Beneath the Bones (34 page)

“I started searching, and I quickly became lost as well. Both of us might’ve died in those tunnels, but Althea came looking for us. She found you, then me. She took us to Sanctity and, despite my protests, she used her powers to suppress your memory of what happened. Afterward, you fell asleep. She said it wasn’t necessary that you remember and that it would be a kindness to help you forget until the day you were ready to know the truth. Maybe she was right. At any rate, Marshall drove us into Mare’s Nest Woods and dropped us off. You were still asleep, and after Marshall drove away, I began carrying you. Eventually you woke up, your memory of the whole experience gone. I told everyone I’d found you in the woods, and with the help of Stan Manchester, not to mention the Crosses’ influence, few questions were asked, and my story was accepted.”

Joanne looked at Dale with new understanding. “I always knew you were a good man, Dale Ramsey, but you made a literal deal with a devil to save me. There’s no possible way I can ever thank you enough.”

Dale drove for a few moments more before responding. “I lost my wife and daughter because of a choice I’d made. Afterward, I vowed I would never lose anyone again, not if I could help it, no matter the cost to me personally. You don’t ever have to thank me, Joanne. On the contrary, I should thank you. Rescuing you and working at your side ever since … it saved
me.”

Even though Joanne now knew the truth, she still couldn’t recall any specific details about the time she’d spent with the Old One. “There’s still one thing I don’t know. What did the thing do to me? What
am
I?”

“I told you. You’re the Guardian. Even with the Crosses’ help, the Old One’s dreams still escape from time to time, resulting in the strange events that occur in the county. It’s your job to deal with the weirdness when it happens. That’s why you have your Feelings. They tell you when something is wrong and needs fixing. Plus — and I’m not sure Althea knows this — I believe you’re supposed to serve as a check against the Crosses. They might serve the Old One, but the powers they’re granted can be abused all too easily. You’re supposed to help keep them in line.”

“In other words, I’m the Old One’s watchdog.” She didn’t like the sound of that.

“That’s one way to look at it, but not the only way. The borders of Cross County roughly correspond to the Old One’s sphere of influence. You’re the county sheriff, aren’t you? Why did you think you were elected, young as you are? The Crosses wanted to make sure the Guardian was in the best position to perform her duty.”

“My election was fixed?” After everything she’d learned recently, she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was.

“Let’s just say the Crosses helped your campaign. And I contributed by convincing you to run in the first place. But I didn’t do so to help carry out the Crosses agenda. I thought you’d make a damned good sheriff, and you have. Better than Stan Manchester ever was — and
not
because you were chosen to serve some half-demented god. Because of who you are. Joanne Talon, steady of hand, clear of eye, and stout of heart.”

“And you’re full of shit,” she muttered.

Though they were zooming through a tunnel in an electric cart, heading for a rendezvous with a danger Joanne was only beginning to fully comprehend, she couldn’t help thinking of what implications the revelations she’d learned had for her as a person. She’d meant what she’d said when she’d told Terry she’d learned to leave her disappearance in the past and focus her emotional energy on the here and now. But now she knew that she’d been changed during the six days she’d been missing. But the question was, changed into what? The way she’d emerged naked from the Old One’s mind, it was as if she had been destroyed and reborn within the depths of its deteriorating psyche. So what did that make her? If she wasn’t the same Joanne Talon that had fallen inside the mound, who was she? Some kind of duplicate? Was she even human at all? And everything she’d done in her life, the choices that she’d made, the accomplishments she’d worked so hard to achieve, the good she’d tried to do for the citizens of Cross County … was all of it because she was simply fulfilling her role as the Old One’s Guardian, following the path the ancient being had mapped out for her, with no more self-awareness or autonomy than a machine carrying out its pre-programmed function?

“I may well be overflowing with shit,” Dale said, “but we still have a job to do. Now it’s your turn to get me up to speed. Althea told me that Lenora, Marshall, and Debbie are headed for the Reliquary, and that they pose a threat to it. That’s all I know.”

Joanne spent the next several minutes of their journey through the dark, winding tunnel telling Dale everything she’d learned since they’d last seen one another.

“Let me see if I got this straight,” Dale said. “Carl Coulter’s spirit was drawn back to the world of the living because he thought his mother was in danger, and he didn’t like the idea of someone impersonating him. He tried contacting you in a dream, but when the dream turned nightmarish, you awoke, and he was unable to deliver his message. So when he couldn’t get through to tell you what was happening, he tried to communicate with Lenora, his half-sister. But he did more than just talk with her. He
became
her. And now brother and sister are working together to get revenge on Marshall and the rest of the Crosses by destroying the Reliquary.”

“I’d hoped it would sound less insane if I heard it from your lips,” Joanne said. “It doesn’t.”

Dale thought for a moment.

“Then who killed Ray Porter and Tyrone?”

Joanne opened her mouth to answer when she realized that out of everything they’d learned, they still didn’t know. “Lenora, I assume.” But even as she said it, it didn’t sound right, didn’t
Feel
right.

“Carl tried to show you two faces in your dream. Lenora is only one person — not counting her new soul-brother — and the second person can’t be Carl himself.”

“So there’s someone else,” Joanne said.

“Well, it’s not me, and I’m fairly confident it’s not you.”

“Your faith in me is overwhelming. Tell you what — let’s worry about figuring out whodunit later … assuming we survive to do anything at all.”

“Deal.”

• • •

Althea watched as the elevator door closed, cutting off her view of Joanne and Mr. Ramsey. She felt a great deal of sympathy for the girl. Not only was she about to face the greatest challenge of her young life, she was going to learn some uncomfortable truths in the process. If Joanne succeeded, she’d come out of this much stronger. But
if
was a small word with gargantuan implications.

Althea wished she could take a more active hand in this matter, but she’d gone over all possible strategies and outcomes in her mind a thousand times. And given her mental abilities, she could do more than merely imagine possibilities. She could
see
them. Because of this, she knew without doubt that she was doing the right thing by limiting her involvement. But knowing didn’t always make doing any easier.

She still had a task to attend to before her part in this drama was over, though. She walked toward the end of the hall until she reached a winding wrought-iron staircase and descended to the ground floor. She continued on to the main entrance now, and she reached the door just as the bell rang. She unlocked the door and opened it. Standing on the porch, both looking somewhat the worse for the wear, were two men she’d never met before, but whom she’d been expecting nevertheless. They were the last two players in this little drama, and it was about time they arrived.

“Can I help you?” She kept her voice neutral, as if she had no idea who they were or what they were here for.

The man in the shirt and tie smiled, and his eyes gleamed with a mad intensity that even Althea found daunting.

“You can tell us where Marshall and Lenora are.”

• • •

“I wonder if you can appreciate how strange this is for me, Father. I’ve never been here before, yet my sister has known this place almost since from birth. I have access to both our memories, and it’s like seeing through two very different pairs of eyes.”

The three of them — four, Marshall supposed, if you counted Lenora and Carl separately — stood in a large cave directly beneath Barrow Hill Mound. The chamber was illuminated by globes of soft white light erected on metal poles around the circumference of the cave. The lights had their own power source and were activated when motion detectors registered the presence of visitors. Their cart was parked near the entrance of the tunnel that led to Sanctity. Four other tunnels branched off from the cave, each leading to a different location in the county, but those tunnels were rarely used. In the middle of the cave lay the object of Carl’s fascination. The Reliquary.

It had been carved from a gray stone column and remained connected to the ceiling and floor of the cave. Altogether, the Reliquary measured twenty-five feet from top to bottom. The points where the smooth surface of the Reliquary gave way to rough stone resembled nothing so much as wrinkled brain tissue, a touch Marshall had always found appropriate. Small recessed areas had been carved into the column, dozens upon dozens of them, each precisely large enough for an icon to fit inside. Though only the icons closest to the front were visible, there were many more stored one behind the other. Marshall knew the precise number of icons, their exact locations, and whose spirits were housed within.

The air in the chamber was suffused with power on the verge of breaking free, like a dam near to bursting. Only the combined power of the icons kept the Old One’s energy contained.

Perhaps it was coincidence, but Lenora stood directly before the most recent addition to the Reliquary — the icon containing the spirit of Ray Porter. Marshall decided not to point out that bit of irony, though.

Lenora stood two feet from the Reliquary, while Marshall stood several feet farther back, next to Debbie. He could feel Carl and Lenora’s power wrapped around him like a giant hand holding him in check. It held him loosely at the moment, but not so loose that he could break free. He knew that if he so much as tried to move a step forward or back on his own, the invisible hand would squeeze tight around him, ensuring he behaved like a good little boy.

Lenora looked as if she wanted to reach out and touch the Reliquary but couldn’t bring herself to do so.

“This is where the family gathers to worship the Old One,” she said. Or rather Carl said using her voice. Marshall wondered if there was any point in trying to differentiate between the two anymore. As time went on, their personalities seemed to be fusing into one, a new individual, greater than the sum of its parts.

“We don’t think of it as worship,” Marshall said. “More like communing with the spirits of our forebears and basking in the presence of the Old One’s power.”

Lenora shrugged without taking her gaze off the Reliquary. “Sounds like worship to me.” She paused and tilted her head to the side, as if listening to something she wasn’t quite sure she really heard. “What’s that noise?”

“The spirits in the icons. They whisper to each other constantly, though it’s unclear what they’re saying. We think it’s part of how they keep the Old One pacified. I imagine it sounds louder to you because you’re dead. At least half of you is.”

“They’re not whispering,” Lenora said. “They’re singing. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

Marshall himself could only detect the merest hint of the icons’ whispering, and even then only on occasion. He strained to hear what Lenora did, but it was no use. The icons’ song was not for him, it seemed.

Lenora turned back to look at Debbie. “Do you hear them, Mother?”

“I don’t hear singing
or
whispering,” she said petulantly, like a child upset at missing out on something everyone else was experiencing. “But there’s something else …” She frowned in confusion. “It’s not a voice, though. It’s pictures. They’re in my head, so many of them, going by so fast. The strangest things … the most
awful
things …” She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut, as if by doing so she might deny the unsettling images access to her mind. Marshall knew it wouldn’t work.

Lenora rushed forward and took hold of Debbie’s hand. The woman kept her eyes closed, but now she was shaking her head back and muttering, “No, no, no, no, no …”

Lenora shot Marshall an accusing look, as if he was responsible for what was happening to Debbie.

“This close to the Reliquary, her fragile mental defenses aren’t enough to keep out the Old One’s dreams, even with the icons’ assistance,” Marshall said. “I can help her —
if
you’ll release me. If you do, I promise not to interfere with your plan or attempt to escape.”

Lenora reached out and touched Debbie’s cheek with gentle concern. Marshall could tell she was considering his offer. Once he was free, he would help shield Debbie from the Old One’s dreams. Then, despite his promise, he’d turn on Lenora and Carl and do everything he could against his children to protect the Reliquary. Though Marshall doubted Lenora or Carl could read his thoughts — that was a highly complex and delicate skill only a few Crosses had mastered, Althea chief among them — Lenora looked at him and smiled.

“Nice try, Father.” She turned back to Debbie and stroked her cheek. “Be strong, Mother. I promise you won’t suffer much longer.” She walked back to the Reliquary and fear stabbed into Marshall’s gut like a blade of ice.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

He’d hoped that once Lenora and Carl were in the Reliquary’s presence, they’d reconsider their plan to destroy it. Power was a heady brew, as the Crosses had known for generations, and once one had a taste of the pure stuff straight from the source, it became addictive. But evidently not for Carl and Lenora.

“What we came for,” Lenora said. “To destroy the Reliquary.”

She plucked an icon at random from its alcove and lifted it to her face for a closer look.

“That’s Ray Porter’s spirit,” Marshall said, hoping it would stir sympathy in whatever part of his daughter’s soul that remained in her body.