Page 10

AVERS MILL WAS QUIET this Sunday morn.

Sitting atop Abyss, leaving the carriage behind at my shadow-riddled home, I rode through the muddy dirt streets with a myriad of emotions lodged in my chest. The memories of my life here, good and bad, flowed over me like a summer shower. The general store was closed as was the town hall and the barbershop. I rounded the corner. There stood what was left of the town stable.

“Whoa,” I said, squeezing Abyss behind the girth with both legs as I took a deeper seat in the worn leather saddle.

The hell stallion was a magnificent animal, incredibly well-trained but always eager to push his boundaries. Riding through the portal betwixt realms in a saddle was quite an experience. How I’d stayed in my seat was down to strong thighs and a stronger will to not die a second time. I’d lost my top hat, so I would need to find another. A task that I was sure would be harder than leaving coins behind for seeds, drawers, or pork loins. I would have to track down Malphus, who had been absent whenever I arrived with a new passenger, to request more funds. I ran my hand down his neck as I sat, reins loose, hands on the pommel, to stare at the charred shell of my aunt and uncle’s livelihood.

What a loss. Not only to Norman and Hester but to the town itself. With no stable to curry and feed the horses that came through on this busy route, then riders and stage coaches would simply bypass Avers Mill for the next town with a sizable stable.

The largest regret, and I had many, was that I was partly responsible for the loss. While I had not started the fire that killed me, it was my actions that predicated it. Telling Theo that I was no longer willing to be his lover had brought about this tragedy. It could be a triple tragedy if he, too, had perished in the inferno. Given that murder is the sixth commandment, his soul must have been judged to be evil, which means somewhere in the vast pits and fire caves of the underworld, Theodore Clifton toiled under the lashes of the overlords of Hell.

If he passed in the blaze. The vindictive part of me hoped it was so and that right now, on this peaceful Sunday morning, the man who had snuffed out my life was cowering at the bird-like feet of Malphus. Hamiel would chide me for those thoughts, and rightfully so, for he was a good, reverent man. I, on the other hand, was a petty one, it seemed. Could this be why I had settled into the role of coachman with such ease? Maybe laying deep within me was a wickedness I had never known existed.

I rode on, leaving the shell of the stables behind, the gentle roll of the horse under me as we passed the small bank on the outskirts of town felt natural. Abyss had a fine gait and enjoyed his head, which I would give to him once we finished our excursion. Whether this was considered a bad ride or not I would soon find out. If a lashing was in my future then so be it. I would at least know the answer to one dark mystery. The other, this familial curse, could only be answered by two people. Malphus or Lucifer. I doubted Malphus would tell me, for what fun was there to be had in giving the cursed the answers they sought. No, I would need to speak to The Tempter himself, and that would be a ride through the rings of Hell. Someday, perhaps, my ignored temper would get the better of me. But for now, for this day, I was seeking answers to a different query.

The lane leading to the mayor’s property was quiet. The sugar maples fully leafed now, and the sound of small birds leaping from bough to branch as the sun warmed the fields was rich in my ears. I missed the song of birds, the buzz of honeybees, and the gentle whisper of a warm breeze through leaves. Purgatory was silent, the skies gray, the ground dusty. No barking dogs, laughing children, or the lowing of cows with full udders. Sound was a blessing I had never taken into consideration before, but now I cherished it each time I left the in-between. And then there were the aromas of summer…

The clomp of hooves on a soft packed dirt road joined in the late morn concerto. The bells of the Baptist church rang out, signaling the ten o’clock hours. Services would start within an hour.

We rounded the corner, Abyss tossing his head in boredom as the mayoral home came into view. I pulled back to a stop as the family was outside getting ready to depart for Sunday services. The mayor, his good wife, his son, and his son’s fiancée. My breath caught in my throat as I gazed at Theo aiding Lillianne into a fine blue carriage pulled by two sleek brown horses. The Cliftons were quite wealthy in horseflesh and were not averse to showing it off. Theo helped the petite redhead up into the carriage, then barked at the young negro stable hand for moving the portable carriage steps too soon. The child sent off with a box to his ears as Theo climbed into the carriage with ease. Lillianne’s servant, a slim, dark-skinned woman, rode with the footman in the back.

I’d always confronted Theo about his misuse of those below him, even though I, too, was technically his inferior. Seated here watching him, myself now a moribund, not wholly dead or alive at his hand, I questioned myself as to what I had ever seen in the man. Yes, I had been incredibly lonely, and yes, he was a reasonably attractive man who was fond of male flesh, but he was an unkind human being. He was nothing like Hamiel. Seeing Theo chatting with his future bride-to-be as if he had not promised to end my life and then seemingly had done just that sickened me. Revulsion at myself ran rampant, only to be taken over with a newfound worry for Lillianne.

She was a sweet girl, the daughter of a banker in the next county, and wholly unknowing of what kind of man she was betrothed to. Someone should warn her about Theo before she does something that he dislikes and harms her—or worse.

I eased Abyss back into a small clump of mountain laurel as they passed. Foolish, I know, since they could not see us. The carriage rumbled along, dust rising as the Cliftons headed into town to attend church as if their only son had not recently sent a man to his early grave. Right, yes, allegedly sent a man to his grave. Hamiel reminded me of that fact whenever we were waiting for another soul to pass. He’d cite the need for proof. I’d then ask what good would it do if we had it. Then, I could counter that unless we had a means of knowing the weather that night, we could only go on assumptions as well as a heated promise to see me dead. It all pointed to Theo setting that fire, but Hamiel wished for more, and so, as he wanted, he was hoping to speak to Ariel. As I cared for Hamiel greatly, I reined in my need to do something—what that something was, I had no clue—and agreed to bide my time.

Abyss shifted under me. “Yes. boy, I know. Let us ride.” I gave the blue carriage a final dark look, then leaned low over the hell steed. “Run until you cannot run any further,” I whispered in his black ear, and we were off. The wind in my ears was deafening. It blew my worries away, cleansing the upset from me as only a hard gallop could. When we reached the portal, Abyss was lathered, I was tousled, and we both felt better. For now.

The next summons came three days after the trip to Avers Mill. I’d spent the time between jobs toiling in the garden behind my home. Delmar had been some help in that he stood beside me with a rake—yet another item I had found in the barn along with a manure fork and a rusty shovel—waving it about to keep the forlorn souls from bothering me. I’d chastised him for swinging at the balls of waning life energy, but he persisted, saying they were bad people. This coming from an imp birthed from the gurgling calderas of Gehenna. During that lull, I’d worked and planted over four rows of vegetables, then watered them and stood back, shirtsleeves rolled to my forearms, with my scarlet gardening assistant at my side, to survey the work.

“I wonder if they will grow without sun.” I looked down at Delmar.

“No sun here. Only gloom. Gloom. Gloom. Gloom. So much gloom.” He ran off to chase souls with his rake. I’d never had a child, nor would I now, but I had to assume having an imp was much like having a perpetual four-year-old.

I’d been more than ready to leave the shadowland when the next calling hit me. Within an hour, I was parked outside a blacksmith shop, eyeing a fine top hat in a haberdasher’s shop window, when a sunbeam broke through the thick clouds. Smiling, I ran my hands over my hair, as Hamiel appeared from the ray, his excitement at seeing me showing in his wide grin.

“Livingstone!” He ran at me, arms open, curls bouncing. I swept him up into the carriage as if he were a feather. His laugh rang out like a Stradivarius violin. I barely had him settled on the coach seat when he slid his fingers into my hair and kissed me. Overjoyed to have him in my arms again, I met his kiss with equal vigor, moving him into my lap. He shuddered at the brush of his shaft over mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth. We drank deeply from each other. “I have so much to tell you. Kiss me again. I have dreamed of your arms and lips for days!”

“Truly?” I asked, brushing tiny pecks along his dewy cheeks and eyes, his lashes fluttering as my lips touched them. He melted into me, his long neck exposed to me. Was it beyond sinful to want to touch and taste this heavenly being? If so, then so be it. What could be done to me? Send my soul to hell? Banish me to a dark, lifeless realm? Place me in the employ of Lucifer for who knows how long?

“Oh yes, truly. I could barely contain myself when the summons came.” He writhed around, his erection grinding into mine, causing me to lose most of my reason and all of my ability to speak. Wicked thoughts of peeling him out of his white coats to feast on his ivory skin overwhelmed me. “This is…I am unsure of what this is, but…oh I do want more.”

His innocence was so appealing. I longed to lay him down and shower him with affection, show him the way of love between two men, and carry him into the heavens in my arms.

“As do I,” I confessed, peppering his brow with kisses. I cradled his face in my hands and gazed into golden eyes as rich as any king’s treasure. His cheeks were pink, his round spectacles askew, and his lips swollen. “But we must go slowly. I do not know what will befall you if it is discovered that you and I are…” I fumbled for the correct term. Even though my heart and soul cried out for more, I knew that he was na?ve about such things as passion. His memory of his life before his death was gone, taking with it any recollection of intimacy. He was virginal in many ways, and that realization helped to douse the fire in me. Just slightly. Enough that I could grasp a sliver of control.

“Rapturously smitten,” he supplied. Yes, that fits quite well.

“That is perfect.” I lifted him from my lap despite his moan of irritation. With a soft grunt, he was placed on the seat. I smoothed out his lapels, patted his curls, and straightened his spectacles. His pout was amusing. “Do you see that hat in the window?”

“Yes, it is a fine hat,” he stiffly replied, his irritation obvious.

“I think I shall buy it.” I gave his knee a pat, climbed from the carriage, adjusted myself, and slipped unseen into the haberdashery. A small old man dozed softly behind the counter, his chin on his chest, his wiry arms resting on his belly. With a practiced ease, something that I was not pleased to have acquired, I lifted the hat from the stand. Placing it atop my head, I was happy to find that it fit well. I placed my last remaining dollar on the windowsill, nodded at the dozing shopkeeper, and then slipped back out. Hamiel was still pouting, but his temper evaporated when he saw me in my new hat.

“You look quite dapper,” he called as I strode up to him, strutting like Beau Brummel himself. I bowed gallantly while waiflike children dashed by in a game of tag. The sounds of a bustling village were enjoyable to me. My home was quiet, deathly so.

“Thank you as do you.” I climbed up, sat down, and placed my hat between us, using it as a barrier for my greedy hands. “So, tell me, what is this news you were so excited to share?”

He sat sideways on the seat, his gaze moving over my face, his pink lips entirely too kissable. “I truly do get lost in your eyes.”

“And I yours,” I confessed. “The news?”

“Oh yes, I’m a bit befuddled. Seeing you does that to me.” He pulled his satchel to his thighs and rifled through it, his tongue caught between his teeth. A horse and buggy passed. Abyss snorted at the roan as it pranced past. “So, I had a most enjoyable visit with Ariel. She is a very pleasant sort who takes her job of overseeing the planet’s elements with great pride. Now, of course, the Lord commands storms, but Ariel has knowledge of anything that affects nature, and a thunderstorm that strikes a stable and kills many horses would certainly be under her watchful eye as she protects animals and plants. To that end, she vividly remembers an outcry from injured horses on the seventeenth of June,” he glanced up from his scrolls filled with notations, his eyes alive with excitement, “in Avers Mill.”

I let that information soak in. “The horses, did they all perish?”

His expression softened. “Such a kind heart you have. No, not all of them. She could not save six. I am sorry. But she is healing fourteen who were burned or injured themselves when the people began to show up to free them. So, that is a good percentage of them on the mend, Livingstone.”

Yes, yes, it was. I hoped that Delilah had escaped. She had always been one of my favorites. A lovely docile mare with dark brown hair and a creamy yellow mane. Many people say that animals are dumb. I disagree strongly.

“I am glad to hear it. That was eating at me. So, now I know the dates on my tombstone, that is if anyone has paid to have one erected in the Avers Mill Cemetery.”

“I am certain your relatives have done so, and with great care.” I nodded for his sake. My great-aunt most certainly would have done something, but my great-uncle? I suspected his only regret was losing a strong back. He and I had never gotten on well. “She also mentioned that during her observations, no storms were in that area, which narrows the causes of your fatal fire to human error or murderous intent.”

“I cannot accept that someone would have been so careless,” I stated. The anger of knowing that not only had I perished, but six innocent animals had lost their lives that night burning brightly. “No, no one that worked there would be so haphazard.”

“I am sure not, and you most especially, but they are only human, Livingstone, and young ones at that. Lads are known to be reckless. I’m sure it was not intentional, but there is a small possibility, is there not?”

I shook my head vehemently. Hamiel sat quietly at my side, chewing on his lower lip, his glances in my direction filled with patient concern. Several moments ticked by as we sat there in silence. I took a long, cleansing breath and released it slowly through my nose.

“There is a small possibility,” I ground out.

He sighed wearily as he nudged his spectacles up his nose. “That was not said with much conviction.”

“That is because none was felt.”

I glanced to the side. He looked crestfallen. I felt his guilt in my breast like the steady thump of the summoning when it first hits. “A threat to a life is something of import, and when it is levied by a man with such anger, it should not be ignored. His own words, coupled with the fact there were no major weather conditions in the area, point a rather large finger of guilt at Theo. I know you wish to think the best of people. That is an endearing quality, but I find that I cannot sift through the ashes of my life to find forgiveness. I hope my dark thoughts do not sour what you feel for me, but those are my honest feelings. I will not lie to you simply to ensure that I can continue to sample your sweet lips when we are together.”

His exhale was mighty, lifting his slim chest under his pristine white tailcoat and shirt. “I understand, Livingstone. The man does seem to be strongly linked to your demise. I wish we had more evidence. Assuming guilt without solid proof is a dangerous thing.”

I nodded. He was right. I was not a lawyerly sort, but even a man with my level of education knew that you could not simply accuse a person of a crime without hard evidence. A threat was not enough. If people could be sent to the gallows for menacing another, there would be bodies swinging all over. While I knew what he said was true, it did not lessen my gut feeling that Theodore had killed me.

“I wish I could say that I did not harbor these malicious thoughts of vengeance, but they linger. They are not godly, this I know. They are vile and bitter, but I only seek some sort of justice for his crimes.” I let my eyes drift shut as the hubbub of normal lives continued to carry on around us. “What sort of justice a man like me can receive, I do not know. There may not be any, but I will do what I can to assure that others are not caught in his web.”

Hamiel slipped his fingers into mine and dropped his golden curls to my shoulder. A generous wave of condolence engulfed me, his comforting essence alleviating some of the rancor I felt for Theo. I lifted his hand to my lips, inhaled the summer sweetness of his skin, and placed a small kiss on his knuckles. “Forgive me for being so dogged by this. We share such limited time and here I sit snarling about an act that I cannot change. He may continue to live his life unfettered and carefree.”

“It is understandable to be pained. If he is responsible, and I do have to agree, the evidence is strong that he did harm you grievously, then he shall pay. It may not be while he walks the earth, but when it is time for his final judgment, his sins will be accounted for.”

“And it may be me who ferries him to the pits.” I could imagine it now, and it felt glorious.

“Though I do not know how long you are to be the coachman. Has none of your superiors ever told you?” A stray cat darted across the street, followed closely by a larger feline. A tom on the trail of a hot queen, no doubt. The drive for sex was strong across the species. I know firsthand that a stallion can scent a mare in estrus from several miles away. “Livingstone?”

“Apologies.” I snapped back to this small street, the wafting smell of a nearby tannery now blowing under my nose. “I was thinking about horses.”

That made him chuckle. A lovely sound indeed. “You do seem to have an affinity for them. Tell me about your youth. Were you always an admirer of fine horseflesh?”

Possibly from hearing the words “fine horseflesh,” Abyss tossed his head up and down as if to ensure we both looked upon his beauty.

“As far as I recall, yes, I was always drawn to horses.” I removed my hat from between us and placed it on Hamiel’s head. The hat slid down to rest on his tiny ears, and he grinned like a jack-o’-lantern. “My childhood was one of hard work and loneliness. My parents had died, and my great-aunt took me in. She was happy to have a small child as her womb had been barren. My great-uncle, a taskmaster with a predilection for hitting anyone who did not jump to his bidding, was less enthralled but felt the payback of food for labor was worthwhile. Until I began to grow.”

“I imagine it must take a goodly amount to feed a young man of your size.” He sat up straight with my oversized hat on his head, blond curls poking out around the shell of his ear. I pushed a random lock back, which made him titter. “Did you not play at all as a little boy?” He wiggled about on the hard seat, tucking his muddy boots under his backside, to stare at me with big golden eyes. “I should imagine you were quite good at boyish games.”

“I was not well-liked by the other children. I was poorly dressed, lived in a horse stable, and had an elderly woman at my side most of the time. The other boys picked at my lack of parents as if it were a scab. For many years, their taunts made me bleed inside. Then, as I grew larger, their taunts dwindled. The first time I punched one of them in the nose and broke it was the last time they called me out.”

His face fell. “Did you not have any good times as a youngster?”

“Why do you wish to hear of my youth? It is not a tale of wonder or excitement. I read a great deal, spent most of my time with an old lady or horses, and worked under a man who would rather use a willow switch than words to make his point.”

“I just…I seem to yearn for that which I do not have. Memories. I do apologize for raking you over hot coals in order to feed my own needs. Your past is yours to speak of as you wish. Forgive me, please.”

“There is no need to ask for forgiveness. I sometimes forget that your recollections are wiped away when you are chosen for heavenly duty.” I chucked his chin up to look into his eyes. As gold as a summer sun, they were bright, holding all manner of succor. “What I do not understand is why that is so. The Lord must see how it pains you to be bereft of the memory of your loved ones.”

“But he does see, and that is why we are washed clean of all earthly attachments. The pain of leaving them behind would be too great. We are given unto his service wholly, much like the sisters and brothers who devote themselves to their callings to take vows of chastity, silence, and or poverty. Those are solemn covenants among the living who are called. I like to imagine that I lived a good life, albeit a short one, and was chosen to serve on the merit of my days on Earth.”

I smiled at the sheer joy in his words. That he was proud to be a rainbow walker was evident. Having to forfeit his memories of his earthly days seemed a small price for him to pay. I wished my life had been one of such brightness to garner being called to heavenly service.

“I find your words enlightening. Thank you. You find great joy in your work.”

“And you do not. Tell me again of this pact that so bounds you to the fallen one. I know that agreements between humans and Lucifer are common, but to hand over a child to the dark one seems…”

He bit down on his bottom lip.

“Yes, there are no words.” I looked away from him to the sky where dark clouds were moving in. Rain was on the wind. Women began pulling down the wash from the lines spread high above the side alleys. “I do not know of the pact, or what it all entails, but discovering why I was offered up like a spring lamb is eating at me like a cancer. Much like knowing that Theo is about to wed a woman who has no inkling about the man she has been pledged to.”

“That is understandable. I want to help in some small way, but we have no knowledge of the deals that are made by the fallen ones. I could visit this young woman in her dreams since we proved I could enter your dreams.”

The distant rumble of thunder rolled over the village. A goose herder hurried her flock past us, the white geese honking as they ran, wings out as the soft pit-pat of raindrops hit the roof of the carriage. The offer was enticing, to be sure, but the moment to reply was lost when Hamiel’s eyes glowed brightly.

“Judgment has been made,” he whispered as if in a state. I nodded, for I, too, had felt the verdict being delivered. The soul, a massive man with arms as thick as oaks, floated from within the smithy shop. I listened for the wail of loved ones, but none could be heard. The bearded spirit seemed reluctant to go. Most were. His shadowy eyes fell on us. I could tell he was not mine to escort. “I must go,” Hamiel whispered as he removed my hat. “We shall talk more. I will think of you every moment that we are parted.”

“And I you,” I softly replied.

He pecked my cheek before leaping down into the soft rain. The smithy wiped his hand on his leather apron, the worry leaving his face as Hamiel took his hand. The storm cloud overhead parted for just a moment to allow a beam of soft yellow light to hit the street. They stepped into it, the walker and the smithy, and then dissolved into flecks of red, yellow, blue, and violet before the thunderhead overtook the sky once more.

I let the rain beat down on me. It brought back memories of being a young lad who never missed a chance to dart out into a downpour simply to splash about in puddles. Many a time Aunt Hester would run out to join me, her laugh loud as we joined hands to sing “Ring around the Rosy” as we were drenched to the skin. I missed her. She brought a small amount of kindness and mothering that I sorely needed. I picked up the reins, water dripping from the brim of my new hat to my thighs, and gave the straps a light flick.

“To Avers Mill,” I called to the horse. Time spent seeking out my great-aunt called. Whether it would be uplifting to see her or not was yet to be discovered.

I rushed to slap my hand to my hat as the horse rocketed from the silent blacksmith shop. We rode into the worst of the storm. The rain hitting my face and hands like shrapnel until we skidded to a jolting stop that nearly tossed me out of my seat. In the middle of a muddy road deep in the woodlands of Massachusetts stood a sodden Malphus.

He did not look pleased.