Free Black Moon (The Moonlight Trilogy) by Teri Harman

eyes shimmering in the gray light. “I’m glad you came back because I just had a weird experience.”
    “What happened?”
    The ghost’s eyes moved off, now distant and vague. “This picture appeared in my mind. I was leaning over a young woman in her bed—a very pretty girl, older than me, with red hair and green eyes. Her brow was sweaty, and in her arms she held a little bundle wrapped in blankets. I reached out”—the ghost reached her hand forward, imitating the movement—“pulled back the edge of a blanket and found a little baby. Beautiful baby. A girl, I think.” Solace sighed.
    “Solace! That sounds like a memory. Do you think it was?” Willa’s heart pumped a little faster with the idea.
    “I don’t dare hope, but . . . maybe.” Solace clasped her hands together in her lap.
    Willa stared at her friend for a minute, the light cutting through her shadowy figure. “Red hair and green eyes. Sounds like Ruby or Amelia. Probably Amelia. She was about five years older than you, but there’s no record of Amelia having a baby.”
    “I don’t know. It was just a brief flash.”
    “Has that ever happened before?”
    Solace studied her hands. “No, not really. A few times I’ve seen a flash of what I think is forest trees, a full moon.” A stiff pause, her figure almost flickering out of sight. “Pain. Sometimes there is a burst of pain, an echo, just here.” Her sheer fingers fluttered at her neck.
    A chill snaked down Willa’s spine, and she remained quiet for a moment. What had happened to her best friend? “Solace, I . . .”
    Solace’s eyes flashed up to her. “Do you think it means I’m close to crossing over? Having these maybe-memories?”
    Willa blinked, surprised. “Maybe. There is no way to know. But either way, memories are good. Right?”
    “I suppose.” She pursed her lips. “But I’d rather remember my life when I’m there and not still stuck here.”
    Willa watched the ghost closely, studying the permanent sadness on her face. Quietly, she asked, “So you want to cross over?”
    Solace smiled grimly. “Of course, I do, Willa. As much as I love you, I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t live like this.” She rolled her eyes at the word. “It’s wrong, unnatural.” She looked vacantly at the dark space of the foyer. “I can feel it all the time—a whispering tug from the Otherworld. It’s stronger lately, but still blocked somehow. I can’t answer it, can’t move toward it. I need to cross over, but I’m stuck. And that connection is a constant mockery.”
    Solace’s eyes shimmered, almost as if blurred by tears. Willa leaned closer. She’d never heard Solace talk like this before. “I wish there was something I could do to help. I am a witch with the Power of Spirits, after all. You’d think there was something more to that than just seeing ghosts. Maybe one day I’ll find something that can help you.”
    “Thank you, Willa. You are sweet.” She inhaled, shook her head. “Let’s talk about something else. Did you talk to Simon about faking it in training yesterday?”
    Willa looked over at the crisscrossing shadows. Simon had obviously and purposely failed the second part of the test at the pool. At least it was obvious to her. To everyone else it seemed a huge relief. Because of that, she couldn’t really blame Simon, but something about it bothered her. Was he ashamed of himself? “Not yet, but it’s weird, right?”
    “It’s a little weird. Simon has never struck me as one to pretend just to please others.”
    “Exactly! I mean, we all pretend a little, hiding our true selves from the world, but that’s different.” She exhaled, rubbed at her forehead. “I don’t know. I guess it’s not that big of a deal. I just don’t understand why everything has gotten so complicated with his powers. Why he won’t talk to me or Rowan, make some effort to understand it.”
    “I wonder if he’ll make it a habit—the faking.”
    Willa shook her head.