The Kingdom

*   *   *

After I loaded up my tools, I came back around the house to collect Angus. A woman stood at the end of the pier tossing something into the water, and my heart lurched until I reminded myself a ghost wasn’t likely to appear before dusk. And, anyway, even though she had her back to me, I recognized Tilly Pattershaw’s slight form.

Angus still lay in the shade watching the squirrels, and I thought it odd that he hadn’t barked when she came up. He didn’t seem the least bit alarmed by her presence. In fact, he looked half-asleep. I bent to give him a pat before I started down the stepping-stones, coughing discreetly so as not to catch her unaware. But she paid me no mind even when my boots clattered on the wooden planks of the pier.

“Ms. Pattershaw?” I said softly as I approached.

“I’m called Tilly,” she said, without turning.

“Good morning. I’m Amelia.”

“I know who you are, girl.”

“I guess Luna told you that I’d be staying here for a while. Thank you for getting everything ready for me. And thank you especially for your help last night.” I moved up beside her at the railing. “I don’t know how I would have gotten my dog free if you hadn’t come along when you did.”

“I’m not here for thanks,” she said stoutly.

“I never thought you were. Still…I’m very grateful.” I motioned toward the house. “Someone cut a hole in the screen and took Angus off the porch last night. You didn’t see anyone else in the woods, did you?”

“I saw no one but you, girl.” Her gaze darted over me, and I felt the oddest quiver at the base of my spine. I wasn’t afraid of Tilly Pattershaw…far from it. I was genuinely happy to see her. But there was an undercurrent in her voice, the shadow of something dark in her eyes that made me grip the railing until my knuckles whitened. It was only with some effort that I was able to relax my fingers.

“You did notice the traps that were set all around the clearing, didn’t you?”

“Don’t you worry none about that.” She tossed another handful of crumbs into the water and then turned, her assessment once again quick and sharp. Contrary to Bryn Birch’s assertion, the woman seemed in complete control of her faculties. “I took care of them traps.”

“That’s good to know.” I had so much more I wanted to ask her about the episode in the woods, but I remembered Thane’s caution that she had little use for strangers, and I didn’t want to frighten her away.

We fell silent as I watched her feed the fish. She was a plain woman, but I found great beauty in the movement of her hands, encased though they were in a pair of cotton gloves. She wore her gray hair scraped back in a bun at her nape, a harsh style for such a careworn complexion, but the wind-loosened tendrils gave her face an unexpected sweetness that belied her gruff demeanor and shadowy eyes. She was a woman of contrasts, I thought, and I liked that about her.

I made a slight movement, and she glanced up, her eyes revealing a flutter of emotion before she quickly returned her attention to the water.

“Luna said your house is down that path,” I said. “Is it close by?”

“Close enough.”

“Do you come here often to feed the fish?”

“I come here to visit the cemetery.”

“The cemetery? You mean…the one down there?” I glanced into the murky depths and shivered. “You had family in Thorngate?” I asked carefully.

“Most of my people are buried in Georgia,” she said.

What about Freya? I wondered. “Thane Asher told me that the bodies weren’t moved before the water rose. Is that true?”

“He told you right. They’re still down there. Right under our feet. The Fougerants and the Hibberds and those poor little Moultrie boys. My girl knew every last one of them.”

I glanced at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, but the motion of her hand was steady. “She used to come here to read the headstones when she got lonely. She knew all the names by heart. They were her friends, she said. And the graveyard was her hideaway. Her special place.”

I felt that tingle along my spine again. “I had a place like that when I was a child. Rosehill Cemetery. It was my special hideaway. My sanctuary. The only spot I ever felt truly safe.”

She nodded. “My girl’s gone now, but I reckon she’d still come here if she could.”

I didn’t trust myself to speak at that moment. My heart had quickened, and I felt a little breathless as I envisioned Freya’s ghost hovering on this very pier. I wanted to tell Tilly about her, but I knew better than to acknowledge the dead. And I knew, too, that the restless spirit of a loved one rarely offered comfort. It was far better for Tilly to think of her daughter at peace.

Still, I couldn’t help wondering if she could sense Freya’s presence here, if she somehow knew that her daughter lingered. Was that why the ghost had told me to leave so vehemently? Was I intruding on her peace…her sanctuary?

I didn’t think so. It had been my experience that places were rarely haunted. People were haunted.

I turned back to Tilly. “You say your family is from Georgia?”

“Union County,” she said. “I was born and raised in the shadow of Blood Mountain.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Since I was a girl. I was fifteen when I left home. I came here to study with a midwife. When she died, she left her place to me, so I stayed on.”

“You’ve been here most of your life, then.”

“I reckon I have.”

“It’s beautiful country,” I said.

Her eyes lifted to the mountains, and she shivered.

“Are you still a practicing midwife?”

“I gave that up years ago.” She glanced down at her gloved hands. “Just as well. Not many babies being born around here these days.”

“I guess when businesses started to close a lot of people left town.”

Her gaze went back to the mountains. “The lucky ones.”

“What do you mean by that?” When she didn’t answer, I touched her sleeve and felt a slight tremor go through her. “Why did you come into the woods last night, Tilly? How did you know I needed help?”

“Sound carries at night,” she said.

“Did you hear the howling?” I asked urgently.

“I heard your dog. I could tell he was in trouble.”

“But you told me to get out of the woods. You said something was coming.” I studied her face. “What was out there last night?”

Her voice hardened. “You ask too many questions, girl.”

“Because I need to know what’s going on! Strange thing have been happening ever since I came to town. What’s out there in those woods? What lives up on that mountain?”

She turned with a scowl. “It don’t live in the woods, girl, or up on that mountain. It don’t live anywhere because it’s not anything.”

The hair at my nape lifted as I looked into her eyes. “But I’ve felt it in the wind. I’ve heard the howling. It’s out there. I know it is. It’s cold and evil—”

Her hand whipped out to grip my wrist, her fingers digging into my flesh until I jerked away. “Go home, girl. Go back to where you came from. Best not meddle in things you don’t understand.”

I massaged my wrist, shaken. “I can’t go home. I have a job to do here.” And I needed this job. I had a living to make, a business to run. My professional reputation was on the line.

“Best not be so stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being practical. I signed a contract. I can’t just walk away. And, anyway…” I watched her warily. “Why does it matter? If it’s not anything, how can it hurt me?”

Her voice lowered to a desperate whisper. “Don’t you understand? It’s not what’s out there you need to be a-feared of.” She placed a gloved hand over her heart as she leaned in, and for the first time, I thought there