“It’s for a new website we’re hoping to start,” Nathanial said. “Local folklore and superstition.”
Emma shot him a grateful look.
“Huh.” Her gaze dropped to the bruise on Emma’s cheek.
“Once they were lured into the cave,” Emma continued, “what then? What ritual would be used to seal them in? The tribe no longer exists. Can any ritual be used?”
“Ritual boils down to intent. Prayer, meditation, those are all part of ritual. Ordering the unpredictable into something more predictable. Can any ritual be used in this case? I suppose…hypothetically.”
“We’d need to find the charm first,” Nathanial said to Emma.
Professor Judy sat back in her chair. “What is your website called?”
“Um,” Nathanial paused. “We haven’t thought of a name yet.”
“When you do, drop me an email.” A small smile touched her lips. “I’m always interested in reading folklore.”
“We will,” Nathanial said. “Thank you for meeting with us.”
“Not a problem.” She gave them a wave as they left.
Once they were in Nathanial’s truck, Emma let out a troubled sigh. “So I sing to Thim to lure him into the cave, and then what? Show him the mirror to stop him from shredding me into little pieces?” She stared out the front window. “Itu’s weakness must be his eyes. I think he carries them in a pouch around his neck. Which means I’d have to get close enough to grab it. What then? I don’t think I can outrun him.”
“I don’t like either idea,” Nathanial said. “It’s not safe, Emma.”
“If I don’t do this, I’ll have to tell my dad the truth,” Emma argued. “My dad is a very practical man. He’s going to want to check the island out for himself. If he even believes me.”
“We can’t let him do that.”
“We can’t let him sell Sownipok either. Especially now that we know the history.” Emma fitfully ran her hands through her hair. “And you heard Professor Judy. The connection between both demons and myself will be there until they’re sent back to where ever they came from. Or at the very least, sealed in the cave.”
“We still have Le Claire’s relative to meet with,” Nathanial said. “Maybe she’ll have some more information.”
“Maybe.”
A trace of worry lined his brow. “A replacement phone for you first, though, right?”
“Right.” Emma put on her best smile. I need to go back to the island. There’s no other way…and I just need to.
* * *
Throngs of shoppers crowded the plaza as they walked to the phone kiosk. Emma quickly picked out a phone and filled out the paperwork.
“Should we have lunch here?” Nathanial’s gaze darted across the plethora of people.
“It’s really crowded.” Emma impulsively grabbed his hand. “Let’s grab a pizza and take it to the beach.”
“That sounds great,” he said, looking relieved. “I’ve never tried pizza.”
“You’ve never tried pizza,” Emma repeated in disbelief.
“Nope.”
“Have you been living under a rock?”
“I’ve been living on a boat,” he replied with a grin. “Almost as bad.”
“There’s a pizza place in the food court. I’m warning you, though. I like weird things on my pizza.”
“Such as?”
“Pineapple and shrimp and artichoke hearts…” she half-teased.
“I can live with that.”
“Really?”
“Really. Sounds delicious.”
It was only when he gave her hand a squeeze that she realized she was still holding his.
* * *
Nathanial parked along a stretch of deserted beach. The sky was a cloudless, iridescent blue. Seagulls floated on the ocean breeze, their wings tipped with golden sunlight.
They sat on the hood of his truck and ate lunch. They talked about everything and nothing. Nathanial gave pizza two thumbs-up and declared it a new favorite, next to one of Gideon’s specials.
“I’m glad you approve,” Emma said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who likes my weird pizza toppings. Not even Paisley and she likes almost everything.” She closed the pizza box. “Speaking of, I need to give her a quick call.”
“Okay. I’ll throw this away.” He took the cardboard box from her.
Nathanial walked across the deserted beach’s parking lot. Stop staring. Emma tore her gaze away and pulled out her new cell phone. The waves crashed against the beach. A brief flash of the shores of Sownipok appeared in her mind’s eye. The vision caused a surge of anxiety and she shook it off. She dialed Paisley’s number and it went straight to her mailbox. Not bothering to leave another message, she dialed the Atomic Unicorn instead.
“Atomic.”
“Hey, Ash. I can’t get a hold of Paisley, is she there?”
“Hey, Emma! She was here for about two seconds. I finished the spot painting before we even opened this morning so she wouldn’t freak. She’s been running around like a loon. I think she was on her way to the caterers.”
“Did you tell her I was back?”
“Shoot, I totally forget. Sorry,” Ash replied. “We’re all running on fumes here. No worries about helping out, though. We’re ready to rock and roll.”
“I’ll see you on Sunday then.” She switched off her phone just as Nathanial joined her. “Ash says they have it under control.”
“Do you want to go for a walk down the beach?” Nathanial asked. “We still have a couple hours.”
“I’d love to,” Emma said.
They walked shoulder to shoulder along the shoreline. It was comfortable being with Nathanial, Emma reflected. Kind of like they belonged together. Don’t get used to it, her inner voice chastised. He’s not sticking around or anything.
“How long have you known Paisley?” Nathanial asked.
“Since kindergarten. She walked up to me first day of school, and said, ‘Hi, my name is Paisley. You look like a fairy princess. Wanna be best friends?’”
“That’s kind of sweet.”
“It would have been, if I hadn’t thrown up all over her.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did.” Emma joined in on his laughter. “I was a little nervous the first day of school, but she never held it against me.”
“A true friend.”
“To the bitter end. How about you?” Emma asked. “How did you meet the friend you’re staying with?”
“School, like yourself.” Nathanial looked down, a small smile playing about his lips. “Jason used to get in trouble with the teacher. He’d toss notes at the girls, and I’d get blamed for it. One day, I told him to knock it off. I was tired of getting detention. He told me to take a flying leap. We fought. I gave him a black eye, and that was that. Best friends.”
“Makes perfect sense.”
“It’s nice to catch up when we do get together. He keeps telling me I should move back to the city and get my degree.”
“And?”
“I had a scholarship before my parents died. My mom encouraged me to apply, and I actually got the thing.” Nathanial gazed across the ocean, his brow furrowed. “I wanted to go into marine biology. I read every text book I can get my hands on. It was kind of nice to be in the university today. I felt…I don’t know.”
“You wouldn’t have to live in the city. You could commute from one of the smaller towns.”
“I could.” He smiled, his amber-eyed gaze connecting with hers. “Thanks, Emma.”
“For what?”
“For giving me something to think about.”
Emma’s thoughts went in a dozen different directions with his statement. “I’ll race you to that tree up there.”
A boyish grin lit his face. “You’re on.”
Their laughter echoed across the waves.
* * *
The setting sun cast a golden glow across the trees. Emma watched the scenery race by as they drove alo
ng the highway. They’d spent a wonderful day together, she reflected. It had gone by fast. At one point, Nathanial admitted he’d never realized how beautiful the city was. The fact that he gazed into her eyes when he said it was a coincidence, she told herself. Her heart had done a little flutter all the same.
“You told her the same thing we told the professor, that we were doing research for an article?”
“I told her we were researching the history of coastal islands, and her family’s name came up,” Nathanial said. “I didn’t say anything about a website. What should we call it?”
“Demons-R-Us.” The sound of Nathanial’s laughter broke the tension of their task at hand, and she felt herself relax. “I’ll try to look scholarly. I’m not sure Professor Judy believed us.”
“You look beautiful.” He paused. “Very…scholarly.”
Emma smoothed the hem of her sweater. “Thank you.”
They pulled up to a neat-looking house nestled in a small coastal community. After parking his truck, Nathanial hopped out and opened Emma’s door before she could unbuckle her seatbelt.
“We made good time with that shortcut you suggested,” he remarked.
“See! Traffic’s not always bad. You just have to know your way around.”
“Wish I would have known you last time I made a trip into the city,” Nathanial said as they headed up the walkway. “It would have made my stay more enjoyable.”
Emma’s stuttered reply was cut short as the front door was opened by a woman in her thirties. Casually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, she gave them a warm smile.
“Nathanial Dumont?” The woman held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You must be Emma. What happened to your face?”
“Um…I had an accident.”
“Crazy drivers out there.” She shook her head. “I’m Christine. Come on in.”
They were led into a comfortable-looking living room. A couch, draped with a red and green woven blanket, sat in front of a stone fireplace. Several books were stacked on an overstuffed chair. A small computer desk was tucked in the corner.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Christine said. “Excuse the mess. I was catching up on some work.” She gathered the books and shut the computer off. “Would you like some coffee? I just made some.”
“No, thank you,” they both said in unison.
“So, you said you were writing an article. Would this be for the newspaper or…?”
“Our website,” Nathanial said without skipping a beat. “We’re starting one on local history and folklore. We haven’t thought of a name for it yet.”
Christine gestured to the couch and settled in one of the chairs. “I don’t know much about Sownipok’s history other than our family owned it for a while. You probably know more than I do. And I don’t know anything about folklore of the area.”
“Mostly, we needed some information on the island’s history,” Nathanial assured her. “We can add the folklore in later.”
“The records at the library said Ancil le Claire bought it in 1875,” Emma added. “Do you know why? It seems quite remote.”
“I have no idea. Rumor has it he was a little eccentric. He built a house on the island and moved his family out there. No reason I can think of. Maybe he wanted to get away from it all.”
“We also read that there was a fire,” Emma said, “and that Ancil was committed soon after.”
“He lost his whole family, poor man. Such a tragedy.” Christine shook her head. “It would be enough to drive anyone crazy.”
“Do you know what Ancil was doing when the fire happened?” Emma asked.
“He didn’t set the fire, if that’s what you’re thinking. He was eccentric, not crazy. Well, before the accident, that is.”
“I was just curious.” She tried to appear nonchalant. “The records mention he was away when it happened. Looking for a buyer for something.”
“Oh, my goodness, that thing. I think he intended to sell it at first—” Christine stopped to explain herself. “Ancil kept diaries of his business transactions. I have them in the basement. He’d write about day-to-day things too. After the fire, he continued to keep a diary at the sanatorium. He was obsessed with a mirror he found on the island.”
“A mirror.” Emma’s heart raced. “Do you still have it?”
“It’s in the basement somewhere.”
“Would you mind if we looked at it?” Nathanial asked. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all. I know which box the diaries are in,” she replied. “I’m not sure about the mirror.”
Christine led them to the basement. She switched on the light and went down the stairs. Old furniture and toys scattered the area. A single bulb cast long shadows across the walls.
Pulling several boxes aside, she dragged one into the light and opened it.
“Someday I’m going to go through this stuff and have a huge yard sale.” Rummaging through various papers, she pulled out a small black book. “This was the last diary he wrote in before he was committed. Careful of the pages.” She handed it to Nathanial. Pulling another larger book out, she handed it to Emma. “And this was the one he kept after he was committed. I couldn’t even finish reading it. The man was clearly distraught over the loss of his family.”
The pages were thin and brittle and filled with lines of faded ink. After several moments, Emma realized why she couldn’t read it. “It’s in French. I don’t speak French.”
“I do,” Nathanial said.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” Emma remarked.
A smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Would you mind if we took some time to look though these? History buffs, you know.”
“No, not at all,” she said. “That’s the phone. I’ll be right back.”
Emma waited until Christine left. “What does yours say?”
Musing through the last few pages, he stopped at one and read, “Anne-Marie claims to hear crying at night. She says it’s coming from under the rocks beside our home where she found a mirror. I tell her we are the only ones here, and she must be imagining it. She wishes to keep the mirror as a plaything, but I’m going to take it to Phillipe in the morning. It looks to be made of polished obsidian. I think we could get a good price for it.”
“That must be it,” Emma said.
“Solicitors,” Christine said, coming back down the stairs. “They drive me insane. Did you find anything helpful?”
“He mentions something about a mirror made of obsidian,” Emma said.
“That’s the one,” Christine said. “He wrote pages and pages about it, poor man. He felt he needed to take it back to the island, for some reason. Well, you can imagine how that went over with his doctors at the sanatorium.”
“May we look at it?” Emma asked. “From a historical point of view, it sounds really interesting.”
“My sister packed all this stuff, so I’m not sure which box it’s in.” She surveyed the basement. “You know what? It might be in that one.” She opened one of the smaller boxes and rummaged through it, talking to herself.
Nathanial nudged Emma and read in a low voice, “Anne-Marie says she saw a pale man in the woods last night. He stood outside her window. She said she hid under her blankets, but he wouldn’t go away. The poor child is exhausted and will probably be asleep when I return from the mainland.”
“Oh, my god,” Emma whispered.
Nathanial took the larger diary from her and turned to the first page. “The days are full of nothing, but then, my life is nothing. Phillipe visits, but chooses not to hear my pleas. My doctors tell me I am consumed by my grief. The mirror must be returned to the mouth of the cave. The local tribe warned me of the cursed ones buried on the island. Asleep but not dead. I dismissed it as nonsense at the time, but now, I have seen them. They are demons from another place. A dark place. I wish Phillipe had left me to die. I blame myself for everything.” Nathanial looked up at Emma, his face serious.
“He
re it is!” Christine exclaimed. “You’re welcome to take the thing—”
Christine held up a small round object about six inches in diameter. Made of highly polished obsidian, it gleamed like glass. The mirror caught the light overhead, refracting it across Emma’s face. The air was suddenly sucked from her lungs and a grating sound filled her mind like rock on rock. Her vision tunneled, and she felt Nathanial catch her. Everything went black.
Something small fell onto the ground and the ringing overhead stopped. The last slivers of light disappeared as the final rock was laid into place. Entombed, the silence was deafening. Scuffling sounded from the corner, followed by the first wails of fury and dismay. The wails were followed by screaming. She heard murmuring from above. A chant. Then suddenly…everything was silent.
“Emma?” Nathanial’s voice weeded its way into her consciousness.
She lay on Christine’s living room couch. Her head throbbed and she felt nauseated. A tear slid down her cheek. Nathanial leaned over her and gently wiped it away. You’re so handsome, she thought, gazing up into his face. Please don’t let me be sick all over you.
Christine looked over Nathanial’s shoulder, her face etched with concern. “I’ll get her a glass of water.”
“Take it easy.” He traced his fingers along her hairline. “You were out for about ten minutes. I was ready to take you to the hospital. What happened?”
“I was in the cave. I saw the rocks being placed over the entrance.” Emma blinked back tears. “Itu and Thim were screaming. And then they weren’t. It was like the air had been sucked from the cave.”
Nathanial cursed under his breath. “I’m not sure about this, Emma. Maybe we should—”
“Here you go.” Christine came back in with a glass.
Emma sat up. “Thank you.”
“How long ago was your accident?” Christine asked.
“Um…a couple days.”
“You should probably follow up with a doctor.”
Emma nodded, averting her eyes.
“Did you still want the mirror for your collection?” Christine asked Nathanial. “I’ve never known anyone to collect mirrors.”
“Would you mind? I’ll pay you for it.”
The Island Page 17