A Harvest Of Fates

A Harvest Of Fates

by Heidi Willard

Halloween comes upon Collinwood, and for one individual it comes riding the wings of memories. Willie Loomis finds himself reminiscing about the what-ifs of his existence, but his reverie is interrupted by the appearance of three apparitions. They’ve come to judge his deeds and deliver their sentence.

Willie, Barnabas, Julia, Stokes, Carolyn.

Halloween. All Hallows' Eve. The time when the boundary between the worlds of the dead and the living weakened.

Willie could relate to that idea as he walked through the woods toward Collinwood as early evening threatened to give way to night. His life revolved around breaking barriers between the normal world and that of the paranormal. Hardly a week went by when he wasn’t helping Barnabas save the area from vampires, witches and the occasional cursed object.

Willie brushed aside a tree branch and paused. The woods parted and before him stretched the wide expanse of lawn that wrapped around Collinwood, that grand estate with its terrible secrets. He sighed. So many secrets, but he knew the most terrible of them all. He’d set it loose upon Collinsport.

Those were familiar thoughts for Willie who over the past several days had found himself wondering about the what-ifs of his life. There were always the dreams of what might have been if he hadn’t opened that coffin and been bitten. He glanced down at his right arm. The long sleeve of the green turtleneck sweater he wore hid the tell-tale bite marks, not that they mattered much anymore. Barnabas was free from his curse, and so was Willie. Still, the thoughts of opportunities lost nagged at him.

Willie shook himself from his reverie. Regret was a powerful drug, but he didn’t have time to indulge in past mistakes. He had a message to take up to Collinwood.

The shadows lengthened as he made his way up to the pair of doors that acted as gatekeepers to the abode. Willie knocked on one of them and the sound echoed throughout the large foyer. In a moment one of the doors opened and a wide band of light spilled onto the young man. Willie blinked against the harsh light before his vision recognized a friendly face.

Mrs. Johnson stood in the doorway and greeted him with her typical curious expression. “Why, hello, Mr. Loomis. What can I do for you?”

“I just came to deliver a message for Mrs. Stoddard from Barnabas,” he told her.

She smiled. “Would you like to speak to her? She’s in the drawing room.”

He shook his head. “No, just tell her that Barnabas is coming to the Halloween Ball tonight, okay?”

Mrs. Johnson nodded. “All right, I’ll tell her.” Willie half-turned away, but her voice stopped him. “Will we be seeing you as well, Mr. Loomis?”

Willie turned to her with a shaky smile. “I-I don’t think so. I’m not much for parties.”

She scoffed and eyed him with disbelief. “There was a time when that wasn’t true.”

Willie turned away and cringed. “M-maybe so. Anyway, I'll be seeing you.”

He scurried away from the light that stretched out from the open door and slipped back into the shadows. There was much truth in Mrs. Johnson’s words. Too much.

He reached the woods and walked down the path back to the Old House, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Unbidden, Willie’s mind wandered back to those long days and nights of reckless abandonment, back when he didn’t have a care in the world except where his next buck was going to come from. Those halcyon days with his best friend, Jason McGuire. The friend he had been forced to bury in an unmarked grave in the Collins family tomb.

There were so many of those graves over the years. The estate of Collinwood was littered with the deep holes of his misdeeds.

An unfriendly branch whacked Willie in the face. He flailed his arms at his attacker and yanked the limb out of his way. That’s when he noticed something was amiss. He wasn’t on the path to the Old House. It was a different path, one with only one point of termination.

Widows’ Hill.

Willie’s pulse quickened. Those forlorn cliffs were not a place meant for the living. Only the dead and dying passed over those terrible high walls of sadness and despair. The dead were memories of sailors who had found themselves wrecked on the rocky shoreline. The dying were those poor widows who had come there to take their own lives rather than go on without those they loved the most.

Willie had a clear view of the vast ocean with its unfathomable reach. He’d been to many places beyond that horizon, some with Jason and some without. Those days were long behind him, like so many others. He wondered if he could ever escape them, or if returning to them was even what he truly wanted.

The last rays of sunlight disappeared beneath the wide horizon, sending the world into darkness. A chill autumn wind washed over him, sinking into his bones like a damp blanket. Willie should have turned around and gone home. On any other night that might have happened, but this was no ordinary night. All Hallows' Eve would not be ignored.

Willie.

A voice. It was a voice from the darkness that called to him. Willie had heard such voices before countless times and from countless people, but this was different. This wasn’t the bidding of an earthly creature. It was the calling of something beyond time, beyond space.

Beyond the grave.

His body trembled as he took an unwilling step forward. The darkness at the edge of the cliff parted like a curtain and revealed a figure clothed in white. Willie squinted at the figure but couldn’t make out the face draped as it was in the thick cloth of a bridal veil. Still, the form was familiar. “Carolyn? That you?”

He inched closer, then froze. His blood ran cold when he realized he could see through the figure and to the calm sea beyond the cliffs. The apparition paused in her grief and lifted her face to him.

Willie’s eyes widened as he gazed upon a countenance of rotten flesh and exposed bone. The eyes were gone, but the sockets weren’t empty. The bright glow of a crimson-colored light shone out of those depth-less holes, a light blackened as though they were coals dredged up from the underworld.

Willie cried out and stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet. He fell to the ground as the creature let loose a scream that the wind carried over the ocean. The terrible sound echoed along the cliffs and reverberated inside his quivering body.

The banshee-like cry of the corpse bride called forth two more feminine specters who rose up from the very ground on either side of the first. They were garbed in different attire, but all bore the look of women long-drowned. The ghost on the left wore a simple long dress of plain cloth, and in her hands held six white roses. The creature on the right was not quite as rotted as the others with her flesh mostly intact but for a streak of red tears down each cheek.

The bridal figure straightened to her full height and Willie could feel a damp chill fall over him. Her glowing red eyes stared down at him with a mixture of disgust and contempt.

Willie Loomis.

Willie swallowed the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah?”

Your heart is burdened by heavy sins. Sins which must be judged.

He shook his head. “B-but I didn’t do anything! Honest!”

Silence! The glow of the woman’s eyes brightened like a newly sparked match. Willie shrank back and whimpered. The woman raised one arm and pointed a bony finger at him. He could smell the vile stench of seaweed and rotten flesh. You will return to us at our hour for your judgment, Willie Loomis. Now leave us!

Willie tried to stand, but his shaking legs wouldn’t move. The woman let loose another terrible cry and rushed toward him with her arms outstretched and long fingernails ready to dig into his flesh. Willie threw up his arm and shut his eyes. He felt a numbing chill enter his body as the creature passed through him. The cold dragged across his skin and bones like icy nails, leaving him with long, invisible scars of chilled flesh.

The sensation lasted for only a moment, but that was enough encouragement to spur into action. Willie yelped and clambered to his feet. He raced off down the path to the Old House without ever daring a look over his shoulder.

Doctor Julia Hoffman shut the door to the basement of the Old House and walked toward the arch that led to the drawing room, a smile of contentment on her lips. It was another moonlit night and she’d had a long day of enjoyable medical journal readings behind her. Now she looked forward to a lovely evening at the grand house of Collinwood. She would be going as a medical doctor, a part she could play with some realism.

The front doors were flung open and Willie stumbled inside. His face was as white as a sheet and his legs trembled beneath him. He took a few steps into the sanctuary of the house before his legs buckled. He crumpled to the floor.

“Willie!” Julia yelled as she hurried to his side. His eyes were closed and his breathing erratic. She checked his pulse. Very quick. The doctor opened one eyelid. His eye was dilated. She grasped one of his cold hands and rubbed the fingers between her palms before she looked up at the rooms around her. “Barnabas!”

Barnabas appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs and grasped the railing before he leaned over. “What is it, Julia?”

She peered up at him with concern written on her face. “It’s Willie! Something’s happened to him!”

Barnabas hurried down the stairs and knelt on Willie’s other side. “What’s happened?”

Julia shook her head. “I don’t know but help me get him into a chair.”

Together the pair carried him to one of the plush red chairs that stood in front of the crackling fire. They set him upon the cushion and Julia leaned over the shivering young man.

“Willie! Willie, can you hear me?” she asked him.

Willie’s eyes fluttered open. A bright light pierced his vision and made him wince. It also reminded him of the illuminated vision. A garbled cry escaped his lips as he shot up. A pair of hands with long fingernails grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back down into the plush back of a chair.

Barnabas appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs and grasped the railing before he leaned over. “What is it, Julia?”

She peered up at him with concern written on her face. “It’s Willie! Something’s happened to him!”

Barnabas hurried down the stairs and knelt on Willie’s other side. “What’s happened?”

Julia shook her head. “I don’t know but help me get him into a chair.”

Together the pair carried him to one of the plush red chairs that stood in front of the crackling fire. They set him upon the cushion and Julia leaned over the shivering young man.

“Willie! Willie, can you hear me?” she asked him.

The fingernails belonged to Julie who grasped his arms and inspected the pale, disheveled young man. “Willie, what’s the matter?”

He blinked at her. His lips moved a few times before a garbled name spilled out. “J-Julia?”

She nodded. “Yes, and Barnabas is here.”

“Barnabas!” He grabbed Barnabas’ hand in both of his own and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “You have to help me!”

Julia pursed her lips. “We will, Willie, but first you have to tell us what happened.” He shut his eyes and shrank back as though struck by her words. She leaned back and inspected him with a shake of her head. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve seen a ghost.”

The fingernails belonged to Julie who grasped his arms and inspected the pale, disheveled young man. “Willie, what’s the matter?”

He blinked at her. His lips moved a few times before a garbled name spilled out. “J-Julia?”

She nodded. “Yes, and Barnabas is here.”

“Barnabas!” He grabbed Barnabas’ hand in both of his own and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “You have to help me!”

Julia shook her head. “Willie, you’re not making any sense. Who was going to kill you?”

He raised his eyes to her and revealed in their depths the full terror he felt. “The woman at the cliff. She just appeared out of nowhere and told me I was gonna be judged or somethin’, and she’d see me at her hour.” He shuddered and bowed his head. A sob escaped his lips. “Then she attacked me, and I thought I was gonna die.”

Barnabas’ eyes flickered to Julia as he directed a question to the quivering young man. “What did this woman look like?”

Willie ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess she kinda looked like a bride with that white dress, and then the other two came out of the ground. They were dressed different. Kinda less showy.”

“And these women suddenly attacked you without warning?” Julia asked him.

Willie shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. “They weren’t just women. They looked like something you’d drag out of the sea after they’ve been down there for a while.” His face twisted in disgust. “I could see their bones and their clothes were all rotten. They smelled real bad, too. I’ve been around seaweed that smelled like that. And it was all over them, too, that seaweed.”

Barnabas furrowed his brow. “Interesting.”

Willie choked on a bitter laugh. “Interesting, nuthin’. They almost scared me to death.”

“That may have been their intention,” he suggested.

Willie whipped his head up and gaped at him. “Wha—”

“Even in my own time that was a spot to be feared and avoided because of the first suicide at those cliffs,” Barnabas mused.

Julia scoffed. “Surely you’re not referring to the legend of the three widows.”

Barnabas nodded. “I am. Willie himself just described Abigail Tolliver, a woman married only a few days before the sea made a widow of her. She threw herself from the cliffs in despair.”

“And the other two?” Julia asked him.

“No doubt they are the other widows, Rachel Comstock and Margaret Findley,” he surmised.

Julia slipped her hands into her lab coat pockets and leaned back to scrutinize the shivering young man. “If that were true then Willie did see a ghost, though I fail to see why they would visit him.”

Willie nodded. “Y-yeah. I ain’t done nuthin’ to them and here they come saying I sinned, and they were gonna punish me for it.”

Barnabas shook his head as he paced the room. “I don’t know, but we must find out. Otherwise—” He paused and closed his eyes.

Willie grasped the arm of the chair closest to Barnabas and leaned over it toward his former master. “Otherwise what?”

Barnabas turned to him and searched his face. “Otherwise the widows may tempt you over the cliff the same way they tempted Mrs. Stoddard.”

Willie’s eyes widened, and his voice was an octave higher than usual. “Me? Why’d they want to do a thing like that to me? I’m not a girl!”

“Perhaps we’ll find out when we get to the cliffs,” Julia comforted him as she took his arm and gave it a tug upward.

Willie tore his arm from her grasp and leaned away from her as he shook his head. “Oh no, I’m not going back there. Not ever.”

“Would you rather be left alone here while Barnabas and I go look at the cliffs?” Julia pointed out.

The young man winced. “Can’t we just wait until morning? Maybe nuthin’ will happen.”

“Is that a risk you’re willing to take?” Barnabas asked him.

Willie’s shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I guess not, but I still don’t like it.”

Barnabas nodded. “Your objections are duly noted. Now let us see what we might find there.”

Willie stood on his own but grasped Julia’s arm tightly as they made their way to the forlorn cliffs. His body quivered harder the closer they came to the barren precipice.

The companions reached the point where the trees parted and revealed the ocean in all its calm glory. Cheerful twinkling stars lit up the night sky with their brilliance and reflected their lights on the smooth waters that stretched out beyond the horizon.

Just beyond the trees Willie dug his feet into the ground and clutched tighter to Julia’s arm. “W-what’s that?”

“What’s what, Willie?” she asked him.

Willie shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. “There it is again.”

“Willie, what are you talking about?” Julia snapped.

He raised his quivering chin to dark sky and gazed at the twinkling stars with wide eyes. “Can’t you feel it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel anything.” She glanced at Barnabas. “Do you feel anything?”

Barnabas turned with his back to the cliffs and settled his full attention on his former servant. “No, but what do you feel, Willie?”

Willie squeezed his arms tighter against his sides and shut his eyes. “Cold. Real cold.”

“Like an icebox?” Julia suggested.

He shook his head. “No, this is different. It’s like it’s trying to dig its way into me, into my soul.”

Julia set her hand atop one of his and frowned. “Your body temperature is rapidly dropping. Let me feel your pulse.” She drew his hand away and pressed her fingers over the vein. “A little fast, but that’s to be expected under such strain. Other than the cold, how do you feel?”

“Like I’m gonna be sick,” Willie replied as he shut his eyes and turned his face away from her. “I think we should get out of here. Right now.”

“In a moment,” Barnabas assured him as he paced the area. His cane tapped the ground as he moved toward the precipice. He stopped at its termination and looked over the edge at the rough rocks below. “These rocks have claimed many willing lives.” He half-turned and studied the shivering young man. “I wonder why it is that these women have never haunted me and yet they come to you to pass judgment.”

Willie shook his head. “I don’t know, but I wish they were haunting somebody else.”

Julia leaned back and studied Willie with an intense gaze. “This is only my theory, but I believe Willie may have some sensitivity to spirits. That may be why the women have chosen to judge him and not anyone else.”

Barnabas arched an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well, when the ghost of Trask walled you up in the basement he was able to sense the spirit before I could,” she pointed out.

“Perhaps that was because he was the one hammering at the wall,” Barnabas argued.

Julia arched one of her tall eyebrows. “Wasn’t he also the first and only person to hear your call through your portrait?”

“Yes, but how do you connect those two very different events with one another?” Barnabas asked her.

“Together those might indicate an acute awareness of supernatural entities, including ghosts,” she persisted.

Willie’s heartbeat quickened and his eyes widened as they flickered between the pair. “Hey hey, what are you guys saying? That I can see spooks and stuff?”

Julia shrugged. “It’s only a theory, Willie, but that may be close to the truth.”

Willie ran a hand through his hair and shook his head as he stared wide-eyed at the ground. “Great. Just great. I’m seeing spooks and now they want to kill me.”

“Perhaps, but perhaps not,” Barnabas spoke up.

Julia and Willie turned to him, and again the doctor arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Barnabas leaned both hands on the top of his wolf’s head cane and shrugged. “Merely that we do not know what sentence they intend to carry out for Willie.”

Willie shook his head. “Whatever it is, it ain’t gonna be good.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it never is, that’s why.” He wrapped his arms around himself and paced the ground in front of his two companions. “Every time I get into these things the worst stuff happens.”

“It might not be as bad as that,” Julia argued.

Willie stopped his pacing and spun around to face her, revealing the doubt deep in his eyes.

“How can you be sure of that? Huh? What if those—” he pointed at the cliff, “those women say I deserve to die? What then? How are you going to stop them?”

“We will think of something, Willie,” Barnabas assured him. “In the meantime, we should return to the house. Lingering here does us no good.”

Willie turned his face away as Barnabas passed by him. The young man’s face was scrunched up and his lips were pressed hard together.

Julia walked up to him and set a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Willie, let’s go.”

He nodded, but his heart was heavy with dread as he trudged back to the Old House.

They reached the manor a few minutes later. Barnabas, always in the lead, paused at the parting of the woods and stared hard at the house.

Julia and Willie joined him, and the doctor glanced from Barnabas’ tense face to the house. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He nodded at the house. “The door is open.”

A sliver of light that stretched out of the doorway indicated he was correct. They crept toward the entrance and Barnabas pressed the head of his cane against the door. He swung it open, revealing the small foyer. A woman with long blonde hair stood with her back to them. Willie’s heart quickened before the person turned and revealed herself to be Carolyn Stoddard.

She smiled at the group. “Oh, hello, Barnabas. I’m sorry to be barging in like this, but with the candlelight in the window I thought you were home.”

Barnabas smiled at his pretty cousin and strode inside, followed by the others. “There’s no need to apologize. I always appreciate a visit from one of my cousins.”

Carolyn looked past him at Willie and Julia. She furrowed her brow when she noticed Willie’s pale demeanor. “Has something happened?”

“Willie fell on the path, that’s all,” Julia assured her. She set her hand on his back and guided him to the stairs. “He just needs a little rest.”

Julia and Willie disappeared up the stairs, and Barnabas removed his coat before he turned to Carolyn. “What reason brought you out here?”

“When you didn’t show up after sunset Mother asked me to come down here and see if you were still coming,” Carolyn explained. Though her words were to Barnabas, her attention lay on where Willie and Julia had gone.

Barnabas’ eyes flickered between her pretty young face and where her gaze was fixed. “Is something the matter?”

Carolyn rubbed her temple with one hand and a shaky smile slipped onto her lips before she shook her head. “It’s nothing. I just thought—” she dropped her hand and shrugged, “I just thought I’d forgotten something, that’s all. Well, I’ll be going now. I hope to see you soon.”

“And I you,” Barnabas returned as he escorted her to the door and opened one of them for her. “I look forward to seeing you in a fantastical costume.”

She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll think so when you see my costume. I found it in one of the trunks in the basement, in that the room where Jason had buried the trunk. It was so wild that I couldn’t help but wear it tonight. I’m sure you’ll think I’m strange when you see me in the getup.”

He smiled and bowed his head to her. “I am sure whatever part you play you’ll do the clothes justice. Good evening.”

“See you later,” she replied and slipped out into the night.

Barnabas shut the door behind her as Julia walked down the stairs, her hand on the banister and a frown on her lips.

“You’re still going to the ball?” Julia questioned him.

Barnabas turned to her and nodded. “I must. My family expects me. Besides, Professor Stokes has also been invited. I may learn from him what we can do to help Willie.”

Julia walked up to Barnabas as he stood in the foyer and crossed her arms over her chest before she shook her head. “I don’t think Willie should be left alone in my care.”

Barnabas arched an eyebrow. “Do you doubt your medical abilities now, Doctor?”

Her frown deepened. “No, it’s that neither of us knows what we’re dealing with. If those women should come in here I don’t see how I’ll be able to stop them.”

Barnabas pursed his lips as he glanced up the stairs. “I see what you mean, but we must take that chance.”

She sighed but nodded. “All right. I’ll give Willie a sedative to calm his nerves. That should help him sleep for a couple of hours.”

“Good. I shall see what I can find out from Professor Stokes.”

Barnabas hurried into his costume—his old attire from the eighteenth century—and strode up to Collinwood. The grand house was decked out in festive colors of orange and black streamers that stretched over the small porch which covered the front entrance. Vehicles clogged the driveway and spooks, vampires and witches walked up the gravel to a night of merriment.

Barnabas slipped inside. The foyer was festooned with fake cobwebs and mummy wrappings. Jack-o-lanterns in all shapes and sizes lit the foyer with their horrible grins and sneering snarls. The entrance hall and drawing room were packed with guests who meandered about sipping punch from a large bowl which sat at the back of the drawing room.

Barnabas looked around for the professor. The man was nowhere to be found, but Elizabeth Collins, mistress of Collinwood and ever the attentive hostess, spotted him and hurried over with a smile and an outstretched hand. She was dressed in a regal marching band outfit complete with a tall shako hat and a bright red vest with all the gold trimmings.

“Barnabas! It’s so wonderful to see you!” Liz greeted him.

Barnabas pressed a light kiss on her hand. “As always, the pleasure is mine, dear cousin.”

Liz glanced behind him and arched her eyebrows. “Is Julia not with you?”

“Alas, Willie was taken ill with a sudden fever and she was obliged to remain behind and tend to him,” he replied.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Perhaps next year, then.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Barnabas agreed as he gazed out over the crowded area.

Liz didn’t notice his preoccupation but looped one of her arms through his. “You must come and see Carolyn. She is a sight to see in the costume she found in that dusty old traveling trunk. I would have thought her terrified to wear another old dress after, well, after that séance at the Old House.”

“I am glad to hear she has recovered from that episode,” Barnabas mused with his eyes ever on the swelling crowds.

Liz, too, looked out among her guests and furrowed her brow. “How strange. I swore she was just here. Let me go fetch her and you'll see what I mean.” She hurried off to find her wayward daughter.

Barnabas, meanwhile, had spotted his prey. His eyes fell upon a burly figure against the paneled wall near the door that led to the dining room. Professor Timothy Eliot Stokes was a tall man of considerable figure with an honest smile and a sharp glint in his eyes. His short dark hair was combed back in its natural style, but his usual attire of a dark business suit had been replaced by the garb of a pirate. Even one of his eyes sported a patch.

Barnabas strode over to the professor who—though currently blind in one eye—was no less attentive and turned to him with a smile. “Ah, Barnabas, good evening. I must complement you on your costume. A relic from your own family, am I correct?”

Barnabas bowed his head. “Correct as ever, Professor Stokes, but I’m afraid I did not approach you for the compliment. I have a serious matter I wish to discuss with you, if you are so willing.”

A glint of interest appeared in Stokes’ eyes and he set his drink down. “If you wish.”

Barnabas led Stokes into the empty study that adjoined the foyer. He was careful to shut the doors behind them before he turned to the curious professor. “Earlier this evening my servant Willie was confronted by the widows on Widows’ Hill,” he revealed.

Stokes raised an eyebrow. “The widows? Was he quite sure?”

Barnabas nodded. “Yes. We returned to the hill with Willie and we sensed an ill presence there.”

“And what did these apparitions do to him?” the professor inquired.

“They appeared before Willie and informed him that he would be judged for his sins at their hour,” Barnabas explained.

Stokes lifted his chin and studied the ceiling. “I thought there was something strange in the air around Collinwood this night. It must be the presence of those three supernatural beings lurking about the grounds.”

“Indeed. Julia has surmised that Willie may have some sensitivity to spirits and that's why they've come to him, but what do you make of it?” Barnabas wondered.

Stokes clasped his hands behind his back and paced the floor for a few steps. “I’m not sure, but I might say that Julia may be right in her hypothesis.” He half-turned to Barnabas. “Unfortunately, if what she says is true then your friend Willie is in grave danger.”

Barnabas arched an eyebrow. “How so?”

“From what you’ve told me I might surmise that these women consider themselves arbiters of fate,” Stokes told him. “In that assumption we should consider them very dangerous. As victims of fate themselves they would have very little pity on a man such as Willie, particularly considering his history with the Maggie Evans affair and his earlier doings in Collinsport.”

Barnabas scoffed to hide a slight touch of unease. “But I am sure Willie was not completely in control of himself when he committed those acts, so how can they judge him for that?”

“Perhaps having been married to stronger men, they consider weakness in itself a sin,” Stokes suggested.

“Is there anything you know that may stop them from whatever plans they have for Willie?” Barnabas asked him.

Stokes furrowed his brow. “Perhaps, but we must leave for the Old House at once to make preparations against their attack. If my assumption is correct, then they will attack your friend at the hour of three.”

“How did you come to surmise that?” Barnabas wondered.

“By the mention of their hour. Suicides most often occur at that hour, and there are three widows with which we must contend. That’s also an hour of high spirit activity. Together they point to three being the most likely hour at which they will strike.” He swept his eyes over the crowd. “If you will excuse me for a moment, I must make arrangements for Hallie to stay at Collinwood. I expect this night will be far too dangerous for her to leave the house.”

Stokes moved to leave, but Barnabas grasped his arm. “How would this night be dangerous to anyone but Willie?”

“If our efforts are successful and the widows are thrown off your friend, they may seek another to judge, and in their wrath, they may choose anyone.”

“And what do you believe will happen to Willie if the widows are not stopped?” Barnabas asked him.

The professor took a deep breath. “I believe they will kill him.”

Barnabas released Stokes’ arm and gave a nod. “I see, then please hurry.”

Stokes hurried out of the room while Barnabas turned his attention to the fire that crackled in the hearth. His thoughts returned to the young man in the Old House, so much so that he didn’t notice the windows at his back. A single glance out the glass panes would have revealed to him a fog that crept across the lawn toward Collinwood. The thick white air quietly draped itself over the house like a wet blanket, encasing the residence in its cold clutches.

The professor returned in a few minutes. “I’ve made the arrangements. Are you ready to leave?”

“At once,” Barnabas assured him.

The men strode from the room and into the foyer. Liz noticed their departure and hurried to intercept. “You both aren’t leaving so soon, are you?”

Barnabas turned to her and bowed his head. “My sincerest apologies, dear cousin, but I find that business calls me away.”

“Surely you both might stay for a while longer. There will be dancing soon,” she coaxed them.

Barnabas shook his head. “I am terribly sorry, Elizabeth. Perhaps another time.”

Barnabas turned to the door and opened the portal. His eyes widened as he beheld a wall of white fog before him. The mist was so thick he couldn’t see three feet in front of him. Even the lit lamps at the end of the porch cover were invisible to him.

Elizabeth stepped up to his side and gaped at the mist. “My goodness! Have you ever seen such fog?”

Barnabas' eyes flickered to Stokes. “Perhaps it is an omen.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I’m sure it’s only an omen that fall has arrived and that my guests are here to stay until some of this dreadful mist clears.” She grasped the door and shut it in front of Barnabas, forcing him back a step before turning to face the gentlemen. “You both must stay. It would dangerous to go out now in such weather. If you will excuse me a moment.” Elizabeth removed herself to alert her guests to the sudden longer duration of their stay.

Stokes moved to the small alcove and Barnabas joined him there. “This worries me,” Barnabas mused.

The professor nodded. “It worries me as well. There was no fog forecast for this night. I believe they are trying to keep us from protecting Willie.”

Barnabas pursed his lips. “Then we must find a way out of here, and soon.”

“How well do you know the woods between the two manors?” Stokes asked him.

“As well as anyone, but under such conditions we would still be risking our lives in traveling to the Old House,” Barnabas admitted.

Stokes checked his watch. “It is half past six. We shall see how long this mist lingers.”

“Everyone! Everyone, please listen for a moment!” Liz called over the din of the crowd. They all quieted and the two men emerged from the alcove to see Liz standing in the doorway to the drawing room. She clasped her hands together and smiled at her guests. “I’m afraid the fog has come in, so no one is to leave the house until further notice.”

“Why? Afraid of the ghosts of Widows’ Hill?” someone shouted. Laughter arose from the crowd.

Liz chuckled and shook her head. “Certainly not, but I would rather no one join them tonight over the cliffs, at least until the fog lifts. In the meantime—” she swept her eyes over the many people, “I’m sure Carolyn will entertain us with a new song she recently learned. Carolyn?”

“I saw her go out a few minutes ago,” a guest called.

Liz swept her eyes over those gathered in the foyer and drawing room. “Did anyone see her come back?” There was a murmur of no’s and a shake of heads. Liz’s smile grew strained and her eyes flickered to the closed front doors. “Well, I’m sure she’s all right, and in the meantime why don’t we all have another round of punch and cakes?”

“I don’t like this,” Stokes whispered so that only Barnabas could overhear him.

Barnabas glanced up at him and arched an eyebrow. “Why?

“If what you say is true about the widows, they may not stop at judging one soul this evening,” Stokes pointed out.

Barnabas’ eyes widened. “You believe they would harm Carolyn?”

Stokes gave a curt nod. “It is possible, and that is why we must deal with them at their first victim before there are more.”

“Then I will lead the way as best I can,” Barnabas promised before they slipped out the front doors.

Back at the Old House Julia sat on the edge of Willie’s narrow bed. Her medical bag was positioned on her lap as she dug through the contents.

Willie sat in the middle of the bed with his back against the headboard. His face was pale, and his hand shook as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.

“What am I gonna do, Julia? What if those women say I’m guilty?” he asked her.

She paused in her search and sighed. “As I’ve told you a dozen times before, Willie, we’ll figure something out.”

“But what if you don’t? They’re gonna think I did all that stuff Barnabas ordered.” Willie shut his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I’m the one who’s gonna pay for all those terrible things he made me do.”

Back at the Old House Julia sat on the edge of Willie’s narrow bed. Her medical bag was positioned on her lap as she dug through the contents.

Willie sat in the middle of the bed with his back against the headboard. His face was pale, and his hand shook as he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair.

“What am I gonna do, Julia? What if those women say I’m guilty?” he asked her.

She paused in her search and sighed. “As I’ve told you a dozen times before, Willie, we’ll figure something out.”

Julia set a hand atop his that lay on his lap and offered him a small smile. “Nobody blames you for them, Willie.”

Willie shook his head. “I don’t know, Julia.” He opened his blue eyes and raised them to meet her gaze. “Sometimes—you know, late at night—sometimes I wonder if I couldn’t have done somethin’ more, ya know? Maybe I could’ve gotten Maggie out, or warned Jason better, or—”

Julia shook her head. “You couldn’t have gone against Barnabas’ wishes. You and I both know how powerful the will of a vampire is over their victims.”

Willie sighed and nodded. “I-I know, but I just can’t help thinkin’ about them things, ya know? I see ‘em sometimes in my nightmares. Jason and the others. They—” he shut his eyes and turned his face away, “They hate me for not savin’ them.”

Julia patted his hand before resuming her search. “They’re just nightmares. Nothing more than the product of your imagination.” She drew out a small glass container with white pills. The doctor tipped a pill onto her palm and dropped it into a glass of water that sat on the nightstand beside the bed. She held the glass out to him. “Take this. It should help you sleep.”

Willie took the glass and downed the contents in one gulp. He wrinkled his nose as he handed the glass back to her. “it tastes like the medicine they gave me at Windcliff.”

“No doubt it was. Sedatives are often used on patients with a history of violence,” Julia explained as she shut her bag and stood. She turned to face him with a smile. “Now try to get some sleep. I’m sure Barnabas and Professor Stokes will be here soon.”

Willie nodded before he stretched himself out on the bed. Julia blew out the candle atop the short dresser, plunging the room in darkness. She walked over to the door and wrapped her hand around the knob.

“Julia?”

She paused and half-turned to the dark figure on the bed. “Yes, Willie?”

“Thanks. You know, for tryin’ to make me feel better.”

She smiled. “You’re very welcome, now try to get some rest.” She slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Willie stared at the ceiling. He could feel the sedatives start to work as a fog drifted over his mind. His final thoughts before he drifted off to sleep were of those women and their haunting eyes, calling him to their terrible judgment.

Restless. Dreaming. Voices called to him, alluring voices filled with promises of a deep rest.

Willie. Willie, come to us.

Their voices were so soothing, so tempting. He wanted to go to them, and yet an indescribable fear held him back. It was a fear as deep as his soul, a terror he hadn’t felt since his servitude to Barnabas. He couldn’t go to them. Something bad would happen; he was sure of it.

And yet the temptation pulled against his will, tearing him asunder. Willie tossed and turned on his bed. He grasped the pillow beneath his head and kicked at the covers. He couldn’t go, he just couldn’t, but they wouldn’t let up.

Willie.

“No,” he groaned as he shook his head. “Please, no.”

Willie, come to us.

His eyes shot open. It was still dark outside. The shadows of the night hung heavy over his small room.

Willie sat up, his head pounding. He clutched his temple in one hand and winced. It felt like a bad dream had struck his mind with images so terrible they had left a bruise on his thoughts.

Willie.

Willie’s eyes widened before he turned his head to face the small window. The window was open, and a soft breeze blew in from the ocean. The scent of ancient waters drifted in along with the faraway crash of the waves against the rocks.

There was something else among the clamor. Their voices.

Willie, come to us.

Willie’s pulse quickened. Unbidden, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and staggered to his feet. They were calling him. He had to go to them.

Downstairs Julia paced the floor of the Old House drawing room with her hands wrung together in front of her. She paused and glanced at the clock on the mantel. The hands showed the hour to be half past two.

“Where are they?” she growled as she resumed her pacing. “They should have been here hours ago.”

Behind her, silhouetted against the bay windows, floated a thick white fog. It was the same mist that surrounded Collinwood. The fog had cleared somewhat over the last few minutes, but the cold, clammy air still sank into the Old House and chilled the rooms so that Julia retreated to the warmth of the crackling fire. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared hard into the flickering flames.

“At their hour…” she mused as her eyes flickered back up to the clock. She set a hand on the back of one chair and furrowed her brow. “What could that mean?”

Her attention was so focused on the riddle that she didn’t hear the soft creak of footsteps from upstairs. Willie walked down the hall and paused at the landing. He leaned over the railing. Julia was out of sight so that the house appeared to be empty. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard it again.

Willie.

Willie gasped, a sound full of shock and fear. He swayed, and his shoulder knocked against the wall to his left, creating a hard thump.

Julia strode out of the drawing room and frowned up at the young man. He was huddled against the wall with his eyes tightly shut. “Willie, what are you doing out of bed?” Willie clenched his teeth and shook his head. She hurried up the steps to him and grasped his arms. “Willie, what’s wrong?”

A shuddering breath escaped Willie’s lips as he opened his eyes. They were filled with terror, but their deepest depths revealed a haunted longing. “I-I gotta go.”

Julia studied him with her suspicious gaze. “Where must you go, Willie?”

He lifted his gaze to the front doors behind her. “Nowhere. I just gotta go.”

He tried to push past her, but she gripped his arms tighter and dug her heels into the step boards.

“I do not believe that would be a good idea. You’re obviously in some sort of mental shock and you should sit down so I can examine you.”

Willie’s mouth twisted in anger as he jerked back, freeing himself from her hold. “I’m fine, now just lemme through.” He shoved past her and to the doors.

“Willie! Willie, come back!” Julia shouted at him as she rushed after the young man.

Willie grabbed the knob and flung it open. He started back when two figures shrouded in the darkness of night stood on the other side. Memories of the earlier evening revived within his fraught mind. He stumbled back and shook his head. “N-no. You stay away from me! You stay away!”

The strain was too much. Willie’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the floor.

“Willie!” Julia shouted.

The figures stepped into the candlelight and revealed themselves to be Barnabas and Professor Stokes. Barnabas hurried to Willie’s side and knelt on the floor while Julia did the same on the other side. Stokes stood over the whole affair with his usual stoic demeanor.

Barnabas looked up at the good doctor. “When did he awaken?”

“I think only a few minutes ago,” Julia replied as she studied Barnabas with a frown. “And where have you two been? Sightseeing across all of Collinsport?”

“The mist trapped us in the woods until only a few minutes ago,” Barnabas told her.

“It may be the spirits keeping anyone from interfering with the trial,” Stokes added.

“There might not be a trial if they scare him to death,” Julia mused as she lifted Willie’s arm and slid his sleeve back to test his pulse. Her eyes flickered up to Barnabas. “His pulse is abnormally fast, and his skin is as cold as ice.”

“Why was he leaving the house? And why didn’t you stop him?” Barnabas asked her.

She jerked her head up and glared at him. “I believe he was leaving the house to go there, and I couldn’t stop him because he refused to even sit down. Now—” she looped her arms around one of Willie’s and partially stood, “—help me get him into the drawing room. He’ll be more comfortable there.”

“The mist trapped us in the woods until only a few minutes ago,” Barnabas told her.

“It may be the spirits keeping anyone from interfering with the trial,” Stokes added.

“Why was he leaving the house? And why didn’t you stop him?” Barnabas asked her.

Together the pair dragged Willie to one of the chairs in front of the crackling fire and set him on the seat where he leaned back. Willie’s head lolled to one side and his face scrunched up in fear. His hands tightly grasped the arms of the chair and his body tensed, but his eyes remained shut.

Stokes followed them and studied the young man from afar. “Willie has had quite a shock to his system. I wonder how he could have been standing.”

Julia shook her head. “He acted like he was—I don’t know, like he was possessed or something. He became angry with me when I tried to get him to sit down.”

Barnabas’ attention flickered between Willie and the professor. “Do you have any ideas on how to free Willie from this sentence?”

Stokes straightened and shook his head. “Only one, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“Try me,” Barnabas challenged him.

Stokes turned to him. “We must let Willie go to the cliffs.”

Julia’s mouth dropped open. “But if we let him go there he may die!”

“Or worse,” Barnabas added.

“That may be a risk we must take if we are to save others from a horrible fate, including the missing Carolyn,” Stokes pointed out.

Julia raised her head and frowned at Barnabas. “What about Carolyn?”

He pursed his lips and averted her gaze. “Carolyn is missing or was when we left the house at a little before seven. We were only able to get here in time to stop Willie because the fog lifted somewhat.”

She turned her attention to Stokes. “And you believe Carolyn may become a victim if Willie doesn’t go?”

“It is possible,” he admitted. He paused and fixed his gaze on Willie before holding up a hand. “Quiet. I believe he’s trying to say something.”

“Not there…I don’t wanna go…” Willie mumbled. His body tensed, and he scrunched his face up. “Jason! Jason, no! Don’t do it! Don’t go down there!”

“Do you know to what he eludes?” Stokes asked those present.

“Willie was once partnered with a man named Jason. He left Collinsport some time ago,” Barnabas explained somewhat evasively.

Willie grasped the arms of the chair and his body stiffened. “Maggie. Maggie, ya gotta get out of here. Yer not safe here. He’s going to come soon. Ya gotta leave.”

Barnabas grabbed Willie’s shoulders and gave them a rough shake. “Willie? Willie, can you hear me?”

Willie’s eyes fluttered open and his gaze fell on Barnabas. Recognition was slow in coming, but a moment later he blinked, and the light of memory returned to his eyes. “B-Barnabas?”

Barnabas smiled and nodded. “Yes, and I’ve brought Professor Stokes with me.”

“How do you feel, Willie?” Stokes asked the young man.

Willie tried to sit up, but his head pounded again. He winced and fell back. “Like somebody hit me with somethin’ hard.”

“What made you come downstairs?” Stokes wondered.

Willie’s eyes widened, and he grasped the fronts of the arms of the chair with shaking hands. “The voice. It was calling me.”

“What voice?” Julia spoke up.

Willie swept his eyes over the three around him. “Her voice. The woman from the cliff. She was tellin’ me to come to her. I—” He shut his eyes and shuddered. “I didn’t want to go, but she was makin’ me.”

Willie.

Willie shot up with wide eyes. “T-there it is again!” He tried to stand, but Barnabas held him in the chair. “Lemme go, Barnabas! I gotta go to her!”

“You need to remain here,” Barnabas insisted.

“If you insist on keeping him here then we must take the proper precautions,” Stokes spoke up.

“Such as?” Julia inquired.

“Bells will frighten the spirits away, and we might put screens over the keyholes to keep them at bay.”

Julia shook her head. “I don't understand. What will screens do against ghosts?”

“Spirits are forced to count the holes, and by the time they are finished in their task it will be daybreak,” he explained.

Willie leaned forward and looked up into Barnabas’ face with pleading eyes. “Please, Barnabas, ya gotta let me go.”

Barnabas shook his head. “We cannot allow that, Willie. You must remain here until sunrise.”

“No!” Willie shouted before he yanked himself free of Barnabas’ grasp and knocked his former master to one side.

Barnabas fell to the floor as Willie raced past the other two and to the door. He flung them open and slipped out into the mist.

Stokes and Julia helped Barnabas to his feet, but he shrugged off their kindness and nodded at where Willie had gone. “We must follow him!”

The three rushed to the doors but paused just outside the walls of the Old House. The fog had returned in full force, blocking them from seeing more than a yard in front of their faces.

Julia glanced at Barnabas. “What are we going to do?”

Barnabas peered at the wall of white and tightened his grip on his cane. “We must make our way carefully to the cliffs and hope we’re not too late.”

He hurried into the mist with his two companions close behind.

Willie stumbled into the woods, the tree limbs whacking him with cruel punishment as he ran head-long through their sharp, bare points. He shoved them out of the way in his blind effort to run through the heavy brush, the voice urging him ever onward.

Willie. Willie.

His ragged breath escaped his parted, parched lips. The mist surrounded him and wrapped him in its cold, damp embrace. His clothes caught on the branches, and more than once he struggled to free himself from their harsh grasp. His lungs complained of the ill-treatment and his feet stumbled over rock and root.

Willie. Willie.

The path widened before him. Willie’s foot caught on one of the many rocks and he fell forward onto his knees. His hands slammed down on the hard dirt in front of him so that he was hunched over the rough ground.

Shadows stretched across the ground and fell over him. Willie raised his head and his breath caught in his throat.

The three women stood over him as he knelt only a few yards from the edge of Widows’ Hill. Their wet clothes clung to their frail, rotting bodies, those that were so long ago dashed upon the rocks below. They stared at him with red eyes, those terrible orbs that held neither kindness nor mercy.

Willie’s body quivered as he sat back on his heels. “P-please don’t,” he pleaded with his judges as he shifted back a foot. “please don't do this.” They were unmoved.

Two of the women floated over to his sides while the bride stood before him. She was chief justice in this court of supernatural law, and she raised a spectral finger at him. Her terrible voice echoed over the wind-swept cliffs. Willie Loomis, you have sinned against man.

Willie’s face was a picture of terror as he shook his head. “I-I didn’t mean to! I didn’t wanna hurt anyone!”

You failed to drive your own destiny, and in so doing you caused the destruction of many.

Willie cupped his head in his hands and his shaky voice hinted at barely-suppressed sobs. “I couldn’t do anythin’. I swear it!”

Do not lie to us. Your soul is as black as the waters that keep our spirits trapped on this plane. For that we have judged you guilty of your crimes.

Willie raised his head and stared at her with wide eyes swimming in horror. “W-what are ya gonna do with me?”

The bride stepped aside and pointed her accusing finger at the cliffs. The cliffs await.

Willie’s mouth moved up and down a few times before sound spilled out. “N-no.”

The bride arched an eyebrow. What did you say?

Willie’s head was bowed. He pressed his palms against the front of his thighs and clenched his teeth. “I won’t do it.”

Do you defy your fate?

Willie lifted his head and stared into her horrible red eyes without flinching. “I couldn’t stop those other things from happening, but I ain’t gonna let you make me go jump off a cliff.” He climbed to his feet and stood to his full height. The ghosts flitted away a few yards and stood shoulder-to-shoulder before him as he glared at the three. “Then I’d be as bad as you, and if there’s one sin I never thought about it’s takin’ my own life.”

The bride narrowed her eyes at him. Are you judging us?

Willie shook his head. “No, ma’am, but I’m saying yer not fit to do anythin’ but go back where you came from.”

The bride curled her lips back and revealed two rows of long, sharp teeth. Her eyes glowed brightly enough to illuminate her entire face as she snarled at him. We have passed judgment on you, and we will not be denied.

She tilted her head back and let loose a terrible scream. The sound pierced Willie’s ear drums, making him cry out as he clapped his hands over his ears. The two lesser women swooped over and grabbed his ankles. They yanked the young man forward, throwing him off his feet and onto his back on the hard ground. The air was knocked from his lungs as they dragged him across the hard rocks toward the edge of the cliff. Willie squirmed and thrashed in their clawed hold, but he couldn’t reach them as they pulled at him in uneven spurts.

“Oh no you don’t!”

The ghosts stopped their tugging and looked past Willie at the woods. Willie leaned his head back and followed their gaze. A woman stood at the edge of the trees. Her face was hidden by the shadows of the bare limbs, but he could see she wore strange attire—a hooped dress down to her ankles with high boots covering her feet. A purple boa was wrapped around her wide, padded shoulders.

Her body was aglow in a soft white light, though unlike the spirits Willie couldn’t see through her. His shoulders drooped. This was another ghost brought forth by vengeance to torment him.

The woman stamped the heel of her black, high-laced boot on the ground and stabbed a finger at the same spot. “You put ‘im down this instant or Ah swear Ah'll knock yer arses flat!” A thick Cockney accent revealed her place of birth and the tawdry words she spoke revealed her descent.

The bride floated up to Willie and sneered at the newcomer. Do not interfere.

The woman put her hands on her hips so that her boa rose up behind her like a ruffled fur coat. “Ah won’t say it again, love. You put ‘im down right now or Ah’m gonna get mad.”

The bride scoffed. What are you to us and our judgment?

The woman scoffed. “Your judgment? Is that what ya call this?” She waved her hand at the spectacle of two specters holding Willie by his ankles. “Looks more like a murder, if ya ask me, and Ah would know about that sort of thing.”

We are not to be judged, the bride argued.

The newcomer tilted her head back and released a musical laughter. “So that’s your game, love? Dragging along ‘andsome young men to their deaths because ya don’t like ‘em, is that it?”

Willie tried to wiggle his way out of the hold of the spirits, but they gave a great yank and dragged him closer to the edge. He twisted around onto his stomach and wrapped his arms around a large rock.

“You let ‘im alone now!” the newcomer insisted as she marched forward.

Willie’s eyes widened as he beheld Carolyn, but she was very changed. Her blonde hair was done up in a conical mess of strands, some of which fell into her face. Purple ribbons and bows adorned her wild bun, and her cheeks were heavily rouged with makeup.

The ghosts gave a yank on his legs, bringing him out of his stupor. He pressed close against the cold stone that was his savior and looked to Carolyn. “Get out of here, Carolyn!” he shouted.

Carolyn ignored him and marched past Willie. The spirits who held him hissed at the light that pulsed from her body as the brilliance fell over them. They released Willie and floated back to join their harpy sister close to the edge of the cliffs. They huddled together like the gorgons of old, snarling and hissing at the light that reproached them.

Carolyn stopped in front of Willie and faced the widows. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the hags. “Now you gentlewomen git along now! Ah won’t let you ‘urt ‘im!”

The bride sneered at her. You cannot banish us. We will always be here, the bride snarled.

“That may be, but you’re not getting ‘im, now or ever,” Carolyn snapped as she waved her hands at them. “Now git! Git along and don’t ya dare try to ‘arm ‘im again!”

The light around her form stretched outward toward the women. They screeched like banshees and retreated backward away from the soft, warm glow. The harpies reached the edge and for a moment they were suspended over the very air beyond the rocks. Then with many fearful shrieks they dropped out of sight.

The thick fog that had surrounded the area swooped down after the women like an obedient dog, and in a moment the air was clear. The moon shone brightly down on the top of the rocky cliffs and soothed the weary bones of the young man.

Willie turned around and sat up as he gawked at the woman before him. A name slipped into his mind like the unbidden remembrance of a sweet dream. He couldn’t help but say it aloud.

"Pansy.”

The woman turned to face him, and her gay laughter filled the air. His heart leapt at the sound, but not out of fear. Was it relief?

She leaned down and offered him one of her illuminated hands, clad in purple gloves. “Ya were always in need of a bit of looking after, love, but that’s what Ah liked about ya.”

Willie leaned forward and squinted his eyes. The face was that of Carolyn, and yet not. There was a spark there, a spark of humor and fire that bespoke a different soul. His question came out in a hesitant whisper. “Do I…do I know you?”

She laughed again, and memories flitted through Willie’s mind. Memories that weren’t his, and yet he wanted to claim them. There was Collinwood but changed. It was a different time among different people who looked so much like many of those he knew now. Emotions swept over him, and he could feel love and tragedy intermingle in a tapestry that ended with grief and determination, and finally fear and despair.

The woman knelt in front of him and cupped one of his cheeks in her hand. A teasing smile danced across her lips as she studied him with her bright eyes. “You kept a girl waiting a long time to see you again, love. Now—” she leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his forehead before she drew back, “There’s a lucky one for the road and this is from me.” she moved in again, but this time her lips pressed against his in a gentle, loving touch.

Willie was stunned, but only for a moment before an urge made him press his hand against the back of her head and lean in to deepen the kiss. By the time they parted they were both out of breath.

Her cheeks were flushed as she fanned her hand toward her face. “Lord love ya, but ‘ow you could kiss, Carl.” Willie started back. It was a name he couldn’t claim, but one that had a familiar ring to it. She tilted her head to one side and studied him with a deep sigh. “Now you be takin’ care of yourself, love. Ah can’t be coming around all the time ‘elping ya out with them ghosts.”

Willie shook his head as tears unbidden slid down his cheeks. “I-I don’t understand.”

She laughed, and his heart was swelled with joy and sorrow. “Ya don’t ‘ave to, love, now take care of yourself until we meet again.”

Carolyn’s eyes rolled back, and she fell forward. Willie caught her in his arms just as Barnabas and the others reached the edge of the woods.

“Willie!” Barnabas called out as he rushed to the young man’s side. His eyes widened as he beheld the unconscious Carolyn. “What happened?”

Willie lay Carolyn on the ground and brushed a strand of wild hair out of her face. An unbidden smile slipped onto his lips as he shook his head. “I’m not sure, Barnabas, but I think we need to get Miss Carolyn back to the house.”

Julia knelt on Carolyn’s other side and looked across the young woman to Willie. “But how did she get here through the fog?”

Willie averted his gaze from hers. “I-I don’t know, but this ain’t no place for a lady to be.”

“I will escort her home,” Barnabas offered.

“Not this time,” Willie argued as he slipped his arms beneath her. He stood with Carolyn cradled against his chest and looked Barnabas in the eyes. “I’ll take her.” Barnabas arched an eyebrow but nodded.

“I’ll follow you,” Julia offered, and together the three walked in the direction of Collinwood.

Stokes strode over to the edge of the cliff and looked over. Barnabas joined him at the edge. “I wonder what could have happened to cause them to retreat.”

“Perhaps they judged Willie innocent of whatever crimes he committed,” Barnabas suggested.

Stokes nodded, but his expression showed his doubts. “Perhaps.” He cleared his throat and turned to Barnabas. “But we might as well return to Collinwood and finish the night on a high note.” With that they followed their friends into the woods.

***

The group reached Collinwood a few minutes later with Willie still carrying his precious cargo. At the arch above the door he heard a moan and looked down in time to watch Carolyn’s eyes flutter open. She blinked at him a few times before she squinted up at him.

“Willie?”

He smiled back at her. “Hiya, Miss Carolyn.”

Carolyn looked down at her position and frowned. “Willie, why are carrying me?” She glanced at her surroundings and the look of befuddlement only increased. “And why are we outside? When did I get out here?”

He set her on her feet but supported her by holding onto her arms. “Don’t you remember anything?”

She grasped her temple and stared hard at the ground. “I…I remember putting on my dress and coming down. The guests were arriving, and then I heard this strange song.”

“A song?” Barnabas asked her.

She nodded. “Yes. It sounded like a song you’d hear in an old bar. A woman was singing it. I swear I heard it outside, so I went out there and…and then…” she shut her eyes and shook her head, “I don’t remember anything until I woke up in Willie’s arms.” She opened her eyes and glanced up at him. “Where’d you find me?”

Barnabas stepped up and smiled at her. “Just down the lawn near the trees. A fog came in and you must have fallen and knocked yourself unconscious.”

“Let me help you to your room so I can have a look at you,” Julia offered as she grasped the young woman’s upper arms.

Julia turned Carolyn away, but the young woman paused and half-turned back to Willie. There was a quizzical expression on her face as she studied him. “Did…did something happen between us?”

For a moment Willie had the strange urge to answer in the affirmative, but he smiled and shook his head. “It was nuthin’.” Carolyn tilted her head to one side for a moment before she turned away and let Julia lead her inside.

Barnabas turned to Professor Stokes. “It appears your services weren’t needed after all.”

Stokes nodded. “Yes, and I am glad for it. If you will excuse me I will rejoin the party.” He bowed his head and slipped into the house.

Barnabas stepped up to Willie’s side and caught his attention. His voice was low and soft as he studied the young man. “What really happened on those cliffs, Willie?”

Willie rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at where Carolyn had gone. A playful smile curled the corners of his lips and a mischievous glint slipped into his eyes. “I don’t know, Barnabas. I don’t really know.”

Heidi Willard is an apprentice to the world of Dark Shadows, but an old master at producing tons of words that people occasionally want to read. She’s a writer on the run from distractions who lives on the edge of sagebrush and sanity with her cats and some guy who keeps insisting she call him ‘Hubby.’ She finds pleasure in reading, playing with her cats (when they’re not trying to tear her apart with ‘love’), and cooking until her husband pleads with her to stop.