Global Disclaimer: All BtVS characters belong to FOX and the marvelous Mr. Joss Whedon. This story is for entertainment purposes only. The author intends neither profit nor defamation herein. Also, Dr. William Robert Woodman was an actual person. (Look him up if you find him interesting.) I mean no ill will toward his memory or his estate by his inclusion in this story, only the utmost respect and interest. This is just for fun and frolic, folks.

Feedback: Reviews give me a happy but I promise not to string up anyone's fish over it.  If reviewing on the site is not your style, you can also drop me a line at my email center geekwitch@1witch.com. Anything letting me know other people are reading what I write is greatly appreciated.

Summary: This is the tale of how Cecily got from where we last left her at the end of my story, Bloody Marvelous, to becoming the vengeance demon (yes, she prefers justice demon) known as Halfrek. You may want to read Bloody Marvelous first if you have not already.

A/N: I know that a lot of you are not Cecily fans. Bear with me and give the story a chance. I promise it will be well worth your while. Ok, here we go.
 
 

Chapter 1 - The Day After

They found disaster in the morning. The police had been sent by the owner's wife when her husband had failed to come home. Reluctant men, certain the husband had simply found greener pastures, entered the bar. It didn't take a second to realize the husband was never going home again. The smell of blood overwhelmed them, extreme even to human senses. Several bobbies lost their breakfasts, stomachs simply not prepared for what they saw in the dim tavern.

They found her by the bar. She had managed to at least move enough so that she no longer sat on top of the dead tavern owner. One could easily see where she had shimmied her way across the floor by the trail of blood she had pulled with her from the body. Chafed skin, in places to the point of bleeding, gave evidence to the fact she had tried to escape her bonds for some time. Red rimmed eyes showed the girl must have cried herself to her uneasy sleep. She was the lucky one, the only one found still alive.

Inspector Percy Thomas sat forward in his chair, elbows resting on his desk. He searched the face of the girl sitting in his office. "Perhaps you should see another doctor, Miss Addams."

She was flustered. "Why should I see another doctor? I told you they did nothing to me." Realization hit her hard. "You mean a mind doctor, do you not? You think me to be mad."

He continued to stare, unblinking, into her eyes. "What should I think? You come in here and give me stories of dead men come back to exact vengeance upon the living. If that really happened, there would be no need for police. All crimes would be punished by the victims at some point." He sighed. " I know you have had a difficult time these last few days. You knew the dead man you claimed to see well, did you not? You also said one of the men who was killed last night joked about seeing this William a few days ago at the theater. Perhaps in your distress, that seed planted in your mind grew into this delusion. A doctor might help you see past this so we can find who really did this horrible thing. I only want to help you, Miss Addams."

She relented, fear of being branded mad and spending her life in a madhouse welling in her heart. "Perhaps I just need some rest." She attempted a weak smile at the inspector. "Could we talk again tomorrow instead?"

Leaving the office, tears still in her eyes at the fact nobody would believe her story, Cecily found another with even more tears to shed. Her dearest friend had lost her world in the massacre. The poor girl sat alone on a bench near the door, everyone else in the station giving her a wide berth. Cecily decided she could put aside her own troubles for the moment. Wiping away her own tears, she stepped forward.

Lucinda barely raised her head as Cecily approached her. "I keep thinking that I must hurry home to ready myself because the wedding is only a few hours away." Sobs ran through her with renewed vigor.

Cecily sat on the bench next to her friend. "Lulu, what are you doing here?" Childhood nicknames flow so naturally in times of crisis. "Come then. We'll soon see you home." She tried to get Lucinda to her feet but the girl resisted.

Lucinda wrested away from Cecily's hands. "Everyone is there waiting, Cessy. They all expect a wedding." Tears came again. "Not a funeral. I cannot go back there yet." She sniffled into her handkerchief and dried her eyes.

"We shall see to it together."

Inspector Thomas kindly arranged for a carriage to take the girls to Lucinda Westcott's home. On the last leg of the trip, they passed many carriages moving away from the home; word had evidently reached there regarding Jonathon's untimely demise along with the deaths of several other of London society's favored young men. Those five losses dealt a heavy blow to the social circles.

Two girls with heavy hearts exited the carriage and walked up the path to the front door.
 
 

Chapter 2 - Making Plans

Most of the wedding guests left before the girls arrived. The few that remained only stayed long enough to offer their condolences to Lucinda before making a hasty retreat from the awkward situation. Mrs. Addams, Cecily's mother was the last to leave. She stood near the front door with her daughter, both women looking quite upset. Mrs. Addams pulled her daughter into a tight hug. "You certain you want to stay here? Maybe you should come home and get some rest, dear."

Cecily pulled out of her mother's embrace with resolve. "Lulu needs me, Mummy. Could you send some more of my things over? I should stay with her for a few days."

Mrs. Addams blinked back her tears. "Of course, dear. I'm just so happy that you made it through that ordeal alive. I did not think how hard this must be for her."

Cecily opened the door to Lucinda's bedroom slowly. Lucinda sat on the end of her bed, packed trunks covering the floor where her gaze lay. "We were to go to Exeter to stay with my Uncle first. He was unable to come to London for the wedding." She lifted a silk undergarment from the nearest trunk. "He will still be expecting us." She dropped the item back into the trunk, lifting her gaze to look at her friend. "Is it true, what they say you saw?"

Cecily choked on a gasp at the question. "It cannot be, can it? The inspector must be correct. It was traumatic. Maybe my memories will be clearer after a rest. Please, do not think less of me for my frightened delusions."

Lucinda said, "But you misunderstand me, Cessy. I believe you saw things just as they say. It really was William, was it not?"

Cecily sighed, relief coursing through her that someone, her closest friend, believed her sane, after all. "Yes, Lulu. It was him, indeed. But how?"

"Perhaps a spell. We could ask my uncle. Come with me to Exeter. Maybe there is something that can still be done."

Cecily, becoming more uncomfortable with every sentence her friend spoke, shook with fear. "What are you saying? Someone brought back the dead? I had thought only that he had been buried mistakenly. That would explain his hostility, would it not. What you suggest is..."

Lucinda stopped her with one word. "Madness?" She smiled through her tear streaked face. "Blasphemy? I thought you would believe after what you saw."

Cecily, almost yelling in her fright, said, "I could not have seen what I thought I saw." She took a few breaths to calm down before continuing. "There were things I did not dare tell the police. Things that cannot have happened."

Lucinda grabbed both of Cecily's hands in hers. "Tell me what you saw. If spells were involved, maybe it can still be undone. Maybe we can still save them."

Cecily's eyes grew wide. "How could we?"

"Come with me to Exeter, please. I know my uncle could help us."

When Cecily's things arrived, they sent the Addams' manservant back with word that Cecily would accompany Lucinda on what was to have been her honeymoon. They would send a letter when they reached Exeter. They condensed the things Lucinda would need into one trunk so they would only have two pieces of luggage to mind, then departed.

The train depot teemed with life, pushing and shoving at the two haggard girls who tried to walk through the crowd toward their train. An old woman, blind, by the looks of her white eyes, reached up from where she sat against the wall and grabbed Cecily's skirt, halting the girls' progress. "Dead is dead. You have no right to bring them back." Cecily pulled her skirt from the woman's grasping hand, eliciting a scream from her tired old throat. The two girls increased their pace, glancing back only to see that their luggage was loaded on the train.

They boarded the train hastily. Once they found a seat, Cecily opened the window to look back at the old woman from the safety of the train car. "How could she know we talked of the dead being brought back?"

Lucinda, not nearly as frightened as her companion, answered, "My mother always said the blind could see more than those who have eyes when it comes to the world of the spirits." She helped Cecily settle into a seat. "Relax for a while. There is nothing to do until we reach my uncle Will."

Cecily took off her hat, placing it on the seat next to her. "How can you be so calm? Jonathan and Richard are both dead."

Lucinda answered her soothingly. "Have you not figured it out yet? The dead can walk again, Cessy."
 
 

Chapter 3 - Intentions

"Have you not figured it out yet? The dead can walk again, Cessy." Lucinda's voice almost echoed in the small area. The words did echo in Cecily's head, repeatedly. Cecily could feel them, spinning around, blotting out all other thought.

The sound of the train's whistles blasted through the air. On the platform, people hurried to board the train. Indistinguishable voices yelled unknown words in the distance, and some near by. Thumping sounds of last minute luggage being tossed aboard rumbled across the floorboards. Lucinda closed the window Cecily had opened to keep out the fumes and noise as the engine built up steam.

Cecily stared into nowhere until the train lurched to a start, causing her to slide forward in her rear facing seat. Pushing herself back against her seat, she was so distracted she tore the hem of her dress, upon which the heel of her boot rested. The ripping sound went unnoted. She spoke to herself more than to her friend. "I am perfectly sane, then. It was really William and he really was dead."

Lucinda loudly let out the breath she had been holding and spoke in a calm voice. "Exactly what I have been trying to tell you for the past two hours."

Cecily was piecing it all together in her brain, trying desperately to keep hold of her aforementioned sanity. Her grip was rapidly slipping. "Witches." She paused, hoping her friend would contradict her but she had no such fortune. "Are we talking about witches, broomsticks and pet toads included?" The laugh started low in her chest as a rumble and grew in frequency and volume until she was nearly shrieking with it.

Lucinda moved from her own seat to sit next to Cecily, placing a hand lightly over Cecily's mouth to stop her hysterics. "Take a deep breath." She pulled her hand away to let Cecily do just that. "Now, are you going to calm yourself and listen to me?" Cecily made a small noise, between breaths, that sounded like an assent. "Good girl. I cannot have you falling apart on me now, Cessy. I need all the help you can give me."

When Cecily finally nodded and appeared to be listening, Lucinda continued. "First, magic has nothing to do with witches flying around on broomsticks and stealing babies out of cribs. Nobody gets turned into a toad. Do you remember meeting my uncle Will when we were but young girls?" She paused and looked to her friend for a sign to go on with her story.

Cecily blinked at her for a moment, deep in thought. She tried to remember back, despite how overloaded her brain was. "Strange old man. Always dressed as if it were Sunday?"

"Exactly." She smiled. "Well, thing is, he knows things other people would never dream, how to do things other people do not know how to do." She looked at her hands, suddenly acting nervous. "He used to tell me stories when we would visit him. Once, he told me, he helped a friend of his bring back his wife. Mother made him stop telling me any more before I got any detail from him." She laughed. "Mother said she was afraid he would frighten me so I shouldn't sleep for weeks."

Cecily, putting an arm around her companion's shoulders, found the nerve to speak. "They were fairy tales, Lulu. He only meant to frighten you."

Lucinda looked directly into Cecily's eyes, holding her still with a piercing gaze. "I thought so, at first but then I overheard him arguing with Mother." She put her hands on Cecily's knees. "Mother knew the stories he told were real, you see. That was why she really hated his telling them to me. She feared I would join him in his studies if he made it sound enticing. Mother thought him a heretic." She pleaded. "Only promise me you will be open minded when we arrive in Exeter. He is the only hope we have."

Cecily nodded, eyes full of fear. It took a moment for her to find the breath to speak. "I will try. Heaven help us, Lulu, but I will try."

Lucinda smiled, seemingly satisfied with the answer. "Splendid. He has a library there I snuck into once. Among the books I saw there, I know he must have some way to help us. I will get Jonathan back, Cessy. I must. If you wanted, we could try to save Richard, as well. I don't know what the cost will be but I know I cannot ask for your help without attempting to help you as well." She smiled again. "Or, maybe you would prefer one of the others. I know you lost four suitors in one night. What am I saying; of course you would want Richard. You were so obviously fond of him."

Cecily stalled. "We shall see what your uncle says, first." They made the rest of the trip with only light talk passing between them, neither wanting to admit the strange sense of foreboding they felt.

A/N: Just in case, I better say it before I start with the mystical mumbo jumbo. If you happen to be Rosicrucian or know much about their philosophies, please keep in mind that the people I mention in this story are people who would later help form The Golden Dawn, a group considered heretics by many Rosicrucian and visionaries by others. I'm not expressing either opinion and don't wish to start any flames coming my way. I  have no quarrel with any philosophers or practitioners. Any liberties I take are in the interest of the story, alone. Thanks for understanding.

Chapter 4 - Exeter

Letter - Cecily Addams to her Mother - 1880

Mother Dearest,

 Lucinda and I have arrived safely at Exeter and await a coach that is to take us to her uncle's estate. She said one was supposed to meet us here but it appears to be late. I do not mind the wait. The air is so fresh here. Everything is in bloom, sending a wafting smell of blossoms on each gentle breeze. Everyone who left the train with us smiled and laughed. At times I find it difficult to remember why I am here but then it all comes back to me so quickly.

 I want you to know I am feeling much better now. In my attempt at making you more comfortable, I would offer you this. The delusions I offered as explanation to the inspector no longer plague my mind. I see them for what they really were. Now, all I feel is an overwhelming grief and sorrow for the loss of such dear friends. I wish you not to worry for me. I will be fine, Mummy. I promise.

 Lucinda is handling the loss of poor, dear Jonathan better than I could have hoped. All will work out for the best in the end, of that I am certain. I will try to write again soon.

With Love,
Cessy

Cecily posted her letter, written to make her seem far more full of cheer than she really felt, just as their coach arrived at the station. She sighed, glancing at her friend who was telling the carriage driver which trunks were theirs. She hadn't the heart to admit to her mother that she had been correct in her assumption about Lucinda's delicate condition. Seeing Lucinda start to lift the end of one of the trunks, Cecily ran toward the carriage. "No, Lulu. Let me do that." She reached the carriage within a few seconds, pulling her friend's hands off the trunk handle. "You should be resting, dear."

Cecily helped the driver get the trunks situated atop the carriage, noticing as she did how empty the station had become in such a short time, leaving no one there to help the driver save the girls themselves. The trunks placed, Cecily turned around to have a better look at her surroundings. All the other passengers had long since departed, leaving the station with a ghostly feeling which sent chills through Cecily, as if the air were suddenly at freezing temperature. While Cecily watched, a figure stepped out from behind one of the pillars that held up the platform roof, the old woman from London.

Cecily gasped and grabbed a hold of Lucinda's sleeve, shaking it a bit to get her attention. "Look. Do you see her?"

Lucinda, clearly annoyed by the yank on her arm, looked in the direction Cecily indicated but nothing was there to be seen, nobody was on the platform. "See what? Nothing is there."

Cecily, shaken, said, "I must have imagined it." She tried to laugh but it came out as a squeak. "My nerves are a bit frazzled, I think."

The drive through the countryside lifted their spirits somewhat, too difficult to maintain a funk when so many pretty sights passed by the windows. Lucinda soon began pointing out places and things she remembered from previous visits. They passed a lake where Lucinda swam when she was a child, unaware of who might be watching and uncaring of the impropriety.

They reached the gates to the estate just as the sun was setting. Purple and gold, mixed across the sky like a watercolor painting, set off the tall, white house, making it glow, ethereal. Four stories high, the house would have towered over the landscape were it not for the gigantic trees flanking it, trees older than the house itself by a good many decades, at least. More windows than Cecily could count at a glance, graced the front side of the house. She wondered how many rooms one old man and a few servants could need.

The driver opened the door of the carriage for the girls. He helped each of them down the single step to the earth.  The girls walked, as if in a daze, toward the front door. The driver passed them along the way, opening the door for them. He led them to the library and left without a word, presumably to inform his master of their arrival.

Lucinda, accustomed to her surroundings, sat in the leather wing chair, near the empty hearth. She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Is it not lovely here?"

Cecily, however, busily studied the room. Books covered the walls everywhere but the doorway and the window, in front of which sat a large, oak desk. She saw something hung in a frame on the visible flat of the desk and decided to bend down to have a closer look. It was an odd looking parchment, upon which the only words she could decipher were "Hermes Trismegistus." All else was in a script she found illegible. A plaque that stated, "Dr. William Robert Woodman, Editor" held a place on one corner of the desk. A voice from the doorway interrupted her thoughts.

"Edmund said you were here, my dear." A man Cecily assumed to be Dr. Woodman walked toward Lucinda. "But I am left in wonderment, where is your new husband?"
 
 

Chapter 5 - Uncle William

Lucinda started crying immediately. Everything she had been holding in while keeping up a brave front finally came rushing out as she threw herself into her uncle's waiting arms. Once floodgates open, the waters move quickly. He held her, letting her sob into his chest. A puzzled look on his face, he asked, "What happened?"

Lucinda hiccupped a little, trying to stop the tears. "You have to help me, Uncle Will." She pulled away, drying her tears and walked toward Cecily. "Cessy, please explain what happened." She went back to the wing chair, sitting, wiping her eyes and waiting for Cecily to speak.

To say Cecily was startled would be akin to saying the Queen was a bit plump. Her eyes darted from Lucinda to Dr. Woodman and back. "Oh. Dear me. Of course." She stepped in front of the doctor. "You may remember me. My name is Cecily Addams. We met a few years ago."

The doctor took her proffered hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a light kiss across the knuckles. "My, yes. Indeed I do, Miss Addams, although I dare say you have grown a mite since we last met." Catching himself, he frowned. "Now, what occurred to bring you here instead of my new nephew? I was looking forward to meeting the young man but perhaps I should not say that. Did something stop the wedding?"

Cecily moved toward the sofa, gesturing for him to sit. "Maybe we should all have a seat for this."

Dr. Woodman sat back in his desk chair, pipe smoke drifting out his nostrils. "And you are absolutely positive it was the same man. You know for a fact that he was deceased?" He took another puff from his pipe while Cecily nodded. "Well, perhaps something can be done. If mystical forces were indeed involved, we have a chance of bringing them back."

Cecily took a breath to steady her voice. "What of their faces?" She made a disgusted face. "They changed, somehow. They looked like demons, sharp teeth and yellow eyes."

He answered directly. "You say you saw her rip a man's throat out with her teeth. I think you already know how that is possible if you care to admit it or not. Only one creature of which I have read grows fangs and drinks blood."

She laughed nervously. "Vampires? Surely you jest with me. That is impossible, doctor."

He took some time before answering, choosing instead to tap the ash out of his pipe and repack it with tobacco. "Why is it any more or less impossible than any other means of the dead walking again? You saw him yourself, Miss Addams." He lit the pipe, taking a long drag and letting it out in rings. "Such as that may be, it could be lucky for us. If you will let me have some time to research, a few hours or so, I think I can find a way to help. Edmund can show you up to your rooms so you can get some rest."

Inspector Percy Thomas knocked on the door to the Addams' abode in the late afternoon. He had thought Miss Addams would be back by his office by then. Questions still needed answers. His only witness to a mass murder surprised him by having the audacity to break her word about coming to see him.

He presented his badge to the woman who answered the door and was led to the sitting room to wait. The sofa looked inviting to his tired, old bones. He sat alone for some time, trying to occupy himself with a magazine that had been left on the sofa table. He stood when heard someone enter the room, at last.

The woman who entered the room was not the woman he expected to see. This woman was much older although looked very much similar to the sought Miss Addams. She spoke. "Inspector Thomas, is it not? I am Mrs. Addams, Cecily's mother."

Of course that's who she was. It would explain the resemblance. "Mrs. Addams, a pleasure to meet you. However, I was needing to speak with Miss Addams about the case, you see."

Mrs. Addams frowned. "She is not here. I thought she would have mentioned she was leaving. She went with her friend, Miss Westcott, to Exeter to visit with the poor girl's uncle." She sighed. "Poor dear, it was to have been her honeymoon."

The inspector was understandably perturbed. "You mean to say the key witness to my investigation left town without speaking to me?" He ran a hand through his thinning hair in exasperation. "Can you at least answer a few questions for me?"

After a few minutes worth of talk, Inspector Thomas left the Addams' with a new plan of attack. The case was still open. He still needed answers. He would just have to go to Exeter to get them.
 
 

Chapter 6 - Spells and Dreams

The house, even larger than Cecily had first thought, was also even grander. Every piece of furniture she passed, every painting, was breathtaking. Edmund took the girls upstairs to a large bedroom, which had a balcony that looked out the back of the house. They stood looking at the room, afraid to touch anything. Lucinda's uncle had gone the distance for the newlyweds.

The room was absolutely gorgeous. A rich, red brocade duvet covered the bed. The bed curtains were black lace, intricate in their weave. Matching black lace curtains adorned the French doors that led to the balcony. An iron candelabrum, with beeswax candles ablaze, sat on the nightstand to the left of the bed, a vase of red roses on the stand to the right.

A room, fit for lovers, would instead be occupied by two road weary young women, fast asleep within minutes. They slept through dinner and also through the night, allowing Dr. Woodman the time he needed to search his books and contact a few old friends.

Five gentlemen searched the bookcases in the Woodman private library that night. Dr. Woodman and his friends and colleagues were trying to find the spell they had used only once, years before. They worked without speaking, none of them wanting to talk about what had happened the last time these particular powers had been invoked. Sometimes the price one paid to reach a desired goal was extremely high. Sometimes the prize was found unworthy of the effort.

A heavy book, complete with leather cover so old it no longer looked like skin, hit the desk. "This is the one you want, William." All the men in the library turned to the one who had spoken. He flipped the book open, pages making a crackling sound as he did so. The others gathered behind him, looking down at the pages, flipping by slowly so that they could find the right one. The page found, the man spoke again, softer. "Is she certain she wants to do this? We all know how..." He stopped.

Dr. Woodman placed a hand on the man's shoulder in comfort. "Yes, Henry. She is certain." Henry did not look at him. So, he went on. "We have grown so much since then in our knowledge. It will not go wrong this time."

Henry ran his fingers across the words on the page. "I wish I were as confident of our abilities as you are." Five grim faces continued to read the page.

Morning sun crept through the open French doors to beam across the bed, bathing the sleeping friends in its warm glow. Lucinda's eyes fluttered open. She stretched, still dreamy, until she suddenly remembered her surroundings. She checked the clock on the wall. It was 9 o' clock, meaning they had slept over sixteen hours. This shouldn't have come as a surprise since neither of them had slept a wink on the train the night before. Still, Lucinda shook her companion hurriedly. "Cessy, wake up. We should head downstairs and see what Uncle has found."

Cecily dreamt on, her subconscious mind assimilating the touch into her dream. The dark haired woman laughed as she pushed Cecily atop the corpse. Startled awake, Cecily's eyes popped open. She sat bolt upright, sheet held against her pounding chest. For a moment, Lucinda's hand, still clutching her shoulder, had felt as cold as that of the strange woman from the night in the tavern. "Dear Lord, you gave me a fright." She took the time to compose herself. "Did we sleep all night?"

Lucinda got out of the bed and began dressing. "Yes. Now, hurry, please. I want to see what he found for us." Cecily got out of the bed as well and walked to their luggage. Together, the two hurried to greet the day.

They checked the library first, only to find it deserted and quite a mess, books piled all over the floor. Just as they were pondering where else to look for Dr. Woodman, Edmund entered the room. "Pardon me, ladies, but the doctor has requested your presence at brunch on the patio. Would you follow me, please?"

They followed him through the center of the house, through a large drawing room and out a set of doors to a cobblestone patio in back of the house. Dr. Woodman, sitting with the newspaper at a white metal table and chairs, set down the paper and stood as the girls approached. "Good morning, ladies. I trust you slept well enough."

Lucinda, sitting down, said, "Yes, thank you but..." Her uncle cut her off with a stern glance, indicating with a twitch of his head that they were to wait for Edmund to leave before speaking of their issue.

Edmund, not knowing there was a hurry, carefully placed the ladies' breakfasts before them and filled their water glasses before picking up the tray and heading for the house. "If you require anything else, I shall be glad to oblige."

As soon as the butler was out of hearing range, Lucinda asked, "What have you found?"
 
 

Chapter 7 - Answers

Dr. Woodman pulled a book out from under his stack of Newspaper, the same book the men had studied in the library. The cover had been cleaned off a bit, leaving the title legible. It read, "The Book of Coming Forth by Day." He placed it in front of his niece casually, as if it were an ordinary novel. "I suspect you have never seen this book before, my dear."

Lucinda touched the cover lightly, fingers shaking. "This book will help me to bring my Jonathan back?"

He smiled and placed a hand on top of hers, trapping it on the book. "It will if you know how to interpret it correctly, which I do." He let go of her hand and took the book from her when she pulled her hand away. "Are you familiar at all with the Egyptian gods?" Receiving two blank stares, he continued anyway. "Osiris lived his life as a Pharaoh but was later resurrected by his wife, Isis. He now guides others through the process he himself underwent. It is he you must entreat to bring back Jonathan's ka."

Cecily, truly puzzled, asked, "Bring back his what?"

He slid the book back under the newspaper. "His ka would be his life force. You might want to call it a soul but it really is more complicated than that. The ba is also part of the soul, that which we would consider his personality."

Lucinda looked afraid. "We must bring that back as well, correct? Otherwise, it would not really be Jonathan."

He smiled at her a bit indulgently. "You always were very perceptive, my dear. That is precisely what we aim to do. There are a few things we will need to have on hand."

Edmund was sent out for the rest of the day on various errands to free those at the house from prying eyes and listening ears. When the girls went down to the library that afternoon, they found that all the furnishings had been removed, save the built in bookcases, and the rug had been rolled back. Mystical symbols, none of which the girls could understand, had been burned into the wood floor. Cecily saw a pile of roses, the blooms only, piled in a metal dish and tried to draw Lucinda's attention to it. "What do you suppose those are for?"

A deep voice answered from behind them, making both girls jump. "Roses are a symbol of rebirth. There are fourteen in the bowl, offerings for Osiris."

Dr. Woodman came to stand beside the man who was a stranger to the girls. "Are we ready, then? I see you have met Henry. He is here to help with the spell. Shall we?" A loud knock on the front door came before anyone could answer him. "Stay here. I shall see who is here."

The doctor led Cecily back toward the drawing room. She resisted, wanting nothing more than to complete the spell and go home. "I have no wish to see anyone right now."

The doctor answered a bit sarcastically. "You should develop a wish to see this person. It would be in your best interests."

Cecily gasped when the man who had been looking out the door to the patio turned around. "Inspector Thomas, I did not expect to see you here."

"Why not, Miss Addams? I do believe you promised to come back to the station for some more questions. Imagine my surprise when your mother told me you had left London."

"I can explain." Cecily ventured.

"There is no need. I know you merely accompanied your friend, unthinking of the consequences to the case at hand. Dr. Woodman is a well respected man in these parts. The local constabulary has assured me he will see to it you come to the station here tomorrow, which I have already asked him to do. I assume I need not remind you again. Shall we say tomorrow at midday?"

After seeing the inspector to the door, Dr. Woodman asked Cecily, "I know why she is willing to risk this but why are you? It was have been so much easier for you to have stayed in London. I feel the need to know before we continue with the ceremony."

Cecily answered, "What reason do I need for wishing to help her. She is my friend. Is that not reason enough?"

He pressed. "I dare say that is neither the only, nor even the more truthful reason. Is it?"

Cecily looked at the ground. "It is not my place to tell you."

"Tell me what? That she is with child? I already know, my dear. Her mother wrote me with the news."

She looked up at his eyes to see he told the truth. "Then you know why. Jonathan loved her so dearly and was so pleased about the prospect of having a child. The most grievous wrong was that a child was robbed of the chance to have a loving father."

He smiled at her sympathetically. "Unlike the father you had; am I correct?" She looked back down at the floor, overcome with emotion. "Would you be interested in helping other children? I may have a friend you should meet."
 
 

Chapter 8 - Ceremony

Only the light of a dozen candles aided them in reading the spell, laid on the floor before them in the library. The girls wore rough wool robes, at the insistence of the doctor and his friend Henry. A needed item of Jonathan's, a handkerchief Lucinda had borrowed to have with her during the wedding, was placed atop the bowl of roses. Lucinda nodded to show they were ready to begin.

The two men began chanting, the words flowing out of their mouths easily though the language was unknown to either Cecily or Lucinda. At least Dr. Woodman had been kind enough to translate what the girls needed to do into English.

Lucinda took a knife, picked up the handkerchief and started cutting while Cecily spoke. "Like Osiris is he rendered into fourteen pieces." Lucinda placed the fourteen pieces of cloth on back on top of the roses, strikes a match and throws it into the bowl as well, lighting the contents on fire. Cecily spoke again. "Like Osiris is he made one again by the burning fires of love."

The flames in the metal bowl suddenly leapt up until they were three feet high and bright blue. Yet, no heat came from the flames. Instead, a raspy voice asked, in perfect English, "Whose ka do you seek?"

Cecily spoke in a tremulous voice. "Oh, great Osiris, Lord of the Underworld, we seek not only the ka, but the ba as well. We seek Jonathan Spencer, who died before his time."

The disembodied voice answered, flames dancing in time to its words. "You would have me release an entire soul from the Underworld? Whose soul would you offer in exchange?"

The question came unexpected. Dr. Woodman whispered to Henry. "This must be what we missed the other time, why it went wrong. We forgot to ask for the ba and thus, never made a trade."

Lucinda, tears running down her face, answered the question. "I would offer the soul of his unborn child."

"No!" Cecily yelled. Lucinda at her, clearly confused. Cecily looked to Dr. Woodman to confirm her action. He nodded to her, telling her to continue. "I would offer mine instead."

Lucinda grabbed her friend in a tight hug. "No, Cessy. You cannot do this."

Cecily pulled away. "I must, for the sake of the child. Please, let me do this. I have never been of much help to anyone until now. I have caused more pain than happiness. If it were not for me, William would not have killed all those men. It was due to the pain I caused; I know it. The three of you could be happy. Let me help you." At Lucinda's reluctant nod, Cecily addressed the flames. "I offer my soul in exchange for his."

The voice said, "Reach into the flame to prove your worth."

Cecily slowly reached a hand forward, easing it into the blue flames. Surprisingly, she felt no pain, no heat. It felt as if her hand were dipped into ice water. Then, the strange tugging sensation began near her heart. She tried to breath but found she could not force the air through her throat. A white light issued forth from her chest, moving slowly until it had made the journey all the way down her arm and into the flames. At that point, the flames seemed to explode, sending all four people in the room flying back away from the bowl. When the smoke cleared, the bowl was gone. In its place lay Jonathan, barely breathing but alive.

Henry and Dr. Woodman carried Jonathan upstairs toward the girls' bedroom. The girls followed behind silently. After they lay Jonathan in the bed, Cecily asked, "Should I not be dead?"

Dr. Woodman spoke. "I am puzzled about that, my dear. Perhaps you were allowed to live but you have forfeited your soul. Might I suggest now that you give serious consideration to meeting that friend of mine?"

Cecily was taken aback by his line of questioning. "What would that do? Can he help me get my soul back?"

He smiled and handed her a calling card. "No. He may have options for a girl without one, though. All you need to do is read that card aloud."

Cecily studied the card for a moment before walking out of the room. Alone in the hall, she read aloud. "Blessed be the name of D'hoffren. Let this space be now a gateway to the world of Arash Ma'har, where demons are spawned."