The Kingdom

Twenty-Six

A shiver ran up my spine at his stunned look. “What are you talking about? You know who I am.”

“It’s like seeing—”

“What?” Something inside me started to quake, and I tried to glance away, but the intensity of his gaze held me.

He searched my face. “The way you were staring up at the mountains just now…your expression…” He trailed off. “This is crazy.”

“What is? Please, just tell me.” But already I could feel myself withdrawing into my own head. For all my preoccupation with truth and destiny, I was terrified of what I might learn here, terrified of how it would change me. I sensed a connection to whatever waited for me on that mountain just as surely as I’d felt a suffocating tie to that hidden grave.

There was a reason I saw ghosts. It wasn’t happenstance, and it couldn’t be heredity because I was adopted. So what was I? Where was my place? Why, after all these years, had I been led here to Asher Falls?

He shook his head, as if trying to free himself of something unpleasant. “It was just one of those strange moments. Déjà vu or something.”

“Your reaction seemed more than déjà vu. You were genuinely upset.”

“No, not upset. Just…surprised.” He tried to laugh it off, but his voice sounded strained. “Sorry if I freaked you out. I’m seeing things, I guess. Like you did that day at the laurel bald, remember? You thought for a moment I was someone else.”

“I remember.”

“We concluded it was lack of sleep. The mind playing tricks.” He was trying very hard to convince himself. Who had he seen just now when he looked at me? What had he seen? “You called it something that day.”

“A waking dream,” I murmured.

“A waking dream. Yes, that’s exactly how it felt. Well.” He glanced at me. “That was interesting.”

“You’re not going to tell me about it?”

“No, I think we should just let it pass,” he said. “Moving on…”

But we both fell silent, as if entrapped by the heavy weight of our secrets. The shadows lengthened at the edge of the woods, and the sunlight on the steps was dappled now, filtered through the branches of the evergreens. I felt bone-weary from all the physical labor at the cemetery, and yet an odd restlessness gripped me.

Suddenly, I thought of that vision I’d had at the falls of the couple naked and entwined at the water’s edge as creatures looked on. As the very earth seemed to pulsate with dark, unspeakable passion… .

I shuddered violently.

“What’s wrong?”

My cheeks colored as I glanced away, but he leaned forward, taking my chin in his hand to gently turn me to face him. “I’m sorry if I upset you just now. I don’t even know why I said that.”

“It’s not that. I was thinking about something you said after dinner the other night when we were going through those pictures.” Not exactly what I’d been thinking about, but I could hardly tell him the truth. “You said there was a certain eccentricity about Luna and Bryn and Catrice. You called them witches. What did you mean by that?”

“It was just a joke, but there’s always been an air of mystery about them,” he said. “An element of mysticism. Somehow they’ve managed to thrive while the rest of the town languishes. But I suspect that’s more a matter of smart investments and good genetics than witchcraft. Despite the talk.”

I glanced at him. “What talk?”

“The usual small-town gossip mixed with mountain folklore.

“There’s an old rumor that the Daughters of our Valiant Heroes was once a coven.”

I glanced at him, startled. “I thought it was a historical society.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, it’s an old rumor.”

The breeze had a distinct chill now. “Why didn’t you say anything about these rumors when we were at the falls looking at the Drudenfuss?”

“You already seemed a little spooked. And it’s no big deal. A town like this breeds superstition and gossip, especially when it comes to those three women. They’ve always been close, always a little different and now that they’ve reached a certain age with no families to speak of—”

“What about Sidra?”

“Ah, yes. Sidra.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

He was silent for a moment. “Sidra is a bit of an enigma herself, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“She is different,” I agreed. “But I like her. I think she has an old soul. She seems much more mature than other girls her age.”

“Little wonder, given her condition. She was born with a severe heart defect. The doctors didn’t think she’d live past her twelfth birthday, but somehow she’s managed to defy the odds.”

I thought of the girl’s pale complexion and those guarded eyes. She looked fragile, but I’d always sensed an inner strength. Now I knew why. I also wondered if her condition had something to do with her ability to see ghosts. But that wouldn’t explain my situation. There was nothing wrong with my heart. I’d always been the picture of health.

“Where’s her father?” I asked.

“He died years ago. Suddenly, as I recall. I don’t remember too much about him except that he had money and he was a good deal older than Bryn.” Thane watched the water for a moment. “Why all the questions about Luna and her cohorts?”

“Is that how people around here refer to them? Luna and her cohorts?”

“Just a figure of speech. Anyway, why all the interest?”

I hesitated, still considering how much I should tell him. “Something happened earlier and I’ve been trying to figure out what it means. I saw Catrice in town and she asked for a ride home. Then she offered to give me a tour of her studio. She never said a word about anyone else being there, but Bryn and Luna were in another room. And then I saw Hugh coming up the path to the studio as I was leaving.”

“So?”

“Why didn’t she mention that the others were there? Why did Luna and Bryn stay out of sight? Don’t you find that odd?”

“I take it you do.”

“Very odd. I had the distinct impression that they had all gathered at the studio to…observe me.”

“To observe you,” he repeated. “That’s—”

“Disturbing. I know.”

“And maybe a little paranoid,” he suggested. His tone was light, but I had a feeling he meant it. I did sound paranoid.

“Why would they want to observe you?” he asked in a cautious tone, as though wanting to placate but not encourage me.

I hugged my knees tighter. “I don’t know. But it’s not my imagination. Something strange is happening to me here, Thane. I have this awful feeling…this premonition…” I looked past him to the mountains. “You must feel it, too,” I said in a half whisper. “It can’t just be me.”

He glanced away. “What do you think is happening to you?”

“I don’t know, but it has something to do with the flooding of Thorngate Cemetery. And Freya’s death. Maybe even Wayne’s attack and that hidden grave in the laurel bald. They’re all connected somehow. There’s a design here, some bigger scheme, and I know it sounds insane, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been brought here for a reason.”

“You were brought here for a reason,” he said. “To restore a cemetery.”

“But think of the circumstances.” A hint of desperation crept into my voice. If he hadn’t thought me paranoid before, he certainly would now. “The donation that brought me here was made anonymously. Why? And why restore Thorngate now after years and years of neglect? Why hire me when there are other restorers in the state with far more experience?”

“Your credentials are impressive,” he reasoned.

I shrugged.

“Why else do you think you were brought here?” he asked softly. “You’ve never been to Asher Falls before, have you? You don’t have family here.”

“I don’t know why. But there’s a tie. I know it.” The breeze blew a dead leaf against my leg, and it clung for a moment before tumbling away. “Remember that day at the falls when I told you I felt a vibration? It was strong, like the pulse of an electrical current, but you couldn’t feel it because it was coming from within. It’s like this place, this land…even the mountains are calling out to me, and something inside me is responding.”

An emotion I couldn’t name flashed across his face before he rose and put out his hand. “Let’s take a walk.”

Angus followed us down the stepping-stones, but he wouldn’t come out on the wooden walkway. Instead, he remained on solid ground, keeping watch while we strolled to the very end to gaze down into those murky depths.

As the sun slipped toward the treetops, the shade from the forest deepened the shoreline to black. I leaned over the railing, peering through the shadows and algae, straining to see the headstones and monuments of that watery graveyard. If I stared long enough, would I see Freya’s ghost float to the surface?

“Have you ever been down there?” I asked Thane. “To Thorngate, I mean. It seems like something an adventurous kid would want to see.”

“I did dive down there once,” he admitted. “I was maybe twelve or thirteen at the time.”

“What did it look like?”

“Visibility is pretty limited. There’s a lot of sediment and debris. I didn’t see any graves or headstones. No coffins or bones, either,” he said with a grin. “But there was a statue…an angel. It was tall and still upright and it seemed to appear out of nowhere right in front of me. There was just enough light shining down through the water that for a moment, she looked alive. It was…unnerving to say the least.”

“What did you do?”

“Surfaced and got the hell out of there.” The grin flashed again.

“You’ve never gone back down?”

“No, but not because of the angel.” He rested his arms on the railing and stared out across the calm water. “It seemed intrusive somehow. Disrespectful. Like I was disturbing their rest.” He slanted a glance. “Feel free to call me crazy.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m the woman who feels phantom vibrations, remember?”

I saw a smile in his eyes and something darker. Something that made me tremble in anticipation as he put his hand over mine on the railing. “About those vibrations. Maybe it’s not the land you’re responding to.”

I glanced away.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“Yes, because I think you’re somehow a part of this.”

“That’s ridiculous. There’s no grand design to all this, Amelia. There’s no such thing as destiny. What you feel is what you feel. You just have to trust it.”

I thought about the girl he’d wanted to marry—Harper—and wondered what she’d been like. Pell had said she was unstable. A danger to herself and to others.

Like Devlin’s family, she’d died in a terrible car crash. But her ghost hadn’t lingered. For whatever reason, she didn’t haunt Thane. I wondered if that was his doing or hers.

I could feel his warm gaze on me. Shakily I said, “This is hard for me.”

He nodded. “I understand. You still have issues with that detective. No one knows better than I do how hard it is to let go of memories. But the past is no place to live your life, and sometimes the best way to move on is to move on.”

“And if I’m not ready?”

“Then you’re not ready. I won’t push you. But I won’t go quietly away, either.”

“You won’t have to. Once the restoration is finished, I’ll be the one to go away.”

His eyes darkened as he stared down at me. “Charleston isn’t so far.”

Wasn’t it? At the moment, my beloved city—and my beloved Devlin—seemed a million miles from me. “Why me?” I asked softly.

He stroked a knuckle down my cheek. “Why not you?”

I closed my eyes on a shiver. “Ivy once told me that you would never choose me…an outsider.”

“She said that?” He sounded annoyed. “Ivy’s a troubled girl. I don’t think she has much family support. Her father is some high-powered attorney in Columbia and her mother is always traveling. Half the time, Ivy is left on her own. Poor kid’s starved for attention. That’s why I’ve tried to cut her some slack. But she knows nothing about my choices. Or anything else about me, for that matter.”

“But there is a caste system in this town. Sidra told me earlier that she’s not allowed to visit Tilly Pattershaw’s house because Tilly isn’t one of them.”

His hand dropped away, and I could sense his irritation. “She’s probably just parroting what she’s heard her mother say. Bryn’s an insufferable snob.”

“No. Catrice said something like that, too.” I glanced down at the blisters in my palms and thought of Tilly’s burned hands. “She said that Freya was always trying to fit in where she didn’t belong. I suppose that’s why she turned up in all those pictures. She wanted to be one of them.”

He sighed. “You do realize you’re sounding a little obsessed.”

“Yes.”

He watched me for a moment. “Why does this stuff matter to you so much? It’s ancient history.”

“You said the other day that you have a responsibility to find out who’s buried in that hidden grave because it’s located on Asher property. I feel a similar responsibility to Freya.”

“But why? You never even knew her. And she’s been dead for years.”

I thought of her ghost wavering at the end of the pier, right where we stood now, and I felt something well inside me, that deep sadness that wasn’t my own but had somehow become a part of me. “I don’t understand it myself, but I feel driven to find out what happened to her. To find out why no one will talk about her death.”

“That’s just the way it is around here. Folks tend to mind their own business.”

“Even when it comes to dog fighting and hidden graves,” I said bitterly.

“When it comes to anything.”

I stared down into those gloomy depths and envisioned Freya’s ghost. I could see her in my mind, dressed in her burial finery, hair blowing in the breeze. If I found out what happened to her, would she be able to rest? Would she leave me in peace?

Or would she come back at every twilight to feed on my warmth and energy so that she could sustain her presence in the world of the living?

Either way, I had to know.