by Tom Mohan
Instead, it felt dark and somehow empty.
“This isn’t right,” Fallon said, her tone nervous. “None of this is right.” She continued down the long hall, her steps more cautious than before.
Liza had a sudden feeling of vertigo, as if the house had tilted. She’d felt something similar in a California earthquake once. She thought she heard faint laughter somewhere inside. It reminded her too much of what she’d heard at the lake the night before.
“Did you feel that?” she asked Fallon.
“I felt something. It was weird. It reminded me of how Conall and Marcas describe going into the Mist. Like a momentary shift in perception.”
Liza studied the dreariness of the house. “Doesn’t this sort of look like the light outside Brianna’s house?”
“What? Impossible. It’s just our imaginations getting to us. I’ve lived through some very strange times, but this whole thing has me jumpier than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
Except for the dreariness, the house was as neat and orderly as Liza expected it to be. The furnishings were sparse and nothing fancy, yet they fit the postcard aspect of the house. Fallon and Liza paused in a comfortable living room.
“I’m going to take a quick look in the back rooms. You wait here. He’d never forgive me if I brought a complete stranger into his bedroom when he’s naked or something.”
“And he’d be okay with you seeing him naked?”
Fallon smiled and shrugged before moving down the hallway to the back of the house. Liza looked around the room, then paced, uncomfortable being alone. She heard Fallon open one door, and then the sound of her footsteps moved on.
The silence in the house unnerved Liza. An uncomfortable thought surfaced: that Conall had been killing the Old Ones, and they had just seen him running from the house.
What if he had already killed Dadai Thomas?
Liza thought she heard another sound off to the left where she assumed the kitchen would be. She pushed open a swinging door and peered in. Unlike everything else about the old house, the kitchen sported new appliances. The stainless-steel refrigerator and stove seemed out of place among the varnished wood cabinets. The room looked well used, and Liza had the feeling that Dadai Thomas spent a lot of time there. A large window over the sink exposed a stunning view of the forest. Against one wall was a door that Liza suspected would open to a pantry, however, when she opened it, a flight of wooden steps disappeared into the darkness below.
Basements were rare in Los Angeles. But she’d seen enough horror movies to know that basements and attics were always the last place anyone should ever go alone.
She expected a musty smell to escape the open door, but instead she smelled cedar. She flipped a switch on the wall beside the door, and a light came on below.
Liza wondered what was taking Fallon so long. She considered going back and waiting for her but felt foolish. She wasn’t some teenager in a scary movie. She could do this.
She descended a few steps and paused, listening for anything that might seem out of place. The basement was silent. She continued down the steps, expecting them to creak beneath her, but they were as solid as the rest of the house.
At the bottom of the steps, she found a door ajar on her right. The scent of cedar grew stronger, and Liza walked into a room full of hand-made chests and other wooden items. To her left, a set of concrete steps led up to a pair of nearly horizontal doors to the outside. Several small, high-set windows around the room let in a moderate amount of light.
At the far end of the room hung a black curtain. From behind it, she heard what sounded like a dripping faucet. Seeing nothing else of interest, she moved to the curtains and pulled one side back. The area behind was too dark to see into. She drew the curtain wide.
Liza stumbled back as the scene behind the curtain unfolded in her mind. A cold sweat broke out over her body, and the room tilted at a crazy angle.
A naked old man hung on the wall, arms spread wide as though crucified. What looked like slimy links of sausages drooped from his abdomen to the floor, and it took Liza a moment to realize she was seeing his intestines. His dead eyes stared at her.
Liza spun and ran for the stairs. In her mind, she screamed, but she couldn’t suck in enough air to make a sound. The mysterious scratch on her leg throbbed.
She tripped over something and fell to her hands and knees. She crawled the rest of the way to the stairs and climbed them on all fours. At the top, she sprawled on the kitchen floor before scooting against the counter so that she could see the basement door.
A stair creaked below, then another. Why they had not made a sound under her weight, she didn’t know, but something was on them now, coming up. Coming for her. She could feel its intense desire to have her. It wanted all of her: mind, body, and soul.
The ragged rasp of her own breathing filled the room as the thing on the steps continued its slow climb toward her. Lights danced before her eyes, and she felt like she was going to pass out. She thought she heard her name, as though from a great distance, and then Fallon’s freckled face appeared inches from her own, blocking her sight of the basement door.
Panic welled up in Liza’s chest. She tried to see around Fallon, but the girl continued to block her view. She saw her own arm raise up, finger pointing at the door. Fallon turned in the direction she pointed, and the door slammed closed. Liza heard distant laughter as the presence began to fade. Her chest unlocked, and she imbibed air into her starved lungs. Tears streamed down her face as she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, fighting to hold on to some sense of reality.
“Liza, what’s wrong?” Fallon’s words crept into Liza’s mind, but she was not yet able to answer. Her blurred vision kept darting to the closed door, but whatever had been there was gone now. Not the body, though. She knew that had been real and was still down there.
“Liza, come on, girl. Get ahold of yourself. What’s wrong? What did you see?”
“He’s dead,” was all Liza managed to say.
“What?”
Liza stared at the door.
“Stay right there,” Fallon said. “Don’t move.” She stood and turned toward the door.
“No! It’s down there! Don’t go!”
“I’ll be okay. Just sit tight.”
Liza felt the familiar panic rising to her throat. “No, I’m not staying here by myself. I’m coming with you.”
Fallon looked worried. “Are you sure? That might not be a good idea.”
“I can’t stay here by myself.”
Fallon nodded. “Stay behind me.”
The two women made their way down the stairs and into the wood-scented room. Liza could already smell the blood over the cedar.
“Over there.” She pointed toward the curtains. They were closed again. Liza knew she hadn’t done that.
Fallon drew aside the curtains. “Oh my god. Dadai Thomas.”
Liza kept her eyes on Fallon’s back, having no desire to see the old man’s body again. Fallon stepped toward the body, and Liza grabbed her arm.
“What are you doing?”
“I need a closer look, that’s all.”
“Why? We need to get the police.”
Fallon turned to Liza and put her hands on Liza’s shoulders. Her green eyes bored into Liza’s own. “You forget, I am not all I seem. None of this is. We will get the sheriff, but first I have to get a feel for what happened.”
Liza looked everywhere except at the body crucified on the wall. After a few moments, Fallon said, “What’s this?”
“What’s what?” Liza couldn’t help her curiosity.
“This pendant around his neck. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It looks old-world, but I’ve never seen it.”
Liza looked up at the ceiling and then brought her gaze down toward the dead man’s neck, carefully avoiding his eyes. The pendant hung halfway down his chest, and Liza’s heart skipped a beat as she looked upon it
. “I’ve seen that before.”
Fallon turned toward her. “Really? Where?”
Liza pulled her own pendant from beneath her blouse. “Right here.”
Liza sat on the ground under a large oak tree. The flash of police lights and people in uniform scurrying around were stark contrasts to the tranquil setting she’d arrived in. That word again—contrast. Nothing was as it seemed. Everything was beautiful and dangerous. Tranquil and chaotic. Peaceful and deadly.
During her brief stay in Halden’s Mill, already two men had been murdered and, somehow, she was involved. A young officer stood nearby, doing everything in his power to not look her way while all the time keeping an eye on her.
That she had an officer ensuring she didn’t run off was only proof that Chief Murphy suspected her of something.
Could he really think she’d killed the old men? No, he had Conall pegged for that. At least one of them had been murdered before she arrived in town. She could prove that if necessary. And what of Marcas and Conall? Neither of them had returned to the house.
Liza didn’t know what to think of Marcas. In LA, he’d seemed so relaxed and in control, much like his father, but here he was like a madman trying to hold himself together. Now, he almost seemed to be avoiding her.
She knew he was worried about his brother, and she struggled to be understanding, but she couldn’t help feeling like he had been the one to get her into this and now he was never around. Again, she thought she might pack her things and go home—if she didn’t end up in jail. Being the lone outsider made her nervous.
The sound of approaching voices drew Liza’s attention to the side of the house, where Chief Murphy and Fallon were approaching. They were speaking too low for her to catch their words, but Fallon’s animated gestures gave the impression that she wasn’t happy.
Chief Murphy motioned for her to wait where she was. Fallon opened her mouth to say something else, but the chief raised a finger in warning, and she closed it. Liza marveled that she gave in to him so easily. She guessed people in small towns had more respect for the law than what she was used to in the city.
Liza stood as the officer approached. She tried to hide her nervousness but knew he would see right through her act. She still didn’t understand the dynamics of the people of Halden’s Mill, but she knew that this man was not one to underestimate.
“Miss McCarthy,” he said in way of greeting.
Liza nodded. “Chief Murphy.” She wrung her hands before shoving them into the pockets of her jeans.
“No need to be nervous. I don’t bite.”
“I’m not nervous. Well, yes, I am, but not about you. It’s just…you know, all this.” She nodded toward the house.
“All this, as you put it, is the third murder this week in a town that hasn’t seen a murder in over a decade. Does that seem strange to you, Miss McCarthy? It seems strange to me.”
Liza wasn’t sure if he was expecting an answer. She didn’t give one.
“We get quite a few strangers in the Mill. You probably wouldn’t guess that, us being such a remote town. Do you know why we get so many strangers?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “They’re drawn here. Drawn by an evil that you couldn’t possibly imagine.” His eyes locked on hers. “Or could you, Miss McCarthy?”
The chief looked calm and relaxed, but his voice held an edge that threatened to cut if she answered wrong. Liza closed her eyes for a moment, struggling to gather her thoughts. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but I had never heard of Halden’s Mill until Brianna Finn called me in Los Angeles after the first murder. I still don’t understand why I’m here.”
He nodded, whether in agreement or simple acknowledgement, she wasn’t sure. “Fallon said the same thing. The question is, why did Brianna call you?”
Liza shrugged. “You would have to ask her.”
“I’m asking you.”
“I don’t know! Why does everyone keep asking me that? I met Marcas in a coffee shop in Los Angeles, and we dated for about a month. I thought we got along well together. I thought I meant something to him, but he just took off and obviously I was wrong.” Liza pressed her lips together. She hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t even realized herself how hurt she was.
She turned away, not wanting to cry in front of this man. She didn’t want to cry anymore at all.
“When did you last see Marcas?” Murphy’s voice was softer.
Liza paused. She and Fallon had agreed not to tell the police about Conall. Liza wasn’t so sure that was the best idea. “Earlier today,” she said. That was the truth, at least.
He gave no indication whether or not he believed her. “Tell me what happened here. What really happened—not whatever Fallon told you to say.” He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong. Fallon would never do anything to hinder this case, but the Finns have their own way of doing things. I put up with some of it because of who they are.” His voice hardened. “You, Miss McCarthy, are not a Finn.”
Liza got the message. She told him everything, beginning with Fallon and her entering the house and ending with Fallon finding her on the kitchen floor. The pendant was another thing they’d agreed not to share yet. Through her entire story, the police chief stood with his arms crossed, making no comment and taking no notes.
“You and Fallon are like two peas in a pod,” he said after she finished. “That worries me. Fallon’s a good girl but wild. She thinks she’s special when it comes to following the rules. One day that’s gonna bite her, if you get my meaning.”
Liza tried to hold his gaze but finally looked away.
“I know this sounds cliché, especially to a city girl like you, but don’t leave town. If something spooks you, come to me with it, but don’t be taking off. We may look like a rinky-dink police force, but my reach is long. Take off, and I’ll haul your ass right back here. We clear on that?”
Liza nodded. He gave her one more hard look before turning and stalking back to the house. Liza waited as Fallon approached. She was talking on her cell phone. She ended the conversation and shoved the phone in her back pocket.
“We have to get to Brianna’s. She says something’s not right around her house, but it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with Tír na nÓg or the fae, so she can’t really tell what it is.”
Liza nodded. “That cop doesn’t like me much.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s just a grumpy-pants sometimes. Comes with the job. Jim’s a good guy when you get to know him.”
“I hope I don’t get to know him too well.” Liza poked her friend. “He sure has the hots for you, though.”
Fallon’s light mood turned dark. “Jim’s a great guy, just not the right one.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Never mind. Let’s get to Bri and see what’s up.”
The two women drove Marcas’s car the short distance to Halden’s Mill. Fallon assured Liza that Marcas would be okay with that. The town seemed to have come alive. “I haven’t seen this many people outside since I’ve been here,” Liza said.
Fallon looked around. “The place does seem to be hopping, doesn’t it? Is there a party I wasn’t invited to? No, wait, that couldn’t happen. Everyone invites me to their parties.”
Liza noticed a few of the townspeople stare at the car as it passed, as though they were seeing it for the first time. Or maybe they were just used to seeing Marcas driving it.
“Creepy,” Fallon muttered.
“You feel it, too?”
“Yeah.”
Fallon drove across town to Brianna’s house and pulled into the driveway. Across the street, a couple stood in the shade of a maple tree, gawking at them. Fallon climbed out of the car and yelled, “Hey there, Jesse, Linda. What’s up?”
“Hey Fallon,” the man Liza assumed to be Jesse answered. “Has Brianna been sick or something? We haven’t seen her out of her house in a long time.”
“I can’t remember the last time I saw her in town,” Linda added.
&
nbsp; “She’s fine,” Fallon answered. “You know Bri, likes to hide with her books and crochet. She’s turning into quite the old maid.” She pulled Liza toward the house. “You guys take care. Nice talking to you.” As they climbed the steps of the front porch, Liza heard her mutter, “This isn’t good.”
The two women barged into Brianna’s house which, Liza realized, seemed to be always unlocked.
“I heard what you said out there, Fallon,” Brianna said. “I am not an old maid.”
Fallon laughed. “It was the first thing that popped into my head.”
“You were talking to Linda and Jesse?”
“Yeah. They’re concerned that they haven’t seen you around town lately. They shouldn’t have that thought. Shouldn’t even notice.”
“With three of the seven Old Ones now dead, their influence on the town is weakening. We will have to be very careful from now on, or people will begin to notice that some of the things we do are rather odd.”
Liza tried to keep up with the two women. “You told me earlier that the Old Ones surround the town and use some kind of magic so people see you as normal, right?”
“That’s right,” Fallon said.
“And fewer Old Ones means…?”
“Less protection,” Brianna finished. “Four Old Ones cannot protect us and keep an eye on who approaches the town. It isn’t enough.”
“So, what happens now?” Liza asked. “What do we do?”
Brianna shrugged. “I don’t know. This has never happened before. We need to get Mom and Dad together with the remaining Old Ones. They have the most knowledge and experience. Unfortunately, with only four Old Ones left, they have to spread out and stay in place. When all seven of them were alive, any two could move about the town while the others held the perimeter. They can’t do that with only four.”
“What if any more Old Ones are murdered?”
Brianna looked at Liza, her deep brown eyes showing the fear that Liza felt growing within herself. “That, dear Liza, would be disastrous.”