Back on the street, she had to figure out where she was going. Simply driving around until she had no choice but to return home didn't sit well with her. She needed a destination. She drove to the hospital, like she had been intending to before her run in with Kevin. Naomie would need her and maybe she could come up with some way for them to break Kevin out of his stupor.
The roses.
The thought occurred to her so suddenly she missed her light and narrowly missed an accident. Her chest pounded and her head felt too tight.
"If I bring him roses, then he'll be free." She turned toward Foolin' Blooms. It was closer than the Marta's where she'd bought Naomie's roses. When she pulled into the parking lot at Foolin' Blooms, hers was the only car. A bright blue moped sat at the end of the lot closest to the building. Getting out of the car, she turned and her twin stood between her and the door. He stood tall and she could see the suggestion of a circlet at his brow. Marie set her jaw. Her family needed her. This would just have to wait.
Unafraid she went to go around him.
Wait. The ghost held his hands out to her as if he expected her to put her hands in his. Marie paused then continued on to the door.
"I will not let you take them from me," she said by way of a parting shot. The shop door banged shut. In the cool but still bright shop, Marie let herself relax. The shopkeeper came in from the back and said,
"Good afternoon. How can I help you?"
"I was hoping to buy a small bouquet of roses for a friend who’s taken sick." It wasn't a complete lie. Kevin was ill with something, just not a disease.
"Smallest bouquet of roses I sell is six. Is that small enough for your business?" the woman asked.
"That's certainly small enough. Thank you."
"If I may say so, roses are a bit strange for a friend who’s taken sick. Are you sure you wouldn't rather some daisies or carnations?"
"No, I really need the roses," Marie said, casting a glance out into the parking lot. Nothing sat under the window but her car alone in the lot. "How much do I owe you?"
"Twelve dollars after taxes. What kind of card will you be using?" The woman seemed rushed and with Marie already on edge, she felt it more acutely.
"Is something wrong?" Marie asked.
"No," the woman replied. "Everything is fine. I just want to finish this transaction with you and let you get on with your day."
Properly mollified, Marie put an American Express card down on the counter and then produced her ID from her wallet.
"The card says 'See ID'," she said pushing it across the counter.
"So it does," the shopkeeper said. "Thank you very much for making things easy for me." The woman looked up and stopped. Marie felt that strange chill tingle creeping up her arms again. She didn't have to look to know he stood behind her. She refused to turn around.
"Ma'am, if I could have my flowers now."
"Yes, yes," she said. "I'll be right back with them." She hurried away from the counter.
"I know you're there."
I'm not trying to conceal myself. This will not turn out as you intend.
"You've said that already. I don't want to hear it. You will give me my family back."
They are not your family. I am. Give up this fever dream and come back to me.
Suddenly, the walls melted away and she lay again in the bedroom of the castle. Around her, others had gathered. Someone dabbed her forehead with a cloth.
This is all your fever. A dream world you've constructed from air. Return to where you belong.
With a shake of her head, Marie cut through the vision and brought herself back to the flower shop. Her hands shivered and sweat gathered at her forehead. Was that truly what had happened, she was caught in a fever and these were just her dreams?
"No," she said.
"No," the shopkeeper said. "I'm sorry, are they the wrong color?" She was wrapping in paper a bouquet of six yellow roses.
"No, I'm sorry. I was talking to myself," Marie said. "Bad habit of an author."
"Oh." Then a pause. "OH! Marie Coren?" The woman recognized her now. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you. You're famous."
"For this town anyway."
"Could I have your autograph?"
"I have to sign the receipt, perhaps you'll just make it extra long so I can sign it to you?"
"Of course." The woman had colored all the way to her brown and gray hair. "I can't believe you're in my store."
They concluded their business and Marie paid for her flowers.
As she got out into the parking lot, her phone rang.
"Professor Coren."
"Marie, I need you at the hospital. Ray's in ICU. I need you here," the broken tone Naomie used cracked Marie's heart. They may not have chosen to get married, but Naomie loved Ray like a wife. Losing him might kill her.
"Naomie, I have to try and save Kevin first. He's been completely taken over."
"That was the other thing," Naomie said. "My roses are dying. They look a week old already, drooping and losing petals. I'm afraid they won't be of use much longer at this rate."
Marie stood in the parking lot and cursed.
"Language," said her best friend.
"You'll just have to forgive me. I can't be in two places at once. See if they have flowers in the hospital gift shop. If they don't, I'll be there with Kevin as soon as I can. You'll just need to hold on, Naomie. I promise I'm coming to get you."
Ending the call without a goodbye, Marie strode to the car and got in. First Kevin, then Naomie. And hopefully Ray would pull through. Her hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles hurt. First Kevin. Then Naomie. First her husband. Then her best friend.
She put the car in reverse and headed out of the lot.
The drive home was meditative. She listened to music on the radio she didn't really hear. The theory that she was caught in a fever dream seemed farfetched, but then again, so did the idea that some dark force was coming through to take over her world. The fever actually seemed more believable. Marie pulled into her driveway and looked at the house she shared with Kevin. The front curtains were still drawn. The front door stood open. Whatever had taken her husband over didn't understand doors.
Picking up the roses, she got out of the car. This had to work.
Holding the flowers before her like a shield, she entered the house. Everything appeared to be as she left it. Except Kevin wasn't there. She checked every room. No Kevin.
Fear and relief mingled in her breast. Fear something worse had befallen her beloved and relief she wouldn't have to fight him at the moment.
His wallet and keys were in a basket near the door, so wherever he had gone, he'd gone on foot. The urge to drive around looking for him came and went. She didn't need the two of them fighting on the street. Someone would misunderstand. That could land Kevin back in jail. No, she couldn't look for him, but she also couldn't just wait on him to come back. Naomie needed her. Closing her eyes, Marie tried to see where Kevin would have gone. He only needed to hold a rose and he would be free from the Dark King's influence. At least that seemed to be how it worked. Coming out of the house, she locked the door.
Getting back in the car, Marie decided she would do one loop of the neighborhood and if she saw him, try to fix him. If she didn't see him, then she would go on to Lady of Grace Medical Center. Nearest thing to a compromise she could come up with. The fear had overpowered the relief in her chest, showing her images of Kevin somewhere in a ditch where he'd been discarded by the forces playing with them all.
She turned the corner at the end of the block and scanned the road ahead. No walking figures. Where would he be going? That would give her a clue as to what route he would take. Was he looking for her? But he had seen her drive away. He wouldn't just try to follow her on foot. That made no sense.
Like any of this made conventional sense.
Turning again, she scanned the road ahead. A slow walking figure strolled halfway down the block going west toward
the hospital. Hope leapt up in her heart. Marie drove up and rolled down the passenger side window. It was indeed Kevin.
"Kevin," she said. Getting no response, she moved a few houses down and parked. Marie got out with the roses in her hands. "I brought you these." He didn't open his arms when she thrust the roses at him. They hit him squarely in the chest and he stopped mid-stride. The paper covered flowers fell down his chest to land at his feet, but he scooped them up quickly.
"Marie."
"Get in the car; we have to go to the hospital."
"No," he said. "You have to get as far from me as you can. He wants you back and he'll do anything to get you."
The same person who tried to convince her she was really just a person caught in a fever would do anything to get her back, but why?
"You can't go to Naomie either. He's cracked her defenses. She'll turn on you before long."
"What am I supposed to do?" Marie asked. She drew as close to Kevin as she dared, wanting to hold his hands but he clutched the bouquet to his chest like a life jacket. "Kevin, what do I do?"
"I don't know, but you best figure it out soon. He's winning and we're turning against you. Please, Marie," Kevin said. "Please go."
Between them, the roses were already showing signs of wilting, aging prematurely from the evil presence they sought to ward off. Marie moved back. Kevin freed one hand and reached for her.
"I love you. Remember that. Whatever happens, remember I've always loved you. Now go."
One of the roses turned black and shriveled before her eyes. Marie backed up further, putting one hand backward groping for the car. Six roses each one looking older and older as she watched. A weak glow appeared at Kevin's throat. Her hand made contact with the car. Numb, she felt along it until she reached the driver's side door. She got in as Kevin threw the bouquet down. It landed in the grass of someone's yard. Then he stomped on it. She started the car. He thrust his face against the passenger side window and made a face.
"Come with me," he said.
Marie put the car in drive and pulled away as fast as she could without hurting him. In her rearview, he capered like a monkey and ran after her. She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, then focused on driving. Where she was going, she had no idea, but she would get there soon.
Marie drove for an hour, looping back and forth across the city, her thoughts a chaotic jumble. He had taken everything from her. All that she held dear.
"It will not turn out as you intend," she said to herself sitting at a red light. To her right, she saw the sign for Mossy Oak Cemetery. She took the right and before long was driving along the tree lined avenue leading to the cemetery. Once she parked, she got out and breathed a sigh that turned into a sniffle. Almost unconsciously, her feet brought her to the foot of a grave she knew well. Cecilia Coren. Mother. Wife. Woman of Faith. The headstone attested to the birth and death of the woman to which Marie owed her life. It had been some months since she came out to decorate her mother's grave. The long dead flowers were already gone. Testament to the groundskeeper. She knelt down there and bowed her head.
"Momma, what do I do?"
Asking for help from the beyond was not out of her reach. An answer might well come from some supernatural force. It would be no stranger than the things she had already witnessed. Her phone rang. Naomie's face and number lit up the front screen. Marie looked at it and shoved the phone back in her pocket. Kevin said they were turning against her. That he would do anything to get her back. Stranger and stranger. Was she a princess caught in a fever or a writer caught in a web of darkness? Was it possible she could be both?
She knelt there for a few moments longer before pressing her hands down on the grass of the grave and making impressions. The grass felt warm and forgiving on her skin. Tears of fear drained out of her eyes and down the side of her face. Kevin. Naomie. Ray. She would lose all of them if she didn't come up with something. What did she know? The King was dismembered, but in order to defeat him, he had to be recreated because he couldn't be killed as long as he resided in each piece. Even destroying the pieces would not destroy him. Marie wiped her hands through the grass and let herself cry. Then she stopped surprised. One of her hands found a smooth rock banded with colors. Such a rock had no business in this cemetery. She picked it up and held its light weight. A trick of the light made it sparkle.
"I had a rock just like this when I was little," she said to the headstone. "It would cure any illness. Except yours."
Cecilia Coren died of cancer when Marie was twenty-two leaving her without a mother and her father without a wife. Michael Coren became something of a recluse after that, refusing company as often as he could get away with. In fact, he didn't even keep in touch much with his own daughter. He had attended her wedding, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd talked to him. Much like Kevin's parents, they didn't talk about Mike. She pocketed the stone.
"Good luck to come upon the things of the past."
"Miss Coren," a voice spoke from behind her.
She turned to see Stephen Smith there in a green coverall. The knees were dirty as if he'd been kneeling in something for some time.
"Hi, Stephen." It pleased Marie she remembered his name. "How are you?"
"I look as if I might be a sight better than you at the moment. Can I do something for you?"
The offer of help seemed so strange and sudden that Marie found herself wondering if he really could help. But that put him in line to possibly get hurt. She couldn't do that to him. He was such a nice old man.
"No, I just thought I would come out and see my mother. I guess the emotions got the better of me." A bold faced lie to a man nearly a stranger. Wiping her eyes, she forced a smile. "I'm not keeping you from something, am I?"
"No, not at all, but since you're here, I suppose I can show you the hole over by the oak. No one's come along to fill it in and I'm tempted to leave it alone."
"Oh right, that was a while ago. Why haven't you filled it?"
"Because I didn't make it and I'm waiting for whoever did to do something with it." He chuckled. "It's much more interesting as a hole than filled in, after all." Stephen led the way toward the center of the cemetery and the great old oak that stood there. They were in the shadow of it long before they reached the trunk. "They say they started burying folks here because the oak would protect them," Stephen said. "A bit of a silly superstition, but it made for a might pretty cemetery."
"Yes, it did."
They reached the trunk of the oak, deep in its shadow, and Stephen pointed to the hole next to one of the roots.
"There you have it. One deep dark tunnel going heaven only knows where at the foot of your favorite tree."
The hole was deep enough to hide the bottom from view. On impulse, Marie knelt down next to it and thrust her arm down the hole. Stephen put his hand on her shoulder to draw her out again, but she contacted something at the bottom. Her fingertips grazed it, so she leaned in harder trying to get a little further in.
"There's something down here," she said. Then she had it in her hand. Marie pulled it out. What came out was an orb, a little larger than a tennis ball, which glowed with an inner light. Marie wiped away trace dirt on it and simply marveled at it. "Was someone maybe trying to hide this?" she asked.
"I didn't know that was down there and I tell you I put my hand all the way to the bottom of that hole as well."
The orb sat in Marie's palm, its insides swirling under their own motion. A white orb with interior gray clouds turning at a good clip. Despite the strangeness of its providence, Marie felt comfortable with it. In fact, she felt some ownership of it as if it were put there for her. As if it were a piece of herself she had lost. Getting up off her knees, Marie looked at Stephen.
"Can we keep this our secret?"
"I suppose we can," he said. "I don't know who I'd tell anyway."
"Thank you. I appreciate it. Thank you for showing me this. I really needed this today."
"You're welcome.
"
She threw her arms around him a hug which he didn't return.
"Thank you," she said again. She hurried down the path toward the parking lot. If this was here, there were other places she could check for others. She set the orb in the passenger seat and headed for Sycamore Park.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
When she reached Sycamore Park, she parked at the north end. The lake shined placid in the daylight. She slipped the orb in her purse as she made ready to make the trek to the southern end where she was almost certain the next piece would be. It could be nowhere else if it was indeed in the park. At the southern end sat the gazebo where one rainy night Kevin asked her to be his wife. If anyone had her heart, he did.
She strolled down the park path because running would draw attention and she wasn't in the right attire to run anyway. Yet the desire to be there already burned under her skin. Every moment she took was one more moment her family suffered under the reign of an evil she created. Staying on the path, she found herself at the gazebo a half hour later.
If someone had asked her, the gazebo sat in an odd place. Nothing else stood near it.
But it was far enough away from the trees that it offered an unobstructed view of the sky. She and Kevin had climbed it on occasion to lay back and look at the stars. That had been their plan the night it whipped into a rain so heavy all they could do was take shelter. Soaking wet and laughing like mad, they sheltered under the gazebo as the sky let loose. Then he pulled the ring from his jacket pocket. It struck her as funny now, him streaming water and getting down on one knee with his hair plastered to his forehead. Yet in that moment, it couldn't have been more perfect. Her eyes were full of that ring and the future they would make together.
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