Chapter 1

Something was wrong. Mystery Stonestar felt it before she heard it.

Five sets of wind chimes hung on the door and tinkled whenever a customer entered Mysti’s Crystals and Gifts Shop. The specifically chosen chimes passively harmonized the atmosphere of Mysti’s store and balanced her own personal chakras every time someone entered or exited. She loved to hear their sound.

But something blocked her harmony.

The chimes worked better than a constant burning of ginseng and cost much less. She simply could not allow negativity of any sort to settle in her establishment or penetrate her personal auric field. The chimes did the job all day long without her having to perform cleansing rituals every morning and evening. The simplicity and passivity of it all made her happy every day.

However, today was different. Mysti closed her eyes to allow the E, D, and A chords to restore her personal strength, life energy, and insight.

It wasn’t working.

She focused on the cause wafting to her from the person at her door. The chimes really grated the nerves of whoever it was. She opened her eyes and smiled. Apparently, this customer really needed her skills. “How may I help—”

Her little sister, Samantha Gladstone, had drawn up taut as if she couldn’t move. Her aura was a filthy blue. What had happened to make her sister’s effervescent energy field so full of fear?

Mysti needed to distill Sammy’s solar plexus chakra immediately. “Hey, Sam. Come on in, let me make you some tea.”

“Hey, Nancy.” Samantha sighed heavily.

Mysti glanced at the door and back to Sam. “I’m going to vent my feelings now. Why do you refuse to call me by my legal name?”

“I’ve called my big sister ‘Nancy’ for sixteen years. I can’t just suddenly start using a different name for you.”

Mysti crossed her arms over her midsection. Flowing purple taffeta sleeves hung to the knees of her wispy bohemian-style skirt. “It’s been nine years, Sam!” She drew in a deep breath. “You came here to discuss your inability to adapt to change, or what?”

“No.” Samantha winced. “I’m sorry.”

She obviously had an agenda for this impromptu visit.

“I wanted to ask you a huge favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Mysti turned to her tea cabinet and with a quick flick of her wrist, the single gas burner lit with a blue flame under her favorite orange enameled kettle. She then mixed together some aromatic leaves and placed them into a small Asian mortar. Adding some shaved ginseng root, she crushed it together with the pestle and poured it all into a tea infuser. Gingerly, she lowered it into a ceramic teapot.

She lifted an Apache tears from a basket of assorted stones and crystals and held it against her palm. She needed its friendly vibrations to protect her from Sammy’s negative emotions. The dark stone grounded and protected Mysti at the same time.

An antique wood-burning enameled cast-iron stove now served as her tea cabinet. Their dad, Henry Gladstone, had helped her put in a gas line and a pie cupboard above it for storage. The oven was storage, too. Only one burner supplied heat for the tea she brewed for herself and special customers. There wasn’t anybody on the planet more special to her than her baby sister. Except her cousin, Harry, of course. He was truly her best friend.

Sammy wrung her hands. “You know how, when we were little, and we swore on all that was honorable and holy—”

“What do you want, Samantha?”

“No, bear with me.” Sam waved her hands to stop Mysti from cutting her off. “So, you remember, right?”

“Yes, Sammy. I remember.”

“Well. For example, if I had auditioned for a play, and it was, like, my lifelong dream to get this part in this play, and I got the part. You’d come see the play. Wouldn’t you?” Pleading eyes lifted to meet Mysti’s.

“Uh ... sure.” Mysti handed her sister a delicate cup and saucer filled with the tea she had just concocted.

“Really? Oh, Mysti. Thank you!” Sam hurriedly sipped her tea but then grimaced.

“Drink up, you need this. So ... you’re in a play?”

“No, I’m singing the special in church,” Sam uttered as quickly as possible.

“What! You tricked me!” Mysti slammed her cup and saucer on a table. Crystals hanging from chains on a T-frame swung from the sudden quake.

“It’s the same as performing in a play! It just happens to be inside the church, during service! Pleeease, Mysti. I’m so ... terrified!”

“I can tell,” Mysti muttered. “This tea is having no effect on you.”

“Dad did this to me! Reverend Begley overheard Dad talking to KatLynn Eidelman, my own co-teacher!” —Sam pounded a fist against her heart— “about my singing, and how they loved to hear me, but I never did so in front of anybody.

“The bullied Dad. Well, that’s what Dad said. He had no wiggle room. He told Dad the church was the perfect environment for me to face my fears. Where I’d be surrounded with love and acceptance!” Sam gulped her tea and swallowed hard. “Mysti, either I sing the special or-or Begley hinted Dad would be pulled from deacon status. He told Dad a deacon had to exhibit a healthy family life, and he was doing wrong by me for coddling my fears of singing in public. Oh, Mysti—” Samantha sobbed.

“Oh, Sammy.” Mysti knew what their father’s status in the church meant to him. She also knew how hard it was to oppose the mighty Reverend Doctor Obadiah Begley.

Samantha pulled a tissue and blew her nose. “It’s a solo! I’m singing a solo in front of the whole church!” She broke down crying, again. “And-and I need you there! Please, say you’ll come.” Sammy’s moist eyes stared at her. “If you’ll go, I can pick you up!”

Mysti opened her mouth to speak, shaking her head. “I-I...” Then she rounded the motion of her head to a nod. “Oh, Sammy. How do you get yourself into these messes?”

Sam dragged a crooked finger under her eyes. “I don’t know,” she whined.

“Okay.” Mysti barely breathed the word.

Sam gulped down the last of her tea, wiped her eyes, and set her cup on a small table covered with a sheer shiny cloth. She leapt toward her sister and engulfed her in a vise-grip hug. “Thank you, Mysti. Thank you! See you Sunday. I-I’ll be here to get you at eight o’clock.”

Mysti stared at her wind chime-covered door through veiled eyelashes. How did she get roped into going to church? She swore she’d never set foot in that bigoted, judgmental, hypocri— She sighed. “Oooosaaaah!”

If her only sister was singing a solo in front of the entire Greatest Endeavor Outreach Ministries Church, she supposed she could go—for her. Mysti knew her sister had a beautiful voice, but was shier than a winter rabbit when it came to singing in front of anybody, even her. Sam only sang when she thought no one was around. Who could have possibly talked her into doing it but Dad? And a solo at that!

Mysti opened her fist. She’d keep this Apache tears stone and give it to Sam on Sunday. At least her sister would have Mother Earth’s protection in the palm of her hand to guard against and absorb any negativity that came at her.

Mysti and Samantha walked arm in arm into the Greatest Endeavor Outreach Ministries Church. Reverend Doctor Obadiah Begley greeted them at the double door entrance. Mysti squeezed the Apache tears in her left palm as she shook the reverend’s hand with her right. Sam vibrated with fear. She shook Begley’s hand so quickly, a one shake and move on type of thing, and made no eye contact. It would have been amusing if it weren’t so sad.

Esmerelda Begley, the reverend’s wife, hugged them both and whisked Samantha away from Mysti to allow for a quick run-through with the choir. Mysti moved toward the doors to the sanctuary.