by Jane Kindred
If my suspicions were correct, she was right that Signe wasn’t fit to watch over Konstantin, but this was too much for me to handle right now. I shook my head. “I’m not going to talk about guardianship when we have no idea what’s going to happen with any of this. But Konstantin needs all of us right now.” I also had no idea how I was going to accomplish it, but I had to get Konstantin away from Signe. “I’ll—talk to her.”
Alexis watched me with folded arms as I turned to go. “I’m still holding you responsible.”
As I went down the hall, I turned on my phone and read Lukas’s messages.
One of the staff confirmed it. Signe took the car out. There was no doubt now. Konstantin was in danger with her. Where are you? Get back to the house as soon as you can. That one had been left an hour ago, and the final message I had apparently missed by just twenty minutes: Whatever you do, don’t let Ares— The message ended abruptly as if the phone had been taken from him at that moment. What could have been so important about Ares that he would have tried to use his last few seconds of freedom to tell me? Surely it wasn’t simply another order for me to stay away from him.
There was a voice message as well. Perhaps he’d been able to leave more detail. What he’d left, however, was more confirmation of Signe’s guilt.
“Millie, it’s Lu.” My heart fluttered at the nickname he’d once used with me. I hadn’t heard it from him or anyone else since I’d arrived at the Strand. “Did you get my message about the car? It was Aunt Signe who was driving it that day. And that’s not the only thing. Your phone and your laptop—I found them in her office. I couldn’t figure out why she’d have taken them, but now I think I understand. She was trying to keep you from communicating with Cole. I don’t think Konstantin was her target at all. I think it must have been you.” The message ended abruptly. From the timestamp, the arrival of the sheriff’s department must have cut him short.
It made sense. Signe had wanted me dead for twenty-nine years. But it still didn’t explain why Konstantin had been drugged. I considered asking Ares to come with me when I talked to her, but I couldn’t get Lukas’s aborted warning out of my head. I steeled myself to confront the woman who’d been responsible for my mother’s death, and probably Aravella’s and Karolina’s as well.
I found her in her office, but Konstantin wasn’t there. My pulse raced as I knocked on the doorframe.
She looked up from her desk, slowly taking off a pair of reading glasses to observe me. “Emilie. You’ve heard the news.”
I nodded. “I just got back.”
“We need to talk.” On the desk in front of her, an aluminum attaché case lay open—the case that had been missing since the day Aravella had been killed.
“Where did you get that?”
“Does it matter where I got it? A more interesting question would be where did Aravella get it? She brought this to you, I take it?”
I crossed my arms over my chest to put a symbolic line of defense between us. “She said she’d been doing research while she was away. I knew nothing about it until she showed it to me.”
“As you know, my nephew is currently the sole owner of the Strand.” I didn’t know, but I nodded. “I have the best lawyers in the state working to fix this unpleasant misunderstanding about Aravella’s death. Lukas is innocent, and he’ll be exonerated. And when he is, I must insist that you relinquish any claim to your inheritance.”
“That was what Aravella wanted as well.”
“Indeed?” She pursed her lips as she looked me over. “I wonder that the sheriff’s department didn’t arrest you for the poor girl’s murder instead. You seem to have had more motive.”
I wasn’t going to be sucked into her games. “I’m not interested in trading accusations with you. I came for Konstantin.”
Signe frowned. “Konstantin?”
I drew in a breath. “The Apostolous have asked me to take charge of him in Lukas’s absence.”
She let out a scornful laugh. “So that’s what they’re up to. Ares fabricated that story about Lukas assaulting you to take suspicion from you so they’d have access to the Strand fortune no matter what.”
My blood pressure spiked. That must have been what Lukas was trying to tell me. I’d deal with Ares later. Signe was a bigger threat. “Lukas agreed,” I said. “He doesn’t trust you with his son.”
An angry blush crept up Signe’s face, ruining her graceful elegance. “Is that so? I wonder how you can have managed to deceive my nephew so thoroughly. But as they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re a skogsrå, just like your mother.”
“And just what is that, exactly?”
“A woman who uses her tail to lure unsuspecting men into her hollow.” I gaped at her, but she made a dismissive gesture toward the door. “At any rate, as you can see, Koste isn’t here. He’s with Clara.” A rush of relief went through me. Roger had meant the other Ms. Strand. “If you want to speak to her about your preposterous claim,” Signe added, putting her reading glasses on as she began to examine the will once more, “I believe she’s seeing to his special meals with the kitchen staff.”
I paused in the doorway and turned back, a chill making my spine rigid. “His meals?”
Signe sighed, not looking up. “For his allergies. With Karolina gone, rest her soul, Clara’s making sure the staff is aware and has his supplements at hand.”
I gripped the doorframe. “His supplements? Clara’s responsible for his supplements?”
“She’s a nutritionist. She always worked with Karolina.” Signe looked up, her brow wrinkled with consternation. “Whatever is the matter with you?”
Signe had struck Cole down in cold blood and driven away. And by Clara’s account, she’d killed my mother in a cruel act of vengeance. But Signe wasn’t the one who’d been drugging Konstantin.
I shook my head, backing out of the room, and hurried to the kitchen, but Clara and Konstantin were long gone. One of the kitchen staff assured me, however, that Konstantin’s lunch had been made to Clara’s specifications and packed in a cooler before they’d gone. They’d been dressed warmly for an autumn picnic.
There were only two possibilities I could think of where Clara might go, the Grove or the bluff beyond the cottage. And the Grove wasn’t within walking distance. I checked with Roger and confirmed that no one had taken a car. That left the bluff. All it would take was one misstep with Konstantin sedated…
I dashed to the foyer and stuffed my feet into my shoes, grabbing my coat from the rack, and yanked open the door, only to run straight into Ares coming back from a smoke.
He steadied me on the threshold, giving me a black look. “Where the hell are you going?”
“None of your business.” I tried to pull my arm from his grasp, but he tightened his grip. “Let go of me, Ares.”
“You’re running to him. The sheriff’s department has enough proof to arrest him for my sister’s murder and you’re running to him.”
“They have ‘proof’ because you lied about him. Lukas didn’t kill Aravella.”
“And I suppose you’d know.”
A shocked laugh escaped me. “Not twenty minutes ago, Alexis said you wanted me to take custody of Koste. Now you believe I’m guilty of his mother’s murder?”
Ares gave me a devilish smirk. “I’ve been known to believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast. But you’re not going anywhere.” He made the mistake of moving his grip to my wrist as if to tow me inside.
“That’s what you think,” I snapped, and twisted my hand around his wrist with a quick jerk that made him release me, a kung fu move I hadn’t used since that long-ago class and didn’t realize I still remembered. I whirled and grabbed the door behind him, willing myself into its core. In an instant, I’d stepped in and leapt from the door to a tree beyond it on the drive.
“I’m sorry I ever t
aught you that damned trick!” I heard Ares roar as I leapt again toward the trees lining the path to the cottage. I stumbled out onto the path when I was sure I was out of his sight, disoriented a bit by the odd thought patterns that overtook me from something akin to the consciousness of each hollow. Even dead wood such as a door seemed to retain some sentience, an awareness of its purpose, but I much preferred the serenity of the living trees.
I shook myself. This wasn’t the time for me to be analyzing the secret life of trees. Konstantin was in danger. I ran toward the cottage, scanning the bluff as I came out into the clearing, but there was no sign of Clara or Konstantin. There was, however, smoke coming from the lighthouse cottage chimney.
Yellow police tape flapped across the porch in the wind as I hurried up the steps and found the door unlocked. There was an odd astringent odor to the place, reminiscent of something I couldn’t quite place. A fire burned on the hearth in a seemingly empty cottage, but the door to the lighthouse staircase stood open, ushering a cold breeze into the living room from the broken pane above.
I mounted the stairs as quietly as possible, listening for any sound from above. Except for the faraway sound of the waves on the rocks, it was silent. When I reached the top, Clara knelt with her back to me before a large open panel in the floorboards of the platform, a hurricane lamp beside her as she perused a stack of letters from the paper box in her lap—the box I’d found downstairs. Konstantin stood slumped against one of the remaining panes, a wide-eyed but glassy look on his face that said he was trying to stay awake but failing.
“Aunt Clara.”
She turned with a start, a pair of reading glasses on her face that made her look remarkably like Signe. The letters dropped from her hand into the paper box, and she lowered it into the hiding place in the floor. “Emilie. What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same. Why is Koste up here with you? It isn’t safe.”
Clara sighed and sat back on her heels. “It is never safe for you, dear girl, so long as he’s among us.”
I took a sideways step along the curve of the tower toward Konstantin. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been trying to protect you. Signe engineered him to replace you. As long as Koste’s here, there’s no reason to keep you alive. But he’s not a true Strand. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t hear the Grove like you do.”
I took another step. “But I’m not a true Strand. My mother’s tree is native.”
Clara’s eyes darkened. “Sebastian strayed. But his blood was pure and Lukas’s is not. Lukas’s mother wasn’t even rådande. At least Beverly was, even if she was wrong for my boy. And Konstantin isn’t even part Strand. He’s Apostolou through and through.”
I eased sideways another step.
The dark look passed, and she smiled. “But you can fix that, you see. You have Sebastian’s blood. That’s why I saved you from the fire. You and Lukas are meant to strengthen the bloodline. Your child will inherit everything my father worked for.”
Step. “Let’s talk about this later, Aunt Clara. Not in front of Koste. Let me take him back to the house for his nap, and we can chat over tea.”
Clara flicked her gaze to him dismissively. “He’s not even awake. And it doesn’t matter what he hears. He won’t wake up again.”
I tried to still the thudding of my heart as I searched Konstantin’s glassy stare. He couldn’t be. She couldn’t have. My voice trembled. “What have you done?”
“I’ve protected you, dear girl. I’ve secured your inheritance.”
“No.”
“When I heard you with Lukas last night, I realized everything had finally fallen into place.”
“You heard me?” A shudder crawled over my skin as I continued inching toward Konstantin. He was still standing upright. He wasn’t gone.
“I keep an eye on you, of course, dear. I helped you through the hollows so you could be with him. I must say I was dismayed to find you fornicating with that filthy Apostolou, but at least you had the good sense to use protection. And I’m so pleased you didn’t want any with Lukas. I’m hopeful you’re carrying a Strand inside you right now.”
“Oh my God.” No. He’d pulled out. She was not doing this to me.
I’d almost reached Konstantin. I stretched my hand toward him, but Clara rose and stepped between us.
“You must let him be, Emilie. He’s a mistake. And he set this in motion himself when he came nosing around up here where he wasn’t supposed to.” She removed her glasses and slipped them into her breast pocket with a sigh. “I’d hoped his little fits would convince Lukas to have him sent away. I wasn’t trying to harm the boy. But I realized that afternoon that like all the rest of the Apostolous, he would keep trying to sidle in where he doesn’t belong, to ruin the Strand legacy. And it was fate, really, since his fall brought you home to us.”
She was completely mad. “You don’t have to do this, Aunt Clara.” I tried to use her own logic to dissuade her. “We can send him away with the Apostolous, uproot his tree if we have to. It will void the agreement.”
Clara shook her head. “They’ll never stop trying to take what’s ours. His ashes have to be lost so they don’t poison the Grove. Just as Beverly’s must remain where they fell. I’ve taken care of everything.”
“Beverly’s?”
“She’s here.” Clara waved her hand toward the floorboards. “I had to move her after you started poking about downstairs. I made room for her here, where I keep all the letters we passed between us. It’s all going to go, and then you’ll be safe. The Grove will be safe. The ancestors will never know what I’ve done.” She bent to pick up the lamp, and I recognized at last the smell that seemed to permeate everything in the cottage. She’d doused the place with lamp fuel. She was going to burn it all down, and she meant to do it with Konstantin inside. “We’ll leap together. Everything will be all right now that Aravella and Karolina can’t hurt us.”
“Oh, Aunt Clara,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Why?”
“Aravella wouldn’t let it go, trying to find out more about you, threatening to expose the family secrets. She figured out what Koste’d found up here, and she thought she could use it against us. And Karolina had outlived her usefulness. They had to be silenced.”
“And my friend Cole? Did you silence him too? He didn’t even know anything.”
“He wasn’t right for you, dear. He was going to ruin what you have with Lukas. I tried to keep him away, but he insisted on coming for you.”
Behind her, Konstantin’s body slumped to the floor. I scrambled past her to cradle him in my arms. “No. Oh, please, Koste, no.”
“It’s all right, child,” said Clara. “You’ll have one of your own. A true Strand. Come. It’s time to go.” She dropped the lantern into the open panel of the floor, igniting its contents. I watched with a sick fascination as the flame caught the lamp oil she’d spilled beside it, a spiral of fire curling around the tower platform and snaking down the stairs. Clara held her hand down to me. “Quickly. Let him go and take my hand. I’ll guide you through the jump.”
“No.” I curled myself around Konstantin’s body.
“Emilie.”
“If you want me to jump, I’m taking him with me.”
Clara grabbed my forearm and yanked hard to pull me away from him. “There’s no time for sentimentality.” I felt the solidity of the tower wall begin to waver as Clara tugged at me, her other hand firmly against the wood.
“No!” I yanked back, jerking my arm from her grasp just as I had from Ares’s, and wrapped myself around Konstantin. The wall snapped into place once more, and then I felt the solid matrix of the wooden floor unravel beneath me, and we were tumbling into it, joining with the substance being consumed by fire. I heard Clara yell my name, and felt her stomp on the surface of the hollow I’d embodied as she tried to follow. I rolled, swelteri
ng in the heat that seemed to be radiating through my body, though for the moment I had no form of my own, and leapt. We were tumbling through the steps, the fire strafing my back as I occupied their hollow. But Konstantin was in my arms, whatever that meant within this space. I concentrated on keeping him there.
With an abrupt thud, we emerged from the hollow onto the living room floor, but Clara had leapt before us, holding the shovel from the fire full of burning ash.
“Emilie, let go!” she ordered, thrusting her hand down to me once more. I shook my head, and she dumped the burning embers onto the carpet, sending flame around us in a circle. Scorching heat and smoke filled my lungs. The fire raged like a prowling animal around me, pacing, waiting, roaring in my ears.
I had been marked by fire all my life. I’d felt its warm, sentient presence around me ever since I was born. Like a moth, I’d been drawn to it, seeking its light, knowing its embrace would ultimately destroy me, but unable to resist its pull. It was how I came into the world, and it was how I was going out.
My eyes burned, tears pouring out of them from smoke irritation and grief. Koste didn’t deserve this.
Emilie, take my hand. Gasping and choking, I curled in tighter around Konstantin, thinking Clara had spoken once more, but she’d stumbled back, shrieking as flame ripped up her sleeve.
Emmy.
I raised my eyes, barely able to keep them open. My mother stood before me, the flame visible through her translucent shape.
Take my hand.
I reached up and put my hand in hers, though it had no form.
To the Grove. Leap. To your tree. Her other hand struck the burning wall, engulfing her apparition in flame, and she screamed—or perhaps it was me—and then we were one with the burning agony of the wood.
Leap!
I leapt with all my strength, Konstantin cocooned in my invisible arms, envisioning the Grove and my tree and peace. Calm. The rain has come. Caressed in the soothing patter of water against bark. Roots deep in the damp earth. Breathe. Live. Soar in the wind high above, limbs stretched and embracing sky. Pitter patter. Joyful rain. Pitter patter.
