by Tim Waggoner
Joanne’s head was spinning, and not entirely due to the aftereffects of being imprisoned in Lenora’s psychic trap. “What’s a Reliquary?”
“No more questions now, dear. Anything else you need to know, Mr. Ramsey can explain on the way. As much as I’d like to give you a chance to rest, we can’t afford to take the time.”
Althea left the bedroom walking at a brisk pace. Joanne turned to Dale, hoping he’d clear things up, but he stepped to her side, took hold of her elbow, and began leading her after Althea.
“When did you get here?” she asked. “How long was I out?”
“I just arrived, and from what Althea told me, you were unconscious — or whatever the right word is — for a few minutes. They don’t have much of a headstart on us, but every moment counts, so we need to haul ass.”
They moved through the outer room of Marshall’s quarters. The living area was decorated in similar fashion to his bedroom, with globes, maps, navigation equipment, and bookshelves filled with travel guides. Joanne remembered what Marshall had said about rarely getting the opportunity to travel, and while there was much about Marshall Cross that she didn’t like, she couldn’t help feeling a certain sympathy for him at that moment.
“Haul ass to where?” she demanded.
“Althea already told you. To the Reliquary. The word refers to a shrine where sacred objects are kept, by the way.”
As they left Marshall’s quarters and entered the hall, Joanne realized that Dale no longer looked as exhausted as he had this morning at the charred ruins of the Caffeine Café. He seemed completely restored, as if he’d had an infusion of vitality since last she’d seen him. Maybe it was just the urgency of the situation lending him energy, but somehow she didn’t think so.
Althea was moving swiftly down the hall away from them, almost but not quite running. Joanne’s legs were still wobbly, and her head had begun throbbing again, but with Dale’s steadying hand to help her, they managed to close the gap between them and the matriarch of the Cross clan. But soon after that Althea stopped in front of a door. She took a key out of her pocket, unlocked it, and gestured for Joanne and Dale to enter. The room inside was completely empty, save for an elevator door set into the far wall. Althea walked past them and used a second key to activate the elevator. When the door opened, Dale led Joanne into its black leather-padded interior. There was a single unmarked button next to the door, and Joanne pressed it.
Althea did not join them in the elevator.
“You’re not coming?” Joanne said.
“I cannot,” she said. “It would be … dangerous for me to be near the Reliquary right now.” She looked at them one last time, her expression unreadable. “Whatever else happens, the Reliquary must be protected at all costs. All costs.”
Dale nodded. “I understand.”
Althea nodded back, and as the door began to slide shut, Joanne said, “I’m glad you understand, but would you mind letting me in on the joke?”
He gave her a sympathetic look as she felt the elevator being to smoothly descend. “Do I really need to?”
She was about the scream at him to start giving her straight answer when the back of her skull started tingling so hard it felt like her head might explode any second, and intense nausea squeezed her stomach in a sickly cold grip. It was a Feeling with a capital F — the strongest she’d ever had. She understood Dale’s response then. The specific details of what was happening weren’t important. What mattered was this shit had to be stopped.
Despite her head and her stomach, she pulled away from Dale, straightened, and drew her 9 mm.
“Tell me what we have to do.”
And as the elevator continued its descent, Dale began talking.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“The Crosses were among the first families to settle in this area of Ohio,” Dale began. “At least, the first of European origin. A Native American tribe called the Nadana had lived here for centuries before that, but they were gone by the time the white settlers came. Or so it seemed. The settlers built homes and began carving out lives for themselves here, and it wasn’t long before they discovered what they came to call Barrow Hill Mound. They didn’t know what it was exactly, but they could tell it was man-made. One day a girl — a Cross girl — decided to climb to the top of the mound. And the mound took her.”
Joanne thought of what had happened to Sarah Rodgers at the mound and suppressed a shiver.
Dale continued. “It swallowed her whole, as if it were a living thing, leaving no sign of her passage into the earth. Her sister had been playing with her at the time — though she’d been too afraid to climb the mound — and she fled home to tell their parents. Panicked, the girl’s mother and father summoned help, and the settlers began digging at the spot where the girl had vanished. After six days they’d only managed to dig down a dozen feet, and though they’d found human remains, the bones were old and obviously belonged to adults. But at the end of the sixth day, the girl reappeared. She came walking out of the woods, naked but otherwise unharmed.” He smiled. “That part sound familiar?”
The elevator came to a gentle stop and the door slid open. Outside, a fluorescent light flicked on, illuminating a row of electric carts lined against a stone wall. Dale walked out of the elevator and headed for one of the carts. Joanne walked beside him, still holding her 9 mm, surveying the area as they went, alert for any sign of trouble. Her Feeling was even stronger now, but instead of being debilitated by the accompanying sensations, she seemed to draw strength from them. Good. She figured she was going to need all the help she could get.
Dale climbed behind the cart’s steering wheel, and Joanne took the passenger’s seat. She understood why Dale had chosen to drive, and she agreed with his decision. He was the one who knew where they were going, and this way, her hands would be free if she needed to fire her weapon. Dale thumbed a button and the engine came to life with a soft electric hum and a faint odor of ozone filled the air. He flicked on the cart’s headlights, put the engine in gear, and pressed down on the accelerator. With a jerk, the cart took off, and Dale angled the small vehicle to the left, the headlights illuminating a tunnel that looked to Joanne like it belonged to an old-fashioned mining operation, the kind she’d only ever seen in films.
Dale picked up his story where he’d left off.
“There was one big difference between the Cross girl’s disappearance and yours. When the other girl returned, she retained her memory of what had happened to her inside the mound — or more accurately, beneath it. She told the other settlers that an ancient godlike being dwelled in the darkness deep in the earth. A creature that was older than the stars, older than time. The Nadana had known of it, and — following instructions given to them by the creature itself — they built Barrow Hill Mound. Not to worship the creature, but to contain it. The being, whom the settlers came to call the Old One, was so unimaginably ancient that, while it still lived, its vast mind had begun to deteriorate. It had a sort of cosmic version of Alzheimer’s, I suppose you could say. Once the mound was built, the Old One slipped into a state resembling hibernation, perhaps to slow the decay of its mind, perhaps for some other unfathomable reason. But in this state it dreamed, and from time to time, its dreams would leak out into reality. The settlers had already experienced a number of strange occurrences since they’d come to the area, and now they understood the reason for them. Such manifestations continue to this day. I should know. I spent most of the night being chased by one.”
“What?”
“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. Back to the story. The girl told her people that she’d been with the Old One, actually been inside its mind for six days, and during that time she not only learned the truth about the being, but of how the Nadana had buried their dead above it, so that their spirits could help strengthen the Old One’s control of its dreams and keep them from spilling over into the real world. In return, the spirits of the dead enjoyed a paradisiacal existence within the mind of the O
ld One, and those among the living who served the being were rewarded with great powers of the mind. But eventually the Nadana died out, for reasons not even the Old One seemed entirely clear on. It had been without servants for many, many years, and its mind had deteriorated even further as a result. So when the girl climbed to the top of the mound, the Old One drew her in, taught her about it and its needs, and sent her back to her people to offer them the same deal the Old One had given the Nadana. Serve me and I shall give you power beyond that of all other men, and I will ensure you an afterlife of eternal bliss.”
“And they went for it,” Joanne said.
“Of course they did. Once the girl showed them her newfound powers and convinced them her story was true. Though I suspect she also used those powers to get them to accept the Old One’s offer. So the settlers repaired the damaged they’d done to the top of the mound, and at the girl’s direction began tunnels — like the one we’re in now — to reach the Old One. And when they finally did, they built the Reliquary, a repository where the spirits of their dead could be housed and their energy added to the mass of souls that help contain the Old One’s dreams.”
Joanne remembered he small stone figure Marshall had touched to the head of Tyrone’s body, his puzzled expression as he said, Something’s wrong. It’s not here. And when she’d asked what, Marshall’s reply was, His essence. “They capture the spirit in stone carvings, don’t they?”
Dale nodded. “They’re called icons. The Old One told the Cross girl that the icons would be more efficient than just burying dead bodies in the mound, and she taught her people how to make them. As long as one is touched to the body within a day or two of death, the spirit can be absorbed.”
“So right now we’re traveling from Sanctity to the Mound?” Joanne asked.
“The Crosses need access to the Old One to deliver icons to the Reliquary, and though they don’t exactly worship the creature, they do gather in its presence. Especially when important family members come in from out of town.”
Even though it was Dale telling her these things, Joanne knew that she should’ve been at least skeptical of the outlandish tale he’d woven for her so far. But too many of the pieces fit, and besides, her gut told her that, bizarre as it might be, Dale was telling her the truth.
“So where do I fit into all this?” she asked. “What happened to me during my disappearance?”
“You were playing alone near the mound one day when you felt drawn to climb it.” Before she could protest, Dale added, “You don’t remember this now, but trust me, it happened. Like the Cross girl long ago, you were taken by the Old One, pulled into its mound, and spent six days there. No one knew what had happened to you, and the whole county began searching. Including me. After losing my own little girl …” He broke off with a sigh and shook his head as if to clear the thought away. “Not even Althea knew where you where, not at first, but as the days wore on, she began to suspect. I didn’t know the whole story of the Old One then, but I’d discovered some fragments here and there over the years. I went to Sanctity and questioned Althea, and though she wouldn’t tell me everything, she gave me enough hints so that I decided to go to the mound and check it out. I climbed to the top, and I was drawn in, just as you were.
“I don’t remember much. I remember darkness and light and something that was a hybrid of the two, while at the same time being neither.” He smiled apologetically. “Sorry. It’s hard to explain. But eventually I became aware that you were there, too. I tried to reach out for you, but I couldn’t find you. And then I heard a voice. No … more like felt it in my mind. It told me things — about itself, about the Nadana, and what they and later the Crosses had done to help preserve what the remaining scraps of its sanity. The Old One then asked me if I wanted to return you to the world, and I said yes, more than anything. Then it asked that, if it let me have you, would I serve it. Again, I said yes. And then it told me it would be my task to aid and protect the Guardian. The next thing I knew you and I were standing next to the Reliquary. You were naked, but I still had my clothes on — perhaps because I wasn’t in the Old One’s mind for very long, or perhaps because it didn’t need to do anything to change me. I don’t know. But when you saw me, you screamed and ran off into the darkness. I was alarmed that I might have found you — and made a bargain with some sort of ancient god — only to lose you.
“I started searching, and I quickly became lost as well. Both of us might’ve died in those tunnels, but Althea came looking for us. She found you, then me. She took us to Sanctity and, despite my protests, she used her powers to suppress your memory of what happened. Afterward, you fell asleep. She said it wasn’t necessary that you remember and that it would be a kindness to help you forget until the day you were ready to know the truth. Maybe she was right. At any rate, Marshall drove us into Mare’s Nest Woods and dropped us off. You were still asleep, and after Marshall drove away, I began carrying you. Eventually you woke up, your memory of the whole experience gone. I told everyone I’d found you in the woods, and with the help of Stan Manchester, not to mention the Crosses’ influence, few questions were asked, and my story was accepted.”
Joanne looked at Dale with new understanding. “I always knew you were a good man, Dale Ramsey, but you made a literal deal with a devil to save me. There’s no possible way I can ever thank you enough.”
Dale drove for a few moments more before responding. “I lost my wife and daughter because of a choice I’d made. Afterward, I vowed I would never lose anyone again, not if I could help it, no matter the cost to me personally. You don’t ever have to thank me, Joanne. On the contrary, I should thank you. Rescuing you and working at your side ever since … it saved me.”
Even though Joanne now knew the truth, she still couldn’t recall any specific details about the time she’d spent with the Old One. “There’s still one thing I don’t know. What did the thing do to me? What am I?”
“I told you. You’re the Guardian. Even with the Crosses’ help, the Old One’s dreams still escape from time to time, resulting in the strange events that occur in the county. It’s your job to deal with the weirdness when it happens. That’s why you have your Feelings. They tell you when something is wrong and needs fixing. Plus — and I’m not sure Althea knows this — I believe you’re supposed to serve as a check against the Crosses. They might serve the Old One, but the powers they’re granted can be abused all too easily. You’re supposed to help keep them in line.”
“In other words, I’m the Old One’s watchdog.” She didn’t like the sound of that.
“That’s one way to look at it, but not the only way. The borders of Cross County roughly correspond to the Old One’s sphere of influence. You’re the county sheriff, aren’t you? Why did you think you were elected, young as you are? The Crosses wanted to make sure the Guardian was in the best position to perform her duty.”
“My election was fixed?” After everything she’d learned recently, she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was.
“Let’s just say the Crosses helped your campaign. And I contributed by convincing you to run in the first place. But I didn’t do so to help carry out the Crosses agenda. I thought you’d make a damned good sheriff, and you have. Better than Stan Manchester ever was — and not because you were chosen to serve some half-demented god. Because of who you are. Joanne Talon, steady of hand, clear of eye, and stout of heart.”
“And you’re full of shit,” she muttered.
Though they were zooming through a tunnel in an electric cart, heading for a rendezvous with a danger Joanne was only beginning to fully comprehend, she couldn’t help thinking of what implications the revelations she’d learned had for her as a person. She’d meant what she’d said when she’d told Terry she’d learned to leave her disappearance in the past and focus her emotional energy on the here and now. But now she knew that she’d been changed during the six days she’d been missing. But the question was, changed into what? The way she’d e
merged naked from the Old One’s mind, it was as if she had been destroyed and reborn within the depths of its deteriorating psyche. So what did that make her? If she wasn’t the same Joanne Talon that had fallen inside the mound, who was she? Some kind of duplicate? Was she even human at all? And everything she’d done in her life, the choices that she’d made, the accomplishments she’d worked so hard to achieve, the good she’d tried to do for the citizens of Cross County … was all of it because she was simply fulfilling her role as the Old One’s Guardian, following the path the ancient being had mapped out for her, with no more self-awareness or autonomy than a machine carrying out its pre-programmed function?
“I may well be overflowing with shit,” Dale said, “but we still have a job to do. Now it’s your turn to get me up to speed. Althea told me that Lenora, Marshall, and Debbie are headed for the Reliquary, and that they pose a threat to it. That’s all I know.”
Joanne spent the next several minutes of their journey through the dark, winding tunnel telling Dale everything she’d learned since they’d last seen one another.
“Let me see if I got this straight,” Dale said. “Carl Coulter’s spirit was drawn back to the world of the living because he thought his mother was in danger, and he didn’t like the idea of someone impersonating him. He tried contacting you in a dream, but when the dream turned nightmarish, you awoke, and he was unable to deliver his message. So when he couldn’t get through to tell you what was happening, he tried to communicate with Lenora, his half-sister. But he did more than just talk with her. He became her. And now brother and sister are working together to get revenge on Marshall and the rest of the Crosses by destroying the Reliquary.”