Cid pounded on the ice to no avail.
“MOVE!” a familiar voice commanded.
Cid threw himself out of the way just as the spectral axe of Stephen Murphy came down and cracked a hole open in the ice. Murphy chopped again and again, looking for the contractor, but Jesse had no air left, and the icy depths had claimed him.
Cid got up and plunged through the hole and down into the icy water. He moved his arms wildly until he connected with Jesse body. He pulled him to his chest, kicked upwards, and tugged hard on the rope.
Carl and Pete pulled together and were rewarded with Cid breaking the surface. They continued to pull as Cid arched his body as if something invisible hauled him out of the water. He was holding on to Jesse’s inert form. They pulled them all the way to the dock. Pete ventured down and helped Cid up. Something unseen had Jesse.
Murphy had seen this before. Blue lips too long starved of air. A heart that wouldn’t beat on its own. Blood too cold to move through the body before him. He reached his hand around the keys, past the prayer beads, and through the ribs, to wrap around Jesse’s heart. He squeezed and released until the blood once more moved through the frozen man’s body.
Jesse coughed.
Carl moved him to his left side, and Jesse threw up the cold water, coughing and taking gasps of air. Jesse’s eyes didn’t want to open, so he kept them closed. His chest hurt.
The siren from the ambulance, called originally for Wayne, echoed off the stone building. The EMTs ran to the dockside and took control of Jesse’s medical situation.
Cid felt a warm blanket tossed over his shoulders, and he allowed himself to be cut free of the rope and led inside by Father Santos.
“Where’s Bridgeton?”
“He left just before the EMTs arrived,” Father Santos told him. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes…”
“Wayne?”
“He came around. He’s sitting on the steps in the grand foyer with Faye. What possessed Jesse to go out on the ice?”
“The keys. Bridgeton was getting rid of the keys.”
“I thought you had made copies of the keys.”
“Jesse doubted that the wooden replicas could turn the locks. I would have cast them in metal as soon as I had the materials. We would have found a way.”
“Maybe Jesse thought we didn’t have that kind of time,” Father Santos said.
The fog was clearing from Cid as he warmed up. Gary had raided the trailer and brought the first set of clothes he could find. They were Jesse’s, but they were warm. Father Santos helped him to change. Cid’s cold fingers refused to work properly.
“Murphy was there,” he said through chattering lips. “He cut through the ice… How did he get here?”
“We picked him up when we got your truck,” Father Santos said. “Stephen wouldn’t ride inside the cab with us. He still thinks I’m going to trap him and make him go into the light. When he arrived, he left to investigate the walnut grove. Sally told him about the acolytes who didn’t return in Daniel’s story.”
The second set of EMTs arrived. They wanted Cid to come along with Wayne, but he declined. He knew things were far from settled in the house. Father Simon went with Jesse but not before handing Cid the keys that were now wrapped in the prayer beads.
“Faye!” Cid called, fighting exhaustion, sitting down on the steps that Wayne had just vacated.
Faye appeared before him. “Did you warn the ghosts that the negative elemental is loose?”
“Blue Daniel and Jon told me they had done so.”
“The dark creature you seek was in the young man’s body,” Murphy announced, appearing behind Faye, causing her to jump.
“Hopefully he’s left with Bridgeton. Stephen, you’ve dealt with a negative elemental before,” Cid said.
“Very dangerous,” Murphy said.
“This one feeds like the Mind Flayer,” Cid told him. “Please be careful. And, Stephen, thanks.”
“What are friends for?” Murphy dismissed.
“Have you had a chance to look around?” Faye asked, finding her voice.
“This house is filled with ghosts of Eye-talians,” Murphy said amazed.
“There are also two Irishmen,” Cid said. “One is sweet on Faye.”
Faye blushed.
Murphy grinned. “I wouldn’t mind shaking the hands of the men who have helped you.”
Jon O’Connor and Blue Daniel appeared.
Murphy was a bit taken aback by Daniel’s skin hue but wisely said nothing. “Stephen Murphy,” he said, reaching his hand out.
“Were you a lumberjack?” Blue Daniel asked, shaking Murphy’s hand.
“No, a farmer who died cutting down a tree. They buried me with my axe.”
“At least they buried you,” Jon said, reaching over and extending his hand. “We’re stuffed here and there in this damn house.”
“Where did you come from?” Blue Daniel asked Murphy.
“Northern Illinois. Cid and I are neighbors. I rode down with the priests.”
“I’d love to share stories with you when you have the time,” Blue Daniel said.
Murphy looked at the ghost and nodded. “Let’s get you freed from this house first. I sense we don’t have much time.”
Cid accepted the cup of tea Father Santos walked over with. He didn’t question the logistics of getting a brewed cup of tea in a haunted house; he just wrapped his cold hands around the mug and
