Spirits and Spells Read Online Free PDF Page B

time.
    Tansy walked slowly along the path, swinging her flashlight to the right and left. A battered armchair. An old oil painting of a herd of cows, its ornate frame chipped in several places. A dressmaker’s dummy, its semihuman form eerie in the gloom.
    â€œThis is ridiculous,” she said. “How could anybody expect to find a ring in all this mess?”
    Was that a noise?
    She stopped and listened intently for a moment, then shook her head. She hadn’t really heard anything. But she had the uncanny sensation that someone else was in the attic with her—someone waiting, watching to see what she would do.
    Tansy wondered if Travis had planted someone here to scare her. She was aware that one good scream, one form leaping unexpectedly from the shadows, would have her shrieking and running for the door.
    She walked on, more nervous now, shining her beam from side to side, looking for any clue to the ring’s hiding place.
    The rain continued to drum against the roof. Save for her own footsteps, it was the only sound she heard.
    Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was not alone.
    â€œTravis?”
    No answer.
    She turned.
    â€œMatt? Denise?”
    No answer.
    She turned back. As she did, she heard a faint creaking sound several feet ahead of her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart felt as if a cold hand had closed about it. There was someone here!
    Well, if Travis or one of his dopey friends was waiting ahead to jump out at her, she would be prepared. And if she was careful and quiet …
    She smiled at the thought of turning the tables and surprising whoever it was that waited to scare her.
    She walked forward more carefully now, trying to put her feet down silently. The creaking continued, slow and rhythmic. She stopped again. She had thought at first that the sound was being made by someone stepping on a loose board. But it was too regular for that.
    What could it be?
    She was more than halfway to the far end of the attic now. She could see the gray stones of the chimney.
    The creaking continued. Suddenly Tansy lost all interest in trying to surprise whoever might be waiting for her. “Travis? Travis, if that’s you, get out here now!”
    No answer.
    The rhythmic creaking continued.
    Tansy bit her lip and considered turning around and heading back. But that might be the very thing the person making the sound, whoever it was, was waiting for. As soon as she turned her back, he would leap out with a shout, scare a good scream out of her, and then laugh like crazy.
    She had no intention of letting someone spook her that way. Then she had another thought: Perhaps the creaking was the additional clue Travis had said she would find, and it was meant to lead her on. She’d look like a real ditz if she went back to the library without having investigated.
    Taking a deep breath, she continued forward.
    The beam of her flashlight picked out a fascinating jumble of trash and treasures that, under normal circumstances, she would have loved to stop to examine: a white porcelain elephant nearly three feet tall, a cardboard box overflowing with old clothing and hats, and, ahead of her, a richly patterned Oriental rug, spread out at full length on the floor.
    Tansy stopped. The area around the rug was set up almost like a room. The piles of discards around it were like walls. And several pieces of furniture stood on it—a bed, a love seat, and …
    Tansy gasped. She had found what was making the creaking sound.
    The third piece of furniture was a rocking chair.
    It was rocking all by itself!
    Tansy stood for a moment, unable to move. The chair continued to rock back and forth, making the now familiar creaking sound.
    It’s a trick!
    As soon as the thought flashed through her mind, she could feel her pounding heart begin to slow. Travis had said that the treasures would be guarded. He had set this up. One of his friends was making the chair rock, pulling a string or