“Yeah.” Kyle leaned in, agreeing.
“Yes, you should,” Ash said. “Meanwhile, put ice on it and keep your arm elevated so it doesn’t swell. But it looks like you did a good job disinfecting the wound. Most people don’t think to do that—” He paused and glanced at the sheriff, as if he had said too much. Then he took a step backward.
Tucker pushed his way through the adults until he could see my arm.
“It kinda looks like the mark on that guy’s arm, the one back in the grocery store,” he said. “Remember?”
I shook my head. “What guy?”
“Miss MacFaddin, you and your son might want to stay indoors tonight,” Sheriff Kyle said.
“But it’s Halloween,” Tucker said, with a defiant thrust of his jaw. It was the first time I realized that he had put together a makeshift costume while I was gone, some cross between a rapper and a cowboy.
“I’m not sure why we would need to stay home,” I said. “We never found the dead body and you were pretty confident there was no foul play—” I paused, remembering something. “Wait a minute.” I headed toward the bathroom.
“Dead body? You saw a body in the woods?” Ash frowned, glanced from me to the sheriff as if we had been withholding information. “Where?”
I ignored him, scooped my iPhone off the bathroom counter and started scrolling through the applications. “There’s a video in here somewhere,” I mumbled. The video of the dead body would prove I hadn’t imagined everything. There might even be footage here of those two creatures that had attacked me in the woods.
Everyone followed me and stood in the door to the bathroom, staring at me.
“You took a video of it?” Tucker asked. “I wanna see. Jeremy’s never gonna believe we found a dead body up in the mountains! Can I e-mail it to him?”
But I couldn’t find it. All of my settings were mixed up, like somebody had been messing around with my phone. I kept searching, from one icon to the next, until finally I just leaned against the counter, limp. I wanted to throw the phone across the room and watch it break into a hundred pieces, but I didn’t. Instead I just set it down and crossed my arms.
“Something wrong with your phone, ma’am?” Sheriff Kyle asked.
Ash watched me, a veiled expression on his face. He turned his head away before I could look into his eyes.
“Yes, there’s something wrong with my phone,” I answered, my voice cool. “All of my videos have been erased.”
Chapter 48
Mountain Empire
Thane:
They all collapsed on the floor, a colorful tumble of rag dolls, arms limp, masks and costumes askew. I walked in their midst, careful to not to tread on any tiny hands or feet, a sense of awe rushing through me. I’d never had so many humans at one time, and certainly never so many children.
I remembered the stories back home of how Ash and Lily had been lured to this territory by a small boy. One child, only nine years old, had changed their lives, had given them a harvest that made the entire Blackmoor clan wealthy.
And here on the floor lay a herd of nine-year-old boys and girls.
Already I could smell the intoxicating aroma of their dreams, bubbling to the surface like a rich caramel sauce. I longed to sink to my knees in their midst, to dine at my leisure for days, not even stopping to rest. But in that instant I realized that this was only a portion of what I could have. Suddenly I could see a vision of the future—and each step that it would take to achieve it.
I forced myself to look away, to walk to the foot of the stairs. There I called my sister and brother, both loath to leave the meal set before them.
Finally, with the right tone and the proper enchantment, I lured them both downstairs, where they saw the treasure, my treasure, sprawled across gleaming quartersawn oak floors.
I watched, grinning. Sienna stared at the assortment of children as if they were a platter of decadent pastries. She couldn’t speak. Tears welled in her eyes. She glanced at me, suspicious for a moment, as if waiting for the trickery to be exposed.
I admitted it to myself. I had been cruel to both of them.
Like a proper trained dog, River froze at the foot of the stairs, not moving. From time to time, he glanced at the children, his gaze flicking across them as if afraid to stare too long. But always his attention returned to me. He was waiting for permission. Sure enough, he had learned his lesson yesterday.
Now it was time to make them acknowledge me as leader. When they both stared at me, completely obedient, I gave a small nod.
“Feast,” I said.
And they did.
Chapter 49
Almost Blinded
Maddie:
I stood at the screen door longer than I should have. The October cold bled into the cabin, while snow flurries darted across a dark horizon. Lights beckoned up the road, from every house that tried to hide behind thick hedges and towering pines. A steady stream of trick-or-treaters flowed up and down the main road, each cluster lit up with lanterns, flashlights and glow strips. I could almost smell the peppermint and chocolate that filled every bag.
Behind me, Tucker was putting the last touches on his costume, spiking his hair with my mousse, layering strands of my costume jewelry around his neck.
Meanwhile, I was waiting for the police car to leave.
I told the sheriff that I didn’t need him to stay any longer. He could come over in the morning and prowl the woods if he wanted, but right now I needed some space. Ash and Kyle stood in front of the Chevy Tahoe, talking about something. Rodriguez waited inside the vehicle, headlights cutting through the blinding darkness, white beams like tunnels of daylight washing the side of the cabin.
Kyle got in the car, put it in reverse, then started to back out of the driveway.
But Ash didn’t leave. My heart sped up when I saw him jogging back toward the house. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this, whatever these feelings were that I had for him. Some part of me felt like I’d known him a lot longer than a few days.
Wasn’t that what my mother had said about my father? She fell for him over a weekend. And look how great that all turned out.
He was coming up the stairs now, head tucked down as the wind began to blow. It caught his hair and twisted it to the side, revealing chiseled cheekbones and a strong jaw. Every part of him looked like he had just walked off a movie set. I was glad he couldn’t see the hopeful expression in my eyes. That was the last thing I wanted him to know right now—that I was glad he had decided to come back.
Just then, when he was on the top step—lifting his head to meet my gaze—a wild gust of wind latched onto his coat and blew it to the side. At that same moment, Kyle’s headlights caught him in full silhouette.
I was almost blinded for a second. Then I saw something. A beam of light, about the size of my fist, shone right through Ash’s waist.
I caught my breath.
He was one of them. He had to be. No human could have a hole like that in their side.
Then I couldn’t move. In an instant, I was sorting through all of my memories of him. Somehow Ash had turned up each time right after I had seen one of those creatures in the woods. Today, he was here when I came back with the sheriff. Yesterday, he had found Tucker and me when we were lost in the forest. And what about last night? Something had come into my room, something that smelled just like he did.
He was standing in front of the screen door, staring at me. Meanwhile, the sheriff’s car pulled out onto Main Street and the sudden breeze was gone.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for the two of you to be alone tonight,” he said. He waited on the other side of the threshold, a faceless silhouette.
I took a half step away from the door, unable to speak.
I realized that he could have worn any face, that he probably had a whole trunk full of disguises and this was only one of many. The light fell across his features then, revealed that he was as tall and dark and handsome as a human dared to be. Even
more attractive than he had been a few minutes ago. But there was something else, something quiet and deadly that pulsed beneath the surface.
I nervously glanced back to make sure Tucker was still in the other room.
“I told Sheriff Kyle that I could stay and keep an eye on you,” Ash said.
“No,” I answered, forcing a smile. A moment earlier, I couldn’t wait for him to come back. Now, more than anything, I wanted him to leave. “Thanks, really, but we’re going out in a few minutes and I need to get ready.” I remembered last night, when I had left the window open and two creatures had crept into my house. Had he been one of them? I needed to check the doors and windows again before I left, make sure they were all still locked. “But maybe you could answer a question.” I paused, stiffened my shoulders, forced a courage that I didn’t feel. “What were those creatures that attacked me down in the woods?” I asked.
Silence was my only answer, uncomfortable and dangerous. It felt like shadows were melting, reality was folding and the world was changing into something unrecognizable. I took another half step away from him.
“I don’t know,” he said, finally, his voice different now, rough and raw.
“I think you’re lying.”
He started to lift his hand, palm up, and I remembered the sparkling lights—in my living room, in the forest, back in the bed and breakfast when I went back to get my credit card.
Years ago, when I woke up in the forest and the caretaker had found me.
It all came together in a flash of insight.
Ash was going to cast an enchantment.
I slammed the door shut. Then I leaned against it, terrified that I was going mad. What was I doing? For the first time in years, I finally met a nice, attractive man, someone with no Hollywood or publishing connections. I mean, here was someone who might actually be a decent guy, but no, I’m convinced he’s one of the monsters in the woods. And it wasn’t even as if I had any evidence that the monsters in the woods were real. Maybe I really had stumbled through deadly nightshade, like the vet said. My eyes closed and I still refused to move. I stayed right there, leaning against the door, praying that I would hear Ash’s footsteps thudding down the stairs as he walked away.
And at the same time, I wished that he would never leave.
For a long, frightening moment I didn’t hear anything. Then finally something moved on the porch, the boards creaked.
“Stay indoors, Madeline,” he said from the other side of the door. “Promise me one thing, then I will leave.”
“What?” I asked.
“If anything happens, promise that you will call for me.”
The wind surged against the door, strong and screaming, all the trees scratched against the sky, and a howl raced around the outside of the house.
And then, complete silence.
I opened the door a fraction of an inch.
Ash was gone.
I curled in a bedroom chair, the door closed, a blanket over my lap. Tucker was still in the kitchen, finishing up his dinner. So far he hadn’t noticed that I was acting strangely.
“I feel like I’m going crazy,” I said in a low voice, phone pressed against my ear. “First there was a dead body in the woods and then there wasn’t. Monsters sneak into my house at night, then they attack me in the woods, and I don’t think I even told you this part—Samwise turned into a werewolf, or something—”
“Samwise? Your dog?” my younger sister, Kate, asked.
“Yeah, and he rescued me from the chupacabras—”
“What’s a chupa—chupa-whatever you said?”
“Just another monster, I guess.”
“How’s Tucker?” Kate asked.
“Fine. He’s dressed for Halloween. But I don’t think we’re going out—”
“Other than this whole ‘the monsters are out to get me’ thing, how are you?”
I paused. Reflected for a long moment. “Good, actually.”
“No more depression or crying?”
“No.”
A long quiet followed. Kate must have been thinking. She was always the logical one, the person I turned to whenever my world unraveled. Kate came to stay with Tucker and me when my divorce proceedings started, when there were camera crews and reporters lurking outside my front door every day for weeks. It certainly hadn’t helped that my husband worked in the entertainment industry, or that he had run off with my best friend—the woman who had been a collaborator on my last two books.
“Wasn’t there a part about some hallucinogen and a doctor who said that you might have accidentally ingested some?” Kate said.
“Yeah.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen anything—anything strange?”
“It was about an hour ago, maybe longer,” I answered, remembering the headlights that had blinded me, that hole in Ash’s side. I wrapped the blanket around my feet, then glanced out the window. The snow was coming down harder now, in big clumps. It was sticking to the ground and the trees, turning the landscape white.
“And the first time was when?”
“Last night, wait, yesterday late in the day, when I was in the woods. Um, about four o’clock, I guess. It was starting to get dark.”
Another long pause while Kate digested all the information.
“I think you probably did get some of that nightshade stuff in your system. But it’s been more than twenty-four hours, so I think it’s worked its way out. I don’t know for sure, maybe you should go see a doctor, but Maddie,” Kate took a deep breath before continuing, “I really don’t think there’s anything up there for you to worry about. Did Tucker ever see the creatures?”
“No.”
“And the videos you took are gone?”
“All my videos are gone.”
“I know, honey. But you might have tried to take a video, under the influence, and accidentally erased all of them by mistake.”
“So, you think I’m making everything up,” I said, running my fingers over the edge of the blanket, not sure whether I liked this answer.
“I didn’t say that you were making anything up. Some wild animal, maybe a raccoon or a squirrel, probably did break into your house, and you must have scraped your arm in the woods. Maddie, you’ve got to admit, you have a pretty active imagination. Combine your imagination, the stress you’ve been under, and some unknown hallucinogenic plant, and I think you’ve got the perfect recipe for shadowy monsters with big wings. Sheesh. You’ve almost got me seeing them now.”
Kate laughed. I joined in, a bit nervously, wishing that she were here.
“You think I should stay home?”
“Not unless you think you’re not safe to drive,” Kate answered. “How’s your vision? Any slurred speech?”
“My vision and speech are fine. And I’ve already driven today, no problems.”
“Well, you don’t have to drive to go trick-or-treating. Just go to a few houses in your neighborhood. Take a flashlight—”
“Yes, Mom.”
Kate laughed again. “And don’t stay out late. You’re probably exhausted from all this.”
“You really are a lot like Mom, you know it? I miss her.”
“Me, too, sweetie. Are you okay now?”
“Yeah.”
“Look, just promise me one thing,” Kate said. “Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”
“Weird. That’s exactly what Ash said.”
“Yeah, well, he was probably worried about you. Just like me. Maybe he knows what can happen when people get that plant in them. And I think you mentioned that somebody warned you to stay off that trail—”
“I’m hanging up now. Thanks, really. I love you—”
“I love you too—”
I hung up the phone and listened to the wind. It took a wild circuitous route, began down by the creek, then rushed up through the trees, and finally raced around the cabin, all the while singing in a pale, fragile howl. I glanced up, saw Tucker standing in my bedroom
door, all nine years of him pretending to be someone street tough and ultra cool.
“I’m ready, Mom. Let’s go,” he said, flashing a dazzling rapper grin. He had fashioned a fake tooth, trimmed with gold and a rhinestone in the center.
This was my boy, from skin to bone to soul, the best thing in my world and the reason why I was going to beat that demon writer’s block. No way my ex-husband was going to get custody, even though our divorce settlement had left me broke, even though his dalliance with my best friend had stolen my confidence.
All I needed was one more best seller.
And I knew exactly what I was going to write about now.
The monsters who lived in Ticonderoga Falls.
Chapter 50
Moon Song
Ash:
The wind whisked through the forest hollows, stronger, meaner, more self-possessed than usual. It spoke with a voice tonight, like a whistling moan, like it mourned the dying of autumn. I huddled against the far end of the cottage porch, invisible, my skin the same color as the moon-shifting shadows. Sage hovered at my side. I sensed the eagerness within her, a buoyancy that couldn’t be bridled. I could feel it too—an ache at the base of my wings and in the back of my throat, all the colors around me turning pale.
Overhead, the moon sang.
The cloud cover pulled back from time to time, like a beast that longed to show its teeth; the snow had frosted the passing humans, making them look candy-coated. Still, through all of this, the moon called.
It wasn’t truly a song, more of a hum actually. A vibration that surged from sky to sinew, reverberated inside me and all of my people—a single low, holy note that drove us to feast, sifting through humans and dreams until we each found the perfect one.
To have and to cherish. To memorize and immortalize. To tell and retell around the flickering fires of home. During long winter nights, dreams were our only food; we continually retold the tales harvested during summer. Human dreams built every home and cultivated every field, they fueled every teacher and inspired every child.
Meanwhile, the harvest itself left behind a trail of moon dust and inspiration that would drive the host to greater dreams.
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