Well said, Theo told her. But to get back to whats important, you should buy that piece. Your hair is so dark, a perfect contrast to the silver, and your eyes are such a deep bluelike the sapphires. It practically screams your name, Devin.
It is gorgeous, she agreed. I may.
It really does scream your name, Beth agreed. You have the perfect creamy skin for it, too. Ill wrap it up.
Hey, thanks for the compliments, but I dont even know what it costs, Devin said, laughing.
Not that much, really. Just bring me your booksif you have a box, well wind up about even.
Devin laughed again. Okay, done deal.
Beth took out the medallion and put it in a small box.
Well, Ive got to get back to writing. I just came out to buy birdseedwhich I still have to doand wound up walking around, Devin said. Seems like every time I look, somethings closed and something new has opened.
And we grow more commercial every year, Theo said sadly.
Its a commercial world, Devin said lightly. They want you to pay your power bill no matter what.
Beth put the box in a decorative bag and handed it to Devin. So how are you doing with that wretched old bird?
Poe? Devin asked.
Other people are left cats and dogsand your great-aunt left you a raven! Beth said, shaking her head. You know, I watched him until you came home after your aunt Mina died.
I do, and Im grateful, Devin assured her. Hes doing just fine.
How the hell long do those birds live? Beth asked.
I think they can get to be about twenty in captivity. Aunt Mina rescued him when he was a baby, so Id say hes about twelve now, Devin said. Hes a very cool bird. I like having company. I mean, its not that the cottage is so far out of town, but it seems like there are a lot of woods out there.
You need a cat, Beth said.
Or a dog, Theo suggested.
For the moment, I have Poe, Devin said.
Theo set a hand on hers. Its been nice to see you. Well all have to go to dinner one night.
Sure, Devin said, smiling and quickly extracting her hand. See you all later.
Her car was in the public garage off Essex, and she hurried to it. It wasnt a long drive down Broad and out to her cottage, but it did involve avoiding crowds of jaywalking tourists.
Parking, she studied her cottage in the woods. Technically, it was an old house, but it did have the white-walled, thatched-roof look of a cottage, and she was surrounded by a small forest of trees. When she had the fire going and smoke was drifting out of the chimney, it did look as if she lived in a home that belonged in a fairy tale.
As she opened the door and stepped in, Devin found herself smiling. Poe immediately let out a loud squawk. Unlike Poes raven, this bird didnt say nevermore. He only squawked. But he liked to sit on his perch and watch her. Sometimesthough he was nowhere near as attached to her as he had been to Aunt Minahe would even sit on her shoulder. She didnt mind; Aunt Mina had trained him. He kept his droppings discreetly deposited in his cage onto newspaper that was easy to replace.
Hey, buddy, she said, putting down her packages and walking over to the bird. She stroked his head through the bars the way he liked. Got your birdseed. All is well.
His cage was near the mantel, so she set the bag of birdseed on top while she fed him. When she was finished, she stepped back and smiled, thinking that it was time to make some changes. But it was hard. Shed spent so much of her childhood here in the cottage. Her parents had traveled frequently for work, and since Devin had loved Aunt Mina and her aunt had loved her, it had made sense for her to stay here.
Shed loved how different Aunt Mina was from her own parents and everybody elsesthat she collected unusual and beautiful things. Once, in school, Brent Corbin had told her that if shed just add a few more wacky family members she could join the cast of The Addams Family.
That was okay. Shed grown up with love, both here in Auntie Minas cottage and in the house her parents had ownedand still owned, actuallyan old Victorian near the wharf and the House of the Seven Gables. It had been rented out for years now, and it was completely different from the way she remembered it. While the cottage...
Despite the years, little had changed here.
Devin opened the box holding her beautiful new silver medallion and hung it around the neck of a marble bust of Madame Tussaud that sat on a pedestal near the fireplace. The bust had been made from a life mask of the tiny woman who had created so many wax images, including death masks of some of the victims of the guillotine. Aunt Mina had loved the woman because she had been so talentedand such a survivor. The pentagram suited her marble neck.
Guess I should get to work, huh? Devin asked the bird.
He was too busy eating to reply.
She booted up the computer. The world seemed silent. Too silent. She turned on iTunes and set the music to play randomly.
For long minutes she actually concentrated.
Then she heard the crying.
It was soft and heart-wrenchingso soft, she wasnt sure at first that she was really hearing anything at all. Next she thought it might have been part of the song that was playing.
But then a Bon Jovi hit came on, and she knew there was no soft sobbing in that hard-hitting rock song.
She muted the volume and listened. She was certain she heard it again. Very strange, since her nearest neighbor was a quarter of a mile away.
She walked to the door and opened itand thought she saw a woman in white disappearing into the trees.
Hello? she called out. Can I help you?
There was no answer. The leaves rustled as the breeze picked up, nothing more.
Please, do you need help? She stepped out onto the stone path that led from her house to the road.
No answer.
Because no one was out there, she told herself.
She turned and looked back at the bird. Poe was still playing with his seed, unconcerned.
And of course, the idea that there was anyone out there had almost certainly come from the fact that shed spent half her childhood, her most impressionable years, growing up with Aunt Mina. Not that her aunt had been crazyunless being delightfully full of fun and life could be called crazy. But Aunt Mina had been forever telling storiesstories about leprechauns and banshees and forest folk, and the arguments that went on between the tooth fairy and Santas elves.
Devin walked back in the house, trying to forget the sound of sobbing and give her attention back to Auntie Pim and the Belligerent Gnome.
It was wonderful that her books had sold out, she thought.
Thanks to her aunt, she not only had a wonderful place to live but shed found her true vocation. Shed done her duty as a junior reporter, but when Aunt Mina had suggested she try childrens stories, she had sat down and written one. Shed set her sights on reaching ten-year-oldsthe age shed been when Aunt Mina had first enchanted her.
Auntie Mina had been a practicing Wiccan. Her gardenwhile now in need of a woeful amount of carewas filled with a wide selection of herbs. Long before it had been popular to be Wiccan in Salem, Auntie Mina had been a healer and devotee of the old religion. While some in town mocked her, others came to her for advice, and with their aches and pains.
Devins parents were good Anglicans, but they were also a pair of hippies and were all for everyone believing as they felt they should, so theyd respected Aunt Minas religion. According to Devins father, There are real Wiccans, and theyre just as decent as everyone elseor not. And then there are commercial Wiccans. You knowthose people who come to Salem and open shops and claim to be Wiccans for a living. Hey, whos to judge? Your aunt helps everyone, whatever their beliefs. In my opinion, like she says, it doesnt much matter what we call the path or the light at the end of that path as long as were good people while we walk it, doing our best to help our fellow travelers.
Devin loved her parents. When shed left for school, theyd rented out their old home off Front Street and moved west to enjoy the mountains and sunshine of Boulder, Colorado.
Her own cottage was small but charming. It dated back to the early 1700s. There were just six rooms, all on the ground floor, with the parlor having a grand stone fireplace and old, unfinished woodwork all around. The room was decorated with Aunt Minas various treasures: crystal balls, elf-shaped incense holders, gargoyles, raven bookends, a pair of medieval mirrorsthe bust of Madame Tussaud, of courseand all sorts of other items suited to a slightly crazy but very sweet Wiccan.
Devins first book, Auntie Pim and the Gregarious Ghost, sat nicely in the shelf alongside her second book, Auntie Pim and Marvelous Martian, contained between the raven bookends.
Looking at the books, she was glad that Aunt Mina had lived to see the first one published. Shed been so proud. Thinking of her aunt made Devin smile. She couldnt be too sadAunt Mina had died at the grand old age of one hundred and one. Shed enjoyed great health until the night shed said she was tired, sat in the old maple rocker before the fire and simply died. Devin had still been working for the paper at the time, but her mom had come for a visit because Aunt Mina had called her. Aunt Mina hadnt been alone. Devin was glad about that, too.
Sometimes Devin thought she saw her aunt peeking out at her from around a corner with a mischievous smile.
But then, thanks to Aunt Mina, shed thought shed seen the dead before. That was because she really did owe everything to Auntie Mina, whod been the best storyteller ever. When she had taken Devin to the Howard Street Cemetery where old Giles Corey had been pressed to death and told his story, Devin could have sworn that she saw the old man standing among the tombs, leaning on a cane, his expression thoughtful as the breeze rushed through his thin gray hair.
Auntie Mina had often told her with a wink that it was possible to speak with the deadbut only when the dead wished to speak. And of course, shed added, with another wink, only special people received the talent to see through time and space, and hear the dead when they spoke.
The books are doing so well, Auntie Mina, she said aloud. Theyre really your books, you know.
It helped, of course, that she worked with a wonderful artist, Drew Wicker, who lived in nearby Marblehead.
She sat back down at her computer, but just as she got comfortable, the sound came again. It was a woman crying. Definitely.
Poe, is that you? she demanded aloud, even though she knew the crying was coming from somewhere farther away.
The bird, as if indignant, looked up, cocked his head and squawked in protest.
Okay, thats itno way I can concentrate now, she murmured to herself.
She started out of the house again and then remembered that while she considered her neighborhood safe, bad things did happen. Theyd found a murdered woman just two weeks ago in Swampscott.
Most of the details had been kept out of the paper, but she knew the woman had been young. Maybe in her early twenties.
Something itched at her memory. And then she recalled the incident that had been nagging at her.
It had taken place a little more than a decade ago. And it hadnt been in Salem; it had been in Peabody or Marblehead or somewhere. A high school girl had been found murdered in the woods.
The details had been kept out of the paper then just as they had been nowthe newest victims name hadnt been revealed yetbut she knew one factor both women had in common.
Both womens throats had been slit.
Surely, it was impossible that the two incidents could be related, not with so many years in between.
Okay, Poe, freaking myself out here, huh? she said aloud.
It was only about nine at night, and since they were on daylight savings time, there was still a little glow of light in the sky.
Its still light out, for heavens sake, she said.
Poe squawked.
Maybe I do need a dog. A large one, she murmured.
Poe protested again.
Okay...
She looked around and then headed into the bedroom and grabbed one of her old hockey sticks out of the closet and started out. No sense in being stupid. I can wield a wicked hockey stick.
She heard the sobbing again. It was coming from the trees to the west of her house, from the little stand of trees that separated her from her neighbor.
Please, Im trying to help you, she said softly. Hello? Are you lost? Are you hurt? If youll just let me help you...
She walked into the trees, then began to question her own wisdom.
The sky was darkening. Beneath the trees the light was all but gone.
She tightened her grip on her hockey stick.
And then she saw her.
She was young, a slight blond woman, wearing a black dress and a shawl that looked to be of the Puritan period. She was peeking out from between two trees.
There was nothing unusual about her outfit. This was, after all, Salem.
Hey, there you are. I dont know whats wrong, but you can come in and we can call someonesomeone to come get you. Someone who can help, Devin said.
The young woman looked at her with enormous brown eyes. She shook her head and began to sob again.
And then she disappeared into the trees.
The woman might have been twenty or twenty-oneor she might have been a teenagerbut she certainly didnt look dangerous. Determined to help her, Devin headed back to her cottage and swept the electric lantern off the mantel. She hurried back out, turning the light on as she went.
Im not leaving you out here! she called. Come on, speak to me, please.
She headed toward the spot where she had first seen the woman. She didnt hear sobbing anymore, but the woman couldnt have gone far.
Maybe she was a foreign tourist who didnt speak any English and had gotten lost.
Maybe shed been on a date or gone out with friends who had decided it would be fun to explore the old cemetery down the road from Devins cottage, and she had gotten lost and ended up terrified.
Maybe some jerk had just driven her out here and dumped her.
Or maybe...
Devin let out a shocked, ear-piercing scream.
The woman lay in a tiny open area between several large trees with gnarled branches. She was faceup, arms and legs outstretched, so her body resembled the design of a pentagram.
Her sightless eyes stared up into the darkness of the night. On her chest was a silver chain with a medallion.
Much like the silver pentagram she herself had just purchased.
But that seemed like nothing.
Because...
Around her throat...