The Twilight Before Christmas (25 page)

“What happened, Joley?” Sarah prompted.

“I went up to my room after we all talked the other day. Hannah said she closed the window because the fog was slipping into the house, and it made her uncomfortable. I was so tired I just crashed on the bed, and I didn’t think to pay attention to the feel of the room. I woke up choking, strangling really. At first I thought I’d wrapped a scarf around my neck in my sleep and somehow pulled it tight. But the fog was everywhere, layers of it. I could barely see. I pulled the scarf away from my throat and turned on the fan. My throat hurt and… ” She hesitated, sighed softly, and dragged the turtleneck sweater away from her throat. Distinct round bruises marred her skin.

“And you didn’t think it was important to tell us?” Sarah turned on her younger sister. “That we shouldn’t know this thing has advanced to such a sophisticated level of violence? Joley! You weren’t thinking.”

“I know.” Joley rubbed her palm over her thigh. “At first I was terrified, and I went through the house and began to gather the herbs and flowers for the windows, but the entire time I wondered why it just didn’t kill me. If it could partially strangle me, why didn’t it just do it all the way?”

“Maybe he isn’t strong enough,” Abbey ventured.

Sarah glanced toward the sea. “He’s strong enough. He managed to take shape and, from what Matt says, even find a voice.”

“Are you saying he didn’t try to kill Joley? He certainly tried to kill Elle,” Abbey argued. “Maybe he wasn’t prepared for how hard she fought.”

“I’m
saying it didn’t try to kill me,” Joley said.

“Then what was it doing?” Sarah asked.

“I think it was trying to silence my voice.”

Kate put a protective hand to her throat. “In the shadow world, he went for my throat as well.”

Something deep inside of Matt went very still. Kate had an incredible voice. “If he wants to still the voices capable of enthrallment, Joley, Abbey, and Kate are definitely on the hit list.” He looked at Elle. “But why you?”

She smiled, her green eyes bright. “Maybe he doesn’t like redheads.”

“I think he doesn’t want to be saved,” Kate announced. “When I touched him, I felt rage, yes, but it wasn’t his primary emotion.” She leaned towards Elle. “Didn’t you feel sorrow and guilt? You were there, you had to have felt it.”

Elle looked down at the journal, her expression sorrowful. “I felt it,” she said in a small voice.

Matt raised his head sharply. “Elle shares emotions, doesn’t she? You connected with Jackson when he was taken prisoner.”

Elle refused to meet his eyes. “Yes.”

“But he was halfway around the world,” Matt protested.

Libby put her hand out to her youngest sister, and Elle took it immediately. “It’s very difficult sometimes, Matthew,” Libby explained. “We’re different. We look the same and try to act the same, but we’re not normal and sometimes the overload is… ” She searched for the right word, looking helplessly at her sisters.

“Dangerous,” Sarah supplied. “Using our talents is very draining. Each of us has to overcome by-products of her gift.”

“I’ve seen it in Kate,” Matt agreed. “Is there any way to minimize it?”

The seven women looked at one another. As usual, it was Sarah who answered. “We all handle it in different ways. Most of us find our own space and live there, as shielded as we can manage to be.” She smiled at Matt. “I know it will help Kate to have you. Damon helps me.”

“So far I haven’t managed to keep her from wearing herself out. Every time I think we’re going to get a little respite, the fog comes in again,” Matt pointed out. He was extraordinarily happy that Sarah had accepted his relationship with Kate.

“You’ve helped enormously,” Kate acknowledged.

Elle leafed through the journal. “You said there were symbols on the seal, Kate? Could you read it at all?”

“The first Drake settlers must have been the ones to seal the restless spirit, Elle. It was definitely formed around the time the town was settled. From what I could read, it was something about rage and sealing until one is born who could do something. I went back to take another look, but most of the seal was crushed and the actual writing lost,” Kate admitted.

“Until one is born who can do something,” Sarah repeated aloud. “Something to do with a voice.”

“Here it is,” Elle said triumphantly. “‘He who will not receive forgiveness shall remain sealed until one is born who can give him peace.’”

There was a long silence. Matt stared at the cranberry candle as the three flames leaped and burned. Hot wax poured over the side like a lava flow, forming a thick pool around the holder. It was a fascinating sight, deep purple wax flowing almost like dark blood. “Why would he need peace?”

Elle pushed a pair of glasses on her nose and studied the faded writing. “One of the sisters who helped to seal the spirit must have had precognition the way Mom does. If that’s the case, it means we should be able to find a way to allow him to rest.”

“Unless the earthquake opened the crack in the ground and allowed him to escape before his time,” Matt said.

“I doubt it,” Sarah said seriously. “Things usually happen the way they’re supposed to happen, Matthew. It’s obviously our time. We have no choice but to figure this out. It’s our destiny.”

Matt wiped his hand over his mouth. He wasn’t certain he believed in destiny. He felt Kate’s hand in his hair and changed his mind. “Hannah, are you feeling any better?” She didn’t look better. Without her, he wasn’t positive they could have managed to get Elle back up the cliff in the midst of the thick fog or drive the entity out to sea and away from the townspeople time after time.

“I’ve been resting. Libby’s helped.”

Libby Drake. Matt looked at her. She was legendary in the small town. She was the only Drake with midnight black hair and pale, almost translucent skin. She was a natural-born healer, the real thing. He smiled at her. “It’s good to see you again, Libby. Maybe you better hide out while you’re home. If word gets out you’re back, you’ll have everyone in town lining up for a cure.”

“I do want to visit Irene’s son while I’m home. My sisters went to see him and did what they could to make him comfortable, but I promised I’d go see him.”

“Libby—” Matt shook his head—“you know he has terminal cancer. Even you can’t get rid of that.” He waited. When no one said anything he looked at her. “Can you?” The idea was unsettling.

“I won’t know until I visit him,” Libby admitted.

“What would be the price?” Matt couldn’t imagine what it would cost Libby to actually cure someone sent home to die.

Libby smiled at him. “I can see why Kate loves you so much, Matt. You’re very discerning. It’s a trade-off. I might save one person, but while I’m recovering, I might lose a hundred others.”

“That bad?” He reached his hand for Kate. The thought of what the women had to go through on a daily basis moved him. In their own way, they were warriors, and he had a deep respect for them.

“Does anyone want more tea? I’m getting another cup,” Hannah volunteered.

“I can get it,” Matt offered. He felt a little useless.

Hannah paused just a few feet from the entrance to the kitchen. “I’m already up, but thank you,” she said, and took two steps, halting abruptly, staring at the flickering candle in the bay window facing the sea. “Sarah, you need to come look at this.”

Matt got to his feet, pulled Kate up beside him. Apprehensively, he glanced out the large window to the sea. He already knew what he would see. Anytime anything strange happened, the fog was back, settling over the town like a smoky monster crouched and waiting.

“What is it, Sarah?” Elle asked from her position on the couch. She had pillows piled around her, a comforter over her, and strict orders to remain where she was.

“The wax is forming something as it runs down the sides,” Sarah explained. “It looks like a hook to me.”

“Or a candy cane.” Matt was more pragmatic.

“It’s a staff,” Hannah corrected. “A long staff, or maybe a cane. Something used to walk with.”

“This is getting more bizarre by the minute,” Abbey said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “And while we’re on the subject of bizarre, Joley, I’m sorry, but there was no excuse for your not telling the rest of us what happened. You take shielding all of us way too far.”

Sarah’s smile at Joley was gentle. “She’s right, hon. You should have told us what happened. Do you have any other bad news you don’t want to worry us with?”

Joley hesitated for a brief moment, then shrugged. “I’m sorry, I should have mentioned the strangling fog. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?” She burst out laughing.

Kate joined her. “I have to admit, it threw Christmas wreaths at me.”

“And no one is going to believe the fog
pushed
me over the cliff,” Elle said with a small grin. “This one will go into our journal and nowhere else!”

“I plan on telling our children,” Matt announced. “It’s a great story for around the campfire, and they aren’t going to believe us anyway. They’ll think I’m a brilliant storyteller.”

“Children?” Joley raised her eyebrow. “I love the idea of Kate having children. Don’t the Granites produce boys? Very large hungry boys?” Her sisters erupted into laughter while Kate covered her face and groaned.

“You aren’t helping, Joley,” Matt said, putting his arms protectively around Kate so she could hide her face against his shoulder. “She hasn’t even agreed to marry me yet. Don’t be scaring her off with the idea of little boys running around.”

Sarah continued to study the wax flow over the sides of the candle. “Do you see anything else that could be helpful in that book, Elle?”

Elle rubbed at the bump on her head and frowned at the thin pages. “There was no single predominant religion in the town at the time people first settled here. A faction celebrated the birthday of a pagan god. This is very interesting.” Elle looked up at her sisters. “Many of the settlers here came together to celebrate their differences, unable to live anywhere else. The founding fathers wanted a safe haven by the sea, a place they envisioned would one day have a port for supplies. It actually says a lot about the town’s founders and perhaps gives us insight to why the people here are so tolerant of others.”

“And it explains why our own people settled here.”

Kate nuzzled Matt’s throat. “If I remember my grandmother and her history lessons correctly, she said Christmas was slow to catch on in America, that the colonists didn’t celebrate it, and in some instances actually banned it.”

“That’s right.” Joley snapped her fingers. “It was considered a pagan ritual in some places. But that was a long while before this town was settled, wasn’t it?” She swept Elle’s hair away from her face and fashioned it into a ponytail. “Does that have anything to do with all of this?”

“Thanks, Joley,” Elle said. She smoothed the worn pages. “The townspeople wanted to celebrate the Christmas season and settled on a pageant. They asked everyone to participate regardless of their beliefs, just for the fun of it. They treated it more as a play, a production that included all town members, meant to be fun rather than religious.” She looked up with a small smile. “Libby, our however-many-greats-grandmother has your very interesting handwriting. Aside from the language, I have to decipher the worst handwriting on the face of the earth.”

“I do not have the worst handwriting on the face of the earth.” Libby tossed a small pillow at her sister, missing by a great distance.

“There’s something else in the wax,” Sarah said. “All of you, look at this! Tell me what you see.”

The sisters crowded around the cranberry candle. Kate tilted her head, studying it from every angle. “Where did you get this candle, Sarah? Is this one Mom made?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know it would do this.”

“Is a candle a symbol of Christmas?” Matt asked.

“Yes; some people say the light of the candle relieves the unrelenting darkness,” Kate answered. “My mother makes incredible candles.”

“I can imagine. Do they all do this?” Matt indicated the flowing wax.

“It’s a face, I think,” Sarah said. “Look, Abbey, don’t you think it’s a face?”

“That wouldn’t surprise me.” Matt peered at the thick pool of wax. “The spirit found feet, a coat and hat, and bones, why not get himself a face, even if it’s made of wax. Does it have eyes? Maybe he wants to get a good look at us.”

“Ugh.” Kate made a face. “That’s a horrible idea. It could never use one of Mom’s candles for that. Mom instills a healing, soothing magic in each of them. We were the ones who forgot to guard our home. She insisted we make certain every time, but we just got complacent. I’m not forgetting this lesson for a very long time.”

“Me either,” Joley agreed.

“I think I found it now,” Elle said in excitement. “Most everyone wanted to participate with the exception of a small group of believers in the gods of the earth. They considered the pageant a Christian holiday celebration and felt it was wrong to participate. One of the most outspoken said the pageant was evil and those participating would be punished. His brother-in-law, Abram Lynchman, went against his advice and allowed his wife and child to take part. Because he stood up to Johann, the rest of the group also decided to join the town in the pageant.”

“Is this Johann angry because his flock was out of his control?” Joley asked.

Elle held up her hand for silence. Her hand went to her throat. Matt noticed that her hand was trembling. “Everyone helped with the production, bringing homemade candles and lanterns. The shepherd herded several sheep with his staff, and the sheep got away and ran through the crowd.”

None of the sisters laughed. They were watching Elle’s face intently. Matt glanced out the window to see the fog solidly in place. For some reason, his heart began to pound. The strange radar that always told him danger was near was shrieking at him, even there in the warmth and safety of the Drakes’ home.

“The people were having fun, laughing as the sheep rushed through the crowd with the shepherd running after them. The sheep panicked and ran straight into the small shelter the town had erected to use as the stable for the play. The shelter crumpled, knocking several candles into the dry straw. Fire spread along the ground and across the wooden planks used to make the shelter. Several participants were trapped under the debris, including Abram’s wife and child.” Elle had a sob in her voice. She shook her head. “I can’t read this. I can’t read the words. Anastasia, the one writing the journal, was there, she saw the entire thing, heard the cries, saw them die. Her emotions are trapped in the book. I can’t read it, Sarah.” She sounded as if she were pleading.