The Psychic Within

Chapter 23: Storm

Light had all but drained from the sky by the time we were finally ready to begin. 

The dying sun filtered through the dining room windows, reflecting off the deformed mirror that hung proudly from its new place on the wall. The warped glass distorted the light, glowing and orange, like a lava lamp.

We milled around the room, waiting for Luc's sign. He was still checking things, flitting here and there, but at least his mood had improved. He still wasn't saying much, but that strange icy thing he had been radiating earlier had now melted away.

Tory was pacing, a cheap beer in hand, looking bored. Ethan was leaned against the wall, watching his boyfriend, his eyes swinging back and forth like one of those cartoon cat clocks. I hovered nearby, nursing a beer of my own. It was warm and disgusting, but it helped settle my nerves a little so I continued to sip.

Luc clapped his hands. 

We all jumped.

"Shall we?" he said, turning to us. His green eyes, glowing in the low light, darted between each of us.

"Might as well." Tory slammed back the rest of his beer, then placed the bottle against the wall, out of the way. He sauntered over to the table and plopped himself down in a chair.

Ethan took the extra chair in the corner, curling up on himself like a judgmental cat. He shrugged off his messenger bag and pulled out his sketchbook, balancing it on his knee.

I didn't move; I had hoped to take that chair myself. The only remaining chair was opposite of Tory at the table, with the mirror directly behind it. Though I had fought to be here, I had initially thought I would only be a witness. The thought of participating hadn't crossed my mind until this very moment... Though that seemed like an obvious conclusion now. 

Still, I slunk back to the wall, pressing myself into it like I would be able to blend in with the busy wallpaper.

Of course, Luc wasn't fooled. "Rachel?" he asked, expectantly. He pulled the chair out, confirming my place. "Care to join us?"

I swallowed hard, then nodded, sheepishly dragging my feet over and taking a seat.

Luc pushed me in, pining me in place against the edge of the table. He leaned over my shoulder. "Don't worry," he breathed in my ear. "I'll be here the whole time. You're perfectly safe."

I nodded again and he gave my shoulder a squeeze before leaving me there. He did another quick walk around the perimeter of the room then circled in closer, pacing around the table.

The board—his mother's board—was there, laid out in the centre of the table. It was smooth and perfect like before; being tossed across the room hadn't damaged it at all. Though the board was at a different angle, turned to the side, the one open eye still seemed to be fixed on me.

But something was missing...

"W-What are we supposed to do?" I asked, breaking the heavy silence of the room.

"I'll walk you through it," Luc said, still pacing.

"Yeah, but there's no pointer-thingy..."

Luc just looked at me, his brow folded slightly with confusion. "Pointer thing?"

I made a triangle shape with my fingers, then mimed pushing it around the board. "Yeah, the pointer-thingy."

"You mean a planchette?" Luc suggested, smirking. "No, no, we won't be using a planchette. Planchettes are too vulnerable to the subconscious muscle movements of those participating. A pendulum is far more reliable."