Everything combined at that place, in the exact centre of the graveyard, as the old year ended and a new one began. The result you get is right there, sitting on your couch, living and breathing for the first time in what … sixty years?” she said, looking now at Tristan.
Tristan died sixty years ago? That meant he was last alive in the 1950s. No wonder his manners and vocabulary were so strange. But what had Miss Violet also said? “Seven people? There’s a mistake right there,” I said, counting on my fingers. “You and your friends, that’s three. Me and Mom. That’s five.”
“Forgetting about Ghost Boy over there, are we?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yes. I didn’t know a ghost could be counted as ‘people’. Sorry, Tris. But that’s still only six.”
“Yes, there was also another one. A very important one. You missed it because you were in transition during the spell, but it was there all right,” she said, avoiding my eyes.
“It?” Miss Violet ignored my question and, under her withering gaze, I let it go for now. “Okay, seven people.” I counted again. “And five elements … fire, air, earth, water and something else.”
I mentally identified what each could have been. Fire. From the candles. I remembered their flames vividly after I had bumped my head. Air was the wind. I remembered how fierce it had been, how it swept through my whole body. Earth beneath my fingers from when I was lying down on the grass.
“What was water? And the something else?” I asked.
“You were crying. That’s the water part,” Miss Violet told me.
“I-I was?” I didn’t remember crying. It all felt like a distant foggy memory. “So what about the something else?”
“Did you cut yourself yesterday?” she asked.
I turned the palms of my hands upwards. There were scratches and tiny cuts all over both hands from when I had fallen.
She smiled, seeing me stare at my scratched hands. “Blood is a powerful thing for spells. It created the bond between you and him for the spell to work, and it sealed the deal.”
I remembered that everything had gone dark and I hadn’t been able to see Tristan any more, but that I could feel him close to me. I had felt something on my lips. And pinpricks of energy … I think. The memory was blurred now, like I was seeing it through distorted glass. But I think that was when the spell was bound. The final touch. The second his lips had touched mine, I’d been jolted back and Tristan had appeared out of thin air.
“And this spell has its price. All magic does,” Miss Violet continued. “It’ll be collected, heavily taxed, mind you. The boy should’ve thought about that before going through with it,” she snapped at him.
I turned to Tristan. He crossed his arms defensively over his chest. “You knew this was going to happen?” I asked him in surprise.
“I-I– No! That’s what I wanted to talk to you about before, when we … woke up. I heard this wild tale, from that friend I told you about, you know, the one with crazy stories about old magic? He told me that it could be possible, you know, to have a second chance to live. There was a song, or a poem, or something. I don’t quite remember it how it went. It said it could happen, a true second chance in life, if there’s a living soul able to truly see you. And when you did, Joey, when you saw me, and talked to me, I thought it could be possible … to live again. I was only seventeen when I … I died. And I’ve been trapped in the cemetery every since. The song talked about that special place in the cemetery. That’s all. I didn’t know about the binding spell, or any tax! I swear! If I’d thought it could harm you in any way, I would never …” He trailed off, unable to continue.
“And now that you have your wish, boy, what are you going to do with it?” Miss Violet inquired firmly.
Be careful what you wish for … My mom used to say that when I was little. Tristan had wished to