Ransom screamed louder as Plotno and Anita fed on her.
Iconoclast's head snapped back from the huddle with his minions. They had been finalizing their glorious plans and celebrating their victory. So close now. So close.
Atramentous and Miggie flew up the ravine. There they saw the remains of Ransom Plotno and the ones who had murdered her.
“You fools. You should have left well enough alone. Iconoclast will see you, now!” Miggie grabbed Anita, Atramentous looped around Plotno and they dragged them both into the pit. Their screams could not be heard by humans, but all Iconoclast's minions shook as he began to suck their souls, sharp teeth cutting their spirits apart piece by piece. The screams continued as he devoured them small bits at a time.
Bart took off for the ravine. Ken and Paul followed close behind while Kat, Grandma Bricken, and Josiah brought up the rear.
Kenneth jogged past Bart and arrived first. There lay a battered corpse, eyes wide and blank, face frozen in a scream. Steam was rising from the burned, deskinned red mass that had served as muscle and tendon and human being just moments before.
Bart arrived next. “I'll be.”
Although her face was unrecognizable, Bart was sure enough to say, “I believe that is Ransom Plotno, the good Reverend's wife.” Even in death, she would be proud to know that the dark maroon, black-cherry Kool-Aid tint was unmistakable.
Kenneth gave him a questioning look.
“Hair color.”
Ken nodded. “Definitely not a color one sees every day.”
“She's not in the same position as the others.” Ransom lay several feet from the ravine opening, sprawled on her back, dead eyes looking into the starless night sky.
“She doesn't smell like the others, either.”
Ken still had the gloves on from the last murder scene. He bent over, looking at but not touching the large butcher-knife clutched in the late Mrs. Plotno's left hand.
“Mrs. Plotno left-handed?” Kenneth asked.
“Think so, but not sure.”
“Well, there's a mean-looking butcher knife, coated in dried blood, in the victim's left hand. Clutching it for dear life.”
“A lot of good it did her.” Bart walked over to where Ken was crouching and shone the flashlight on the corpse.
“Why the hell didn't she use it to protect herself?”
“Bartholomew Andersen! Watch your language.”
Bart turned, walked forward, and blocked Grandma Brick-en's view.
“You need to go home now. This is no place for you.”
“Really? And at home, waiting to be the next victim of this thing is?” She pushed firmly on Bart's chest until he acquiesced and let her go by.
Grandma's hand flew to her mouth to stifle the involuntary scream that rose in her throat.
“How horrible.” Tears filled her eyes.
“I told you to leave.”
Grandma Bricken turned wet eyes to Bart, those eyes still as piercing green as ever. “I'm not scared of seeing the dead, Bartholomew, I've seen much in my time. But I cry for the soul lost to God. That's the true horror!”
Bart would never understand his aunt. Things like this, that should have sent her wailing back to town with her hands flying back and forth over her head, didn't affect her. This was the same woman who doted with unending pleasure on him and Kat and who chastised them for cussing or ill manners. She never ceased to amaze him.
“This is not the work of Iconoclast.” Josiah had walked up, unnoticed, to see the victim. “It is the work of evil, but not of Iconoclast.”
“How do you know that, Mr. Williams?” Paul asked.
“This woman was a part of Iconoclast's trap for the fifth soul. Her role was not yet fulfilled. She was guarding this pathway to stop anyone from getting down there, and to alert Iconoclast to any intruders—that would be us.”
“Now what?”
“We wait; and we pray. The fifth victim will come. And we must stop that person from going into the ravine.”
The group bent their heads to pray for strength and help. As Kat was bending her head, she caught a glint of something at the top of the path. Maybe it's evidence that would reveal the killer's identity.
She snuck away from the group, not wanting to interrupt them if it turned out to be a bottle cap. She knelt down and saw a beautiful, purple and yellow arrowhead, pulsing the light that had caught her eye. Kat was enraptured by that glow and the colors.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
The speed of the lights quickened in response to her question.
Kat smiled. “How pretty you are!” Something niggled at the back of Kat's mind, something trying to remind her of danger. She couldn't hear it. As incredible as it seemed, the rock began to hum a beautiful, melancholy tune. The variegated hues quivered to its beat.
Pet had its instructions. It was to lure this woman into the ravine and into Iconoclast's lair. But it had to be of her own accord. Pet could not touch her heart; he could not entrap her as he had so many others in his time with Iconoclast. He must not, or the destruction could not happen. This one was the key that would open the abyss and release even more of Lucifer's fallen angels. It would begin small, here in this insignificant town, and grow.
Pet longed to come to his full height and be no one's servant. Iconoclast's captains had sniggered at him for centuries. His small stature prevented him from rising through the ranks like Gambogian or Atramentous. But, just like the fallen angels in the abyss, he would be set free when Iconoclast took the Key.
The hag tree rustled. Kat looked up, attention diverted away from the beautiful tints and music. As she watched, the tree began to sway, invisible leaves tinkling in rhythm with the melody from the rock. Kat looked down the path. She had never been near the top of the ravine. Grandma's warnings had taken hold and she had avoided it all her life.
She peered into the murky darkness that led to the bottom of the ravine. Hemming the narrow walkway were more hag trees, each an exact duplicate of the one that stood so close to the entrance.
“They're shining!”
These hag trees were also sparkling and swaying in time with the music. They emanated glittering specks of purple and yellow. Somehow, they looked so beautiful and so ugly at the same time.
Kat stood up, entranced by the strange and wondrous sights. She took a step forward. The rustling grew louder. Pet, who so wanted to cut her and take her, throbbed a calming beat in her hand. The throb sent vibrations up into her arms and down into her legs so she could feel the tune as well as hear it.
Her body began to sway and dance to the music. She looked back over her shoulder. The others were still deep in prayer, unaware of the amazing phenomenon that was occurring. She turned back to the ravine opening. The hag trees had illuminated a doorway. Yellow strings dripped down its sides, reminding her of those icicle lights that decorated houses at Christmas. She so wanted to touch them. They invited her to do just that.
Kat took a step onto the ravine path. Pet quickened the thrumming in approval and his music grew louder. Kat had forgotten she still had hold of the beautiful rock. She looked down. An ochre aura surrounded her hand. Under Pet's spell, she observed it as a bright gold and green.
“I have never known anything so beautiful.”
The trees and archway at the bottom of the ravine path had changed their tints to match the changing hues of the rock. They brightened each time Kat advanced down the path.
Josiah's head snapped up from the group. He searched the darkness but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He searched again.
There. Josiah saw a dim, mustard light glowing in the ravine. As he watched, it grew in intensity and was joined by a sickening purple. The two pulsed and swirled, growing faster and faster, meeting together like a macabre tornado, until the sky was filled with the top of the funnel, blocking the night sky.
“No, Lord, no!” he said as what was happening began to dawn on him. He had thought that dream had been his overac-
tive, overtired imagination. He had not seen it as the vision of destruction that it was.
All bowed heads came up at the same time. All eyes turned to Josiah.
“The fifth victim is close,” was all that Josiah could say, as he pointed toward the pulsing funnel cloud above the ravine.
“Not possible! We would have heard or seen anyone coming.”
Grandma Bricken looked to her right, where Kat had stood. Fear filled her heart as she grabbed Kenneth's hand and squeezed. Kenneth followed her gaze. He saw the empty space.
Paul Lucas saw the same thing at the same time and began searching frantically in the darkness for a sign of her.
“Shhh!” Josiah motioned to the others as the alarm had run through the small group and they were discussing what to do next.
In the silence, they heard a faint childlike humming.
“That's Kat!” Grandma cried out. She moved toward the ravine, fast. Her cane thumped with each step she took up the hill.
“Where is it coming from?” Bart asked. The hum seemed straight ahead and yet when he turned, it still sounded like it was in front of him.
Josiah fell to his knees, the heels of his hands covering his eyes. “I don't know what to do next!”
His despair touched each member of the group. No one could think past that hopelessness. They stood, paralyzed.
“Jesus, help us and Jesus, please help Kat!” was all the prayer that Paul could get out. And that was enough.
Kat was halfway down the path, humming and picking imaginary leaves from the hag trees when a huge bright orb dropped in front of her.
“Ouch!” Kat shielded her eyes.
The angel, who had so long ago warned Sweeney of the disaster he was walking into, had been sent to warn Kat.
“Stop, Katrina Agnes Tovslosky!”
Kat stopped, not in amazement but because she couldn't figure out how to get around it.
She stood, stomped her foot. She couldn't see that beautiful archway around this intruder.
“Why must I stop? It is so beautiful. And I am so tired. I just want to play for a while, be a little kid again.”
“That is not beauty, Katrina. That is the appearance of beauty but it will swallow you whole.”
Kat thought about this. It just didn't make sense. She sat down, confused.
The angel waited. Unless this lost but beloved child of the Most High ordered him to leave, he would wait.
“You are very tall,” Kat said.
The angel stood, one foot on each side of the path, towering above the hag trees, which were at least eight feet high.
“Really tall,” was all she could think to say.
Pet had stayed silent, hiding from the warrior of God. As Kat's confusion grew, he became bolder.
“Go away, you awful thing!” Pet began to hum louder, trying to break the being of light's tentative hold.
The angel stared at Kat's hand, realizing what lay in it.
“Katrina, you should drop that stone. It has confused your thinking, your emotions.”
Kat looked down at the small, beautiful jewel. She tightened her grip around it.
“No! I found it, it is mine!” she said, staring with defiance into the angel's eyes.
“It has made me feel better—you have not! In fact, now I feel awful. You are the bad one here, go away!”
“So be it!” The angel looked at Kat in sadness before he shot up like a rising star in the darkness.
Kat stood up. “What if he was right?”
“He wasn't,” a resonant and warm voice answered from inside the ravine. The archway glittered and the hag trees swayed.
Kat started singing again, and took another step forward.
Grandma Bricken had made it to the start of the ravine path.
“Whoa.” Kenneth grabbed her arm, just as she had lost her footing and her balance.
“Thank you, young man.”
The rest of the group had followed her to the ravine and stood in a semicircle around her. A smell rose to greet them, the scent of a multitude of decaying corpses assaulted their senses.
Kenneth looked into the ravine and saw a void. Josiah looked into the ravine and saw something much different. A crystalline line had just streaked toward the heavens. In that waning brilliance, Josiah was sure he had seen the silhouette of a woman standing halfway down the path.
“She's down there. I just saw her!”
Bart stared at the old man. He hadn't seen a thing. None of the others had, either.
“We must go or she is lost!”
Grandma believed him. She had always had a sixth sense where her granddaughter was concerned and that sense told her that Katrina was in grave danger and in that ravine. Grandma took another step forward. And, again, Kenneth grabbed her arm.
“Too steep.”
“I must go; she is down there. She pulled her arm loose from his grasp.
“Then I'll go with you.”
“This is dangerous, Kenneth. Are you willing to lose your life? Because that is what this might come to. So, are you?”
He had never thought about dying. He liked living. In fact, he thrived on the thrill of each day. So, was he willing to die tonight?
The answer even surprised him. If Kat was in danger, you bet he was willing to die to save her. She had gotten under his skin in a way no woman ever had. She had become the puzzle he had wanted to get to know and solve. It made no sense to him, but he felt as if he could be in love—no, was in love—with her.
Kenneth looked Grandma Bricken in the eye. “I'm going with you.” His firm tone spoke volumes.
“We're all going. Remember, safety in numbers,” Kat had said that and yet she had allowed herself to get separated from the group.
“We can't all go,” Bart said. “That path is too small. And it is no place for you.”
“I'm going, Bart. That's my Katrina and I need to get to her.”
Bart sighed, “Auntie, I would give you the world, but you can't go down there.” He took her arm, took Paul's arm and placed it on hers.
“Don't let her go down there!” Bart challenged Paul.
“I've got her, Bart, go get your cousin!”
Bart pulled his flashlight from his belt. He grabbed a thin, dead willow trunk from beside the path to use as a walking stick. Kenneth did the same.
The flashlight illuminated a few inches at a time. The darkness absorbed the rest of it.
Bart and Kenneth started down the path, single file, slipping on rocks, ripping clothing on trees and brush that were invisible in the dark. They still could not see Kat. The ravine had grown silent, the humming had ceased.
“Kat,” they yelled, “Kat, are you down there?”
Deep-socketed, hollow eyes stared out from behind the hag trees and brush on the left of the path. Many more pairs joined those eyes, and they watched every move Bart and Ken were making.
They moved deeper into the ravine. Kenneth looked back over his left shoulder, and could not see where the path began.
The air had become so heavy in the last few feet, Kenneth and Bart had a hard time catching their breath. When they did, the smell was so noxious they dreaded taking in the next one.
“I cannot stand here and do nothing!” Grandma Bricken cried out, angry at being held back by her age and limits of her body.
Josiah patted her arm. He knew what awaited Ken and Bart. “We can pray. We can pray that God send his angel again, to pro-tect us and those in the pit. And we need to pray that they will heed any advice the angel offers.
“Kat did not.” He gave Alese's arm a gentle squeeze. “But, be of good cheer, as the Lord says, and believe. He has overcome the world.’” He smiled at her. She relaxed and shook her head, going to her knees. The others went with her, a small, spiritual army as strong as any the earth had seen, doing battle with an evil stronger than the earth had seen in millennia, one person away from destroying everything in its path.
Kat heard something, stopped advancing to t
he archway and listened.
“Kat, is that you?”
Pet hummed louder, trying to drown the voices calling Kat's name. She turned anyway.
“No, turn back, you will find rest, once you go into the ravine. Go to your destiny!”
Kat turned her back to the doorway. She saw that lovely white blue orb reappear on the path. It was beautiful!
Bart was making slow progress, pushing back the overgrowth on the path that seemed to be springing as fast as he could knock it down. Ken was doing the same.
“You are a loser, will always be a loser,” John Doe appeared in front of Bart and reached for him. Bart managed to sidestep his grasp with a second to spare and then froze.
“You stupid fool. You're in my domain now. I can and will take you.”
At the same time, the twins flew from the underbrush to the left of the path and settled in front of Kenneth between him and Bart.
“We love fresh meat!” they said. “You have to be better than those old ravens.” They both moved in on Kenneth. He too had frozen.
In a literal flash came a blinding light. It surrounded both Kenneth and Bart. The twins and John Doe sizzled in its heat and disappeared into the path and to the depths below. The brilliance died and the darkness returned. Where the light had been, the path was clear. They had about ten feet of open ground and then the overgrowth was back, thicker.
Kenneth shook his head, “Bart?”
“Yeah, I saw it. You okay?”
“Yeah, physically, anyway.”
Bart laughed. “Ditto.” They advanced.
“I think our little group is praying. I've never been one for that, but I'm gonna start!” Kenneth said.
Bart grunted a response as he fought through the overgrowth. Kenneth joined him. The path widened a little.
“There's a secret place.” They heard it at the same time, eerie singing. It was Kat's voice but the warmth was gone and replaced by a tone that was both airy and dead.
They stopped. Kat, or what looked like Kat, faced them, yellow glinting from her eyes. She looked through them. She was in a deep conversation with a pitch-black rock in her hand.
Ravens Cove Page 15