Mona Livelong Read online

  “Hey,” Mona said softly, “I’m gonna find Isis, okay?” You don’t know that. Stop giving them hope. What if she’s already dead?

  “Folks say she’s dead,” Fiona mumbled, echoing Mona’s thoughts. “They say Ethel ate her, and it’s my fault. They say if I hadn’t took her to the house,” Fiona went on a low monotone voice, “Ethel wouldna got her.”

  Or maybe Ethel would have stolen her from her bed, or from right in front of her house. “Well, you tell them that you got a real good detective looking for your cousin,” Mona said, anger creeping into her voice. “I know a thing or two about monsters that steal little girls.”

  Fiona’s eyes widened. “For real?”

  “For real. It wasn’t your fault. It was Ethel’s. She’s the one who took your cousin.” And whatever creature that helped her. “You tell them that.”

  A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Fiona’s mouth. “Yes ma’am.”

  “I’m going to get a look at Ethel’s house—”

  “No!” the little girl clutched her hand, her face suddenly alit with terror. “You can’t go there! She’ll get you, too!”

  Mona gently extracted her hand, and put her arm about Fiona, drawing her close for a quick hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

  Mona made her way to the cobblestone path leading to Ethel’s house. She stood gazing at the house. She was missing something—something important.

  But what?

  “You scared to go in there, ain’t you?”

  Mona looked down to see Fiona standing beside her. Lost in thought, she hadn’t heard her approach. “A little,” Mona admitted. There’s an understatement.

  Fiona intertwined her fingers with Mona’s. “I’ll go with you. We can fight Ethel together.”

  “You’re very brave, Fiona. But I don’t want you to help me. It could be dangerous. That’s what your Aunt Elconia hired me for. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mona ... Junebug’s voice spoke in her mind.

  Mona glanced to her left and saw Junebug standing a few feet away under a huge oak tree. Fiona followed her gaze, staring at him with open curiosity.

  Wait a minute. Out loud Mona said, “Fiona, you go on home. I’m gonna stop by in a little bit and talk to your Aunt, okay?”

  As soon as Fiona left, Junebug appeared at her side. “What you doing here?” Mona asked.

  “I figured you might be here.” Junebug held her gaze with his dark-brown eyes. “Ethel was pregnant before she killed Cecil. I been hanging around since last night, listening to the old folks talk.”

  “What happened to the baby?”

  Junebug’s face hardened. “Cecil beat it out of her.”

  “That’s why she wanted Isis.”

  The ghost nodded. “I thoughta’ something else too. Ask Elconia to give you something that belonged to Isis—a doll or a teddy bear. It don’t matter what. I bet it’ll help you find her.” He turned his eyes to Ethel’s house, his face thoughtful. “But don’t go back in that house. Not ‘til you find out what took Isis, and what it takes to kill it. There’s something real bad in there—powerful too. I can feel it.”

  Mona followed his gaze. It looked harmless amid the overgrown grass. Just an old house badly in need of repair and a coat of paint. Then the light shifted, and she could almost see a coiled malevolence slithering around it … like a rattlesnake.

  Waiting. Waiting for her. Daring her to come inside. “But what if Isis is still inside?”

  “Then you do a spell to get her out.”

  A woman appeared in the doorway ... a woman with matted salt and pepper hair and dirty clothes. In the next instant, she was gone. Mona’s eyes widened. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” Junebug rumbled.

  Ethel’s challenge was just for her? So be it. She had stolen an innocent child. I’m gonna beat you. You just wait and see. I’m gonna take Isis from you and burn your house to the ground. I don’t care what happened to you. You had no right to take her.

  “What’d you see?”

  “Nothing.”

  Junebug turned his eyes toward her, his face shadowed. “You be careful, Mona. You hear me?”

  “I will.”

  He lingered for another long moment, searching her face. “Drinks on you later?” he said at length.

  “You got it.”

  He melted away. Mona turned and walked back to the Stamps’ house. As soon as she reached the porch, Fiona ran over to her.

  “Where’s your friend?” the little girl asked.

  Mona was momentarily taken aback. “Um, he went home.”

  A sly smile played across Fiona’s face. “He’s a ghost, ain’t he?” Speechless, the dark woman gazed down at her. “I can tell,” the little girl went on. “I see them all the time.”

  “You—you do?” Mona didn’t know what else to say.

  “Uh-huh, Isis too.”

  Mona could feel the blood beating at her temples. She had the unsettling feeling of events spilling over into each other, of puzzle pieces finding their way home.

  “Does your Aunt Elconia know?”

  “Naw.” Fiona’s small brown face was suddenly wise beyond her years. “I told Isis not to tell her. It would just scare her.”

  “That was very smart. Now you go on back and play. I need to talk to your aunt.” Fiona grabbed Mona around her waist in a brief embrace and ran off.

  _____

  A cloth doll belonging to Isis lay on Mona’s passenger seat. The mysteries had revealed themselves. Ethel’s pregnancy. Her grief and rage over the loss of her child. Isis, the child seer, who Ethel was drawn to.

  Why Isis? Fiona could just as easily have been her target. She has the sight too. Maybe because Isis is younger, closer to the baby Ethel lost ... Did Ethel make a bargain with daemons so she could take her?

  Yeah, I bet she did.

  Mona unlocked her door and walked back to her bedroom. She packed a suitcase with clothing and protective jewelry, except for her amulet.

  I can close this case tonight and be on the morning train. The sorceress bathed and lit a candle in each corner of her bedroom. Nude, Mona picked up her Tama, the Speaking Drum from the corner of her bedroom, and placed the drum between her arm and body, holding the stick in her other hand. She beat the drum, and squeezed the tension cords adjusting the strain on the drum, so that the instrument spoke in duet with her chanting ... As the spell took hold, feathers emerged, her body shifting between human and bird, her spirit merging with the raven.

  She picked up the doll, left her bedroom and unlocked the adjoining door to her office. Mona laid the doll on her desk, pulled out the bottom drawer, and lifted out the copper bowl, a vase of amber unguent and a copper spoon. She poured four drops into the bowl; using the spoon, she sprinkled the final three on the doll.

  Mona blew softly on the liquid. “Where is Isis?”

  The liquid spun in the bowl. The right side of her office vanished, and a labyrinth appeared. In the next breath, a diaphanous golden cord stretched from the doll into the maze beyond. Mona stood and followed the cord through the darkness … to Ethel’s house. Elconia’s tearful face flashed through her mind, her pain, her tearful words.

  And then Junebug’s warning, There’s something real bad in there— powerful too. I can feel it. I wasn’t ready before. This time my totem is protecting me.

  A taunting female voice spoke below her, “Back for more, huh?”

  On the floor, sat a woman with matted salt and pepper hair, wearing dirty clothes. She was clutching a little girl.

  “Ethel ...” Mona said softly

  Ethel glared up at her. “She’s mine. You can’t have her.”

  Isis whimpered and turned terrified eyes up to Mona. “She’s not your little girl,” Mona swallowed her rage, and made her voice soft and cajoling. “Isis wants to go home. She misses her family. Please, let me take her ... I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?” Ethel cackled laug
hter. “Girl, do you know where you is?” Her voice rose in an inhuman shriek. “Youse in MY house now!” A howling wind swooshed through the house, tearing at their clothes.

  Mona spread her arms, threw back her head and wailed in an undulating cry. Ravens flew from her body to blanket Ethel. Mona bent and snatched Isis up.

  “Fire!” Mona cried, calling her first ward to her. A wall of fire sprang up.

  Mona turned and raced toward the cord, still holding Isis. Ethel jumped to her feet and spread her arms. The ravens vanished. She walked through the fire to stand before Mona. Her body seemed to melt, her skin growing loose … to collapse in a pile at Mona’s feet. Her grip tightened on Isis, terror making her heart beat a drum. The child cackled in laughter. Mona looked down.

  The thing she was holding had grown horns and turned bone white. The faux Isis grinned up at her with pointed teeth and poked out a maggot-covered tongue. With a cry of disgust and terror, Mona threw the daemon down. It vanished.

  “You have interfered with us for far too long, witch,” the voice echoed throughout the house.

  She turned back to the labyrinth. The cord was gone, and a wall appeared, blocking her escape. Mona whirled and raced toward the front door. With her fading strength she pushed her arms forward, threw back her head and screamed a mantra, “OPEN!” The door exploded into splinters and she sprinted out into the night.

  “WATER!” Behind her, a river sprang up, and the daemons halted, growling, and hissing their rage, unable to cross water.

  That’s it. I’m tapped out. I’m—

  The river vanished. And the shadows consumed her.

  ______

  Chapter 9: The Raven

  “Mona!”

  She knew that voice.

  “Mona!” More insistent this time, accompanied by a pounding at the door.

  I should answer the door. But she couldn’t. She was ...

  A raven.

  Mona lay outside on her own door stoop. A big coconut-shaded man with a square jaw and mustache stood over her holding a duffel bag. His clothing said he was an airship pilot. Googles had been fitted over his black Bromley hat, and he wore a gray-green jacket overlaid with gold-colored thread that buttoned on the top left side and flared out at the bottom. A watch dangled from his pocket. He hadn’t noticed her laying right by his feet. And why would he? Why would he notice a dead bird?

  Except she wasn’t dead.

  And the man was—Junebug! She called out to him with her mind. He heard her and jerked his head left and right. Down here!

  He looked down and his eyes widened. “Mona—oh naw! Is that you? Is you a bird?”

  Junebug knelt and picked her up gently. She lay in his big hands, her wings softly fluttering. His face twisted with emotion; he was on the verge of tears.

  The raven, Mona, sat up in his hand, holding his gaze with her black eyes. Please get me outta here—get me outta the city before they find me! You got coins?

  He answered her telepathically. Yeah, plenty of ‘em.

  There’s a suitcase in the house! Maybe there’s something in there that can help me!

  He turned back to the house and a spectral hand emerged from the flesh he was wearing. He reached through the door and unlocked it. It swung open.

  In my bedroom.

  Still holding her, Junebug hurried back to the bedroom. Clutching Mona in one hand, he grabbed the suitcase with the other.

  Thirty minutes later they were the steam-train bound for Monterrey. Junebug had found a shop open late and purchased a birdcage. Now Mona sat inside, dining on peeled boiled eggs.

  This rascal I’m wearing, he’s one of them ghost hunters. He begged me to possess him. Said he heard I was a ladies’ man, and he ain’t had no luck with women. He flies them airships—got a pocket full of coins.

  Mona pecked greedily at her egg. You knocked him out?

  Cold. I’ll wake him up when we finish.

  What you doing with a duffel bag?

  I was headed for Monterrey ... Mona, Ethel never moved back in her house. When she got outta the chain gang, she went to live with her sister in Bakersville. She died last year. That’s what I was coming to tell you.

  But people saw her!

  She never did have many friends, Junebug replied, looking miserable. I guess folks saw—whatever that was moving round her house—and thought it was her.

  The daemons tricked me—they tricked me into going back in.

  His face twisted with emotion. Mona, I told you to stay way from that house.

  I went to get Isis! But she might be dead too. Junebug, I can’t change back. I’m trapped.

  Part II: Exodus

  I slip into the skins of my ancestors. These spirits, they

  keep me sane …

  _____

  Chapter 10: Isis

  The night, she’d appeared in his chamber Henry Burr was at first too shocked to do anything but watch her scream. When he recovered his senses, he rushed over and hunkered down. “Stop screaming! What’s your name?”

  Isis burst into tears, and Burr scooped her up in his arms. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he soothed. “What’s your name?”

  “Isis …”

  “Isis, how did you get here?”

  “I dunno … I was with Fiona … then Ethel grabbed me ...!” she dissolved into gulping sobs again.

  Burr started to ask her who Ethel was, and realized it would be useless. Somehow, the spell he’d cast had transported her here.

  She’s supposed to be here! But why?

  “I wanna go home!” Isis wailed.

  “I’ll take you home,” Burr stammered, his mind racing. “Just stop crying.”

  If the entities that created the door brought Isis here, and given him ... whatever they’d given him, there was a reason. That meant she couldn’t leave. Not yet. Guilt stabbed him to his core. But he told himself that if he took her back, it could be dangerous for them both.

  He put her in his steam-auto and drove her to Joe McIntyre’s mansion. His home was near the inner city. If someone saw her, there would be questions.

  “This is Mr. McIntyre’s house. You’re going to stay here for a while. Then I’ll take you home.” Isis stared silently up at him, her eyes accusing, her thumb in her mouth.

  Sitting in McIntyre’s oil-lit living room, he introduced her to DA Joe McIntyre. McIntyre gazed down at Isis, his green eyes gleaming. “I can tell she’s a very special little girl,” he drawled in his heavy Southern accent. “Isis, would you like some ice cream?” She glared up at him silently. “William …! Where is he? Oh, never mind. Hank!” A hard-faced bodyguard appeared in the living room archway. “This is Isis. Give her some ice cream and put her in the bedroom next door to mine—and find William.”

  Once they’d left, he turned to Burr. “Where did she come from?”