The Kingdom (15 page)

“No one else was around, though. Not yesterday.”

“Just because you didn’t see anyone doesn’t mean you weren’t seen.”

I thought about the old man who had appeared in the cemetery on my first day. I hated to think of anyone watching me while I worked, but that man’s repulsive behavior had been so unnerving, the memory of him was a shiver up my spine. I lifted my gaze to the statues and for an instant—the way the sun hit them—the ethereal faces twisted into something ugly and sinister. Something…demonic. It was only my imagination, of course, but I saw that hideous man’s features—the pale eyes, the jutting cheekbones, the hawklike nose—superimposed on the faces of those angels.

I shook off the illusion and turned back to Thane. He was still staring down at me, and in that moment, I was very glad that he didn’t look like the Ashers.

“I don’t understand why they had to use Angus as bait,” I said. “Why go to the trouble of drugging my dog and taking him from my porch?”

“To get rid of the evidence,” Thane said. “You’ve been asking questions about dog fighting. That makes people jumpy.”

I paused. “Is that what happened to your face and hand? You asked too many questions?”

He said nothing as he glanced down at Angus.

“You found the kennel, didn’t you?” I asked softly.

The silence stretched, punctuated by the stillness of the day. It was strange how the quiet roused my drowsy senses, like a gentle hand waking someone from a deep sleep. I could still remember the peaceful feel of dappled sunlight on my face and the comforting fragrance of earth, ivy and moss, that fecund perfume so peculiar to old cemeteries. In the distance, draped in the ethereal blue haze of the pine forest, the ancient mountains beckoned.

A thorn pricked the idyllic setting, and I suddenly felt very frightened. Not of Thane. Not even of that bizarre man with the wagon. I was afraid of those mountains, fearful of something inside me that had responded to the siren call of those seductive peaks.

Don’t you understand? It’s not what’s out there you need to be a-feared of. It’s what’s in here.

A breeze shuddered through the trees, and as Thane’s gaze met mine, I felt an odd little thrill shoot through me, almost like a premonition. A sign.

Destiny.

“Keep Angus close,” he said. “And stay out of the woods after dark.”

Eighteen

T
he fear I’d experienced a moment ago was already starting to fade as we walked back through the lych-gate into the public section of the cemetery. But I was glad enough to turn my back on those looming hills. The sun was warm on my face, and I could hear the pleasant trill of the wood thrushes in the trees outside the entrance. A more peaceful setting, I could hardly imagine, and yet…I couldn’t resist glancing over my shoulder where mountain met sky in that timeless union.

“Will you take me to that grave?” Thane said at my side, and had I not been so adept at schooling my reaction, I might have jumped. For a moment, I’d forgotten all about him as I contemplated the mystique of those distant blue walls.

I turned back around. “There isn’t much to see. I gave you a thorough description at dinner. A north-south oriented grave decorated with seashells, pebbles and a headstone without an inscription.”

“Yes, I know. But I need to see it for myself.” He surveyed the woods with a frown. “That’s still Asher land. Now that you’ve brought it to my attention, I can’t just ignore that grave. It’s my responsibility to find out who’s buried there.”

His responsibility. Not Hugh’s. Not his grandfather’s.
His.

I remembered at dinner how Hugh had shrugged aside my discovery, claiming the mountains were full of such remote burial sites. And Pell’s main concern had seemed to be that no one had warned me about the laurel bald. I wondered what either of them would say about Thane’s interest.

“Unless someone comes forward with a name, it’ll be difficult,” I warned him. “Unmarked graves are hard enough to identify in old graveyards, but at least one has the help of site maps and descendant recollections. Here, there’s not even an inscription to go by. Without the guideline of year of birth and death, you’ll have to wade through thousands of records, and that’s even assuming a death certificate was filed. The process could take months. Years even.”

“The old courthouse has boxes of files stored in the basement. I guess we could have a look through those. Although I would think vital records are computerized these days.”

“Not the old ones, especially in rural counties. But…” I glanced up at him. “You said
we.
”

He held the gate for me, then closed it behind us. When he turned, I saw worry lines between his brows. “I’d like your help with this. You know more about these kinds of searches than I do.”

I said flatly, “Your best bet is to ask around. In a town this size, someone has to know who’s buried there.”

“People around here don’t like answering questions. They’re too afraid of stepping into someone else’s business.”

Did that reticence explain the reaction to the hidden grave at dinner last night? And Tilly’s warning about meddling in things I didn’t understand?

I pushed a strand of hair back from my face. “I’d love to help, but I’m committed to the restoration. My first priority has to be the cemetery. That won’t leave a lot of free time for tracking down records.” It was a cursory excuse at best because I already knew I would help him. An unmarked grave, no matter how old or remote, couldn’t be allowed to stand. Whoever was buried there deserved a name. Deserved to be remembered.

“Will you at least take me to the grave? I can find it on my own, but it’ll save time if you show me the way.”

I decided not to remind him that he’d just warned me to stay out of the woods. Besides, it was hours until dark, and I had a feeling nothing would happen with an Asher along.

“All right. I’ll show you.”

“Should we take Angus with us?” he asked.

“We’ll have to. I’m not leaving him here by himself.”

He glanced down at me. “You’re really spooked about last night, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me?”

“No. But try not to worry. I’ll find out who set those traps.”

“The same way you found the kennel? What did you do to them, Thane?”

His gaze dropped again to Angus. “Not nearly as much as I wanted to,” he muttered, and I decided it was best to leave it at that.

* * *

We paused at my car just long enough to allow Angus to lap up some fresh water, and then the three of us entered the woods together, our footsteps silent on the mossy floor. It was cool and dim inside the trees, the air spicy with pine and cedar. As we walked along in that perpetual gloom, I thought again of Papa’s mountain stories, but why should I waste time worrying about mythical creatures like vampires and werewolves when my world was full of ghosts? And now I had entered a new world, one of hidden graves, strange winds and whispering trees.

And Thane Asher.

He seemed distracted as we walked along, head slightly bowed, eyes on the ground. It seemed to me that the temperature had been steadily dropping the deeper we walked into the woods, and I stopped to put on my jacket. Thane automatically reached over to help me, and I felt a little tingle where his fingers brushed the back of my neck. If he noticed my slight withdrawal, he said nothing.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded without lifting his gaze from the path.

“At the risk of sounding insensitive, what happened to Wayne Van Zandt’s face?”

He shrugged. “I can only tell you what I’ve heard. It’s one of those things that people tend not to talk about.”

“There seems to be a lot of forbidden topics around here,” I murmured.

I caught the edge of a smile. “You catch on fast. Anyway, it happened a long time ago, before I came here, so what I’m about to tell you is second- and third-hand information. Take it with a grain of salt. The story goes that he went up to the falls to meet someone one night. A girl he’d been seeing. He was found unconscious the next morning by the pool. He’d been badly mauled and nearly died from blood loss and infection. When he finally came around in the hospital, he didn’t remember a thing.”

“Not even the attack?”

“Nothing. But the wounds were consistent with a bear attack.”

“He warned me about wild animals when I saw him the other day. I thought he was just trying to frighten me, but maybe his concern was genuine.”

Thane swatted a gnat from his face. “I wouldn’t assign too much nobility to Wayne Van Zandt’s motives. He’s had a chip on his shoulder for as long as I’ve known him.”

“With good reason, it would seem.”

“Yes, but remember, he’s the same guy who offered to take care of your dog. And he would have probably derived a great deal of pleasure from doing so.”

I glanced over my shoulder where Angus plodded along behind us on the trail. When he noticed my attention, he gave a little whine and came up between us, nudging Thane off the path. “Hey!”

I laughed and bent to give his mangled head a pat.

Thane good-naturedly fell into step behind us. “You’ve got yourself quite a companion,” he said.

“I know. He’s wonderful.”

“Will you take him with you when you leave here?”

I answered without a second thought. “Of course.”

“He’s lucky he found you, then. I’d like to think Samson happened upon someone like you.”

“Maybe he did.” But neither of us sounded convinced.

Angus soon grew bored of my pace and loped ahead. I called him back because I didn’t want him out of my sight in the woods.

“Now that I know what happened to Wayne Van Zandt, I understand something that Ivy said to me the other day.”

Thane had moved back up beside me, and our shoulders kept brushing even though I hugged the edge of the path.

“What was that?” he asked carefully.

His wariness amused me. “You do realize she has a crush on you.”

When he didn’t say anything, I glanced at his scowling face. “Come on. It’s just a crush.”

“Ivy’s not like other girls,” he said. “There’ve been some incidents.”

My smile faded at his tone. “Like what?”

“Stalking,” he said grimly.

“Stalking? As in following you?”

“Yes, and breaking into my car. Stealing some personal items.”

“How do you know it was her?”

“Trust me, I know.”

“What did you do?”

He shrugged. “Not much I could do. I couldn’t prove it and I thought it best to just ignore her rather than to make a big deal of it. I figured she’d outgrow it in time.”

“Has she?”

“I’d hoped so. Until the other day, I hadn’t seen her around much.” He paused. “So what did she say to you?”

That you would never choose an outsider, I thought. “We were talking about the waterfall. She said it was a thin place. A location where the living world and the Other world connect.”

“Like vortexes,” he said. “What did Bryn call them?”

“Gateways to the realm of the dead,” I said evenly. “According to Ivy, people used to go up to the falls because they thought they could glimpse heaven, but now they stay away because they’re afraid. Sidra cut her off before she could finish, but I have a feeling she was talking about Wayne’s attack.”

Thane shrugged. “You never know. These hills are full of folklore and superstition. Even the educated aren’t immune. You heard the way Catrice and Bryn talked about the mountains.”

“They do seem to hold them in reverence. Luna, too, I think. She told me her mother used to say that she would wither and die if she left this place.”

“I somehow think Luna would survive,” he muttered, and I wondered if he knew about her relationship with Hugh. “Actually…” he said slowly, “she was the girl Wayne went up to the falls to meet that night.”

I swung around in surprise. “Luna Kemper?”

“There’s only one Luna around here,” he said. “She and Wayne were close back then. Inseparable, people say. Then my uncle came back from Europe and…well, you’ve seen him.”

“Wayne is an attractive man, too. I’m sure before the accident he was a real heartbreaker.”

“But he’s not an Asher.” Thane’s voice was so matter-of-fact, I wondered if I might have imagined a slight edge.

“That certainly explains Wayne’s attitude,” I mused. “He was very contemptuous when I mentioned that Luna was the one who made all the arrangements for the restoration. I had the distinct feeling there was bad blood, at least on his end. But you said his accident happened years ago before you came here. That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”

“Grudges are like superstitions. You know they don’t make sense, but you cling to them, anyway.”