The Kingdom

I glanced at Sidra, who seemed to shy away from her dominant companion. She didn’t look intimidated or cowed, but her demeanor was definitely anxious, as if she wanted to extricate herself from an awkward situation but didn’t know how.

“Where do you want to go?” I asked.

“You can drop us at Sid’s place.”

“I already told you…my house is out of her way,” Sidra said.

“I really don’t mind.” It wasn’t like I had a clock to punch or someone to go home to. Besides, the company of two teenagers might be just the thing to dilute the bad taste left by my visit to the police station. “Hop in.”

“Merci beaucoup.” The dark-haired girl sent me a treacly smile as she strode around the car and climbed into the front. Sidra reluctantly got into the back, and as I slid behind the wheel, I glanced in the rearview mirror, hoping a smile would reassure her that a lift wasn’t a problem. But she’d turned to the window and sat motionless, making me wonder yet again if she could see something outside that I couldn’t.

I started the ignition. “I’ll need directions.”

“Head north, take a right at the first intersection and then keep going until I tell you to stop,” the dark-haired girl instructed. “I’m Ivy, by the way.”

“Amelia.”

“I know who you are.” She turned to give me a frank assessment between narrowed lids. “Sid says you work in graveyards or something.”

“I’m a cemetery restorer.”

“Sounds…interesting.”

I smiled politely. “It is to me.”

“You don’t get spooked?”

“Sometimes. But mostly I find cemeteries peaceful. Some of the really old churchyards were built on hallowed ground.” I shot a look in the mirror to gauge Sidra’s reaction, but her eyes were still riveted on the window.

“Thorngate isn’t,” Ivy said. “Built on hallowed ground, I mean.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s built on Asher ground and everything that family touches is cursed.”

“Ivy.”

The warning note in Sidra’s voice startled me, but Ivy just shrugged.

I gave her an uneasy glance. “What do you mean by cursed?”

She waved a hand toward the window. “Look around you. See all the boarded-up buildings? All those caved-in roofs? And that stink in the air? That’s the smell of the damned,” she said with calculated nonchalance as she unzipped one of her boots to examine what appeared to be a fresh tattoo on her ankle.

When she saw that I’d noticed—which I had a feeling was her intent—her smile turned smug. “You don’t know what that is, do you?”

“I can’t really see it from here.”

“It’s one of the symbols carved into the cliff at the falls. No one knows where they came from or what they mean, but I think this one makes a pretty cool tat, don’t you?”

She didn’t give me a chance to respond.

“I had to sneak over to Greenville to get it. Mother would have a cow if she knew. Which is so hypocritical since she has one herself. But she thinks I’m too young and I think she’s too old.” She admired the ink for a moment longer before rezipping her boot.

I glanced in the mirror, startled to find Sidra staring back at me this time. What was she thinking? I wondered. And why had she tried to silence Ivy about the Ashers?

Ivy fell back against the seat. “Personally, I find the whole idea of hallowed ground laughable.”

It took me a moment to redirect my train of thought. “Why?”

“How can a place be sacred just because people died there or because some priest sprinkled a little holy water over it? If you’re really into spiritual places, you should go up to the falls.”

“I hear it’s really beautiful up there.”

“It’s more than beautiful. People say it’s a thin place.”

I turned in surprise. “A thin place?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what that is, either.”

She seemed to enjoy her superiority, so I allowed her to keep it. “Why don’t you tell me?”

She lowered her voice. “It’s where the living world and the dead world connect. It’s where…well, never mind. Anyway, people used to go up there because they hoped to catch a glimpse of heaven. Now they stay away because they’re afraid of—” She broke off and turned to glance at Sidra in the backseat. I watched the girl in the mirror and saw her shake her head.

“They’re afraid of what?” I pressed.

“Nothing. Speak of the devil,” Ivy muttered as she sat up in the seat.

I followed her gaze to Thane Asher’s car parked at the curb. He was hunkered in front of the rear wheel well changing a flat tire, and my mind shot back to the library. I could still hear those animalistic moans in some back recess of my mind.

“We should stop,” Ivy said.

“I thought you said the Ashers were cursed.”

She slanted me a withering look as she lowered the window and called out to him. When he glanced over his shoulder, there was nothing I could do but pull up beside him and stop.

He rose and came over to the car, bending slightly to glance in the window. He wore a dark green shirt that deepened his eyes to moss and a brown leather jacket that had cracked and faded over the years. His car also showed signs of wear and tear that I hadn’t noticed on the ferry. Looking past the dazzle of metallic paint, I could see a dent here and there and the odd speck of rust.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello,” I responded with a noncommittal smile.

Ivy gaped at him. I suspected she had a crush, which explained why she’d so easily tossed aside the notion of a curse. I could empathize. Hadn’t I done the same thing with Devlin? Thrown caution aside for passion? And Thane Asher did look ridiculously attractive in that leather jacket. Not darkly handsome like Devlin, of course, but there was something about him that I could appreciate. For one thing, he didn’t have ghosts hovering nearby. That was a definite plus. But then I reminded myself that I couldn’t know whether or not he was haunted until I saw him after twilight.

“Having car trouble?” Ivy drawled.

“A flat. Must have picked up a nail somewhere.”

“We thought you might need a ride.”

“Thanks, but I’ll have it changed in no time.”

Ivy tossed her hair over her shoulder and gazed up at him through those thick, curly lashes. “Are you sure you don’t need help with the lug nuts? They’re always so hard to get off.”

I didn’t know how she managed to pack so much sexual innuendo into two simple sentences, but she did.

Thane looked bemused…and wary. He glanced at his watch. “Shouldn’t you girls still be in school?” His tone was devoid of inflection, but I had a feeling the question was a conscious attempt to put Ivy in her place. A valiant effort, but one that seemed to sail right over the girl’s head as she twirled a dark strand of hair around one fingertip.

“We left early,” she said. “We had better things to do, right, Sid?” The two exchanged another glance, and Ivy grinned.

Thane’s gaze was on me, those green eyes gleaming with something dark. Something just for me. I didn’t know how to feel about that look. I was just as wary of him as he was of Ivy but for a very different reason. “And what part did you play in these shenanigans?”

“None at all. I’m just giving them a lift home.”

“Let’s hope the truant officer sees it your way,” he said ominously, but his eyes were still teasing. “How goes the cemetery restoration?”

“I’ve hardly begun. It’s only been one day.”

“Maybe I’ll drop by sometime. I haven’t been up there in years.”

Ivy’s grin faded, and she gave me a hard stare. She wasn’t the type of girl who would be comfortable sharing the spotlight, let alone relinquishing it to someone like me. “What is so fascinating about a bunch of old headstones?” she asked with an eye roll.

“It’s history,” Thane said. “How can you know who you are if you don’t know where you come from?”

How strange that his question should mirror the doubts and the uncertainties of my adoption that I’d pondered just last night. The insight made me uneasy.

I put a hand on the gearshift. “We should let you get back to that tire.”

His eyes lingered as he nodded. “You ladies take care.”

He stepped away from the curb, and as I drove off, I refused to look in the mirror. But I had a feeling he was staring after us. I was almost certain of it.

Ivy whirled. “How do you know Thane Asher?”

“I don’t really know him. We met yesterday on the ferry.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

I shrugged. “There was no reason to.”

She folded her arms. “I wouldn’t go getting any ideas if I were you. Thane would never choose someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“An outsider,” she said with disdain.

“I guess it’s lucky I’m not here to socialize, then. I just want to finish my job and go home.”

“You should do that. Go home, I mean.”

The whole conversation was starting to make me feel very uncomfortable. I couldn’t wait to drop them off and drive back to the Covey house. Although at that moment, I would have liked nothing more than to heed Ivy’s advice and head home to Charleston.

Something was seriously amiss in this town. I’d felt it the moment I crossed Bell Lake. The shadows seemed deeper, the nights longer, the secrets older. Even the wind felt different here. And I couldn’t forget the repugnant man in the cemetery who had mimicked my worst fears or the ghost who had somehow let me sense her confusion.

According to Ivy, Asher Falls was located near a thin place. Could that explain the bizarre nature of the town and the people who inhabited it? Maybe there was hyper supernatural activity in the area. I’d have to ask Dr. Shaw next time I went home. He ran the Charleston Institute for Parapsychology Studies and usually had answers for all my questions, whether or not they were the ones I wanted.

With an effort, I turned my attention back to the road. As we passed a gray stone building shrouded in vines, I noticed several girls dressed in the same uniform as Ivy and Sidra ambling out a side door.

“Is that your school?” I asked.

“Oh, damn!” Ivy slid down in her seat. “Hurry and get past before someone sees us. We’re supposed to be home sick.”

“Both of you?”

“There’s a bug going around. They were sending kids home all day. We left after lunch.”

“Pretending to be sick?”

“It’s easy enough to fake illness when the school nurse is half-blind.” She laughed at her own cleverness.

“So where did you go?”

“We’ve just been hanging out. But if Sid’s mother finds out we didn’t go straight home, we’re dead.”

“She probably already knows,” Sidra said gloomily. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into leaving school, much less going up there—”

“Shush.” Now it was Ivy who issued a warning look. “At least you won’t get expelled.”

“I almost wish I would,” Sidra muttered.

“Why would one of you get expelled and not the other?” I asked.

“Sid’s mother is the headmistress at Pathway,” Ivy explained. “A real witch, if you know what I mean. She’d like nothing better than to get rid of me. I’m such a bad influence and all.”

“And you left school, anyway? That was brave.” I glanced in the mirror to gauge Sidra’s reaction to such a harsh critique of her mother. She looked agitated, but I didn’t think the name-calling had much to do with it.

“It wasn’t brave, it was stupid,” she said.

Ivy shrugged. “No one twisted your arm. And, anyway, I don’t care if I do get expelled. I’ll just call my father. He’s a very important man. One of the most powerful lawyers in the state.” The last was said for my benefit, I was certain.

“Pathway is a private school?” I asked.

“Private and très exclusif,” Ivy said. “The local kids who can’t afford the tuition have to ride the ferry across the lake and catch the bus into Woodberry.”

So there was no public school, no veterinarian clinic and no supermarket in Asher Falls, but the withering town could support a private school for children of the privileged. The place was getting stranger and stranger by the minute.

We rode in silence after that until Sidra said from the backseat, “That’s my house on the corner. The white one.”

I pulled up to the curb in relief, and as the girls climbed out, I lowered my window to admire the three-story Victorian with spindle-work trim along the veranda. The garden was still lush and green, but the witch hazel had started to turn, and I could see squirrels foraging for fruit in the silver bell tree that grew at the corner of the porch. As my gaze lifted to the front gable, I saw a blonde woman in one of the upstairs windows a split second before the lace curtain fell back into place.

Uh-oh. The girls had been made, it seemed.

After a muttered thank-you, Ivy strode up the walkway without a backward glance, but to my surprise, Sidra came over to my window. Her eyes were very clear and very blue, her alabaster skin almost translucent in the afternoon sunlight. She wore no makeup, nor did she need any. Cosmetic enhancement would have only detracted from the ethereal quality that made her so arresting.

“Did you forget something?” I asked.

“No…I need to tell you something.”

Her gaze met mine and I felt a prickle of foreboding. “What is it?”

“You’ve seen the old clock tower in the square?”

“Yes. It’s very beautiful.”

“It’s built on hallowed ground. A battle was fought there or something. Anyway, I thought you should know.” She turned to scurry off.

“Wait! How do you know the ground is hallowed?”

Pausing on the walkway, she glanced over her shoulder, her expression enigmatic. I would never know what she intended to reveal, though, because just then the woman I’d seen at the upstairs window came out on the front porch and called to her.

Sidra froze.

“Is that your mother?”

“She’s home early. Now she knows we didn’t come straight home.”

“Will you be in much trouble?”

“I don’t know. I’d better go in.”

The girl looked terrified and no wonder. As the woman’s gaze met mine, I felt an awful chill go through me.

Eight

Could Sidra see ghosts? Why else had she felt compelled to tell me about the clock tower? And why else would she have waited until Ivy was out of earshot? If she could see ghosts—or something—that required her to seek hallowed ground for protection, she might not want anyone else to know, especially her mother, given everything I’d observed. That I could understand. The fact that she’d shared the knowledge with me should have been a comfort, but instead I felt uneasy and more out of my element than ever.

And yet as I drove back through town, I had a vague sense of familiarity, of destiny, as if maybe I’d been brought here for a reason. Which didn’t really make sense because I’d never been to Asher Falls, and I’d never met anyone from here. It was a lonely place, isolated by a haunted lake. Was it any wonder the people were so strange?

As I turned onto the highway, my gaze lifted to the distant mountains where a dark cloud had formed against the blue haze. As I watched, the cloud drifted lower, swooping down over the treetops until I realized it wasn’t a cloud at all but a flock of blackbirds flying south for the winter.

There was a nip in the wind that blew in through my open window. Despite the warm days, fall was just around the corner, and I dreaded the loneliness that winter always brought. I wouldn’t look ahead, though. What was the point? Right now, it was still hours until twilight, the road was empty and I was free to let my mind wander.

I forced my thoughts back to Sidra and Ivy. What an odd pair—Sidra, with her cropped, silver-gold hair and waiflike demeanor, and Ivy, with her hard edges and exaggerated ennui. I wished now that I’d pressed them for more information about the falls. I really wanted to know why people were afraid to go up there, especially since Luna had recommended that I make the trip. Was that where they’d gone today? I wondered.

I knew all about thin places, of course. Those in-between times and landscapes where the veil between our world and the spirit world was at its thinnest. The Celts believed those places were not only passageways for ghosts but also for demons. On the night of Samhain, they donned horrific masks to placate the forces of chaos. As I dredged up all those old legends Papa used to tell me, I had a sudden image of Wayne Van Zandt’s scarred visage. I seriously doubted he’d clawed his own face in order to mollify evil spirits and yet—

My thoughts shattered as something hit the windshield with a sickening thud. I shrieked and automatically threw a hand up to protect my face. Then I realized what it was. A bird had flown into the glass. I glanced in the mirror and saw a pile of feathers in the middle of the road. A blackbird or a crow, by the looks of it.

Pulling to the shoulder, I got out and approached slowly. The feathers weren’t moving, but I held out hope that the bird might just be dazed. I’d seen them drop like stones after hitting windows, only to rally a few minutes later and fly off. But colliding with a moving vehicle would have a lot more impact than flying into a static pane of glass.

Still, I couldn’t see any blood, and the neck didn’t appear to be broken. I didn’t know what else to do but carefully lift the tiny body from the road and carry it to the shoulder where I nestled it in a bed of clover. I sat there with it for the longest time until something drew my gaze upward where dozens of crows had silently lit on branches and power lines. I caught my breath at the eerie sight, and then I thought of that dark cloud swooping down from the mountains. There were more of them out there. Hundreds more. I wasn’t afraid of an attack, but the fact that they were gathering to watch me made my heart jerk uncomfortably.

Slowly, I got to my feet and eased back to the car. I started the engine, rolled up the windows and pulled onto the road. Thankfully, the birds didn’t follow.

As I neared the turnoff, I took myself sternly to task. I was letting my imagination get the better of me. The crows had probably been there all along. I just hadn’t noticed them. And if I were wise, I wouldn’t place too much importance on the old wives’ tale that claimed birds were not only harbingers of death but also of insanity. I wouldn’t try to connect a murder of crows to all the strange things that had happened since my arrival in Asher Falls. I wouldn’t dwell on the disturbing behavior of the man at the cemetery or Chief Van Zandt’s warning of dangerous animals roaming the woods. I wouldn’t obsess on why I’d been chosen for this job or why Luna Kemper had arranged accommodations for me in a hallowed place.

Above all, I wouldn’t give a second thought to that random meeting with Thane Asher.

* * *

Late that afternoon, I called my mother, but she didn’t feel well enough to talk after her chemo session. Since her diagnosis last spring, she’d spent most of her time in Charleston with my aunt Lynrose so that she could be near the hospital for her treatment. I’d been a little hurt that she hadn’t wanted to stay with me, but given my long hours and travel, this arrangement made more sense. Lynrose was retired and could devote herself completely to my mother’s recovery. And truth be told, the two of them were closer than my mother and I would ever be, though I loved her dearly.

I chatted with my aunt for a few minutes, then afterward Angus and I had dinner on the back porch. He didn’t seem concerned about the quality of his dog food any more than I minded the overripe banana in my fruit salad. He cleaned his bowl, and later we sat out on the back steps to watch the sunset. Despite all the disturbing things that had happened since my arrival in Asher Falls, it was a moment of deep contentment. I’d bonded with Angus in a way I rarely connected with humans. He was the perfect companion. Noble, loyal and I didn’t have to hide my secret from him. He already knew about the ghosts.

I said his name softly, testing his hearing. He turned at the sound of my voice and rested his snout on my knee, giving me that soft, soulful stare. I scratched behind his severed ears and then lay my cheek against his head. His coat was rough and matted, and he wasn’t the sweetest-smelling dog in the world. But I wanted to earn his complete trust before I drove the dark wedge of a bath between us.

We sat there for the longest time, my hand absently stroking his back as I admired the shifting patterns of light and color on the lake. But by the time dusk fell, I was already inside, safe and sound from the ghosts. I listened to music and read for a while, then turned in early, falling asleep without much trouble. If the bells pealed beneath the lake or a ghostly face peered into my window, I wasn’t aware of them. But I dreamed about both.

Nine

The next morning I took Angus with me to the cemetery. After my conversation with Wayne Van Zandt, I wanted the dog close by so that I could keep an eye on him. I also thought he could serve as an early warning system in case that strange man or anyone else showed up.

Considering everything the poor mutt had been through, I’d assumed it would take weeks if not longer to build up his strength. But I was amazed at how frisky he seemed when I let him out of the car that morning. While he chased squirrels, I began the time-consuming task of photographing each grave and headstone from every angle in order to create a prerestoration record for the archives. It was a tedious job for one person. The new part of the cemetery went quickly, but once I moved into the Asher portion, the shade from all the trees and shrubbery slowed me down. Where lichen and moss obscured the inscriptions, I had to use a mirror to angle light onto the stones. Ideally, this was a two-person job, but I’d learned to make do alone.

I worked steadily all morning and broke for lunch around one. I opened the back door of the SUV and sat on the bumper munching an apple while I tossed treats to Angus. He gobbled them with unseemly gusto. I gave him fresh water, and then he found a sunny spot to snooze while I went back to work. The afternoon passed uneventfully, and I became so engrossed in shooting all those strange, angelic faces that I lost track of time. The sun had already started to dip below the treetops when I packed up my equipment and headed back to the car. I had just stepped through the gate when I heard Angus barking. The sound came from somewhere in the woods.

Alarmed, I stored my equipment in the back of the SUV, then walked over to the corner of the fence to call for him. His barking grew even more frantic when he heard my voice, but he still didn’t come.

The tree line lay in deep shadows. I would have preferred not to explore any farther, but I couldn’t leave Angus. Something was keeping him from me. Maybe he’d treed a squirrel or a possum. Or a mountain lion or a bear… .

“Angus, come!”

I heard a howl then and couldn’t tell if it came from the dog or something else. One of those elusive wolves perhaps. The eerie wail completely unnerved me. I had my cell phone and that tiny container of mace in my pocket, but I shuddered to think how close I would need to be to someone—or something—to use it.

A narrow trail led back into the woods, but I had to constantly veer off to avoid fallen branches. The smell of rotting leaves and damp earth mingled with the woodsy aroma of the evergreens. As I began to descend on the other side of the mountain, the cedar and hemlocks thinned, and I found myself tunneling through a heath bald where rosebay rhododendron and mountain laurel grew so dense it was easy to become disoriented. Papa had told me once about getting lost in such a thicket. Laurel hell, he called it. The maze hadn’t been more than a mile square, he said, but it had taken him the better part of a day to find his way out. And this from a man who’d been born and raised in the mountains.