The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)(61)

A quick glance at the map assured me that I was still some distance from our rendezvous point, and yet I could sense Kroll Cemetery as though it were a living, breathing entity. Such a notion would have seemed strange even to me a few days ago, but now I wondered if I really had crossed a threshold.

The noise in my head began as a low rumble that ebbed and flowed as the vehicle bumped along the tracks. Not the droning of Micah Durant’s bees, but a humming of what I imagined to be the dark emotions of all those trapped souls. I could feel the vibration all the way through my being. My own heart started to pound in unison, as if I were becoming one with that pulsating throng.

The awareness intensified as a gust of wind blew through the trees, rippling the leaves in an isolated pattern that reminded me of a wave crashing to shore. As the undulation swept toward me, the windows fogged and the whole car began to tremble as though caught in a powerful vortex. The air grew thick and fetid and flies began to gather on my windshield.

It was hours until twilight and yet I could feel something bearing down on me from beyond. A collective presence straining against the shackles of death.

I wanted nothing so much as to lower the window and let a fresh breeze scrub away the foulness inside my car, but I didn’t dare. I didn’t know what was out there. I could feel the chill of the ghosts, but there was something else pushing me away from Kroll Cemetery. It was as if I’d been caught between two opposing forces.

I’d come to a complete stop without even realizing it, my hands still gripping the wheel. The sense of dread overpowered me as I sat there scanning the woods. Every now and then I glimpsed something white and wispy floating through the trees. If I stared long enough, I spotted diaphanous bodies crouched on low branches, pale faces with hollow eyes and gaping mouths staring down at me.

The forest was deeply haunted. A thin place. A dark place.

Find the key, I could hear Rose whisper. Save yourself.

Carefully, I removed the three keys from my backpack and placed them on the seat beside me—the key that had been tossed into my cellar, the key that had been left in Rosehill Cemetery and the strange key that matched the motes in my eyes. All three were different. Each served a special purpose.

I hadn’t wanted to touch any of them when they’d first been left on my nightstand. I’d been too afraid my curiosity would be misconstrued as acceptance of a gift or offering. Or worse, barter for my soul.

But the keys no longer frightened me. Instead, I felt compelled to keep them close. On impulse, I slipped the pink satin ribbon over my head, allowing the skeleton key to rest against my chest. The metal instantly illuminated as it had in Rosehill Cemetery. The voices grew louder, screaming for release as the pressure in my chest tightened. I could feel a rush inside me, almost like a strong wind being sucked through an open doorway.

It was a terrifying sensation, and my first inclination was to rip the key from around my neck and fling it into the woods. The last thing I wanted was to open yet another door.

But instead of removing the key, I turned it so that the teeth pointed away from my heart. Why I did so, I couldn’t say. Perhaps it was instinct or divine intervention. The guidance of an unseen hand.

Oddly and perhaps coincidentally, the noise in my head quieted and the pressure eased. The dark things in the woods grew still and watchful. The flies scattered and the odor faded as the wind died away. I didn’t know why or how, but a door had been closed.

I sat for a moment, clutching the skeleton key to my breast. I knew the ghosts weren’t gone for good. I could still feel the chill of their presence. Rather, the key had granted a temporary reprieve. Maybe like hallowed ground, the metal provided a layer of protection, if not salvation.

The other two keys still lay on the seat beside me. I picked up the eye key and held it in my palm. The metal didn’t glow like the key around my neck, but I fancied I could feel a throb. And with the vibration came a disturbing notion as to why Rose had blinded herself. Maybe her only way out had been to unsee them. If the function of the skeleton key was to provide a reprieve, then the key with the pointed teeth could have offered my great-grandmother a final solution.





Thirty-Four

I soldiered on toward Kroll Cemetery. Up ahead where the trees thinned, beams of sunlight spangled down through the branches and I could see a butterfly dancing among the wild columbine that grew beside the trail. The weight of the dead world had lifted from me, but I cautioned myself not to let down my guard. Not to be fooled by the reprieve or the cathedral-like tranquillity of the woods. The peace was only a stay, an illusory calm before a gathering storm.

The road ended abruptly and I came to a rocky halt. A wall of green rose before me. The fingered leaves of the oaks and sycamores tangled with the feathery bowers of the cedars to create an impenetrable canopy. Evergreen saplings sprouted so thick at the end of the trail that I could barely make out the footpath.

I had expected to find Dr. Shaw waiting for me, or at the very least, his parked vehicle, but I saw no sign of either. No footprints or tire tracks to indicate anyone had been this way in years. I knew better, of course. I’d spoken to him only a short time ago. He was undoubtedly on his way to meet me at that very minute. All I had to do was sit tight.

But as I huddled over the steering wheel, listening to the engine tick down, I began to wonder if I might have taken a wrong turn after all. He should have been here by now.

I took another quick glance at the map, satisfied that I had come to the right place. Drumming fingers on the seat, I waited another few minutes before taking out my phone to call him. But after several rings, I gave up.