mum!” she cried, touching the fingertips of her free hand to the glass. “Oh, me sweet mum!”
Ceara’s mother gazed back at her with tears in her eyes. “Ye’re growing big with child,” she said, her voice faint but clear. “I’ve been watching ye in me ball and seeing yer middle swell, but I ne’er dreamed ye might find a way to see me as well! Ach, ’tis a miracle that brings tears to me old eyes, Ceara, me darling girl.”
Ceara was so happy she felt a little light-headed, not from any physical stress, but simply because she’d thought ne’er to see her mum again. Clinging tightly to her friend’s hand, she had the presence of mind to say, “Mum, ’tis me sister-in-law Loni, here with me. Ye’ve seen her before, if ye recall. She is wife to Clint, me husband’s eldest brother. Loni, meet me mum, Daireann Eibhlin O’Ceallaigh.”