Woods of the Raven Read Online Mary Calmes

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
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“No? You’re sure?”

“So sure.”

“Then who were they?”

“They were a cult.”

“What kind of cult?”

“The kind that was trying to open a door to another world. Did you not listen to the song?”

“I haven’t, but I will,” I promised him. “I don’t know why but I was sure I read a journal or something in here about them.”

“Yeah. You read that account by the journalist who investigated them, right?”

“I think so. It was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, well, the journalist, CB Wright, he talks about Hillary Newcastle, the one who jumped, remember?”

“Of course I remember.” I saw her every time I passed by the bridge.

“Well, she was in love with the blacksmith in town, Spencer Phelps, and her parents said they couldn’t be married, so he left and she jumped.”

“I know. It’s a horrible story.”

“But that’s not what happened.”

“No?”

“No. She was going to run away with Spencer, no matter what, but he was killed by the cultists.”

“Why?”

“Because they pledged their lives to a god they had to bring through the doorway, as they called it.”

A rift.

Dominic said, “I thought it was a veil, like the one you say lifts at Halloween, but it’s not. That veil is between the living and the dead, right?”

I nodded.

“Yeah. That’s not the doorway the cultists were trying to open.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s all in Wright’s account that he was putting together for some paper.”

“Why would anyone care?”

“You have to remember that back then the Spiritualism movement was new and gaining momentum. Think about people like the Fox sisters from Rochester. They did a big business.”

“But that was a hoax.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean Spiritualism as a whole was, and people devoured stories about it. I’m betting that CB Wright and his cult of people trying to open a doorway to another world would have been huge.”

“Was the account ever published?”

“No, but for whatever reason, he kept the journal he wrote it in, and put it in the town archives when he left Osprey.”

“I wonder why.”

Dominic shrugged. “I don’t know, but—hey, did you know that one of Spencer’s best friends was your ancestor, Mattie Corey?”

“No, I didn’t. Do tell.”

“Yeah, so apparently, Spencer helped her put iron in the bricks of your home or in the doors or, I dunno, something like that. In Wright’s journal, it says it was foundational, but it’s like a side note he doesn’t explain. Anyway, the important part is how he says that when Spencer was going to pick up Hillary, he was kidnapped and murdered.”

My heart had always hurt for Hillary, and now it was hurting for Spencer as well. “How did Wright know?”

“He saw it happen. He saw Spencer get hit over the head and thrown into the back of a wagon, but when the police followed up on his report and searched the farm near Parker’s Ferry, they couldn’t find any trace of Spencer, so there was nothing they could do.”

I stayed quiet so he’d keep talking.

“But Wright wasn’t giving up, so he went to interview the cultists, and they talked to him for whatever reason, probably because they weren’t afraid of anything he’d say.”

“And?” I couldn’t stop myself from prodding.

“They told him they needed to kill a lot of people and Spencer was just the first.”

“Of how many?”

“They didn’t say, probably didn’t want him alerting the authorities which—c’mon—no one was listening to him anyway, so what did it matter?”

“Sure,” I agreed sadly. “I wonder why they didn’t kill him?”

“He was a journalist, right? He wasn’t from here. He would’ve been missed.”

It made sense. “What else did they tell Wright?”

“They told him that they were supposed to use corpses to bridge the doorway.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Oh, I agree. They went on to say that the bodies were supposed to be laid half on our side, the human side, and half into another realm.”

“And then the god could walk over them all, like a bridge, and be here in Osprey,” I said, thinking of my dream.

“That was their belief, yes.”

“So this account by Wright, he says this could bring the god into our world?”

“They certainly believed so.”

“But just him, singular?”

Dominic squinted at me. “Who else would be coming?”

“His soldiers, his retinue. His minions.”

“Yeah, but to do that, in theory, they’d need to kill a lot of people.”

Yes, exactly. Which, again, went back to my dream. “That would be tragic.”

“It would be, yes,” he agreed. “Can I ask you something?”

I nodded.

“Do you have journals from your family at your cabin?”

“It’s a cottage, actually,” I clarified.

“Oh yeah, sure. But do you have stuff like that there?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if you come across anything by Mattie Corey, I’d love to read it.”

“Of course.”

“Because Wright didn’t know where the cultists were thinking to open the doorway, but maybe Mattie did. I like to think of her as an avenging angel, after they killed her friend, making it her mission to foil the plot to bring the god over.”


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