River of Bones

by Angela J. Townsend

  “We can cover more ground if we split up,” Wolf said. “You take the ones on your left, they look more stable, and I’ll search the ruined ones. Yell if you need me.”

  I clutched my sore throat. “Not sure if yelling is something I can do.”

  Wolf winched. “Sorry, I forgot about that. Just try to be as careful as you can. I’ll hurry and meet up with you soon.”

  Wolf dashed off and entered a cabin to our right. I crept to the first cabin in the opposite direction. The wind picked up again, blowing at my back as if trying to force me inside. Just as I reached for the wooden door handle, a shutter flew open, banging against the side of the shack. A scream stuck in my throat. Heart pounding, I wrenched the door open. It fell, useless, from its old hinges and crashed to the ground. The flashlight cast a dim light inside, revealing old push mowers, hedge clippers and a rusty stove with weeds poking out of its wood-fed burners. Mounds of rusty-red farm machinery lurked in the rear.

  If the mirror was in there, it’d take years to find it with all the junk piled inside. I studied the small building. The logs were rough hewn with huge gaps between them. Even the ravages of time couldn’t disguise the poorly made structure—definitely not the type of cabin Sabine would have had.

  I hustled to the next cabin and peered inside a window. It was empty, except for a broken three-legged table lying on its side, growing into the ground. I scanned the area ahead and spotted a single cabin, sitting off by itself. The structure was much larger than the others, straddling a small hill, overlooking the area. It appeared standoffish, perhaps like Sabine herself—left alone to rot into the marshy earth.

  I hobbled over the rough ground to the cabin, with the flashlight bobbing back and forth. Tree roots along the path tangled around my ankles like knotted fingers trying to stop me. I ran the light across the massive hardwood door and fancy brass doorknob, just like the doors in the main house. In the center, something was carved deep into the wood. I waved the light over it to get a better look. Crosses and other religious figures were etched across the face of the door. Maybe the other slaves etched these into the door like some kind of hex, hoping to stop her spirit from returning after her death. I saw something that looked like a giant S. My heart skipped.

  This was it.

  It had to be.

  I gripped the brass handle and pulled. Bats of all shapes and sizes exploded from the shadowy interior, flapping and shrieking as they fled into the night. I covered my head and cowered behind the door, listening for the snap of wings to stop before gathering the courage to step inside.

  I stood in the doorway and swept the light along the ceiling and walls. Mushrooms sprouted between the cracks in the logs, their domed tops glowing in the moonlight. A crumbling fireplace hugged a far wall, its gaping mouth smothered in cobwebs. On the opposite side, shelves covered in layers of dust held moldy jars and broken crockery filled with herbs and gross pickled looking things.

  Holding my breath, I took a step inside with the flashlight out in front of me like a sword. Something hard and crunchy snapped beneath my feet. Bird bones. Hundreds of tiny skeletons carpeted the floor. Creeping across the carcasses, I shuddered as they crushed under my shoes.

  Hulked in a dark corner, protected from the weather, stood a roll-top desk.

  I frowned at it. It seemed so out of place in a slave shack. I gripped two brass knobs and gently rolled up the top. A fancy scalloped border framed ten cubbyholes inside. The center of eight drawers bore the name, “Whiskey Rose,” in bold letters.

  Tingling with anticipation, I pulled open the drawers. One by one. My heart sank. Empty. I felt along the edges for hidden compartments. Nothing.

  The flashlight winked, then faded out. A faint singing wove through the room. Rigid with fear, I shook the light. It flickered and came back on. Sabine’s evil presence seemed to fill every inch of the small room. My mind raced. I should have gotten Wolf to come with me, but I didn’t want to waste precious time.

  I brushed a beam of light around the walls. Behind a thick layer of dust, speckled with mold, I spotted an oval framed portrait. I pulled the painting from the crumbled wallpaper and wiped away the mildew. Piercing dark eyes stared up at me through a smear in the glass. Those hateful-glaring eyes stabbed all the way into my soul, and my legs shook as I studied the rest of the portrait. The woman’s ruby lips were pressed into a severe line and a green turban circled her head like a coiled snake.

  Clutching the frame with shaky hands, I felt a lump on the back side. I flipped the painting over. The bulge in the bottom center of the rotten parchment must have kept it from lying flush to the wall. I tore the paper open and sucked in a breath.

  The cool metal of a skeleton key grazed my fingertips. I ran my fingers over the ornate top and jerked it free. I turned the key over in my hand. What would have been important enough for Sabine to lock away? A mirror? I inspected the desk again. All the drawers hung open, empty, with no lock anywhere.

  I shined the light behind the desk. A glimmer of metal flashed. I yanked hard on the edge of the roll-top, swinging it to one side. Sweeping the light over the mildewed back, I spotted a small door cut into the wood with a tiny lock in the center. I moved the desk a few more inches and crouched down for a closer look.

  My hands trembled as I slipped the key into the lock and turned. The catch clicked several times before it finally released and the door sprang open. I flooded the opening with light and peered around thick cobwebs. Something bulky rested inside.

  I rolled up my sleeve, inhaled a deep breath and plunged my hand into the hole. Spider webs coated my fingertips. I jerked my hand back, shivering. Wiping away the nasty cobwebs, I gritted my teeth and stuck my hand back inside again. Crusty insects scraped against my skin. I continued to probe the cramped interior. Something stiff and rough with what felt like dried cord, brushed the center of my palm. I gripped an end of a rotten string and pulled. A burlap bag slid from the hole and into my hand.

  I tugged on the rotten string and opened the sack. A tea-colored parchment lay inside, rolled up with a faded red ribbon. Freeing it from the burlap bag, I untied the binding and gently unrolled the document. Bits of fragile paper crinkled and fluttered to the ground in tiny squares.

  Footsteps creaked behind me. A tremor of breath feathered the back of my neck. I froze, the hairs on my arm standing on end.

  “What did you find?”

  I whirled around, nearly jumping out of my skin.

  “Sorry,” Wolf said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He peered around me and waved his flashlight into the hole. “Cool! Is the mirror in there?”

  “No, but this was.” I showed him the parchment.

  Wolf leaned over my shoulder and read aloud. “Last Will and Testament of General Samuel Cobb. Wow, bet the town museum would love to have that.”

  I rolled the paper up and tucked it under my arm. “I’m sure the courthouse has an original. Anyhow, I was really hoping it was a map to the mirror, or some kind of clue.”

  “Are you kidding? Sabine knew where she put it. She wanted to keep it hidden, not point it out.”

  “You’re right. I’m not thinking straight. I just want to find the mirror, and be done with it. So far we’ve come up with nothing.” I chewed on my lower lip. “What if we never find it?”

  “Don’t even go there. We’ll find it, you have to stay positive.” Wolf examined the small interior with his light. “Now let’s think about it. For one, the mirror can’t be in water so that rules out the swamp. Second, it can’t be someplace where it might get broken.”

  “Or found,” I said. “Sabine would have been worried about the other slaves finding it, so I don’t think it’s here and...” My scalp tingled. “I got it!”

  “Got what?”

  “I know where it is! Come on.”

  We rushed out of the shack, waded through the weeds, and zigzagged around the tombstones to the truck.

  “Where do you think it is?” Wolf asked.

 
; I climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door. “The only place that makes sense and the only place it would’ve remained undisturbed, by orders of the general’s wife.”

  Wolf’s eyes flashed. “The ballroom! Why didn’t we think of that before?”

  I shrugged. “I just hope I’m right.”

  Wolf started the truck, and we headed for the house. Rain wept onto the windshield. He flicked on the wipers and headlights. The high beams cast a haunting glare across gray fog rising from the ground.

  “Can you turn on the cab light? I want to read the will.”

  Wolf flipped a switch and I studied the document in the yellow glow. The general named each of his children and his wife. At the end, he mentioned the cabin and swampland around it being given to Sabine and her gentleman friend…

  Wolfgang Bodine.

  A sweat broke out across my neck. I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath. My hands shook, as I told myself it couldn't be real. It was all some kind of sick joke.

  “Stop the truck!”

  Wolf slammed on the breaks. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who are you? Or what are you?” I snapped.

  Wolf put the truck in park. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know very well what I mean. Look.” I shoved the paper in his face. “I thought your mother named you after a composer.”

  Wolf frowned, his eyes scanning the document. He plowed a hand through his hair and slammed a fist into the steering wheel. “There’s something I have to tell you. But you have to promise not to freak out at me.”

  “Go on,” I said.

  “Remember when I told you I wanted your mom to contact the spirit world about my father?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That was only part of it,” Wolf said. He leaned toward me, his dark eyes staring into mine. “My great-great-great grandfather was a traveling magician. He’d heard about Sabine’s magical powers. But he thought it was just illusions and trickery. He had no clue it was black magic. He wanted to learn all he could from her. Legend says she fell deeply in love with him. But he only wanted her magical secrets. Scorned, she cursed all his male descendents. No one believes me, including my mom, but I know it was Sabine. Right before he died, he started having these weird dreams about her, and he started hearing this creepy humming song. I know my dad died because of her, I think she led him off course and caused his ship to go down.” Wolf’s voice deepened. “The same thing happened to grandfather shortly before he died. Everyone thought he was nuts but he kept saying he was hearing a woman’s voice singing to him, until one day he followed the voice into the swamp and was never seen again.” Wolf stared into my eyes, his features tight. “If I don’t help you break this curse, I’ll be her next victim. I’m the last of the male descendants.”

  “So, is that why you took the caretaking job?” I asked. “So you could have access to the property?”

  Wolf nodded. “But I had no clue about what I was doing so I went to Sassy. She told me if I could defeat Sabine by breaking the spell over the land, all other spells would be broken as well.”

  My stomach dropped. It had all been too good to be true. Wolf wasn’t hanging around because he liked me—he was hanging around because he had his own life to protect. I guess I couldn’t really blame him.

  “Please don’t be mad,” Wolf said. “I want you to know something. I’m not just doing this for me—I care about what happens to you and Benny.”

  I swallowed hard, choking back tears. Anger boiled inside me. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? Why the big secret?”

  “Because you already had enough worries. Your mom was gone, you had Benny to take care of, and you’ve been so sick. I didn’t want to make things worse. It’s my fault for not telling you. I’m sorry.”

  I stared into his dark eyes, confusion and anger twisting inside me. He’d been the only human in the whole world I thought I could trust. The one who stayed with me when others would have bailed. The one who took care of me, helped me with Benny. But would he really have helped us if his own life hadn’t been at stake?”

  “I know I should have told you and I want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what.” Wolf grabbed my hand, interlocking his thick fingers with mine, bonding me to him. “We’re in this together. No matter what the reasons are for us being together, I’m glad I got the chance to know you. To help you.”

  Every inch of me melted into his stable grasp. I couldn’t help but believe him. He didn’t have to help us. He could have tackled Sabine on his own, leaving me and Benny to fend for ourselves.

  Whatever his motives were, I needed him. I’d swallow down my feelings and keep focused. After this was all done—if we survived—I would have to see if there could be more between us.

  Wolf put the truck into drive, steering into the night, a cold silence thick between us. I squinted into the fog as we approached the house, once so grand and filled with life, now just a decaying shell. I couldn’t let go of Wolf’s hand. The joints of my fingers had frozen with fear and anticipation.

  He parked near the front porch. The night carried a chill that overwhelmed my fever, forcing my grasp from Wolf’s hand. I rubbed my arms and shivered.

  “Take this.” Wolf tossed me his sweatshirt.

  “Thanks.” I slipped it on, inhaling his now familiar woodsy scent and a hint of fabric softener.

  We hurried inside, clamoring up two flights to the room with the dead birds. Even though every bone and muscle ached, I felt a surge of anxious energy.

  Wolf pushed the door open. We stepped inside the moldering room. A wave of nausea curled into my gut and tightened my throat. The door slammed shut behind us. The lights flickered off and on. I reached for Wolf’s arm as a rattling came from beneath the carpet of bones.

  Wolf held me in an iron grip and aimed the flashlight to the floor. All at once the skeletal remains of the birds rose into the air, and hurled themselves at us like darts, screeching with unearthly cries. Talons raked across my head, winding into my hair, clawing and ripping at my tender flesh.

  “Run!” Wolf yelled. “I’ll hold them off.”

  I bolted to the door leading to the ballroom as the skeletal flock rained down. I glanced over my shoulder. Wolf tried to wave them off, blood dripping from his head. He ducked, fighting his way toward the ballroom door, but they swarmed over him, covering him like a blanket of bones and feathers. I whipped off the sweatshirt and came to his side, swinging it in the air, knocking them away. They darted back, time and time again, clacking their bony beaks, striking with outstretched talons, and pinning us with glowing red sockets, where eyes had once been. We scrambled through the doorway and slammed it shut.

  I switched on my flashlight and pointed it at Wolf.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the blood on his brow. “Is it bad?” he asked.

  I took a look and shook my head.

  Wolf jammed the handkerchief into this back pocket. “Good, let’s get going.”

  We climbed the steps to the dark ballroom. Wolf waved his flashlight around the room, the beam dancing over dusty objects. “I’ll search this side,” he said, pointing to his right, “while you take the other side and the fireplace.”

  “Deal.”

  I felt along the hearth, searching for loose bricks or a secret hidden spot. I stuck my head inside the gaping mouth and peered in, shining the light into all the dark corners.

  Wolf knocked on the walls, listening for hollow places. I searched the dining room table. Hidden beneath a layer of dust, I examined every plate, cup and saucer and looked underneath the placemats. Nothing.

  I slumped into one of the old chairs and scanned the room. My gaze fell on the cake resting between two tall candles. It looked so gross and petrified but it was the only thing I hadn’t searched. I picked up a tarnished fork and tapped the hard lump. It made a hollow thud. My breath hitched in my throat. It wasn’t a cake at all, but a pap
er decoration, made of wire and paste.

  I tore it apart. What lay inside made my heart leap.

  “Wolf, I found something!”

  He waved his flashlight in my direction. “Is it the mirror?”

  “No, it’s an envelope with a wax seal on the back.”

  He rushed to my side. I slipped my finger under a brittle edge, opened the tiny package and pulled out a fragile slip of paper.

  “What is it?” Wolf asked.

  I could barely make out the faded script which angled gracefully across the page. “I think it’s a child’s party game, like a treasure hunt or something and this is the first clue.”

  Wolf frowned. “Well, that’s not much help, is it?”

  “Wait a second. Let’s think about this. Sabine knew the children wouldn’t live to find the treasure and what a perfect way for her to hide a mirror, among a bunch of other shiny trinkets.”

  Wolf peered over my shoulder. “What does it say?”

  “My children, whom I hold so dear, here is your first clue to treasure near. Find the spinning doll, and you might find it all.”

  I thought for a moment. “It must be a toy in the nursery.”

  “No. It has to be something close—something in this room.”

  “I haven’t seen anything in here that even resembles a doll.” Before I could get the next sentence out I remembered something I’d seen near the fireplace. “There’s a long metal poker with a woman on the handle, near the hearth. Could that be it?”

  We raced to the fireplace. Wolf gripped the object and twisted the figurine until it came off in his hands.

  “There’s a piece of paper inside!” He pulled it out and read it aloud. “Bigger than a horseshoe, and full of splinters, too, is where you will find clue number two.” He smiled and pointed to the wood box. “That’s easy.”

  “Well, it was meant for children, so they couldn’t make it too hard.”