Lucifer's Daughter. V. J. Banis

thou art and give answers to my questions. Come in visible or invisible form. Come and speak pleasantly in words I may understand.”

      Julia, unlike the others, was looking around for signs of trickery. She expected to see a vague shape take form in the sudden blackness, which she was convinced was obtained through the benefit of electric switches located beneath the table. However, no shimmering, unearthly shape appeared. Nothing floated through the space over their heads. No drafts of cold air tickled the backs of their necks. Julia frowned her disappointment.

      The tent was deadly quiet for several long, ominous moments. Then the gypsy’s lips moved again but her voice was not her own. She spoke in a man’s voice, a voice so unreal and so unnatural the girls, including Julia, gasped and stared in disbelief.

      “What will you have me tell you?” the voice asked.

      “This girl. Her name is Alice...no, Allyson. She wishes to know what her future holds in store.” This time the old woman spoke in her own voice.

      Another long, eerie silence followed. Then the mysterious man’s voice said, “She will marry soon. She will meet her betrothed on a beach. They will fall in love and will live in happiness forever.”

      A little cry of pleasure went out of Allyson. She turned to Margaret, who was seated beside her. They looked at each other, saying nothing, too surprised to speak. After a second or two Allyson turned back and stared at the crystal ball and waited for the voice to continue. When it did not, she took her hands from the table. “The old gypsy knew my name,” Allyson whispered. “How could she know my name?”

      Margaret shrugged. “She obviously heard us talking among ourselves. We mentioned each other’s names, I suppose.”

      “Oh, it’s kinda exciting,” Allyson gushed. “You can bet your last dollar I’ll be on the beach tomorrow bright and early.”

      The girls giggled.

      “She didn’t say you’d meet him tomorrow, Ally,” Margaret told her.

      Allyson smothered a laugh. “I know, but I intend to start looking as soon as I can.” Between giggles Allyson nudged Margaret. “Go ahead, Maggie. Put your hands on the table. Let’s see what she has to say about you.”

      Margaret hesitated, then remembered her two-dollar investment and put her hands palms down in front of her.

      Allyson nodded toward the crystal ball and Margaret stretched her hands closer to it.

      The old woman was seated, staring upward, seemingly unaware that there were others near her. The moment Margaret’s hands touched the table top the old gypsy’s lips began to quiver.

      “Your name...your name...,” the old woman said.

      Margaret said nothing.

      “Your name is Margaret.” The gypsy paused. “Tell us, O great spirit, what is in store for this girl?”

      “Margaret,” the man’s voice droned. “Margaret. Be careful of vehicles. Be careful of your money. Your future is uncertain unless your ways are changed now.”

      “Will I marry?” Margaret asked, ignoring the warnings. “That’s all I’m interested in knowing.”

      “Love will come easily to you, Margaret,” the man’s voice said. “You will find it too often, and each time it will bring with it great unhappiness. You will marry three times.”

      “I hope they’ll all be rich,” Margaret scoffed, pulling her hands back from the table.

      “Oh, Maggie, you shouldn’t make light of it. You’ll break the trance and we won’t hear what she has to say about Elizabeth and Julie.”

      “Oh, phooey,” Margaret huffed. “You surely don’t believe all this bunk?”

      “Hush,” Allyson cautioned, still pleased with her own prediction for the future. “Go ahead, Julie. You go next.”

      Julia held back. “N—no,” she stammered, “I don’t think I want to.”

      “I’ll go,” Elizabeth said eagerly, putting her hands down on the table.

      The girls settled themselves into quietness and waited, all except Margaret who was beginning to get restless. Allyson nudged her and whispered for her to be still.

      The voice took longer this time, but finally it came from the old woman’s lips.

      “Elizabeth, you have much happiness awaiting you. You will leave your present place of employment shortly and will work for a young executive who will fall in love with you and you with him. You will marry before a year has passed.”

      Elizabeth hooted and clasped her hands to her breast. She giggled across Margaret to Allyson who also clapped her hands with glee. “Oh, Liz, how exciting.” They gushed among themselves for a few moments, then turned their eyes on Julia.

      “Okay, Julia,” Margaret said irritably. “Hurry up and let’s get this over with.”

      “Oh, don’t be such a grouch, Maggie. What are you grousing about? You’re going to have three husbands to Ally’s and my one,” Elizabeth said. Then she turned to Julia. “Go ahead, Julie. Let’s see when and where you’re going to meet your Prince Charming.”

      Julia pulled back. What she had to fear she didn’t know, but there was a strange throbbing deep inside her that was telling her to get out of that tent, to get away from the mysterious voice and the glowing crystal ball that seemed to pulse and radiate from the center of the table.

      “Oh, go on, Julie,” Allyson urged. “You might just as well get your money’s worth.”

      “Sure, Julie. Go ahead. Please,” Elizabeth insisted.

      Reluctantly Julia let Elizabeth lift her hands onto the table. She put them palms down and moved them toward the crystal ball.

      The old woman sat there in silence, her lips still and unmoving. Elizabeth nudged Julia and pushed her hands closer to the glowing crystal ball.

      The old crone sat for a moment longer, then she stirred and her lips moved. “The girl is Julia,” she said. She paused. Her head started to move back and forth, slowly at first and then with more and more deliberateness. “No. The girl is called...,” she stammered. “The girl’s name is not Julia.”

      Allyson, Margaret, and Elizabeth turned and stared at Julia. But Julia was suddenly gazing deep into the crystal ball, entranced, waiting for something of which she was deathly afraid. But she was too frozen to move.

      Julia felt a hot, wet mist envelop her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him standing just over her shoulder. The air inside the tent grew thicker and heavier. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t cry out. Something, someone was holding shut her mouth and had made her limbs immobile. An unearthly silence descended on her. She felt herself being pressed deeper and deeper into the earth between her feet. She felt herself sinking into oblivion. Silence—dead, thick, heavy silence—permeated the place. Not a breath of air stirred as she sat there waiting...waiting...waiting.

      Suddenly the old woman groaned. Her tired, ageless eyes went wide with terror. “No!” she shrieked. “No! Go away!” Her head fell back, her eyes dropped closed. Then her body went rigid. “No—” she shrieked again. “Go away! Go away!” She waved her hands in front of her as if warding off a swarm of locusts. “Go! Leave me! Go! Go!”

      Then with an agonizing moan, her body swayed and toppled backward. She fell unconscious to the floor.

      Three of the girls screamed. Julia sat engulfed in her stupor. She just stared into the crystal ball. Then, with a dull thud, the ball in the center of the table shattered into fragments.

      Julia moaned. Then, like the old gypsy, she fell into a dead faint.

      CHAPTER THREE

      When her eyelids fluttered and opened, Julia saw she was still inside the tent. It was lit more