MOON FALL (36 page)

Kelly Reed stared at the glowing white figure that hovered
in the comer
.
It wasn't the crying ghost she had heard in her
room; this was something else, and she thought she knew what
it was: an infamous Lady in White.

She was frightened, barely able to control her trembling,
but Minerva had told her about the phantoms and how she'd
encountered this one more than once. Sometimes it did nothing
but float along through the forest or orchards, a simple ghost,
but at other times it was a revenant, fueled by a human enemy.

Kelly,
the voice called. Since appearing a few moments
before, the thing had repeated her name over and over until it
echoed in her head. Kelly clutched the amulet under her shirt.
It would protect her. It had to.
A revenant can hurt you only if
your fear allows it. It will tell you things, try to make you do
things you don't want to do. If you ever encounter one, ignore
it. Eventually it will go away.
Kelly remembered Minerva's
lesson as the phantom glided closer to her.

''Go away," she whispered, and turned her back on it.
Trembling fiercely, she felt her way to the wooden chair and
sat down facing the wall. "Go away."

Sara Hawthorne is dead, Kelly. So is the old woman. They're
dead, the life squeezed out of them. They're
f
loating in the pond
at the falls. The water is red with their blood.

No, she told herself.
It's trying to scare me, just like Minerva
said.
She even thought she knew who was doing the talking:
that old bitch Lucy.

She remembered the camera and wondered if all the nuns
were gathered around watching her, or at least listening, since
it was dark. Or maybe Marcia and Buffy and the rest were
laughing at her right now, waiting for her to crack. Anger
calmed her terror and she sat stolidly at the desk, even when
icy fingertips caressed her face and a frigid tongue licked her
neck.

The phantom moved right through the table to stand before
her. Its face was featureless except for the black eye sockets.
Then it opened its mouth, wide, wider, impossibly wide, barring
rows of triangular shark teeth.
No! You won't scream!
She bit
her tongue, telling herself it was an illusion,
just an illusion!
and then the phantom's mouth widened even more, yawning
over her, enveloping her. She heard herself screaming, as if
from a distance; then everything faded to black.

Sara had intended to return to the abbey hours ago, but after
lunch John Lawson had invited her to his house for dinner and
she'd impulsively accepted. After leaving the station, she had
a feeling she wouldn't make it back to town if she spent the
remainder of her
free time at St. Gertrude's. Somebody might tamper with her
car again
-
she was sure John was right about that
-
or the
sisters would assign her some time-consuming task. Something
would happen to spoil the evening.

So she spent the hours exploring Moonfall's shops, and when
she tired of that, Sawyer's Petting Zoo
.
It was a wonderful
autumn
afternoon and she relaxed and fed the sheep and goats
com from the vending machines scattered around the park. She
spent the last hour before dusk sitting on a bench, watching
the fluffy-tailed gray squirrels search the ground for acorns and
pine nuts to hoard for the coming winter.

At five o'clock she drove to John's house and was welcomed
by his son Mark, who was obviously trying to be polite but
was full of questions about St. Gertrude's and the nightflyers.
It was a little awkward; she didn't really know all that much,
plus she didn't know how much John wanted the boy to know.
She steered the conversation toward Minerva Payne, asking
him questions about the vials of herbs and tinctures in the old
lady's house. The boy seemed to know everything about them,
or at least, their medicinal purposes. In the next twenty minutes,
she heard an entire lecture on the antiseptic properties of myrrh,
aspirin, and wintergreen oil, and how witches knew about digitalis
and ephedrine long before doctors began using them for
heart disease and asthma. His knowledge seemed inexhaustible,
but it was fascinating nonetheless
.

John soon showed up bearing dinner: two pizzas, one with
everything, one Hawaiian-style, plus a bag of salad fixings, a
bottle of dressing, a six-pack of Coke, and two pints of Ben
and Jerry's New York Chocolate Chunk.

After the gourmet efforts of Richard Dashwood, John Lawson's
version of dinner was refreshing. She didn't have to worry
about which fork to use
,
the napkins were paper, not cloth, and
he offered her a choice of Coke from the can or in a glass with
ice, which was doubly refreshing. In contrast, Richard had an
endless supply of exotic teas and juices, and his efforts to
ply her with expensive wines combined with her own lack of
knowledge to play hell with her self-confidence
.

But it was the rich chocolate ice cream that impressed her
most of all: he had listened to her when she'd confessed her
addiction, and he had remembered.

The three of them talked about witches and nuns and gargoyles,
nothing too serious. Then, after dessert, Mark made
himself scarce, leaving Sara and John on the sofa, mellow
flames crackling in the fireplace nearby. John had left the choice
of music up to her, and she loaded his CD player with a mix
from his eclectic collection
.
A little Jelly Roll Morton, Scott
Joplin, and Charlie Parker for a classic jazz fix, followed by
Mozart's ''A Little Night Music," some early Springsteen and
recent Garth Brooks. John Lawson seemed to like everything
she did, and she was pleased to see no sign of the Wagnerian
epics that crowned Richard's opera collection. It was all so
refreshingly normal.

The music played softly w
hi
le they talked, filling one another
in on their lives. Finally, they reached the subject of St.
Ge
r
trude's, and John told her the details, as he remembered them,
of his brother's death. She talked about Jenny Blaine and some
of the runaways from her time as a student, and they both knew
that the blots in their memories were more massive than they
had realized. The missing pieces were similar in form and
nature, and it was something that had doubtlessly been done
to them. John told her about Minerva's offer to restore his
memory, and she encouraged him to do so.

Finally, the talking done, they indulged in some old-fashioned
necking. He could have had her in a minute, but he didn't make
the move, and she was glad. There were things that had to be
worked out in both their lives, and although she wouldn't have
resisted his advances
-
she wanted him too much for that
-
she knew it would be even better after they worked out their
individual problems.

Now it was past midnight and Sara, braver than usual, had
parked her car in the garage and walked to the dormitory. No
one was around, so she tiptoed down the hall to her old room,
the one Kelly now shared with Marcia Crowley. Opening the
door a crack, she peered inside. Neither Kelly nor Marcia was
in the room. Obviously, Richard hadn't come through-
at least,
not yet. She wondered briefly where Marcia was but decided
she wasn't that interested.

Disappointed at Kelly's absence, she went up to her room,
flipped on the light, and shoved the wedge under the door.

''Hi."

She whirled. "Kelly! You scared me half to death!"

The girl was sitting at the dining table, an open book in front
of her. "Sorry."

"You must have
c
at's eyes," Sara said, coming to the table
and setting down a small bag of groceries she'd picked up
during the day.

"No." She produced Sara's flashlight from her lap. "I used
this. I hope it's okay."

"Of course it is. Want an apple?" 'She asked, pulling a small
bag of Granny Smiths from the grocery sack.

"That'd be great." Kelly took the fruit, then hesitated. "Are
these from the nuns' orchard?"

Sara grinned. "Heck, no. They're from the Addams Family
Orchard way down the road. They're untouched by nuns."

"Is that really what it's called?"

"Yep." Sara sat down and took an apple for herself. "You
look thinner. Didn't you eat?"

''I ate everything they gave me," Kelly said, between ravenous
bites. "Bread and water. I'm star
v
ing."

"Are you serious? They told me you were getting three
squares a day."

"More like three
slices
a day."

"That's horrible." Sara got up and opened the refrigerator,
took out a quart of milk, a package of ham, mustard, and bread,
then quickly put together a sandwich for the girl. She brought
i
t to the table, along with the whole carton of milk and a cup.
"Eat. All you want."

''Thanks."

Sara studied the girl while she ate. There were dark patches
under her eyes, and her cheekbones stuck out under her thin
flesh. Kelly ate voraciously. When she finished the last crumb,
she looked up. "Thank you."

''You could have eaten something before I got here."

"That'd be stealing."

Sara doubted she'd learned her morals from the nuns. "Do
you want anything else?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine now."

''When did they let you out?"

"Sometime late today. I don't know exactly. I passed out
and woke up in my dorm room."

"You fainted?"

Kelly nodded.

''From hunger?"

''I wish. I got scared. God, Miss Hawthorne, it was horrible."

"Call me Sara when we're alone."

''Really?"

"Really. What frightened you?"

"You'll think I'm nuts."

''Try me."

"A ghost." Kelly eyed her. "Nuts, huh?"

"Not unless I'm nuts, too. I've seen one twice."

"Did it have teeth?"

"Teeth?"

"Yeah. Like Jaws. I tried to ignore it. Minerva told me all
about revenants, and that they go away if you don't get scared."

"Minerva told me that, too."

''Well, it kind of worked. Then it opened its mouth and I
saw those teeth. It swallowed my head, and I fainted."

"I don't blame you. I would've, too." Sara studied the girl,
wondering
h
ow much she should say, what would help and
what might do more harm. "If a revenant is directed by a
person, do you know who it might be?"

"Lucy," she said firmly. "At first I thought it was Marcia
and those guys, because they'd love to get me, but I decided
they don't have the brains. It's Lucy or the nuns, for sure."

Sara nodded. "What about Dr. Dashwood?"

''I dunno. Lucy said he got me out of the second week, so
I kind of doubt it."

"Don't trust him, Kelly."

She looked up in surprise. "Why?"

"I think he's been drugging me."

Kelly's eyes widened. ''Really?"

"Maybe. Did he tell you why he got you out?"

''Because he felt I'd learned my lesson." She rolled her eyes.

''He got you out because I promised to go out with him if
he did." Sara felt petty telling her this, but she needed to know
that Dashwood wasn't a knight in shining armor.

"You did that for
me?"

"I was worried about you." She finished her apple. "Kelly,
do you ever have problems with your memory?"

"What do you mean?''

''Do you realize sometimes that pieces of time are missing,
especially after you've been around Dr. Dashwood?"

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. ''Dashwood does this thing
with his eyes. I think he tries to hypnotize me, but it doesn't
work."

''Listen, Kelly, the sheriff says he might be able to do something
if someone will come forward. Feeding you bread and
water for a week is abuse."

The girl hesitated. "No. If it didn't work, the nuns would
really get on me, and if it did, they'd send me away."

"You don't
want
to be here, do you?"

"No, but I've been in foster homes and stuff, and it's jus
t
as bad. I don't want to leave Minerva. Or you."

Kelly looked ready to bolt, so Sara nodded. ''Okay, but if
you change your mind, tell me."

"I want to live with Minerva."

"She's very, very old. I don't know if she could take care
of you."

"I can help her."

''Maybe so. Kelly, Minerva asked me to tell you something.
She said that you shouldn't go through the woods to visit her.
It's too dangerous right now."

''I always go that way."

''Remember the day you got in trouble trying to get Mark's
jacket? One of the boys was killed by a nightflyer."

"Not Mark!"

"No. A boy named Pete Parker. Did you know him?"

Kelly shook her head. "No. Is Mark all right?"

"Yes. He was wounded slightly. The thing took a bite out
of his neck, but he's fine."

"Are you sure?"

Sara smiled. "Absolutely. I just saw him."

"Were you at the sheriff's office?"

"No. I had dinner with Mark and his father."

"And he's okay?"

Young love, thought Sara. ''Fine. He asked how you were,
too."

The girl beamed.

"Kelly, it's really important that you not travel through the
forest. A nightflyer might get you."

"But I
have
to see Minerva."

"I'
II take you tomorrow, if you think you can sneak away."

"Of course I can. I'll wait for you outside the front gate.
Behind the trees. What time?''

"Noon?"