Dark Corner

by Vicki Vass

  He wiggled his tailless behind. He was a smart creature for a dog and fearless. I headed to the Montford District with its crooked streets. Its graveyard was a beacon for the ghosts of Asheville. Its geographic coordinates were calculated by Frederick Olmsted, the genius who constructed the landscaping at the Biltmore Estate. The Vanderbilts were steeped in the supernatural pursuits. Olmsted was their architect of the conduit to the spirit world. They searched the four corners of the earth, acquiring exotic plants and trees. Spirit trees from Ireland, holy trees from the dark continent, bamboos from the orient, all to bring the magic from those places to the Biltmore Forest and to Asheville. The Montford graveyard was at the epicenter of that conduit. The lieutenant would be waiting for me there. I arrived early afternoon. I was tired. It had been a long walk. The cemetery was empty except for a few lost souls. I leaped on top of a headstone. I bent over to read the name Mordecai Alabaster. I waited for dusk. It seemed a cliché, but spirits truly like to travel from twilight to dawn. Not that they’d be seen in the daylight but because the daylight reminds them of their life on earth. The warmth they will never feel again. That was true for all ghosts. But the lieutenant was not a ghost. He had never felt the warmth of the sun, for he was pure evil. The sun melted past the Blue Ridge Mountains. I had no fear. I felt almost relieved that this day had come. I had lived it often enough in my dreams. That feeling of standing on the edge of a great precipice and jumping off. The fear of falling is worse than the actual fall. I wanted to jump off into this last journey. I smelled the lieutenant as his wagon drifted through the headstones. There was one other ghost with him. He was not the one I had felt in the Biltmore basement. The lieutenant was holding a brass urn. “You can let him go,” I said. “I’ll show you the way.”

  He opened the urn and threw the ashes into the air. They swirled like a whirlwind and formed into Albert who looked at me with terror in his eyes. Then he disappeared.

  I led the lieutenant out of Asheville onto the road that Agatha Hollows and I had traveled so long ago. Time slipped away as we walked all the way to Saluda, to the Green River. It was swollen from the spring rains. The lieutenant stopped on the muddy bank.

  “You know I can’t cross moving water. You’ve tried to deceive me. All your companions are dead.” The lieutenant lashed out his whip, tearing fur and flesh from my back. I howled in pain.

  “Wait,” I said. “This is the only way to get where you want to go. You must follow the exact route that Agatha and I took. It’s an intricate puzzle of connecting pieces you must pass through. I watched her closely. I know all the windows you must climb through before you can open the door. I can help you cross. There is magic I know that can give you your flesh back long enough to cross.”

  “If you fail me, Terra Rowan, your companions will suffer a painful death in this life and the next.”

  Agatha Hollows left behind crumbs of magic along our path, knowing that someday I would return and might need them. I couldn’t summon magic in my form as a cat, but I could use hers. I followed the crumbs until I found the mountain laurel she had charmed. “Touch this tree,” I said.

  They touched the tree. The roots snapped out of the ground and wrapped around them. There was a loud humming from its trunk like a buzz saw. Flesh creeped across their bodies. In a matter of minutes, they stood in front of me as their former selves, the men I had seen in Agatha Hollows’s cabin when they came for her. The mountain laurel withered, leaving nothing but a small sliver stuck in my paw. I tried to pull it out, but it was lodged too deep.

  “Carry me, the water is too deep for me to cross,” I told them.

  The lieutenant picked me up and carried me toward the water. He stopped. “Walk. It’s the only way,” I said. As he stepped into the water, stepping-stones rose up to meet his feet. As the water rushed past us, we reached the middle of the river. This was where Agatha Hollows warned me the bottom dropped off, deep and dark. I thought at that time she was warning me to be careful, but I knew now she was giving me a way to stop anyone who came after her. I reached up and sunk both my claws into his cheeks. He screamed in agony. The stepping-stones sunk back under the water. A Dullahan is two creatures—the head controls the body. Without it the creature will perish in the flesh and in its spirit. Agatha Hollows could not take his head at the bridge. She left that for me to do. I tugged until his head separated. His arms swayed madly, reaching for his head. He struggled as we sank to the bottom. I gave up my life to save my friends. I could feel my light struggling to pass from my body as I exhausted all my air. I welcomed this death and awaited my new life. And then I felt myself being lifted out of the water. A large black bear had grabbed the lieutenant’s head and was dragging him and me to the shore. The bear tore at the head as the lieutenant’s body pounded at it. The spell wore off in time for him to grab his head and turn back into a vapor, disappearing into the woods. I lay nearly dead at the feet of the black bear. I could smell its foul stench. I was waiting for it to finish me. Instead, it picked me up and stared into my eyes as it shape-shifted into the form of Mrs. Lund.

  “Terra, are you okay?” she asked.

  I was too weak to answer.

  She built a fire and laid me close to warm me. She watched over me throughout the night. In the morning, I woke as she was turning a trout on a stick over the fire. She took off pieces and fed them to me. I could feel my strength returning.

  We finished the fish. I sat up and studied her. I had never met a shape-shifter before. Elizabeth had told me of the ancient days when they walked with witches. Not quite friends but not enemies. They had a mutual respect for each other’s magic. Somewhere in our great history we might actually have shared the same bloodline. The magic we had woken in Asheville roused her from whatever slumber she had kept.

  “That’s right, Terra, I was drawn to your magic,” she said, putting out the fire.

  “You can read my thoughts. I wasn’t speaking to you.”

  “Yes, Terra. When Abigail Oakhaven found her spirit tree, it awoke white and black magic. It woke the Dullahan which lay dormant after Agatha Hollows took his flesh.” She threw water on the fire, poked at the embers. “It joined the gray coats to hunt witches to drain their light. When it found Agatha Hollows, it made its way to the eternal light. Now we’re both searching for the same thing to reach the next level of our powers, to follow Agatha Hollows into the light. We can’t let him do that, can we?”

  “That’s why you contacted Mrs. Loblolly. You knew her ancestor, the colonel, was tasked with finding supernatural powers to fight the war. You knew that if you followed her you would find the lieutenant.”

  “The colonel was sent a message from a private under the lieutenant’s command. The message read they found a witch with great powers and that they had followed her to Poinsett Bridge,” Mrs. Lund said. “When the colonel and his men arrived at the bridge, they found the lieutenant and his men reduced to ashes, their uniforms intact. The colonel kept the uniforms and the ashes and locked them away, thinking they were killed by magic, which they were. Agatha Hollows reached out from the portal just long enough to destroy them, but the Dullahan did not die a true death. The spirit lived on trapped in the ashes, dormant until you woke it. You woke me also, and I’ve been hunting the hunter. I contacted Mrs. Loblolly, and she told me she had the colonel’s collection of Civil War uniforms. When I found the lieutenant’s uniform, it still had remnants of his ashes. I placed it on the mannequin in the Biltmore along with the colonel’s sword to draw him to me. It thought it killed me before I could kill it. It doesn’t know the limitations of witches and shape-shifters. It doesn’t know how to kill me. Your friends aren’t safe. You need to go back and warn them.” With that, she turned into a great horned owl and lifted me up gently in her talons. She could have made me take her to Dark Corner to the portal, but instead she brought me back to Asheville. For now, I believed she was a good being, a kind being, and that’s the way I would proceed with her.

  She dropped me a
t the doorstep of the Tangledwood Estate. “Save your friends, Terra,” she said before flying up over the mountain ridge.

  “Terra back.” Pixel flew on top of me. “You keep promise, Terra. Good Terra.” He was so excited to see me he didn’t notice Mrs. Lund. For now, I would keep that secret to myself.

  Mrs. Twiggs, Abigail, and Charlotte came out and joined the celebration. Even Tracker acted glad to see me as he cleaned my fur. Albert stood quietly on the corner of the great steps.

  “Thank you, Terra, for bringing Albert back. But what about the lieutenant? What happened?” Mrs. Twiggs asked.

  “He’ll be back, but we’ll be ready. Gather the ladies. I have a story to tell.”

  Chapter 31

  Get a Clue

  I woke with a start. Abigail peered into my room. “Did you hear that scream, Terra?”

  I nodded as we ran down the long hallway of the second floor of the Tangledwood Estate. The ladies gathered in the hallway outside their bedroom doors. The late-night story of my adventures had kept the ladies up all night. They had agreed to stay at the estate. There is safety in numbers, and I felt evil brewing, so I knew we needed to rely on each other.

  We ran down the long, spiral staircase. Abigail stumbled at the bottom of the stairs as we heard another scream. Mrs. Twiggs flipped on the foyer light. We followed the echo of the scream into the library. We found Charlotte standing over the lifeless body of Miss Hartwell. A stream of blood flowed from her head wound, and a silver candlestick lay next to her, covered in blood. Mrs. Twiggs felt for a pulse but shook her head. Miss Hartwell was gone.

  The ladies gathered around in a circle, all talking at once. I saw Mr. Tangledwood puffing his pipe from the easy chair by the wall of bookcases. He uncrossed his legs, stood up, and floated off through the wall. Mrs. Twiggs grabbed an afghan off the couch and placed it respectively over Miss Hartwell.

  Charlotte shook uncontrollably. Unlike the rest of us she had never seen a dead body. Abigail took her into the kitchen. I walked around the body slowly, sniffing for clues. The rug was well traveled by the rest of the ladies leaving their scent. I looked up at their faces. They had become hardened war-torn warriors. Not from lack of compassion but because they knew the big picture and what was coming. I heard their thoughts. Who did this? Who’s next? How do we stop this? And most importantly, why?

  The paramedics arrived before the police. A short while later Detective Willows came in, notepad in hand. He lifted the afghan off Miss Hartwell and peeled it back slowly so he could examine the wound. He motioned to the young officers to rope off the area. “Please all of you wait in the next room.” He motioned to us.

  The crime scene team crawled around the library like a bunch of angry ants, rubber gloved, lifting, examining, taking pictures. Detective Willows donned his reassuring smile. We all sat in the sitting room, silent. We noticed Charlotte crying and shaking. Detective Willows sat down next to her and put his arm around her. “Are you okay, dear? Do you need medical attention?”

  She shook her head.

  Mrs. Twiggs spoke. “Detective, her screams woke us. We were all asleep on the second floor.”

  “Did anybody see anything? Or anyone?”

  “No,” the ladies answered in unison.

  “Charlotte, why were you in the library?” Detective Willows asked.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I came down to get something to read. That’s when I… I found her.”

  The detective stepped over to the front door, examining the lock and the catch plate. I followed him to take a closer look. I had noticed the door had been slightly ajar when we found Miss Hartwell. He thought the same as I did that it was forced open, not an easy feat. He ran his gloved finger along the edge of the door, catching it on a sliver. A young officer came up behind him. Mrs. Twiggs walked over.

  “Butch, what’s going on?”

  “Beatrice, the door was forced open. Is there anything missing in the house?”

  “I don’t know. We didn’t think to check.”

  I searched the house for anything out of place. Mrs. Tangledwood kept a tidy home. The estate sale left the house with the essentials, bedding, and furniture. All items to help stage the home for sale. Mrs. Twiggs joined me taking inventory using the ledger from the estate sale.

  “All here, Terra,” she said. “Maybe the robber was interrupted by Miss Hartwell before he could steal anything.”

  I thought for a moment. “We didn’t check the Not For Sale room, Mrs. Twiggs.” We hurried to the den behind the library. We found family photo albums and other boxes of personal items.

  “The painting, Terra, the one Emma left for Charlotte is gone.”

  Mrs. Twiggs made tea as the detectives interviewed each lady. We watched as the paramedics took Miss Hartwell away.

  Mrs. Twiggs called Detective Willows into the room. “As far as we can tell the only thing missing is an oil landscape of a field of flowers near Poinsett Bridge. It was Emma’s favorite. It was a gift to the Tangledwoods some years ago from George Vanderbilt. She treasured that painting. She wanted to keep it in her family.” Mrs. Twiggs ran over to the writing table and opened the drawer. She retrieved a business card and gave it to the detective. “Here, Darren White, this man was here the day of the estate sale asking about the painting. I told him it wasn’t available. He seemed very interested in it and upset when I told him it was not for sale.”

  Detective Willows took the card, snapping it between his fingers. He stared at the name. “Mr. Not Mrs., huh?” he mumbled.

  “Butch, what are you talking about?”

  “Sorry, Beatrice. Mr. White with a candlestick in the library. I couldn’t help myself.”

  Mrs. Twiggs was not amused.

  “Sorry, Beatrice, it’s been a long day.”

  After the police left, Mrs. Loblolly spoke up. “Beatrice, was this the lieutenant?”

  “I don’t think so, June. Miss Hartwell was human. She didn’t have anything that the lieutenant wanted.”

  “If it wasn’t the lieutenant, then who?” Mrs. Loblolly asked.

  “Why did they take the painting?” Mrs. Stickman asked.

  Mrs. Twiggs looked down at me. I leaped onto the end table. “George Vanderbilt believed in the magic of these woods, so if he did commission that painting, he understood the power of Poinsett Bridge,” I said.

  “Emma’s had that painting in her family for generations. Wouldn’t you think if there were some magic in it, Emma would have known?”

  “Not necessarily. Mrs. Tangledwood just discovered her powers right before she was killed,” I said. “Magic can lay dormant for hundreds even thousands of years waiting for its master to awaken it.” I thought of Mrs. Lund and the other creatures that had awakened since Halloween.

  “That painting was given to Emma’s grandmother after George Vanderbilt died. He meant for it to go to the Tangledwoods to protect it. The Tangledwoods shared his belief in the supernatural,” Mrs. Twiggs said. “Terra, what is the power of Poinsett Bridge? Why did the lieutenant want you to take him there?”

  I had kept that part of the story from the ladies. It was a secret reserved for higher beings, but I felt it time and they had a right to know. “Mrs. Twiggs, Poinsett Bridge is a portal to other realms. When a witch walks through, she becomes a stronger version of herself but risks the danger of being stuck in another realm. The same is true for dark creatures. They become more powerful and more evil.”

  The ladies were silent, absorbing what I said. “Terra, what if you were to walk through the portal?” Abigail asked.

  “I tried once before. I wasn’t allowed entry.” I turned my back and started cleaning myself.

  “We can’t let the lieutenant through the portal,” all the ladies shouted.

  “The way to the portal is a labyrinth. Agatha Hollows could see the path and led me along it. To anyone not on the path it appears as merely a bridge. The path runs along a corridor from Asheville to Dark Corner, South Carolina. As you follow the path
, you gather magic to complete the puzzle. If you stray from that path even by a step the portal will be locked to your entry. The lieutenant knows this. He can’t reach the portal without me to lead him, and that’s why none of you are safe as long as I am with you.”

  “Terra, take me to the portal,” Abigail said.

  “I can’t remember the way. I made it as far as the Green River. My intention was never to cross, but even if I had crossed, the rest of the path is so intricate with twists and turns I will never find it.”

  Pixel pranced into the room, knocking me over onto my back. He stood over me. “No, Terra,” he said with a stern voice. “Not again. Terra and Pixel go Terra, say right?”

  “Yes, Pixel.”

  The ladies circled around me and joined hands. “No, Terra, where you go, we go.” Their eyes became fiery red; they meditated and became their witch goddesses, their true light shining like a beacon from within them. The room became a swirling dervish. I felt dizzy. I couldn’t breathe, and then like Dorothy caught in the tornado, everything stopped dead. I looked around the circle, stopping when I saw Charlotte. Abigail stood in the center with her hands raised to the ceiling. Charlotte completed the circle, Pixel wrapped around her neck. He was terrified. I had never seen the coven unite their powers like that before. I stared at Charlotte with deep intensity. I knew she couldn’t hear me, but she stared back at me. Was she our ninth Wiccan? She was a Tangledwood, meaning that Emma’s blood ran through her. Why hadn’t I seen it before? Pixel leaped from around her neck. Abigail saw what I had seen. A big smile grew on her face.

  “You have to make sure, Abigail.” All the ladies turned to stare at Charlotte.

  “What, what are you all looking at? That was awesome. Can we do it again?” Charlotte asked.