Edgewise (30 page)

“I'm really sorry, Bennie. I have so much to do. But do you think I could see that land title? I think it might be worth mentioning in our promotional material.”

Bennie stood up and went across to his filing cabinet. “You know that we really miss you here at Capitol, don't you, Lil? As soon as you've managed to put all of your family tragedies behind you . . . you're more than welcome to come back.”

“That's good of you, Bennie.”

“I didn't really want to lay you off—you know that. But with all that negative feedback I was getting from the clients, what could I do? People are so lacking in human understanding, don't you think?”

“Oh, people are unbelievably callous.”

He lifted out a folder marked
MYSTERY LAKE LEGALISTICS
, opened it, and took out a copy of the land title. “There . . . there's nothing very special about it. It's just a plain old land-title certificate.”

“Still, I'd like to include some mention of it. I think people like to know the history of the property they've bought. Okay if I make a copy?”

“Sure.” He leaned over and clicked his intercom. “Janice, do you want to come in here and make me a copy for Mrs. Blake? Thanks.”

While his secretary was copying the land title, Bennie came and sat on his desk, very close to Lily. “How are you really, Lil? You're as beautiful as ever, but I have to say that you're looking a little
strained
.”

“Well, as you can imagine, things haven't been very easy.”

“Why don't you and me start over? I'd love to take you out to dinner. Then maybe we could go to the Fine Line Café for some folk music. I'm really into folk music. Bet you didn't know that.”

“No, Bennie. Can't say that I did.”

He bent forward and awkwardly kissed her on the forehead. “You do things to me, Mrs. Blake,” he whispered, hoarsely, and managed to spit on her left cheek as he did so.

She returned home just before two
P.M
., and less than five minutes later Special Agent Kellogg arrived, driving a black Jeep with dark-tinted windows and no license plate.

He came into the house carrying what looked like a very large black flashlight.

“Is that it?” asked Lily.

“This is it. Made by GaGa Security of Korea, believe it or not. You hold it up like this, twist the safety ring in the middle, then press the butt. The net comes flying out, spread by weights. I've used it twice, and both times it was amazing. Stopped one suspect who was six-five and three hundred pounds and going totally berserk.”

Lily held up a manila envelope. “And this is a copy of the land title, courtesy of Bennie Burgenheim at Capitol Realty. Creep.”

Lily had asked her friend Ettie Lindborg to take care of Tasha and Sammy for the rest of the day, which Tasha and Sammy didn't mind at all, because the Lindborgs owned two ponies and five dogs.

She drove them to the Lindborg house, which was a sprawling ranch-style property overlooking the lake, with white-painted stables and a barn.

“What time are you going to pick us up?” asked Tasha.

“I'm not sure. Not too late, I promise.”

Sammy said, “Make sure it's after supper. Mr. and Mrs. Lindborg always have fried chicken for supper and it's scrumptious.”

“I don't think they
always
have fried chicken for supper. But—okay, then. After supper. Just don't blame me if they have tuna bake.”

She held them close—Sammy first, and then Tasha—and she breathed in the smell of them. She might never see them again, and the thought of that was almost more than she could bear.

They walked up the curving driveway toward the house, and Ettie opened the front door and waved to her.

“ 'Bye, Mommy!” called Sammy. “See you later!”

Tasha turned around, too, but didn't say anything. Tasha knew that this was no ordinary afternoon. Lily blew her a kiss, and then climbed back into her SUV with tears in her eyes.

Lily and Special Agent Kellogg spent the rest of the day preparing themselves. Lily scanned the land title on her computer, and altered the name on it from “Kraussman Developments, Inc.” to “George Iron Walker,” as well as changing the dates. The finished title wouldn't have deceived a lawyer, but that wasn't what she was trying to do. She was simply trying to buy them two or three minutes of time, so that they could trap the Wendigo.

Special Agent Kellogg took down the large mirror from the hallway and stowed it in the back of Lily's Rainier. He fastened two wires to the eyelets on either side of the frame, so that when she opened the Rainier's rear door, the mirror would be hoisted up into a vertical position. He went upstairs to her bedroom and took her cheval mirror off its stand, wedging it into the back of his Jeep.

He tested the mirrors by parking his Jeep at right angles to Lily's Rainier. Lily came out to watch.

“Perfect,” he said, peering at himself in both mirrors. “Whichever way the Wendigo turns, we'll still be able to see it. Then—
pow
!—I'll net it, and—
varoom
!—you'll drive off with it.”

Lily took hold of his arm. “Do you think this is crazy?” she asked him.

“Of course it's crazy. But how else do you deal with a spirit that's half in one world and half in another?”

“You don't have to do this, Nathan. I don't want to be responsible for anything happening to you.”

“Lily,” said Special Agent Kellogg, looking at her with his different-colored eyes, “I've been shot at; I've been stabbed; I've been beaten half to death with a scaffolding pole. This kind of thing—it's what I've been trained for, It's what I do.”

A large grayish-green cloud began to slide slowly over the sun, like glaucoma, and the afternoon grew gloomy and chill. Special Agent Kellogg said, “Four o' clock. What time do you want to go to Mystery Lake?”

“Soon. It takes at least forty minutes to get there.”

“Okay. Guess this is it, then.”

“Nathan . . .”

“No need to say anything, Lily. Not until it's all over.”

They drove due westward on the Olson Memorial Highway, Lily in front and Special Agent Kellogg close behind. The sky became darker and darker, and a fine snowy rain began to fall. By the time they reached the turnoff for Mystery Lake, the rain was so heavy that Lily could hardly make out the sign.

The road led uphill, past a series of smaller lakes, and into the forest. It had been a logger's road originally, and it ran almost completely straight for over seven miles, with dense pines on either side. In some places the trees overshadowed the road so much that the asphalt was still dry.

Lily's cell phone warbled. “You'll be able to build up a fair lick of speed along here,” said Special Agent Kellogg.

Lily was so nervous that she had to clear her throat before she spoke. “Let's hope so.”

At last the road rose higher, and they were clear of the trees. Below them, and off to their left, lay the steel-gray water of Mystery Lake. The snow-filled rain was blowing diagonally across it, ruffling the surface, and small breakers were nagging at the rocks.

Lily could see the natural inlet where the marina was going to be built—and, on the far side of it, the narrow hook of land where Haokah had appeared to Little Crow.

George Iron Walker's Subaru Forester was parked on the very end of the spit, with its amber marker lights on. Lily followed the road around the inlet, and then turned around and backed up her SUV on to the spit, so that it was facing inland. Special Agent Kellogg turned around, too, so that his Jeep was parked at right angles to her.

“That's it,” said Special Agent Kellogg, on his cell phone. “Perfect positioning. Don't forget to leave your engine running.”

Lily climbed down from the driver's seat, but left the door open so that the headlights-on reminder kept up a monotonous chiming. She raised the hood of her dark-blue duffel coat and buttoned it up to the neck. Special Agent Kellogg got out of his vehicle, too, and gave her a thumb's-up signal.

At the far end of the spit George Iron Walker appeared from one side of the Subaru, and Hazawin from the other. George Iron Walker was wearing a black ankle-length oilskin coat, which flapped noisily in the wind. Hazawin was dressed in her usual embroidered sheepskin.

Lily walked four or five paces toward them, and then stopped. George Iron Walker waited for a few moments, and then approached her, with Hazawin following him closely.

“Who is this man?” he asked her, pointing toward Special Agent Kellogg.

“A friend, that's all. I didn't want to come out here all on my own.”

“Very well. I hope he realizes what an historic moment this is.”

As George Iron Walker spoke, lightning flickered on the far side of the lake, and there was a low grumble of thunder.

He looked up. “Portentous weather for portentous times. You do have the land title?”

“Yes.”

He held out his hand, but Lily said, “William first. I'm not giving you anything until I know that he's safe.”

“You don't trust me? I gave you my word, didn't I? I gave you my solemn promise as a Mdewakanton.”

“William first. Then you get the title.”

George Iron Walker turned to Hazawin. “All right. Let's have the child back.”

Hazawin reached into her bag and took out her two human thighbones. She lifted them up, one in each hand, and tilted her head back. Lightning crackled again, much nearer this time, and a drum roll of thunder followed almost at once.

Hazawin called out in a monotonous, singsong voice, “Wendigo, I ask you to bring us the child that you have hidden. Honor is satisfied. The promise has been kept.”

She tapped the bones together in a series of complicated staccatos. “Wendigo—fold back the tepee of time and space. Bring us the child that you took to the other side. Wake him, lift him out of his dream, and bring him to us.”

For nearly half a minute there was no response. But gradually Lily became aware of a high-pitched hissing. Then she saw a nervous shuddering of silvery light close to Hazawin's right shoulder. First of all it formed diamond patterns, which danced and jumped and lit up the thickly falling snowflakes. But as the hissing grew louder, she gradually began to distinguish the outline of the Wendigo, with its long distorted face and its gargoylelike shoulders. She stepped back—first one pace, then another, and another.

“You don't have to be afraid, Lily,” said George Iron Walker, raising his hand. “You've settled your account. The Wendigo won't hurt you now.”

For a split second she saw the Wendigo clearly and brightly, face-on. It had a human head, but highly distorted, with a wide jaw and a tapered forehead, as if she was lying on the ground and it was staring down at her. When she looked at it, she felt a sudden surge of dread in its purest form. She felt all the wildness and desolation of the north woods, where animals spoke and trails disappeared and nothing was ever what it appeared to be. She felt the terror of being human, in a world teeming with spirits and illusions.

“Wendigo,” said Hazawin, rapping her bones yet again. “Bring us the child, Wendigo. Honor is satisfied. The deal has been done.”

The Wendigo turned sideways, and instantly vanished. Lily couldn't see anything where it had been standing except the lake and the snow. Lightning flickered yet again, and this time the thunder burst right over their heads—so loud that Lily instinctively ducked.

“Wendigo!” Hazawin repeated.
“Wendigo!”

The Wendigo turned back to face them again, and this time, to Lily's astonishment, it was holding little William in its arms, as if it had simply brought him in from another room. William was still dressed in the same corduroy romper suit that he had been wearing when Lily had been struggling to release him from his car seat. He looked very pale. His eyes were closed, and his arms and legs were dangling limply.

“William!” said Lily. “You
bastard
, George, what have you done to him?”

But George Iron Walker said, “Nothing at all, Lily. He's been asleep, that's all.” He went across and lifted William out of the Wendigo's shimmering arms, and as he did so, William opened his eyes and looked around him, and kicked his legs.

“Here,” said George Iron Walker, bringing him over.

“My God,” said Lily. She took William and held him up in front of her. William frowned at her but he didn't cry. He was still too sleepy.

“Is he okay?” called out Special Agent Kellogg.

“He's fine. He seems to be fine. Let me just put him in the truck.”

She carried William back to her Rainier, opened the door and sat him on the backseat. He promptly lay down sideways and put his thumb in his mouth. He still didn't cry, though Lily thought that he would have done if he had known what had happened to his daddy and mommy.

“Now, please, the title,” said George Iron Walker, holding out his hand.

Lily took the manila envelope out of her coat and handed it to him. As she did so, she glanced quickly to his right, where she had last seen the Wendigo. It was standing edgewise now, but she could still see a faint ripple of light. She glanced back at Special Agent Kellogg, too, and tilted her head to indicate that the Wendigo was still there, and that she knew roughly where it was. Special Agent Kellogg gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

George Iron Walker opened the envelope and drew out the land title. He looked at it briefly and then said, “Yes . . . this is the right title. Is the transfer all legal?”

“Completely. This piece of land belongs to you now. I hope it brings you much joy.”

“There's no need to be bitter, Lily. It doesn't suit you.”

“You expect me to be happy? Anyhow, we're going now. Let's hope we never have to meet again.”

While they were talking, Hazawin had taken a small iron bowl out of her bag and set it down on the rocks. Now she produced a leather pouch fastened with a drawstring, which she opened up—tipping the contents into the bowl. They looked to Lily like small lumps of dark-green wax.