Mother of Crows

by David Rodriguez

  “Oh, sure. If there’s a Thaw within two hundred years or miles, he’s blood. Harrison Thaw.” He stuck out a meaty paw that was more scar than skin. Nate shook his hand and felt like he could be crushed at any moment.

  “The reason I ask, sir, is that my ancestor knew your ancestor.”

  Harrison Thaw stared at Nate, and then came a glimmer of recognition. “Baxter, you said. Related to Josiah Baxter then, I expect.”

  “Yes! Yes, Josiah Baxter, that’s right.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I was hoping that you might have some things of Israel Thaw’s.”

  “Why would you want something like that?”

  “I’m…Um… I’m researching my family tree for school.”

  “And you found that, lo and behold, Josiah Baxter was hanged on the green.”

  Nate stiffened. “Yeah.”

  “Ayuh, came as a shock to me as well. Well, you’re in luck, son. The Thaws have been in this cabin for nigh on three hundred years. Still have trophies from the French and Indian War in here.”

  “I don’t think I need to see those.”

  “No, I don’t expect anyone has much need of Indian scalps, anymore.”

  Nate tried not to let his shock show on his face. Thaw grinned. “I’m just funnin’ ya. Come in, boy. You look like you had a long ride up here.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Sit down, and I’ll go fetch what I have.”

  Harrison Thaw gestured to a cluttered table in what Nate was going to charitably call a breakfast nook. The walls were covered with animal heads and antlers. Nate tried to ignore the lessons he’d learned from numerous horror movies about the clear warning signs of a crazed killer. Thaw was just an outdoorsman… who liked to shoot living things. A lot of living things.

  A few minutes later, Thaw returned with a leather-bound book. “That’s the old man’s journal.”

  Nate stared up at him, flabbergasted. Thaw grinned a gap-toothed smile. “How do you have this?”

  “Three hundred years, Mr. Baxter. I got things up in yonder attic you would not believe. Israel Thaw called Josiah Baxter his true friend, so if Nathan Baxter comes to Harrison Thaw for a favor, you know it would be done. Now, would you like a soda pop?”

  “Yes. Yes, sir. Please.”

  Thaw plopped a sweaty can of off-brand soda on the table and then left Nate alone with the journal. Nate did what he could not to test the man’s hospitality and tried to skim to the relevant points as soon as he could. The journal, unsurprisingly, ended right at the Great Arkham Fire. Israel made no mention of setting it. He merely wrote that it had broken out. Like all the stout-hearted men of the township, he had gone out to fight it.

  Nate paged backward by days and weeks. He found mention of both Josiah Baxter and Luther Hobbes. It seemed like the three men were good friends-maybe even more than friends, Nate thought suspiciously. Israel referenced a brotherhood between the three of them that transcended simple friendship. The journal also made references to some kind of evil, and said that they were the only ones who could stand against it. He wrote like they were the Fellowship of the Ring or something.

  As Nate kept scanning through, he found there was a fourth member of the group. All four of these men were involved in the same thing and had made the same commitment to each other. The way Thaw wrote, any of them would have done anything for the others. It was the four of them against the world.

  But only three of them were hanged.

  The lone survivor of the group had a name that Nate recognized very well.

  Bryce Quincy Coffin.

  59

  Happy Birthday

  March 26th fell on a Saturday, which meant that Abby could have a party on her actual birthday. Normally, she would have been excited, but she dreaded it. As usual, Constance had sent invitations to everyone she knew. This year, she’d set her sights higher by sending a mass invitation to the entire arkhamacademy.edu mailing list. All must be called upon to celebrate the anniversary of the arrival of the Thorndike scion, Abby thought bitterly.

  Every student at Arkham Academy had been invited to Abby’s party, but she knew that no one was coming to Whorewich Hall. Why would they? She would have been just as happy to cancel the party, but there was no stopping Constance. It all felt like a slow-motion scene from a bad action movie-you could see the disaster racing toward you, but you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  The trees were green with new foliage; the air rang with birdsong; and the sun was warm on her shoulders. A few streamers waved in the wind. Abby thought the streamers were pathetic and babyish, but her mother had insisted.

  She sat at a picnic table with Constance and Hester on the southeast lawn. She was surrounded by presents (all from her mother and grandmother) and snacks. There was too much food-way too much, even if only a fraction of the invited guests showed up-but they weren’t allowed to eat anything until the guests arrived. Abby’s stomach groaned. She wanted to yell that no one else was coming, but could not, so they sat in the sun and waited.

  Hester wore a scarf, large sunglasses, and a hat. She was having more and more trouble moving around, and once she was parked, she generally stayed there unless she found a compelling reason to move. Now she was a grumpy shape in gauzy white, occasionally uttering a grunt of disappointment.

  “I told you no one was going to come,” Abby said.

  “Oh, nonsense,” Constance said.

  “Abigail is correct,” Hester said. “She has shamed herself, our home, and our name. People will avoid this place like the plague.”

  “Mother!” Constance was shocked.

  Hester shrugged. “I did not create the world, Constance. If you desired a different outcome, perhaps you should have done a better job of raising your daughter.”

  Constance shot her mother a horrified look, but Hester didn’t seem to notice.

  Abby wished she could act surprised at her grandmother’s words, but after the last few weeks of hiding out in the biology classroom with Mr. Harris during lunch period, she had become somewhat inoculated to emotional abuse.

  Movement caught her eye. Nate came up the lawn, clutching a present in his hands. He was the one person Abby knew she could always depend on, the only one who she could actually picture coming to this sad party to genuinely enjoy himself.

  “Oh look, the gardener’s boy,” Hester said. She took a deliberate sip of her iced tea.

  “Nathan, welcome!” said Constance. “We are so happy you made it.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it, Mrs. Thorndike.”

  “Help yourself to some food.”

  Abby lunged for it first, now freed of the obligation to wait.

  “Happy birthday,” Nate said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Welcome to the wild world of being fifteen.” Nate had turned fifteen in January. Abby had a bit of nostalgia for his party: a fun afternoon and evening at his place with just his family.

  “I feel totally different.”

  “You look taller.”

  Abby grinned and began eating. She didn’t care about her mother’s usual concerns about eating like a lady. There was no one around to care.

  A few minutes later, two more people crossed the lawn.

  “Oh, how nice. Sincere. And is that the Coffin boy?” Hester said.

  “Sindy, Bryce, so lovely to see you both,” Constance said.

  Both Bryce and Sindy looked a bit nervous to be there.

  “Thanks for inviting us,” Sindy said, and from her tone it was obvious that the invite was a surprise.

  “We couldn’t have a party without you,” Constance said. One could almost believe she meant it.

  Abby looked at the both of them. Her best friend and the boy she’d thought was the ‘one.’ She wanted to hate them for getting together behind her back, but her rational mind intruded. There was no ‘behind her back.’ They were free to be together. More importantly, they’d come out to support her when no one
else had. That was something, and Abby wasn’t so rich that she could afford to throw away their kind gesture.

  Abby gave them both a small smile. “Hi guys. Thanks for coming.”

  Bryce held out a small, wrapped package. “It’s a pony.”

  She accepted it and said, “I’ll make sure to brush him every day.”

  “Hey, Abs,” Sindy said. She approached Abby with her arms open. Abby rose to hug her. The embrace was not tight, but it was familiar and carried the warmth of forgiveness. “I’ve missed you.”

  Bryce moved off, getting himself a soda from a bucket of ice. Nate watched him, and then got himself another soda a moment later.

  “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been… you know. Congratulations to you two, I guess.”

  Sindy frowned. “Congratulations for what? It’s not that hard to get here. It’s like six blocks.”

  “You’re going out, right? You’re his girlfriend now.”

  “I’m his whem>now?”

  “You don’t have to hide it for me. I mean, I appreciate that you would. I guess. I… I really want you both to be happy. You deserve it.”

  Sindy looked at Abby with a raised eyebrow. “So pregnant brain is, like, a real thing, huh?”

  Abby blinked. “Huh?”

  “That’s the only possible explanation for you thinking I would even consider dating, Bryce.”

  “But you were hanging out a lot.”

  “Yeah, like friends hanging out. Like you and the lawn boy over there, but you know, prettier. God, is that why you’ve been mad?

  Abby felt her cheeks getting hot, and she tried to count the blades of grass in the lawn beneath her feet. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “You could have just talked to me. Hey, Abigail. Look at me.” Sindy put her hand under Abby’s chin and tilted her face up. “I would never hurt you like that. No matter what happens or whatever stupid thing we fight about. You and me. Us. We’re forever.” She held Abby’s face in both of her hands. “Do you understand me, Thorndike? You are my family.”

  Abby’s lip trembled as she looked at her best friend. “Above all else… sisterhood.”

  Sindy’s glistening eyes mirrored Abby’s as she graced her with a perfect smile.

  “You bet your sweet ass, preggers.” She grabbed Abby close to her again and held her there. The tightness in Abby’s chest loosened and she noticed, for the first time, the day all around her. It was beautiful. On any normal day, there was little that could compare to a perfect spring day in Arkham. But today, after months of things getting worse, the weather seemed like a gift from the universe itself. She was spending her birthday with the three people she cared most about in the world, and she didn’t even care that no one else was going to come.

  They drifted into conversation easily. Even Nate was on his best behavior. When Abby got up for another drink, Bryce followed her.

  “Hey, Abby.”

  She turned to face Bryce. She was startled by how he looked. The sun backlit his hair and made him look as though he were wearing a halo of light. The soft glow traveled along the hard curves of his shoulders and outlined his biceps in the short polo he was wearing. He looked like he had glided down from Olympus to spend a day slumming with mortals.

  And then the bastard went and smiled at her.

  Abby put her hand on the refreshment table to steady herself. Her legs had decided they were no longer interested in holding her upright.

  “Do you think we could be done fighting now?”

  Fighting? With a sun god? I don’t even remember my last name right now.

  She looked at him again and there was something soft behind his smile. She had already forgiven him for their fight at his house. She’d been mad at him for weeks, for no reason at all it seemed. He had every right to be upset with her, or to demand an apology. Instead, he showed up and then he just… asked if the fight was over.

  She reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face, then let her fingers linger on his cheek. He leaned into her hand.

  “I would like that, Bryce.” She stroked his cheek. “I would like that very much.”

  60

  A Surprise Gift

  The party was perfect. Abby and her friends talked and hung out like everything was normal. Constance and Hester kept to themselves for the most part. Bertram commanded an army of house servants who had been hired on just for the party. They outnumbered the partygoers three to one.

  Constance stood and raised a glass of diet cola, her one vice. “May I have your attention?” she asked the group. She already had it, of course. “Today, my Abigail is fifteen years old. In the tradition of our town, stretching back to our pilgrim ancestors who made this country what it is, fifteen has long been considered the time when a girl becomes a woman.”

  Hester nodded to herself. Abby could almost see the strings from her grandmother stretching to her mother. The tightness in her chest returned, and she knew whatever was coming was going to be horrible.

  “Our Abigail is now a woman. Unfortunately, she chose to take womanhood before it was offered. So…” Constance paused. A blur of emotions passed over her face. “So, as much as I would like to announce her initiation into the Daughters of Arkham, I cannot. Our society forbids any kind of moral failing. What are rules if they do not apply to all of those beneath our banner?”

  Constance turned toward her daughter. Abby saw nothing in her mother’s eyes. They were empty, vast, and green, like the sea. “Though it hurts my heart to say this, especially here on this happy day-Abigail Thorndike, your initiation into the Daughters of Arkham must be postponed… indefinitely.” She choked on a sob.

  “The Daughters have always stood as a paragon of fidelity and responsibility in Arkham,” Hester said from her seat. “And you have shown that you have neither. Perhaps you should have been more like your friend, Sincere.” Sindy flinched as all eyes turned to her.

  “She is the perfect image of who we are, what we stand for, and although the Endicott family might not have roots as deep as the Thorndikes, it is more than apparent that their branches stretch higher.” She turned to Sindy. “I’m so glad you joined us today, my dear. It is important that someone provide a good role model for our Abigail.”

  Nate, Bryce, and Sindy were all stunned. When Abby glanced at them, only Sindy recovered enough to mouth, I’m sorry.

  It wasn’t Sindy’s fault. It was this weird thing in her family, in the town. The Thorndikes were supposed to be perfect, and she had violated that unwritten contract.

  Abby wasn’t perfect. Not anymore.

  61

  The Coffin Concern

  Nate spent every spare moment in the public archives of the library. No more combing through old newspapers in the moldy basement in the hopes of some small clue, no more going in to the hills to talk to scary people (although Harrison Thaw did turn out to be a nice man). No, this project was all nice and public domain.

  Though Nate would deny it to himself, Abby’s birthday party had spurred him on. He probably would have done it, anyway, what with the strange link between his and Bryce’s ancestors, but the sight of Abby and Bryce together boiled Nate’s blood and made him sick to his stomach. The two of them had talked for a long time on the south lawn, right by the swing that Nate thought of as his and Abby’s place. He needed evidence that Bryce was just as bad as he always thought he was.

  He dug deep into the Coffin family history. The Thorndikes had built Arkham, but the Coffins were arguably as important these days. Their fortune had the stink of nouveau-riche about it-a concept Nate understood as rich people finding a way to look down on other rich people-because they didn’t bring it over with them on the Mayflower.

  The Coffins had money in everything. Most of their money was hard at work making more money, and very little of it was in anything tangible. Nate traced the origins of the fortune back as far as he could. The first thing the Coffins ever purchased was timber land in 1802. From there, they only expanded, though this
seemed to be the result of savvy investment rather than anything sinister.

  It all came back to that first purchase. As near as Nate could tell, before Bryce Coffin shelled out a good deal of money for that land and mill, the Coffins had nothing. Then, the purchase of the land set off a snowball effect. Pretty soon, the Coffins were buying Texas and California oil fields, newspapers in New York and Boston, and a shipping company in Charleston.

  1802… Less than a year after Josiah Baxter, Luther Hobbes, and Israel Thaw were hanged on the town commons for setting the Great Arkham Fire. From everything Nate had found in Thaw’s journal, if those three were up to anything, they were doing it with Bryce Coffin as well. Only Coffin didn’t hang.

  Coffin didn’t hang and one year later, he spent more money than the four men could have possibly earned in their combined lifetimes.

  And then Nate saw it. It was right there in front of him the whole time. Coffin had sold his friends out for his thirty pieces of silver, and he had turned that into the vast Coffin fortune.

  After that, Coffin’s star continued to rise. He married Olive Chesterfield, an important society lady. It took Nate the barest of research to confirm that, yes, Olive had been a Daughter of Arkham. Coffin had died only a year later, so at least he didn’t get to enjoy his betrayal for long. He lived long enough to start his family line, though, a line that stretched all the way to Bryce Quincy Coffin IV.

  Nate leaned back, rubbing his strained eyes. Bryce’s family had built their lives by betraying Nate’s family. He knew it was irrational, but this made him hate Bryce all the more. It was like learning they belonged to two sides of an ancient feud, like the Hatfields and McCoys, only one side hadn’t realized they were fighting.

  They had, in fact, already lost.

  62

  Welcome to the Daughters

  of Arkham

  sindy’s fifteenth birthday came and went. Her party was large and well-attended, and like any good society girl, all were invited. She was shocked when Nate arrived, and even more surprised when his gift turned out to be thoughtful-a set of homemade magnetic backs for her earrings. She was always losing the ones that came with the earrings, and because of that, often the earrings themselves.