“We left them in the hunter’s blind,” explained Hudson. “Had to move fast when we were transporting our furry friend.”
McGlazer unlocked the heavy-duty padlock on the equipment-shed door. Reminding himself that the phantasmic fungus was gone and it was okay to breathe, he eased the simple plywood door open. The punkers, the witches, the two boys and the lawmen all warily stepped back from it with him.
Ysabella went first, hoping the darkness of the stairwell hid her need to steady herself against the wall.
Soon, they all stood in the basement’s first room, waiting while McGlazer took the ancient candle lamp down from the door-side sconce and lit it.
“This is where you want to record your album?” Maisie asked Pedro.
“Our demo,” he corrected. “The studio guys will decide about the album.”
Dennis whistled a few notes and listened to their echoes. “So far, so good.”
“What if I get scared?” teased Jill.
“Don’t start!” from Stuart.
“I feel the residue of the malevolence that was here,” said Ysabella. “But it has gone.”
“Gone where?” Stella asked.
It was almost a minute before Ysabella, sliding her hand along the wall, stopped and faced her. “Somewhere in the ether.”
“Somewhere in time,” enjoined Maisie.
Ysabella went to the arched door at the far left from the entryway. “Beyond here, spirits once waited,” she said. “But no longer.”
They all watched her peer at the doorway in the dark, until Violina spoke. “Shall we cleanse it too, then?”
“Not now,” said Ysabella. She looked at Maisie. “Years ago.”
* * * *
The catacombs expedition party resurfaced to a bright sun reflecting off the yellow leaves of the nearby maple. A mantle of relief settled over veterans of the horror show it had once hosted.
“Not nearly as creepy as I remember it,” said DeShaun.
“I definitely prefer its current non-mushroom-freak state,” said Stuart, “and it looks like the rev is gonna let us work on the demo down there.”
He yanked a thumb back at the happy trio of punkers exchanging fist bumps. Dennis and Jill even hugged, only to have Pedro get between them like a boxing referee.
“What about your dad?” Stuart asked.
“He’s okay, but he’s been awful hush-hush since the woods.” DeShaun cast an inconspicuous glance at Yoshida. “And Yoshi’s acting kinda weird, don’t you think?”
* * * *
With everyone distracted and Violina finally in front of her, Ysabella held onto Maisie’s arm. The girl slowed her pace and clutched Ysabella’s hand. “Should we stop for a moment?”
“No,” answered Ysabella. “Just help me look strong.”
Violina overheard but said nothing. She was well aware of Ysabella’s weakened condition. For months, she had been working to manifest it. “Boys?” she called, gesturing at Maisie to join her. “How would you like to have high tea with a couple of witches?”
The teens needed only a second of deliberation. “Make it milkshakes and you got a deal, lady.”
Chapter 11
Before The Nightmare
“The religious freedom thing was touchy as all get out,” DeShaun began, as their waitress breezed away. “Bennington had traveled the world and learned about all different religions.”
“Somewhere along the way, Benny found connections between a bunch of ’em,” said Stuart. “He settled on the idea that most so-called religions were really just the same thing with different names.”
“That’s where you get the Saturn connection. Our boy knew it wouldn’t be an easy sell. He had to feel out his candidates to make sure they would at least accept his idea, if not necessarily toe the line on it.”
“The way the math adds up, Conal got wind of Bennington’s plan and tagged along on the trip to escape getting caught for a whole grocery list of nefarious deeds he had committed.” Stuart frowned. “Not a good dude.”
“What else can you tell us about Conal O’Herlihy?” asked Maisie.
“Conal was a butthole,” said DeShaun. “He got on Bennington’s good side, then came up with a cockamamie plan to take control of the whole deal.”
“Told his crew the Lord was on their side,” added Stuart. “But we’re not so sure he was a bible believer either.”
“Remember that mushroom we were talking about?” DeShaun explained about the hallucinogenic fungus from the Greek isle of Patmos that had been the main ingredient in murderous zealot Ragdoll Ruth’s poisoned candy.
Stuart picked up the narrative. “He and his crew started digging a cave under the church foundation, to grow the stuff and—get this—preserve their own bodies for resurrection.”
Violina gazed like a predator hungry for more.
“Yep. Pretty crazy.” The boys told the tale of the mushroom men they had encountered the year before.
“Back to way-back-when,” Stuart said, “Conal organized his coup.” Having only ever read the word and not heard it, Stuart pronounced it “coop.”
“Was he successful?”
“Yes and no,” DeShaun said. “There’s not much in the archives. It gets murky.”
“But here’s what’s key,” Stuart said. “The church is called Saint Saturn’s. And this is Cronus County.”
“My guess is, the factions eventually split. But what became of Conal and pals, nobody really knows.”
“Physically, anyway,” added DeShaun. “We’re pretty sure it was his ghost that possessed Reverend McGlazer last Halloween—and his crew that wore the mushroom suits last year.”
“You dear children,” muttered Maisie. “You’ve seen and been through so much.”
“Yeah, well, if you can help our town…” DeShaun began.
“It’ll all be worth it,” finished Stuart.
* * * *
Settlement era
By the time Friedrich Schroeder had driven his horse to the settlement’s dusty main street, he’d had considerable time to regain the composure that bled from him like Hezekiah’s blood when he found the poor man’s corpse in place of his bootzaman minutes earlier. A measure of his special wine helped, of course. He slowed his horse as he pondered the circumstances of making a hysterical announcement to the entire settlement.
One of their own, slain and posed in such sadistic mockery, was certainly a matter of grave concern. But did it warrant the reaction it would cause?
Other questions came to him as he and the horse trotted, then ambled their way toward town.
Could the Tsalagi—or Cherokee, as many had taken to calling them—have learned about
