2
Access to the ferry was made up of a pier and floating dock.
The pier was connected to the shore and secured with pylons sunk into the riverbed.
The floating dock, which contained the currency exchange booth and access to the ferry, was connected to the pier in a way that made it easy to separate the two.
At first Beth thought the arrangement was to accommodate the rise and fall of the river, and that might be part of it.
Then she realized that any attempt at theft could be thwarted simply by detaching the dock and setting it adrift.
That would leave the person in the booth vulnerable to a thief who would, most likely, be armed with some kind of weapon, but perhaps it was assumed that person would jump into the river and brave the currents until being rescued.
She reassessed her thinking when the woman in front of her stepped aside and she got a good look at the individual in the booth.
A woman. Maybe. Long hair that was a steel gray mixed with white. Stringy muscles in the arms, but those muscles gave the impression of strength rather than weakness. The face didn’t register as male or female, and the voice had a pitch that could go either way.
“First timer?”
“Yes.” Beth handed over the money Forrester had given her and asked for the coins per his instructions.
“Police?”
“Yes.”
“On business?”
“Yes.”
“Seeing Lucas Frost?”
“Yes.”
“Pay the Ferryman a silver coin.”
Beth tucked the other coins into her pockets and kept a silver one in her hand as she carefully stepped onto the ferry.
There was some seating outside, and it looked like there was some seating on the upper deck, but most of the ferry was a cabin with seats and large glass windows.
Next to the entrance was a small black cauldron with a padlocked lid that had a slit for the coins and a sign that read Pay the Ferryman.
The honor system of payment—or a test?
Did the crew keep watch somehow? She hadn’t seen anyone who looked like they worked on the ferry, but someone had to secure the lines that held the ferry to the dock, and someone had to cast off when the ferry was ready to leave. And someone had to be at the wheel when the ferry crossed the river.
Unless the ferry was sentient and crossed the river by itself.
Stop it. You’re just spooking yourself.
But the possibility gave her a tiny thrill.
Beth dropped the silver coin into the cauldron and chose an indoor seat next to a window.
Two young men came in—late teens or early twenties. One of them gave her a look and hesitated, as if considering making a move on her. Then he glanced at the person who had taken the seat behind her and joined his friend in seats across the aisle.
“I wonder what happens if you don’t toss a coin in the pot,” the boy said loudly, as if volume equaled bravado.
“Nothing good comes from cheating the Ferryman,” a voice replied quietly.
The voice came from whoever was sitting behind her. Something about that voice made Beth think of someone trying to claw their way out of a grave.
That voice took the sass out of the young men. They remained hunched and wary for the entire ride to the dock at Wyrd.
Before leaving the precinct, Beth had studied the map of Wyrd that was stapled to the wall in the special team’s area.
The island looked like a human skull in profile, and the only things identified in pencil on the map were Destiny Park, which was located where the eye socket would be, and Destiny Bay.
The whole interior of the island was blank. Unknown. Forbidden?
Beth pushed that thought away. She didn’t have time for mist and bones and graveyard stones, despite how much shadowy and creepy things fascinated her.
What would her colleagues say if they saw her box of drawings and prints, images that gave her a shivery thrill every time she looked at them?
She’d almost been thrown out of the police academy because Bonnie Wilson kept writing letters to the administration, telling everyone that Beth was an “unnatural child with a dark, bent nature.”
Fortunately, the psychologist at the academy hadn’t believed that having a taste for fantasy art was unusual or a cause for concern, pointing out the number of people who attended fantasy conventions every year.
But Beth had wondered if Bonnie’s letters had influenced someone higher up the chain of command, and that had limited the jobs available to her after graduation—and that was the reason she had ended up at Penwych’s 13th precinct under Captain Forrester’s command.
She thought she caught a glimpse of someone securing the lines when the ferry docked on the island side of the river, but other passengers were gathering up belongings and moving about, so she wasn’t sure she’d seen anything.
Then she stepped off the ferry and, feeling a pang of disappointment, wondered if Wyrd was just a strange tourist attraction.
A long stretch of golden sand. To the right of the dock, she noticed buoys evenly spaced in the water.
Markers to indicate a safe place to swim?
She’d heard the Fate River had strong currents, and there had been bodies that had been swept out to sea, only to be returned elsewhere along the island’s shore.
As she followed the boardwalk that kept her off the sand, she noted the row of cabins above the beach on her left.
Rentals? Or the homes of whoever worked at the hotel that was on her right?
The hotel gave her the impression of luxury and expense, but that could be just the difference between cabins that looked like they’d emerged from the ground and something so obviously, and shiningly, human.
Of course it was human. And so was the rest of this place.
Then she saw the man standing at the end of the boardwalk, watching the arrivals. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure there was anything human on this island. Which was…foolish, bordering on hysterical. She was a cop, for pity’s sake. She didn’t do hysterical.
She also usually didn’t have a fanciful turn of mind, despite being drawn to the shadowy strange, so maybe instinct was trying to tell her something she couldn’t put into words.
A tall man with a perfect amount of muscle for his size, with black hair, blue eyes, and lightly tanned skin. He wore jeans, work boots, a leather jacket, and a blue chambray shirt.
He looked right past her and lasered his focus on the two young men who were jostling each other and starting to get rowdy—no doubt as a way of blowing off steam after the uneasy ride out here.
They saw him—and Beth could feel their bravado wither, making her glad she wasn’t the focus of that man’s attention.
Then that focus settled on her when she reached the end of the boardwalk.
“Forrester sent you?”
Cool air after summer heat. Heavy silk laid over grass. Lightning and summer storms. A voice designed to make a person want the wild—want to absorb a taste of something feral.
It was also the voice of a ruler powerful enough to demand absolute obedience—and receive it.
“I’m Detective Fahey,” Beth replied. “You’re Mr. Frost?”
“Lucas Frost, yes.”
Must be more than one Mr. Frost, then.
Where the sand changed to grass, dirt paths branched out from the boardwalk. One headed toward the cabins; one headed toward the hotel. The last one headed straight toward something unseen.
“This way,” Lucas said, taking the straight path.
“I’m here to get some information about a ghost gun that was used in a multiple shooting.” Beth lengthened her stride to keep up with him.
“I know.”
“Are you psychic?” The words sounded snarkier than she’d intended, but given the way she’d been picked for this assignment, she still expected some kind of prank.
“Not on this occasion,” he replied. “Your captain called and asked me to meet you at the dock since this is your first visit to Wyrd.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “Sorry. I’m the new guy at the precinct and still settling in.”
“You’re not a guy; you’re a woman.” He stopped walking and studied her. “This is Wyrd, Detective Fahey. Don’t be careless with your thoughts or words. Not here.”
Threat? Warning? She wasn’t sure, but his words chilled her.
The path was on a mild incline—just enough to block the view of what lay ahead.
When they reached the top, Lucas stopped again.
There were a handful of food stands near small open-sided pavilions that held tables and chairs.
There were also a few picnic benches. And there were benches in the open for people who wanted to sit and enjoy the view.
Some benches faced the river; others faced the park that spread out below her.
“That’s Destiny Park. This area”—Lucas waved a hand to indicate the ground where they were standing—“and the area that includes this beach, the hotel, and the cabins is considered neutral ground—at least during the day.”
“And the dock?”
He shook his head. “That is the Ferryman’s domain.” He headed toward a large moon gate, the biggest one she’d ever seen. “Visitors can go through the moon gate to reach the pavilion, or they can go around. Their choice determines what doors in the pavilion will be open to them.”
“I don’t see a sign explaining the choices.”
“There isn’t one. Prey instinct provides a better understanding than words.
” A beat of silence. “People who come purely for fun tend to avoid the moon gates in the park—especially this one. However, your quest requires you to go through this gate.” Another beat of silence. “Or you can choose to walk away.”
Beth had seen photos of moon gates in gardens. Except for being larger, this one didn’t look any different.
Gray stones, she thought. The color that endures.
Was that a quote from something distantly remembered? Why did she think of it now?
She didn’t see any marks or symbols on any of the stones, including the keystone. Nothing to tell her what was supposed to happen when she walked through the opening.
Drawing in a deep breath, Beth stepped through the moon gate—and felt an odd tingle. Not unpleasant, just…odd.
Frost wasn’t looking at her as she went through the gate. He watched something on the stones. When Beth turned to look, she saw symbols on some of the stones, fading too fast for her to identify any of them.
But they seemed to mean something to Frost.
“You don’t have to go through the moon gate?” she asked when Lucas headed for the pavilion.
“No.”
She noticed people walking down terraced slopes to reach the park without going through the pavilion.
Unless there were ramps discreetly tucked away behind some landscaping, the only way down to the pavilion itself was a double set of wide stairs.
And with every step she took, she felt that odd tingle.
The pavilion had the feel of an old place lovingly tended.
The long, wide central aisle had some conventional lighting, but it was also lit by sunlight coming through the stained-glass skylights.
The open doors at the other end revealed a statue that must be the centerpiece of an ornamental lake.
On both sides of the aisle were archways that opened on to rooms. Since one discreet sign said Tarot, Beth assumed these were where the practitioners of the supernatural did their business.
Frost stepped inside. Beth followed.
To the right of the entrance was a table made from a slab of polished, free-shaped wood balanced on…
Beth wasn’t sure what the creatures carved from other slabs of wood were supposed to be.
Something about them made her queasy, and she couldn’t force herself to look at them long enough to focus on details.
The box on the table was also made of wood and elaborately carved, but it was beautiful, and she released her breath in a sigh of pleasure.
A sign next to the box read: One for silver, three for gold.
Lucas gestured to a wooden wheel that was also on the table.
“After you put a coin in the box, you turn the handle on the wheel, and a small disc with a number comes out of the slot. The number indicates the door and the individual who will read your fortune. If you put a gold coin in the box, you can turn the wheel three times for three numbers. Many do when they come here for fun. If you seek an answer from the Ladies Three, you put a gold coin in the box and take one of those bone discs.” He pointed at a bowl beside the wheel.
“I’m here on business, Mr. Frost.”
“If you want answers, Detective Fahey, you will put a gold coin in the box and take a bone disc. That is the only way to see the Ladies Three.”
Beth dropped a gold coin in the box and took a disc. “What kind of bone is it?”
“The Ladies determine how many questions you may ask. Do you want to waste one by asking about a disc?”
“No.” Beth tried to smile. “None of this was covered at the police academy or the extra training to become a detective.”
“It wouldn’t be.” Frost headed for the other end of the pavilion. “This way.”
The archways on the left-hand side of the pavilion had signs and numbers to indicate the practitioner’s specialty: tarot, numerology, astrology, colors, palmistry, and gems and crystals. The last archway simply said Cards, which sounded like it wasn’t the same as tarot.
There were archways on the right, but those were darkened spaces—an unnatural dark, since there should have been enough light coming in to reveal something about whatever was beyond the arches.
Halfway down the length of the building, they reached another archway. Frost stepped aside and indicated that she should go through.
“Start on the left,” he said. “Put the bone disc in the bowl on that table and follow the instructions.”
Beth entered the room and tried not to stare at the three women sitting behind three tables.
They looked similar enough to be sisters, or at least closely related, and they looked gorgeous one moment and ugly the next, as if Beth’s eyes couldn’t settle on what they were seeing. Interesting women. Arresting.
Terrifying.