MOON FALL (34 page)

"Some people are almost impossible to brainwash. Doug
was one of them, and he paid for it with his life."

''Brainwash?"

"Yes. Brainwashing, spell-casting, sorcery. Take your pick.
Do you ever wonder why it's so easy to forget about St. Gertrude's?
It's in your mind one moment and gone the next. There
are twelve nuns in the coven, any number of acolytes, many
recruited from the orphans, and one high priest, who is a very
powerful sorcerer. He and Lucy, his priestess, are capable of
things you cannot imagine."

"Dashwood is the priest," John said with satisfaction.

"Of course."

"What about Boullan?"

Minerva snorted. "You might call him the waterboy from
hell. He seems formidable, but that's just a touch of madness."
She paused. "He has no power, no magic, but don't get me
wrong: he could be dangerous in a purely down-to
-
earth way.
He likes to eye the girls, but I don't know if he's ever laid
hands on one. I suspect he has."

"How do you even know about him?"

"Remember your dream? I tried to visit you in your sleep
and came up against a door?"

He nodded slowly.

"It's a taxing procedure, but that's one way I know. The
other way, you'll understand much better. I have friends."

"The girl Mark mentioned?"

"Yes. Kelly is in great danger, I fear. The same as your son
.
I'm virtually certain they've marked her as the other sacrifice.
She has the gift, the same as Mark, and since they can't convert
her, they'll kill her."

"
Other
sacrifice?"

"A virgin female."

He nodded slowly. This was getting too weird. "What you're
telling me is useless, legally. If there's abuse going on, if a
victim would step forward, I'd have just cause for a search
warrant."

"No one will talk. They don't remember." She hesitated.
''Kelly might
-
she's not very susceptible to brainwashing, but
she doesn't really know anything of value."

John sat back, his feelings a mix of fascination and disgust.
He decided to keep things light until he sorted out his impressions.
"You said Emma Moonfall Lawson died here. Is this
the original Moonfall home?''

"Yes. Your great-grandfather was born here. Minerva was
the midwife."

''All the histories of the area say that the original Moonfall
homestead burned down."

She eyed him. ''Do you think I want some historical society
coming around trying to hang brass plaques on my front door?
Many, many years ago a self-appointed historian came around,
asking questions. She'd connected my last name with Emma's
middle name. I claimed there was no relation."

"But there is."

''Of course."

"How are we related?" he asked. "Are you from another
branch of Minerva's original family?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Well, then, tell me this. What was Minerva Moonfall's
maiden name?"

She colored slightly and years washed away from her face
with a coy smile. "You already know."

''Payne?"

"Yes. It means 'pagan,' you know."

"I know now." He studied her. How much was truth, how
much was senility, and how much was her sense of whimsy,
h
e had no idea. Whatever the mix, he realized he liked her,
liked the idea of being related to her. ''Are you my aunt, or
cous
in
, or ....? "

Minerva stared at him a long moment. ''Sara Hawthorne is
a wonderful young woman," she said abruptly. "She needs
you.
She needs y
our protection."

"You know Sara?"

"She used to visit me when she was a student. Her friend
Jenny died in her stead."

"You know about Jenny Blaine?" Finally, something he
could use.

"Of course I do, and yes, she was used in a minor ceremony,
then made to commit suicide."

"Sara thinks she was murdered
.
"

"She was."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It would if you better understood Richard Dashwood's
abilities to manipulate the mind." She rose and went to the
couch, sat down beside him, and took his hand in both of hers.
"Your friend Doug Buckman was forced to jump to his death.
Jenny and many other girls were murdered, by their own hands
or others'. You have no record of Jenny Blaine in your police
files, do you?"

''No."

"That's the beauty of their set-up. The sisters keep to themselves;
they keep their girls to themselves. Have you ever
wondered about their apple orchards, John?"

''No. Should I?"

"Even in the bad years, their trees never fail. They rely on
rain for irrigation, which no other orchard would do nowadays,
and they have bumper crops even during the worst droughts.
They advertise that their apples are organically grown, and that
is true. Worms wouldn't dare touch one, no blight ever strikes,
even in years when other growers lose entire orchards."

"What are you saying? That they use magic to grow apples?"

"They're organically grown, and when I say 'organically,'
I mean it literally. Those apples are fed blood. Human blood
and human flesh."

''Then why these sacrifices of Lawson males? Why risk
taking someone from town if they have such a supply of
orphans?"

"The orphans are merely fertilizer, for the most part. They
also sacrifice one at each equinox and solstice. As for the
Lawson boys, they have little access to young male virgins and
there's also the matter of the vendetta."

She had an answer for everything. He looked down at her
wrinkled hands covering his own. They were warm. "Minerva,
where do the nightf
l
yers figure in all this?"

"They are part of it"

"You know what they are, don't you?"

She laughed, a sad sound. "What they are is even beyond
my belief."

"Caspar Parker claims they're gargoyles. That they turn to
stone in the daylight."

''Do you believe him?"

''He was very drunk when he said it." He laughed softly
and shook his head. "I don't know what I believe. I know they
exist, and that animals that have been thought to live only in
myth have been discovered recently. I read about a giant sloth
that was discovered in South America a few years ago. The
natives in the region thought it was a powerful god and had
told stories about it for centuries, but there had never been any
proof of its existence before. And a species of horse that was
thought to be extinct for thousands of years was recently discovered
thriving in Tibet. Giant squid. sea serpents." He raised his
eyebrows and shrugged slightly. "Why not gargoyles? Bats
sleep in caverns during the day and come out at night. Other
animals hibernate in the winter. Why not a creature that sleeps
during the day in plain sight?" He smiled. "I draw the line at
their turning to stone, though."

Minerva nodded. "I call them 'nightf
l
yers' because 'gargoyles'
sound even more ridiculous. I have some odd ideas
about them, but they're only theories, and not worth talking
about right now. But you're right, they don't turn to stone
during the day because they've been flying in the daylight
again, just as they have before."

"Every twenty-four years."

"Exactly. John, there's precious little time left. You have to
save Mark, and you have to save yourself. And others as well.
I will do everything I can to help you."

"With magic?"

''Yes, and knowledge. I will help you remember what happened
when your brother died. Knowledge, as they say, is
power."

"Why won't you tell me about yourself? How did you inherit
this job, if that's what it is, from Minerva Moonfall?"

"It is my lot. It has always been and always will be. I'm
much older than you think I am."

"You're not implying you're ... " His words trailed off into
silence.

"That I'm your great-great-grandmother? Is that what you
think?"

He smiled tightly and shrugged. "You tell me."

''No. You will tell me when the time is right. For now, what
I will tell you is that I am a heal
er, a practitioner of the right-
hand path. I have developed certain abilities I was born with.
I have studied and wo
rked at it, and I am proficient.
I am quite
old. and it is duty, magic, and willpower that increase my
lifespan." She paused. "Perhaps willpower
is
magic. It is the
duty of a healer to pass on the knowledge to someone who can
use it. I cannot rest until I have trained an apprentice and put
aside my own power. Training takes years, and I have yet to
find my student. I have one in mind. however."

"That's what you're trying to do to Mark?" he asked, anger
rising.

"Yes and no," she said bluntly. "It is solely up to Mark. The
boy has the gift, but I believe he will turn it toward chemistry or
modem medicine. He needs more proof than I can offer. He'd
make a fine doctor, you know; a rare one with the insight to
see more possibilities than most. He might make great strides
in medicine."

John nodded. He had exactly those thoughts about Mark's
future himself. "If not Mark, then who?"

"The girl I mentioned. the orphan, Kelly. She is very raw,
but the abilities are within her, and she wants to learn."

"I see
-
" He shivered, suddenly freezing cold.

"It's all right, John." He heard Minerva's voice, felt her
hands, the only warmth on his body.

His teeth chattered. ''What is it?"

"Someone's after you. Are you wearing the amulet I gave
you?"

"N-no." He was growing colder, feeling like he was
immersed in ice water.

''I told you to wear it." She took away one of her warm
h
ands and plucked a charm out from under her collar, removed
it and draped it over his head. "Don't take it off, and make
sure Mark wears his.
Make absolutely sure.
"

Even his eyeballs felt frozen. Minerva put her other hand
down to his and he grabbed it, held tight, draining the warmth
from her.

"Hold on, John. It will pass." Minerva's voice was calm
and firm, her grip like iron.

Slowly, he felt warmth begin to seep into his fingers, up
through his hands and arms, into his chest, where the
chill had
been a knot constricting his heart. Minerva spoke unintelligible
words, something with a Celtic sound, very foreign, yet not.
Gaelic
perhaps, or Welsh, he didn't know, couldn't think.
Slowly his heart pumped warming blood up into his brain and
down into his abdomen, legs, and feet. And as suddenly as it
began, it was over. He looked at Minerva, saw her open her
eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and for a moment she looked
far younger than she normally did-
then, far older. ''What the
heck was that?"

"I told you," she said. "A spell. If you'd been wearing your
amulet, it would have repelled the sorcery, and you'd have felt
no more than a brief shiver."

"How?"

"You ask questions, just like your son. I don't
know precisely
how it works, I just know it does. Accept that, at least until
we get safely through October."