Chapter 2 #2
Unlike in Miami, much like the ghosts in the Valley of Thorns, I lingered, my magic tethering me to the distant past. I took the time to behold the bodies, all killed from clean shots to the heart.
I gave the mercury dragons credit; they had taken their time, ensuring their accuracy and minimizing the suffering of their victims.
Perhaps the woman had wanted the family to suffer, but the men accompanying her had performed the deed with the same heartless determination of a firing squad.
I blamed them for their actions, but I found solace in their efficiency.
“Every time I return here, I wonder if I could have changed something.”
The woman’s voice startled me, and I realized the mother, as intangible as I, stood at my side.
If anything, she had more substance than I, as there was no outward evidence of my presence.
She, like the other spirits, might be mistaken for a living, breathing person.
“No, I don’t think so,” I replied, hoping my words might comfort her.
She regarded me with quiet interest for a while, her killers and her body frozen in a moment in time.
“I wondered if anything would ever change, and it has. You’re new.
I have returned to this moment thousands of times, questioning what might have changed our fate.
I never had an answer. That you agree there was likely nothing I could have done comforts me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I sighed, regarding the child twitching on the ground, her body destined to move for a little longer before her muscles stilled and the decomposition process began.
When I’d first learned the newly dead had a tendency to twitch and move for a while after death, I’d considered a change of career fields.
But then I’d learned to accept that bodies did as bodies did: the little movements and sounds following a fatal injury were a natural part of death.
“Would it bring you any peace to know that your killers have gone to their graves, too?”
While grim, she smiled. “They finally lost their little game, did they?”
“They angered the wrong dragons.” I pointed at the burly man who’d kidnapped me and faced Erik’s mother. “That one angered Mrs. Millson.”
“The commissioner’s wife?” The woman whistled. “She’s not one to take lightly. When did she get her hands on him?”
“She killed him in 2167.”
The woman crouched beside her daughter’s body, and time resumed its steady march. The killers took the woman and her husband away first, handling the corpses with little regard. They took more care with the little girl.
“You don’t want to witness what happens next,” the woman informed me in a solemn tone. “They attempt necromancy on us. For a short while, they even manage to give us short but false life. We were their first success.”
Necromancy. I scowled at the mention of the magic that had cost me so much. Then I remembered Monster. “Not all necromancy is evil.”
“No, it’s not. I know that. I even respect what they wish to do.
In a way, I forgave the woman because of her reasons for her actions.
I’ll spare you the trauma. Her child died, and she hoped to capture enough souls to bring her boy back from the grave.
So many tries, and it all ended in failure.
I’m glad for that, though. He was such a sweet little one, nothing like his mother. ”
I couldn’t help but wonder if the woman spoke the truth or if she had fabricated a tale she could accept as a reason for her death.
Time and effort would reveal the reality of the situation.
However, I could have her, if I asked the right questions, direct me to where I might find out more. “What’s your name?”
She sighed. “Do you think it will help? We’re already dead.”
I couldn’t blame her for resenting her situation. In her shoes, I would likely be belligerent about the situation as well. “I wouldn’t say I’m quite dead yet. I have purple dragon ancestors.”
“Oh, you poor thing. I’m sorry. My name was Abby Westlee. Abigail. My husband was Kent, and our daughter was Wisteria. After the flower. We both loved the flowers. We got married under wisteria blooms. I suppose it’s too much to ask for us to be buried underneath some wisteria.”
“It’s not too much to ask, assuming we can exhume your bodies.
” Figuring out which bones and skulls were theirs would be a trial, but there was no reason we couldn’t arrange for the entire mass grave to be given a shroud of wisteria for their proper burial, assuming they had no living family.
At the very least, I could make certain their family knew her final wishes. “I’m looking for survivors.”
“Oh, you walk a sad road. They don’t leave survivors for long, and those they do allow to live are treated poorly before they are killed. We were fortunate. Many others were not.”
That I could believe. “Where do you go from here?”
The woman pointed in the general direction of the Valley of Thorns. “Eventually, to there. That is where all roads end. It just takes some of us longer to get there than others. We were not the first. We will not be the last.” She eyed the burly man once again. “Mrs. Millson got him, did she?”
“He attacked her future daughter-in-law and she took great offense to it.” I glanced in the direction of the deceased leader of the clan. “Let’s just say the daughter-in-law’s father got a hold of her and leave it at that.”
“I guess their little girl died, too.”
I hadn’t, not yet at least. “She lived.”
“Do you think the killings will stop?”
“I hope so.” And if they didn’t, I would make them stop come hell or high water. “I’ll dig up every single grave they’ve made to see justice served.”
“You’ll be digging for a long time.”
“Yes.”
“Well, the best of luck to you. You’ll need it. A tip, if I may?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t bother looking long at us. That’s why we were chosen.
There was no one to miss us. We barely made enough to get by, and we were expendable and easily replaced.
” With a soft sigh, the ghost departed, fading away to nothing and leaving me to stare at her killers until they departed, taking their bodies and leaving nothing but flame and ruin in their wake.
* * *
Wednesday, May 13, 2167
The Valley of Thorns, The Fringe
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
With mournful reverence, I returned Wisteria’s skull to where I had found it, wondering if I might be able to divine which bones belonged to her parents.
I couldn’t fully trust Abigail’s ghost; I could likely believe she believed she spoke the truth, but I would need to search for answers on my own, and that meant checking the records for the existence of the mercury dragon’s lost son.
Before we finished, we would need to dig up grave after grave, searching for life where the dead lingered and gathered around their forgotten bones.
“Seriously? You got down there already? I was gone less than five minutes,” Erik complained. “What did I even get the rope for?”
“So you can help me climb out of here when I’m done, of course. Don’t be silly.” I couldn’t bring myself to laugh. “That mercury dragon woman, the mistress of that clan. What do you know about her?”
“More than I care to think about, why?”
“How old was she?” For her to have been in the vision, she had to be over a hundred years old, but how much older might make a difference in terms of our investigation.
“Do you want her life story or just her age?” Erik crouched at the side of the hole I’d expanded, and light shined down, the beam of his flashlight landing on Wisteria’s skull. “Ah.”
“Give me her life story, please. Maybe there’s something in there we need to know about.” Secrets would plague us; as often as not, victims wished to maintain their privacy on certain matters, even if it meant justice wasn’t served.
In Miami, I’d witnessed the abused protect their abusers for many reasons, love and fear among them.
Learning the truth of the killings would take time, but Abigail had provided me with an excellent starting place.
Our conversation wouldn’t lead me to the living victims, but I held a glimmer of hope that the dead might find their rest.
Something was better than nothing, and I would remind myself of that until I believed it.
“All right. Mercury dragons tend to have a short lifespan for dragons, living between two hundred and seven hundred years; their element is partially responsible for this, as it induces madness. This is important, as it leads to how Madam Merorie became the leader of the mercury dragons associated with that estate. Her father used to be the clan leader, and after her mother died from mercury poisoning, he waited for her to be of age, fifty years by their custom, before committing suicide.”
I winced. If either of my parents did such a thing, I would be inconsolable. “Did she have a good relationship with her parents?”
“Unfortunately, yes. She dabbled in necromancy for a while but had zero aptitude for it. She wanted to bring them back from their graves. Fortunately, those she approached reported her activities to law enforcement, and she was given a reminder that necromancy, while not explicitly illegal, wouldn’t accomplish her goals. She agreed to abandon her path.”
I stared at the corpses with a sinking feeling. “Except she hadn’t, not really.”
“It looks that way,” he agreed, sighing.
“Ten years after her father died, she met a mercury dragon from a different clan. They got married and had a child two years later. The child died at age five. A son. Like her father, her husband committed suicide, leaving Madam Merorie to lead the clan alone. I don’t know if he suicided before or after their son’s death, however.
Some say leading the clan gave her purpose. ”