Trembling, Tess moved closer to the locomotive, confused, hating every step she had to take. Inside the engine cab, a trainworker lay dead, his eyes open and fishlike. There was a strange mist about him, possibly steam, and Tess fumbled around to find anything useful when she was suddenly startled.
The dead man had moved.
She saw his reflection in a brass fitting in the engine cabin. His bloated, watery eyes had fixed upon her.
She kept herself very still.
“Tess…,” the worker hissed out of unmoving lips.
For an instant, she tried to ignore it, forcing herself to recognize the sound as being from her imagination, but the hiss came again, quieter. “Tess…”
She turned in horror—stifling a scream—but the body was still. She stared at it, shaking, wondering if she’d conceived it out of true distress. But she knew she hadn’t.
Bodies could do things they weren’t supposed to do. She and Tobias had heard of at least half a dozen places on Earth where a body could move after death, sometimes long after death, if the elements were right. She had read of it many times, but to see it happen with her own eyes was more disturbing than she could have imagined.
She emerged from the engine, terrified, and empty-handed. She needed Tobias, just for a moment, to settle her mind.
Up ahead, helping passengers out of a car, Tobias yelled to her, “Did you see something? Was anything in there?”
She couldn’t answer. He could see her fear, but he couldn’t come to her.
Trying to control her mind, she walked back down the tracks toward him, her boots crunching through the snow. Sattler and the other young men walked the snowfield to her left, assisting the injured. Two other gentlemen, strong men who looked to be in their forties, pulled open a banged-up train door.
Tess saw the first man signal Sattler. “A lot of these people are in a state of shock and immobility. They’re the first-order cases,” he told him.
“Where do we get blankets?” said Sattler.
“Believe they’ve got ’em in the last car.”
Sattler, Michael, and Ned headed for the intact caboose, still on the rails.
Tess continued toward Tobias, who was helping the dour, thin woman with the dolls get out of the train car.
“My dolls…,” she said. “You have to get them.”
Tobias stared at her demurely. “We have more important concerns right now. Like you.”
The thin woman stepped awkwardly, and Tobias’s hand slipped from her back to below her waist. “Be careful with me,” she snapped. “You will not touch me in my…unmentionables.”
“Madam, everything about you is unmentionable,” Tobias muttered under his breath. “Come, come, move along.”
Trying to help, he nearly lifted her off the ground. Tess saw the thin woman’s surprise, but she knew that despite his lean frame, Tobias had a fullness in his arms. Tess had need of that strength now, but as she tried to get his attention, he moved on and began helping another female traveler from the car.
The lady looked at him, dazed. “I heard…There were voices in my head…Such cruel voices…”
Tobias was intrigued, but nearby in the snow, the thin woman motioned angrily for him to steady her. “I’m not well. This is revolting.”
Annoyed at the distraction, Tobias said, “Very useful observation.” The gaunt woman glared at him. His hands full with the dazed passenger, he added, “Honestly, can you not see that people are upset? Why don’t you help this person?”
He quickly handed off to the doll seller the lady he was assisting.
“Tobias,” Tess said, keeping her voice measured. “There’s something very wrong…”
“Most of the trainworkers are dead, aren’t they?” Tobias guessed. “We need to get more help right away.”
“It’s blood. The blood…”
“Tess, you’re in shock—”
“No, listen to me—I felt something—”
“Try to find a blanket. Keep yourself warm,” Tobias told her, his attention drawn to something between the railcars, a piece of the puzzle that had formed in his mind. He went off to have a look, making quick tracks in the snow.
“Tobias, if you could just wait…” She couldn’t make her voice hold him; somehow, she couldn’t sound firm. He had moved away, not far, but just out of reach in every way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tess just stood there, feeling abandoned, the first time she’d ever felt that emotion with him. They were too close for this to happen.
Tobias, however, was relying on that closeness. Knowing she was with him, he wasted no time on sentiment, instead pondering what lay before him.
Between the cars he could see the rails had bent strangely, pushed out and disconnected from the ties, especially up by the engine. He turned over in his mind the possibility that the elk herd had dislodged the weak rails. But it seemed this was deliberate work, and it occurred to him the approaching elk would have supplied a substantial diversion, so no one aboard would have even noted the problem with the tracks. At the same time, the train would have been accelerating to avoid collision, worsening the effects of the crash.
Behind him, at the caboose, Sattler shouted, “WE’VE FOUND BLANKETS BACK HERE—”
Ned added, “There’s a medical supply kit as well. Help us get these things loose from here.”
Tobias reluctantly headed over to help them.
Tess reached for his arm. “I need to speak to you.”
Tobias didn’t look back, and her hand fell against nothing. “I know that, I know, just wait—Go ask where the doctor’s house is,” he said. “We need to get help quickly.”
Tess stood there, stunned.
At the caboose, Ned and Michael were pulling out blankets, as Annette and Sattler opened a medical box. Michael kept shooting glances at Annette, wanting some recognition, but she seemed to avoid his gaze.
Sattler ran his hand through his hair and looked over the supplies without much hope. “I don’t think anyone’s opened this for years. I guess the morphine would be all right…”
Annette glanced at him sharply. “Well, you’re the medical student, can’t you do something with it?”
Tobias heard him reply quietly, “Don’t tell anyone that. I’m afraid I might do more damage than good.” Tobias pretended not to hear, and helped unload blankets.
Standing in the snow, Tess wondered how Tobias could not have felt what she had. How had he failed to detect the presences here, the weight of spirit all around them? The wounded conductor came up alongside her, limping, and she fumbled to find words. “Sir, do you know where the doctor’s house is? Is it near?”
The conductor was in a daze. He mumbled to her, “I think…the old house. Mordecai place.”
“I don’t understand…”
“The house is but five-minutes’ walk, if that. Straight up the tree line.”
Tess moved toward the woods, prepared to go it alone. She hadn’t gone far before a sense of something silent and evil in the forest caught her, and she stared ahead, unable to go farther. There was a deeper darkness in the trees ahead, a pool of emptiness.
She shouted back to Tobias, but he looked irritated. “Go on—you can do this thing, Tess.”
Resolved and angry, she yelled back at him, “Tobias Goodraven. You got me out here, you will go with me.”
Reluctant, he looked at the injured travelers, but moved toward her.
Crossing the snow quickly to meet him, Tess told him everything in a rush, thankful to get it all out. “Listen to me. I’m not in hysterics. Something is out here. There was a wounded man, his blood vanished inside him and what I saw…Oh God, I don’t know what I saw, Tobias…”
“Spirits,” said Tobias. “A person rejects their own death, they distort the world around them. You know this, Tess—these were untimely deaths. We can expect to see more of it….”
“This isn’t like the literature. This isn’t a séance with sliding objects on a table
or whispers in a dark room.” She protested angrily. “This is enormous power. I’m not sure even a witch could master this.”
“Let’s have no talk of witchery until we are certain what is truly unfolding,” argued Tobias, though his low voice wavered in tone. “Don’t frighten yourself needlessly. We are educated in this regard, and our knowledge will see us through.”
But the sense is so much stronger than before. Perhaps he was covering his feelings to avoid upsetting her. She wasn’t mad; it wasn’t mere suggestion that had caused her to see things. It wasn’t likely that encounters with the dead could suddenly cause madness, was it? Was this part of the curse upon this land? Those who seek the truth in the blood of Salem dead will know nothing but torment in their head….
Forget those words, she thought. It’s impossible.
Tobias seemed more concerned with her than anything in the woods. “You know how things have been shaking you lately. I’ve put you through too much, I’m sorry,” he said, in a rare apology. “Let us deal with one matter at a time. It’s quiet for now.”
He kissed her on the forehead, surprising her, and his warmth against her even for a second was pleasing. But he continued forward.
This was, for her, one of those moments that quietly illuminated everything; she understood for the first time how it was that he got her into these situations. It was always “going to be fine” it was endlessly “going to work itself out.” He had a ready supply of calming words he used, and because things did always work out, he got away with talking her into dangerous places, and convinced himself that she liked them as much as he did. But what if it was not going to work out this time?
“Tobias, you feel different about this place. Why won’t you just admit it?”
“I don’t know what’s happening,” he said. “I can’t protect you from this—you don’t want me to say what I’m thinking.”
The two strode into the forest without speaking. Tess tried to relinquish her worries; the people back there needed her.
She was deeply thankful that they hadn’t gone far into the woods before coming upon a large house, old and defiant in the wilderness. A smaller, partly restored home clung beside it. There was nothing welcoming about either building; rather, the warped old windows seemed to absorb the pale light, leaving an impression of blackness in the structures. Snowflakes seemed to drift away from it at the last instant, and the rooftops gave off a strange aura of steam. The smell of wet spruce and fir had disappeared. An unseemly desolation enclosed Tess; she felt nearly devoid of sensation.
Reaching the smaller building she rapped on the door hurriedly. The little home was so quiet she could hear the distant shouts of the survivors behind her. Why couldn’t the owner hear the terror that was happening outside?
Tobias went on to take a look at the larger house, and Tess was left alone.
Moving around the building, she saw no signs of life.
Driven by the desperate sounds behind her, she tried the door and found it unlocked.
She went in.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The room was empty. Tess called out but no one replied. Predictably, the telephone reputed to be here was nowhere in sight. She was in what appeared to be an office. Bookcases lined the room, few of them full. The doctor must have only recently settled into the place. An examining table lay before her, with small icicles hanging from it.
Icicles. How long had the doctor’s office been left like this, she wondered.
She glanced past the table to a cherrywood cabinet. She knew full well that it might contain medicines and any number of useful items, but there was something in its aspect that disturbed her. The cabinet’s wood was carved with vines of roses that seemed to suggest faces, looking diabolical, half-completed, as if deformed or partly animalistic.
Not only sinister, the supply cabinet was a considerable disappointment compared to the telephone she’d hoped to find. The devices had blossomed across Massachusetts for nearly two decades, but they were still scarce in the countryside. Without one, Tess had to accept it was unlikely anyone would know for some time there was trouble.
She remembered the innkeeper, Mrs. Harnow, had wanted to come to the carnival. A woman like that would not let such a grand occasion pass her by. Mrs. Harnow’s husband was a fireman; maybe she would bring him with her finally. And for that matter, couldn’t the smoky bonfires they’d made be seen from Salem? They were far away, but it was possible.
The express was probably nearly an hour late or so already. Help would surely come, with or without a telephone.
Taking in a cool breath, she crossed the room.
The cabinet was empty.
Dispirited, Tess was about to leave the house when she saw a shadow in the corner of her eye.
It moved.
She turned. There was nothing to see.
It had been fast, whatever it was. She was staring in terror at the open door, the empty woods…
She could sense something in the room beside her. Someone had slipped in while she was busy with the cabinet. He was very close, giving off a kind of heat. But she would not confront him. Be calm, you saw nothing, she tried to convince herself.
She turned to leave—but whoever it was decided to come at her, rushing from the ink-dark shadows, pushing her against the wall.
It was the foreigner, Wilder. “Shh,” he hissed.
“You.”
“She is among us, signora,” he said, his eyes fixed on her, listening intently. “Here.”
“There is nothing here,” Tess protested.
“It is made to seem that way,” said Wilder. His gigantic body was close against hers, and realizing it, he moved back. “You felt it also, did you not?” Tess wasn’t sure what she felt, aware of nothing but the man alone. She wondered if he had somehow figured out her ability to sense the spirit realm.
Wilder ruminated for a moment, his eyes ransacking the house for danger. “I would not enter here. I thought it her homestead.”
Tess frowned. “So you let me enter instead?”
“To test the waters.”
“Test your own waters!”
Wilder’s dark eyes betrayed no sympathy. “All goodness demands some sacrifice….”
“Just what did that old man say to you? What is it exactly you’re hunting here?”
“A thing of fairy tales and nursery rhymes.” He held up a small book. “It’s Salem’s journal of the Magistrate,” he explained. “Jurey gave it to me. It would seem he was part of a secret group, and on a mission of great importance.”
He added, “The Salem witch trials had dealings with those who were far from innocent.” His face was rigid with alertness. She could see his suspicion of the house persisted.
“There is only death in this place,” she said.
“This is where the original Salem witches sought refuge,” he said. “I falsely thought one remained: Old Widow Malgore. That’s what Jurey called her. Not a woman at all, but a beast—it could be upon us at any moment.”
His mood made Tess even more wary. “Your hands would be better suited to helping us.”
Wilder looked offended. “My hands are in your service, signora. I do this for the good of all.”
Just then Tobias came in. “The other house’s doors are locked,” he announced, looking displeased at Wilder, who seemed rather too close to his young wife.
“My search for a telephone was of no use,” Tess replied.
Tobias didn’t look at her. “Is Mr. Wilder…of some use?”
Wilder answered humorlessly. “I’m only interested in the body.”
At this, Tobias raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
Wilder turned and moved into the dark of the adjoining room. He pushed out a chair with a man’s dead body in it, as if expecting to find it there. “The doctor,” he explained.
Tess nearly gasped.
“She expects no resistance.” Wilder smiled gravely.
She? Tess wondered. The witch?
“Jurey told me this would happen,” he said. “The creature believes no one will challenge her. He told me that what we know of these things are mostly lies….”
Wilder pulled a long, sickle-shaped dagger from the body. “To kill a wretch like this, you need a weapon of her own making to use against her.” He held up the blade. “She’s left us a means of destroying her. Careless, see that? Old Widow Malgore does not fear us.”
Tobias watched him tensely. “Who did this murder?”
“I should think it obvious,” said Wilder.
Tobias’s composure barely cracked. “Mr. Wilder, you seem rather hasty in taking up Mr. Jurey’s beliefs.”
“Well, I met a man like Josiah Jurey once. An old Chinese in New York. He warned me that an assassin pursuing my employer was a woman skilled in witchcraft. I did not believe his words. And when she attacked—in an opium den, while we were vulnerable—I lost two very good friends in death. Thus, Mr. Goodraven, I never fail to listen closely when such men speak.”
Suddenly, the dead figure fell forward. Its hand grasped Wilder’s wrist tightly, shaking the dagger loose, and as Wilder fumbled with the convulsing man, his book fell to the floor.
Forcefully Wilder threw the dead man back and blasted the body twice with his pistol. Tess screamed. The body quivered and then wilted, ceasing all movement.
In the smoky quiet that followed, Tobias tried to seem calm and unimpressed, though Tess saw through the coolness of his bearing. “He may have been asking for help, you know,” said Tobias.
Wilder shot a look at him. “He was dead.”
“Ah. Thus the unnecessary movement?”
Wilder pocketed the dagger. “He was bewitched to take this from me. You saw it: the witch can reanimate death….”
Tobias would not give in. “I’ve seen enough death to know we define it too simply. He may not have been dead at all.”
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