"Now, everyone hold hands and clear your minds," Madame Mystra instructed. Obediently, the half-dozen people gathered around the table joined hands, their faces assuming various expressions: peace, calm and - much to Madame Mystra's amusement - something resembling what she thought of as constipation. Madame Mystra suppressed the urge to giggle. After all, it would not do her reputation as a medium any good.
An air of reverent silence descended over the group. Madame Mystra waited for a moment (a little bit of theatrics to heighten the suspense), then began the seance. "We shall now attempt to contact the spirit world," she intoned solemnly. "Keep your thoughts calm, your minds open. We must be receptive to the influences from beyond." She took a deep breath. "Spirits! Are you listening?"
The lightbulbs in the chandelier above the table flickered and dimmed, their hue changing from a cool white to a warm brown. And, as if blown by a passing breeze, the crystal pendants dangling from the chandelier moved and tinkled against each other. A few of the seance-goers looked up, their attention distracted by the noise and the motion. "Please! Concentrate!" Madame Mystra admonished them. She waited until the miscreants had lowered their gaze, the cleared her throat. "I sense a presence ... . Oh spirit! What wisdom do you have to impart to us?"
Suddenly Madame Mystra stiffened and her eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible. An eerie voice came from her throat.
"There is a spectre hanging over you," the voice declaimed. "A spectre of doom!"
One of the seance-goers, a fat man in a suit, snorted in derision. "What nonsense! This is all just - !" His complaint was cut short as something invisible seemed to grasp his neck and he struggled to breathe.
"You doubt me?" the voice coming from Madame Mystra's mouth demanded. "Do you dare question me?"
The fat man's hands clawed at his neck, trying to clear away whatever was choking him. This frantic action broke the circle. Instantly the light above the table returned to normal and the phantom hands around the man's throat vanished. He fell forward, wheezing and gulping in air.
Madame Mystra got to her feet to address the group. "I am sorry," she began. "The spirits are obviously hostile today. It would be unwise to continue with the seance. Don't worry - I will refund you your money."
As soon as the last of the seance-goers had gone, Madame Mystra locked the door, folded her arms and glared around the room in anger. "Father! I've told you before - your pranks are not welcome here. You've cost me business today. This is absolutely the last straw!"
The crystals dangling from the chandelier shifted and jingled mockingly.
