Lenore clapped a hand over her mouth, frozen in horror . Resurrectionists! In full daylight. The realization of what they dug for made blood roil in her veins in a red fury. They were defiling a child’s grave.
One of the body snatchers spoke. “I don’t like it. We shoulda done this at night.”
The second thief flung a shovel full of mud at his compatriot. “Shut your gob and dig,” he snarled. “Daylight means the bonekeeper won’t be watchin’ for us.”
Lenore’s anger made her careless. “You vile bastards,” she said aloud before freezing in place.
Both thieves spun to face her, shovel handles gripped in dirty fingers—weapons as a last resort to be used on anyone unfortunate enough to witness their crime.
Lenore was the first of the three jolted from their mutual surprise. She opened her mouth, drew a deep breath and screamed for all she was worth. The sound, fueled by sheer terror, exploded from her lungs and carried across the cemetery with the force of an enraged banshee. Both men dropped their shovels to cover their ears, and Lenore used that moment to turn and flee.
Her basket and umbrella lay somewhere in the shrubbery where she dropped them, and she sped down the path, skirt and crinoline hiked up to her knees. A cry went up behind her, much too close.
“Catch that bleedin’ trollop before we both end up ridin’ in the Black Maria!”
Lenore’s breath roared in her ears, even as her feet flew over the ground. Even when she veered from the path to race past headstones and over wild patches of vegetation not yet killed by winter frost, the main gate remained out of reach—as far away as the moon, especially with the resurrectionists hot on her heels.
A snarl sounded behind her followed by a surprised curse. “Stupid mutt!”
Lenore’s eyes filled with tears at the canine yelp of pain. Her erstwhile companion and unexpected protector. She prayed that sound had not been a death cry.
The hard thud of booted feet grew closer along with coarse panting. She didn’t dare look back, and her lungs burned as if she drew fire into her nostrils instead of air.
Fingers touched her shoulder. Lenore screamed and wrenched away. The movement proved her undoing. Her ankle gave, and she fell toward a headstone. She twisted sideways to avoid it, her outstretched hand saving her from splitting her skull open on the unforgiving marble. She hit the ground on her back, pain exploding in both her palm and the back of her head. Black spots burst across her vision, interspersed with colors that blurred and bled together.
A triumphant cackle sounded in her ear, only to be cut short by a gurgle and a snap, as if someone had stepped on a frozen twig. Lenore tried to raise her head only to watch the blurry world turn topsy-turvy. Her stomach heaved in reaction, and she lay still as the sky carouseled madly above her.
Darkness blotted out the anemic sun only to give way to twin stars that blazed white in a black ocean. Someone spoke, and she recognized the voice. Achingly familiar. Oddly hollow.
“Lenore. I have you, my sweet.”
“Nathaniel?” That wasn’t possible. She’d hit the ground a lot harder than she thought.
Icy fingers caressed her face, soothing despite their chill. “All is well, love. You’re safe with me.”
White stars. So distant. So beautiful. Lenore smiled, even as darkness encroached into her whirling vision. “I should make a wish” she said, wondering why the words felt as thick and sticky as treacle in her mouth. “Two wishes.”
She floated above the ground, light as a feather, pressed against velvet woven from night. A steady heartbeat drummed against her ear, and Nathaniel’s voice teased her once more. “What will you wish for, my Lenore?”
Lenore nuzzled her cheek into the soft fabric. “That you come back to me so I can tell you...”The words weighed heavy on her tongue, and a high ringing filled her ears.
The soothing voice rose it above it all. “Tell me what?”
“Tell you yes instead of no.” The white stars disappeared and the voice and ringing with them until she was only the feather, and even that faded to nothing.
She awakened to the pungent scent of cheese mixed with dog breath and the lap of something wet and warm sliding across her cheek. She groaned and covered her face with her arm. “Hello, dog.” The greeting earned her a soft bark and another damp lick, this time near her ear.
Lenore lay still for several moments, resting on her side, and struggled to find her bearings. Someone had removed her bonnet. It rested in the cove of her body, one side misshapen.
The pain in her head had lessened from a tower bell’s clamor to a hand bell’s chime. Her right hand still throbbed, and she raised it for a better look. She’d lost her mitten, and the illumination from an unknown light source revealed the lacerations across her knuckles and the swelling in both her ring and smallest fingers. An experimental wiggle assured her nothing was broken.
She rested on a wooden floor, facing a dark wall of linen fold paneling gone gray with dust and years without a proper oiling. An equally forgotten fireplace interrupted the expanse of wood, the ashes in its grate long cold. Winter sunlight forced its way through the cloudy panes of a nearby window and battled for dominance against the flame of a lit oil lamp on a small table.
Except for the table and two chairs that looked in imminent danger of collapsing if someone dropped so much as a tea cozy on them, the room was bare. Stark and abandoned and colder than a crypt.
The dog pressed against her back and rested its chin on her waist. Lenore welcomed the shared warmth if not the reek of canine exhalations. “Good dog,” she murmured. “Thank you for trying to help.”
She recalled its hurt yelp, the body snatcher’s curses and her sadness that violent death had been the poor creature’s reward for its bravery. She herself might well have perished, not from a thief’s attack but from her own clumsiness. Lenore would have laughed if her head didn’t pain her so much. What a ridiculous eulogy that would be. Lenore Kenward, unfortunate spinster taken far too young by the malevolent machinations of a headstone. She did chuckle then, the sound cut short by the return of the tower bell thrum between her temples.
