Tangled Webs

by Bibiana Krall

  Tangled Webs

  The Haunted Series, Book 2

  Bibiana Krall

  Veronica Cline Barton

  Black Calyx Books

  TANGLED WEBS ©2021. All rights reserved. 1st rights printing permissions granted under Tangled Webs® The Haunted Series Book #2 story collection. #Halloween2021

  Copyright © 2021 Hviske, Sculpture of the Dead, Mode de Veuve Noire © short stories by Veronica Cline Barton

  Copyright © 2021 Widow’s Walk, Spirit Island, Ragno Dazante © short stories by Bibiana Krall

  Spiderweb Illustration © 2021. https://www.freepik.com/free-photos-vectors/halloween

  Proofreading provided by the Hyper-Speller at www.hyper-speller.com

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Proudly printed in the U.S.A. by Black Calyx Books.

  First Printing, September 6th, 2021

  Paperback ISBN: 9798713682392

  Black Calyx Books

  Savannah, Georgia 31401

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or used in a fictional manner.

  Some of the recipes in the bonus pages contain alcohol and gluten. Pregnant women, elderly persons, underage people or those with allergies or a compromised immune system should be careful about eating certain foods and imbibing alcoholic drinks.

  Neither the authors nor the publisher claim responsibility for adverse effects resulting from the use of homemade recipes, ingesting alcohol and/or dietary information found within this book. Please eat and drink responsibly.

  Contents

  Norway

  1. Hviske

  Falmouth

  2. Widow’s Walk

  Aspen

  3. Sculpture of the Dead

  Jasper

  4. Spirit Island

  Quebec City

  5. Mode de Veuve Noire

  Taranto

  6. Ragno Dazante

  Seasonal Recipes

  Author’s Notes/Acknowledgements

  Also by Veronica Cline Barton

  About the Author

  Author’s Notes/Acknowledgments

  Also by Bibiana Krall

  About the Author

  Tangled Webs

  Norway

  “The seeds of death grow within, lying in wait for their season to bloom…” –Veronica Cline Barton

  Hviske

  by Veronica Cline Barton

  For a period of two and a half million years, glaciers ravaged the coastlines of Norway, creating over one thousand fjords in their aftermath. Visitors usually see less than ten of these craggy inlets---their waters filled with camera-laden tourists, snapping pictures of the rugged landscape as they are ferried along the coastline.

  The majority of fjords are uninhabited, the terrain and frozen temperatures proved too daunting for many with the exception of a few, hardy souls. In the mystic surroundings of Fell, my ancestry was part of the Arctic land and sea that had survived through the ages. Respect for nature and the preservation of resources gave our humble existence a regal ambience, in tune with the ancients of the earth.

  Ten years ago, our natural habitat was obliterated by the arrival of government teams and contractors, intent on building a gargantuan, nuclear plant that would provide power to millions.

  Our craggy grounds were drilled and tilled—majestic forest replaced by rebar, concrete and cooling towers that obliterated views of the swirling Northern lights. Our natural dwellings were slowly surrounded by pre-fab apartments and shops selling preserved foods, mass-produced clothing, and cheap liquor to numb the minds of the workers who had little appreciation of our ways with the land.

  Gas-powered vehicles deafened the sound of nature that once surrounded us. Greed became rampant with the nomadic employees who sacrificed their civilized worlds to pursue the mighty krona.

  The spirits of the earth were tense. For those of us who had been bestowed with the gift, the frequency and intensity of nature’s hviske reached new heights of urgency and demanded change. I knew what had to be done.

  When Moder Jörð speaks, we listen…

  “Nora! Nora, the hatch is frozen again. Come help me, I’ll be late for my shift.”

  My eyes drifted open to the view of the gray-blue sky that surrounded my mirrored, treehouse-like dwelling. It stood ten meters high, surrounded by the branches of the grand firs that stood tall and proud on the land. There were just a few dwellings like mine in this deserted neck of the woods on the northern outskirts of Fell. The mirrors reflected sky and tree branches, shielding the timberland nests away from prying eyes.

  “Nora, please wake up. Olgie will be livid if I’m late again.”

  “I’m coming,” I hissed, rolling out of the warmth of my down, quilted bed, sitting upright. I pulled on my fur slippers and donned a wool sweater over my sleeping attire that these days consisted of lined, sweat pants and a long-sleeved tee. Each day we crept closer to the onslaught of winter chills and endless night.

  I moved my arms back and forth in a swinging motion to get my blood and energies flowing as I made my way down the wrought-iron, spiral staircase that led to the main living area.

  My cousin Anna’s face was beet red from trying to open the hatch door in the floor that opened to the ladder outside. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing at her as she huffed and puffed around the perimeter of the hatch. Dressed in her heavy, winter attire she looked like a flustered Julenissen.

  “Anna, I’ve told you time and time again—you don’t pull up, the hatch slides.” I bent down and grabbed the handle, easily sliding it open. A blast of cold air sent us both reeling backward.

  “Why can’t you live down in the woods in a humble, ground cabin like normal folk? Living up in the trees is crazy.” She bopped my nose with her fur-gloved hand as she started the descent down the carved, ladder slats.

  “Ja, ja, I know. If I lived in a cabin though I wouldn’t get to see your lovely face in the exquisite shade of beet-red. Give Olgie a kiss for me,” I teased.

  Anna picked up a wad of snow in her glove and hurled it at me. Even at ten meters away her aim was spot on. Luckily, I moved quickly and slid the hatch shut before the majority of her snowball infiltrated our lofty space.

  The hatch secured, I rubbed my now freezing hands together to get warm. I spied the espresso pot on the stove burner and smiled. Having a cousin stay with you wasn’t all bad.

  I poured myself a healthy shot of the caffeine goodness and took a seat on the plush chair by the wood stove. I pulled a fur over my lap and sipped my coffee as I stared at the flames jumping in the glassed, stove front.

  I was envious of Anna’s spunky attitude. She normally lived in the town center and had assimilated with the growing crowds of people who came to Fell to work at the plant. She moved in with me a few days ago. She too, shared my special gift and found living in close proximity to the hundreds of moaning whispers made life unsettling.

  Here in the treetops, I was spared from the continuous hum of the dodsones.

  For at least a few hours here in my nest, I could revel in the silence of the trees.

  When the cuckoo clock chirped three, it was my turn to head back to the clinic where Anna and I practiced our gifts. Our workplace was in fact a homeopathic spa of sorts, funded these days by contracts with the power plant. The workers at the facility pulled long hours to get the final instruments and c
ooling towers ready to go live.

  In a few weeks, the decade-long effort would achieve a major milestone and churn billions of megawatts loose on the earth. The electrical pulses would be consumed by the power-hungry public who seemed oblivious to the destruction of the lands.

  There were twenty of our kind who resided in Fell, including the main healer and leader of our Hviske Sirkel, Ingrid Olsen, or Olgie, as she was lovingly known. She trained and mentored beings who had been born with the gift. Her weathered hands and raspy voice could send shivers down your spine if she wasn’t pleased. We knew though, that she cared for us as her own, the rays of protective love emanated from her fierce heart.

  From an early age, we learned the herbs that healed the ills of the body, massage techniques to rid the joints of painful ills and the use of heat and water to accelerate the flow of healing energies. Our ancient techniques would not likely be featured in the glamor magazines that the beauty fanatics around the world coveted. There were various tiers of healing—as we progressed through our training, we soon knew where each of our areas of expertise lay.

  We harvested most of our herbs, muds, firewood and sea salts from the local woods and the shores of the majestic Fell Fjord that harbored our town. Our sirkel was broken into blocs that specialized in the treatment that best fit their tier of healing and sensitivity. As quasi-holistic scientists, we also studied anatomy and physiology, tailoring the treatments that would be given to our guests.

  Anna was trained in botany and was in charge of the hydroponic greenhouses where our herbs and plants grew and thrived. She and her team had a natural touch with the fragile greenery that was exceptional given our frigid surroundings.

  Their hviske and soft touch energized the plantings, causing them to soar from their budding confines within the seed pods into the air and water that would nurture them.

  Sven and his cohorts specialized in waters and mud, perfecting the chemistry that would benefit the healing of certain ills. There were custom mud baths and pools that guests were sent to, depending on their healing needs.

  Elke was the hot yoga master at the clinic. She and her yogis practiced their moves in the sweltering heat to rid the body of toxins and breath in the heated air to energize the lungs.

  Their moves defied gravity as bodies and spirits touched the plains of nirvana.

  The remaining team consisted of me, Olgie and three others. We had the gift within our senses and hands—to soothe the hviske of the dodsones within, or to turn them loose to fulfill the darker seeds of their destiny. We were the masseuses at the clinic, the ones gifted with the highest sensitivity. One day, I would lead our Hviske Sirkel.

  A word about the dodsones —they exist in all of us from the day we are born. They are void of thoughts, knowledge, traits that define our eternal essence. For many, the dodsones remain stagnant as we mature and evolve. Our life choices and ultimate legacy are untainted by the dark void within.

  Sometimes though, the dodsones fester internally, stoked by the pressures of a world obsessed with gluttony and greed without thought nor care of consequence. Depression, rage, despair, and even acts of evil may result. If they are not treated, freed from their bodily dungeons through healing---havoc and destruction run rampant.

  When the dodsones of a world in crisis are unleashed, devastating calamities are often the outcome, with unimaginable, global consequences.

  “The protestors are ingrates, they should all be imprisoned…” the woman scowled, stomping the snow within her path.

  “Just walk off the cliff…it would be so simple to end the pain…” whimpered the pale teen, the color draining from her face as the wind buffeted her thin coat.

  “So what if I dumped the acid into the fjord—everyone does it—now they want me to be an example. I’ll show them…” a gnarled man groaned, taking long chugs of cheap alcohol hidden within a brown paper bag.

  I heard the whispers emanating from those I passed as I reached the bustling town center. I kept my head down low and gave them no notice, focusing on the crunch of snow beneath my boots.

  Once a festered whisper knows you have heard it, their dark void latches onto you in a frenzy, gnawing its way into a healer’s essence, wanting to destroy the spirit. One festering dodsone can be managed, but a crowd is dangerous. I just wanted to make it to the clinic unscathed.

  “Nora, god ettermiddag! Come, come, I have lingonberry scones today!”

  I slowly raised my head from my stony trance and smiled when I saw Elisa waving from the doorway to her bakery. She had been my closest friend for ages—her blond hair and plump, rosy cheeks beamed with joyfulness on this cloudy day, giving a much-needed brightness to the atmosphere.

  Elisa knew all my secrets, but loved me as only a true friend could. Her booming laughter and bright spirit cheered up everyone around her. Light and love emanated from her hviske sone—she was a rarity in this part of the world that seemed at times consumed by darkness.

  I waved and started across the park ground to see my friend and grab one of her freshly, baked treats. My stomach rumbled in anticipation of her crumbly, sweet scones. I hastened my pace when I saw the steaming cup of mocha she held in her hands, teasing me as she waved it in front of her.

  She knew I would never pass up a cup of chocolate caffeine.

  Oof! Before I knew it, I was flat on my back, out of breath from the collision. I glanced up and saw a young man dressed in running attire, kneeling in the snow a few feet away, holding his head.

  I raised myself up onto my elbows as I caught my breath. I slowly moved my legs and feet back and forth—nothing seemed to be broken, but I could feel the shards of dodsones start to move through my brain.

  To my chagrin, the people I had passed earlier were making their way over to me.

  “Are-are you all right? I didn’t see you coming…” I whimpered, pulling myself up to a seated position.

  “Look, get her—she’s a danger!”

  “Jump with me…it’s pointless!”

  “I’ll show you what acid does when it’s poured down your gullet…”

  I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my hands. I had to get away from the intrusion—the cacophony of the dodsones was growing stronger. I wouldn’t be able to stop them much longer. Panic stirred in my stomach—I was being ambushed.

  “Hallo, look at me. Open your eyes.”

  My crash buddy had crawled over to me, covering my hands softly with his. I peeked through my squinted eyelids as my blurry vision zoomed in. I saw the soft, blond swirls of hair curling on his forehead. A slow grin appeared on his face when he saw me sneaking a look at him.

  “Thar, that is better. Open your eyes, please,” his soft murmur was comforting. I was about to follow his lead when the whispers from the gathering crowd grew more intense around me. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could and pushed my hands closer against my ears until they were rife with pain.

  “You should be shackled in a dungeon and left to starve…”

  “The darkness is calling, it’s pointless…”

  “I could detonate the towers in this cruddy town…”

  I felt my thoughts swirling in a mental whirlpool in my head as the rage and despair from the dodsones of those surrounding me converged, pulling me down into a dark, mental oblivion. I had to get away, but I seemed frozen to the ground as my mind scrambled…the earth began to rumble beneath me, a response that was becoming more frequent.

  “Get away, go on!”

  Elisa shoved the gawkers away from me and shooed them back with her booming voice. She and my crash buddy carefully pried me off the frozen ground and slowly walked me into her bakery. I sat at one of the tables by the lace-covered window as she chased a few customers from the store and quickly locked the entry.

  My crash buddy once again was bending over me. My heart swelled when I saw his face, his blond curls framing deep blue eyes and a dimpled chin. He was a dashing, Nordic specimen.

  “Hallo, my liten, crash girl
. I’m Dr. Arnes-- Johanne. I’m the new doctor at the plant. That was some crash. I thought a glacier had calved into the park.” He smiled as he gently touched my face and ran his fingers down my arms, checking for broken bones. His touch was electrifying to me.

  “Both of you collided before I knew it. My eyes were on Nora, I didn’t see you coming, Doctor. Are you training for the Olympics?”

  Elisa carried two steaming cups of mocha to the table as she guffawed at her attempt to bring a bit of levity to our unplanned gathering. She motioned for the doctor to sit. He could tell she was not going to listen to protestations.

  She placed her hand gently on my shoulder and squeezed.

  “Thank you, Elisa.” I gratefully sipped the hot mocha, looking over at Johanne across the table through the steam rising from the cup.

  His eyes were gazing at me too as we locked onto each other. I took a few sips and placed the cup gently down on the table. My hands were shaking slightly. I licked the residue of the mocha from my lips.

  “Nora.”

  My skin tingled when I heard him whisper my name. I raised my hand over the table to shake his in greeting. “Dr. Arnes, I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention…” He covered my hand with his and shook his head.

  “No apology needed, Nora. I had my earbuds in listening to my jazz playlist. It felt so good to be out in the fresh air with my music I wasn’t keeping an eye out either. Here I am less than twenty-four hours into town and I have my first casualty.” He scrunched his nose at me, causing us both to smile. I couldn’t get over how icy blue his eyes were.