Page 25 of Poltergeists & Change of Life

"You know about it?" I asked, hope rising in my chest.

Marlowe fixed me with a look that could have curdled milk. "Know about it? Girl, I wrote the book on it. Literally." He gestured to the very tome I'd been eyeing earlier.

“This is why I suggested we come here,”Tarja said. “Perhaps we can get some concrete information about what we're dealing with.”

"Then you can help us?" I pressed, feeling a glimmer of hope.

Marlowe sighed, making a noise that sounded like old parchment crumbling. "It's not that simple. The locket isn't just any cursed object. It's one of seven. Each one is linked to a different aspect of Lyra's power. Together, they form a set more dangerous than anything you can imagine."

"Holy shit," I muttered. "One cursed object wasn't enough of a headache. Lyra just had to make a whole matching set."

“This complicates things,”Tarja mused. “If the locket is part of a set, breaking its curse could have far-reaching consequences we can't predict.”

"Do you guys know anything?" Marlowe snapped. "These aren't some trinkets you can toss in a magic circle and be done with. Each object is layered with curses and protections. Trying to neutralize one without understanding its connection to theothers is like trying to defuse a bomb by snipping random wires."

"Fair enough. What do we do?" I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "We can't leave Stella stuck in that time loop forever."

Marlowe's eyes softened slightly, a hint of begrudging concern seeping into his gruff demeanor. "No, you can't leave your friend trapped like that. But rushing in blind will only make things worse. You need to perform a magical diagnosis on the locket. It is imperative that you uncover its layers and understand its connections. Only then can you safely attempt to break the curse or curses. You will also discover if you need the others to cut the connection."

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. We had a plan. Sort of. It sounded about as simple as performing brain surgery while riding a unicycle. "Thank you, Marlowe," Layla murmured. "We appreciate your help."

Marlowe harrumphed, already turning back to his cluttered desk. "Just don't make me regret it. And for the love of all that's arcane, be careful. That locket is more dangerous than you know."

As we left Marlowe's house of horrors--I mean, seriously, would it kill the man to dust once a century?-- my mind was racing. A magical diagnosis sounded straightforward enough. However, I had a feeling it was going to be about as simple as untangling a ball of yarn that a family of porcupines had made their home in.

"So," I said as we piled into the car, "anyone know where we can get a magical MRI machine? Or do we cast a circle around it and hope for the best?" Intent was key in magic, so it wasn’t an entirely ridiculous suggestion.

Nana chuckled from the driver's seat. "Oh, honey. We're going to need a lot more than a circle. I hope you didn't have any plans for the rest of the day. Or week."

And that was how we found ourselves back home, setting up for what had to be the most complicated magical procedure I'd ever been part of. And considering I once had to deal with an enchanted sewing machine, that's saying something. Our living room had been transformed into something that looked like a cross between a mad scientist's lab and a new age crystal shop.

Candles flickered at strategic points. Their flames cast dancing shadows on walls now covered in hastily scrawled magical formulas. The air was thick with the smell of incense, and something that I hoped was just really pungent herbs. Not, you know, eye of newt or toe of frog. In the center of it all sat the locket.

It was innocent-looking and decidedly un-locket-like in its world-ending potential. As I stared at it, I couldn't help but wonder what we were really getting ourselves into. One glance at Stella, still frozen in her time loop, was all I needed to steel my resolve.

I clapped my hands together. "Time to play magical doctor and hope we don't accidentally turn ourselves inside out in the process."

As we worked, Binx weaved between our legs, occasionally pausing to bat at a stray piece of magical chalk or sniff at the ingredients for Mom's concoction. His presence, while not exactly helpful, was oddly comforting.

“You should know,”Tarja's voice intruded, surprising us all in the silence, “that this diagnostic spell isn't without risks. Each layer of the curse we uncover could potentially trigger unforeseen magical reactions. We need to proceed with extreme caution.”

“I gathered as much from Marlowe’s warning. We can’t back out and leave Stella like this.” I gestured to my best friend and then caught Mom's eye.

She gave me a reassuring smile while one of her hands absently stroked Binx's fur. In that moment, I was grateful for our strange, magical, dysfunctional family. We began the ritual with Tarja guiding us step by step through the process. The air around the locket began to shimmer and distort as we began to chant in a language that made my ears hurt. It was like looking through a heat haze made of pure magical energy and bad intentions.

Keeping my worry about whether we were going to be capable of getting past the evil energy out of my mind wasn’t easy. A few seconds later, I was certain I’d failed when suddenly, an image appeared above the locket. It looked like a tangle of multicolored threads. Each one pulsed with a unique rhythm.

"The curses," Aidon breathed with wide eyes. "Each thread represents a different layer of magic."

"Correct," Tarja replied. "Now, pay attention. We need to understand how they're interwoven."

For what felt like an eternity but was probably closer to an hour, we meticulously unraveled the magical knot hovering above the locket. Tarja's voice echoed in our minds, guiding us through the intricate process with a patience I never knew she possessed.“Careful now,”she warned as I reached out to tug at a particularly nasty-looking thread of magic. “That strand is connected to a temporal distortion field. One wrong move, and you might find yourself reliving this delightful moment for the next century.”

It wasn't easy, to put it mildly. The magical threads were a tangled mess of malevolent energy. Each one seemed to actively resist our efforts to understand it. More than once, my personal protection bubble—the one courtesy of my babies--activatedwith a sudden, violent shimmer. It bounced Dark magic away from me like a cosmic pinball machine.

"Phoebe!" Aidon's voice cut through the air, tight with concern. "That last one nearly got through. We need to be more careful."

As if to punctuate his point, a tendril of Dark magic lashed out. It writhed like an angry serpent. Aidon moved faster than I thought possible. His enchanted dagger flashed in the candlelight as he severed the magical attack before it could reach any of us.

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