Nestled on Lake Superior in northern Wisconsin is a small, secluded town called Bloodmoon Cove with volatile weather, suspicious folk…and newly awakened ghosts.

Don’t close your eyes…

 

 

 

 

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Prologue

Holly

 

Friday, May 20th

 

“What did you tell Mommy and Daddy?” six-year-old Rime asked as they approached, in a skipping gait, the threshold of the gated archway. This path led into the fragrant “stone” garden kissed by spring rain and sunshine. The little girl’s father’s Beagle followed them, as eager as a new puppy sniffing every delicious trail.

My favorite place as a child, Holly Odwulf–who’d been no older than fifty-years old for as long as she could remember–thought fondly, drawing in the lush, perfumed air and all the things of nature that sustained her while she in turn blessed them. Down to the very smallest animal just born and the seed still hiding under the earth, she lavished her bounty, sending it forth on the warm breeze. In her current state, she never failed to see all the wonders ahead through dazzled eyes, but in her true form the beauty was even more of a fantastical feast for the senses.

“That I was babysitting you, of course,” Holly told the child, barely holding a straight face.

Rime looked up at Holly with her obsidian, otherworldly eyes, her rosebud mouth gaping. That was all it took. Holly burst out laughing, and Rime’s lyrical giggles immediately joined in. As if the six-year-old-going-on-thirty needed babysitting. Rime was the perfect balance of innocence and maturity. She could amply take care of herself.

Holly lifted an eyebrow of intrigue. “I believe your parents are enjoying the time to themselves while you and I shall find much to amuse ourselves this day.”

With exaggerated abandon, Holly kicked off her shoes, and Rime shed her own with great delight. Along the paved path ahead, the gate opened at Holly’s volition. Together, the old woman and the little girl ran through it, the dog rushing and barking excitedly as it tried to keep up on its short legs.

Rime didn’t see the gate closing behind them once they were inside. She was too enraptured, taking in the thriving green of this preserve that held ethereal plant life and diverse creatures to be found nowhere else but within this hidden sanctuary. The Beagle followed in their wake, playful as a pup. Though once he’d been afraid of such creatures, the veil had been lifted from his eyes. Now he leapt beside the does and their newborn fawns, flitted alongside birds and brightly colored insects, vaulted with the woodland animals, and danced with fairies, nymphs, gnomes, griffins, and sylphs, along with the profusion of other mystic creatures that dwelled in this place. Rime gasped anew every second as she spotted something different, but as yet she hadn’t moved from the entry.

Holly smiled as she arranged colorful foliage into an impromptu dress. Once she was properly attired, she laid her hand in mid-transformation gently on the child’s shiny black head. Finally sensing something unfamiliar beside herself, Rime looked up and her eyes widened in delighted surprise. “Frau Holle!” she exclaimed in delight. “You’re so beautiful! I knew you would be even more wondrous in your true form than you are as a grand dame.”

Holly soaked up the compliments with a smile, then slyly flicked out her tail, anticipating another joyful gasp from the child that came even as Rime reached forward and wrapped her arms around the long, bushy brush Holly sported in her true form as the most powerful guardian of the forest. Rime buried her face in Frau Holle’s–or Huldra or Holda, as she was sometimes also called–silken red fox tail, stroking it so Holly purred.

“I want to see everything,” Rime murmured. The child draped the luxurious tail around her shoulders like a fur cape. She glanced up at Holly. “Can I take my gloves off here?”

The long, velvet gloves had been custom-made for her, infused with the exact variant of cold resistant, high alloy steels that allowed her to touch objects and people for at least a minute or two before the innate chill activated. Her mother Ice also wore them, though she no longer did it out of necessity. She’d passed her gifts on to her daughter before Rime was born, and now everyone assumed they shared a skin disorder to account for the albeit fashionable, elbow-length gloves that harkened back to a more genteel age. Rime’s gloves provided elegant, though limited protection to everyone and everything around her.

Holly tenderly stroked Rime’s waist-length hair. “I wish you could, mon coeur, but your power is too strong, even here.”

“I wish I could take my true form here, too,” Rime said, suddenly rebellious.

Holly murmured gentle compassion, unwilling to rein in the child’s passion, despite the need to curb her physical enthusiasm. Ice had trained her offspring well, almost from the time she was born. Rime would never hurt a living being. Even when she got older, once the Chenoo shapeshifting blood reached the fever stage, Holly didn’t believe Rime was capable of willingly doing harm.

“You’ll be strong in your true form. When you’re older and able to transform, nothing will be able to stand against you.”

The confidence in the little girl’s face was a testament to the pride that ran in all Chenoo icewalker blood–the very thing that was their downfall sooner or later. Holly had often wondered if Ice’s strict though loving training would make a difference once Rime was mature enough to transform. Ice herself had been tested in this regard. Her overwhelming power had destroyed countless acres of forestland along with all the living creatures within it–the good perished along with the evil that bound them. Ice alone had been capable of defeating the malevolent being that dominated that area of the woods. Her unfettered display could have continued so the entire world might easily have been consumed. But Ice had remembered who she was, what she stood for, those she loved, and she’d chosen to give up her power rather than to continue her devastation. All that she’d possessed–passed down by her mother before her in order to ensure that one of their own would be strong enough for the task given to them in its time–Ice had given over to her daughter in hopes of teaching Rime how to use the ability for good. Never once had she realized that her daughter would be the one to face what she and her mother had inadvertently prepared for.

But no one can predict how that kind of superiority will taste to the uninitiated. It may be so sweet and addicting, there’s no way to deny it. Alternately, wielding it could sting, so terror kicks in, instead paralyzing the bearer.

Holly sighed. Can I really say that it’s a good thing Rime may never be tested in this regard? She literally holds the level of authority in her fingertips that warriors and kings have longed for since the beginning of time. And it’s been condensed and purified in her. There’s never been, nor will there ever be, another like her with her might. Her mother has shown her the blood price of possessing such supremacy, and Rime herself has chosen to forgo exerting it except when it can be used to best serve humanity, not harm it.

Holly gestured with her limbs around the peaceful nature sanctuary. Here, in her true form, as well as in the greater realm of human beings, her own authority was considerable. The soul of the woman she’d come to inhabit, Holly Odwulf, had been good and kind, and she’d gone on to become a beacon and something of an oddball byword in Erie County. She’d used her riches and influence to do good as a human. But that was only half of her existence.

“My limoniades are also fierce, mon Coeur. My meadow children love me, they choose to serve me and, alongside me, protect the good in this world. You asked me once why I haven’t given you a plant name, one that will allow me to invoke my protection over you and, in turn, give you permission to summon my specially trained animals to your side at a moment’s notice. You, mighty one, have no need for protection. Your power surpasses all others, even my own.”

Rime looked up at her longingly, then gasped as she realized that the fierce cold seeping through her gloves was beginning to freeze Holly’s furry tail and cause her pain. The child pulled away quickly, sorrow filling her expression until she backed directly into the velvety muzzle of Eikthyrnir. Whirling, Rime caught her breath at the sight of the pure-white, heavenly stag, larger than any other animal in this preserve and much more majestic. His horn rack was as abundant as the oldest, strongest tree, branching and exuding healing rivers from its every limb. Gathered around him were those drawn from his abundance: Dáinn, Dvalinn, Duneyrr, and Duraþrór.

“It’s said that these harts eat from among the branches of the world tree Yggdrasill. When the morning dew gathered in their horns, the rivers of the world were formed.” Carefully, Holly introduced her beloved servants, those she called “her men” in public, one by one. They each whispered, “My queen” with adoring reverence toward their protector.

Then all five pure white stags bowed low before Rime. In astonishment, the little girl turned to look up at Holly. The question why formed in her dark eyes for just a moment before she realized her power was recognized here as humbly as Holly’s own. Rime nodded. “I don’t want to hurt anyone or anything with my power.”

“That may change, dear one, especially when you encounter evil again, as you did not long ago while with the Mino-Miskwi elder guardian.”

There was no question that Rime would, and soon, just as Holly had been dealing with aberrations coming out of the torn veil more and more often of late. Swallowing, the child murmured, “It will happen soon, won’t it, Frau Holle?”

Holly took her hand. Together, they walked along the natural paths of the garden. “Are you frightened, mon coeur?” she asked gently.

“Aren’t you?”

Holly nodded. “I am. I fear for the town. I fear for precious souls that may be lost. For my children. There will be many changes. Some that will make us grieve. Some that will alter the fabric of life as we know it. But, in the end, these things must come to pass. They will allow us to correct the imbalance. We are called to fill roles in what’s to come, just as are others that live in Bloodmoon Cove. Remember, in the end you and I will have made a difference. Do you know what it is you are to do, lovely one?”

Rime leaned her head against the leaves at Holly’s side. “Yes…but…”

This young child had known her purpose from birth, perhaps even before.

“What if we can’t do it, Frau Holle? What if we’re not strong enough, or…we’re not sure we’re doing the right things?”

Holly knelt beside her. “You’re young, but you hold the wisdom and power of ancients. Not long from now, you will need to be a herald to the younger guardian who doubts his light.”

Rime had inadvertently referred to the guardian of the People in her last question, just as Holly referred to this one in her words. The elder and younger were two sides of a powerful coin.

“You alone can show him the way.”

“How?”

“Verify what he already knows deep inside. The truth hides in the darkest parts of his being. He fears believing because all those who came before choose wrong paths–routes they believed led to power but instead revealed their own folly. He chooses the path of wisdom–but he is not alone. There is another, but that one has refused to invoke the Old Ways out of irrational fear. A time is coming when the ancient powers must be reawakened.”

Rime nodded, understanding. “How will I know I’m needed?”

Holly’s laughter was the tinkling of a bell. “Because the light will ask you, dear one, and you’ll tell him he already knows the way–he just needs to believe he’s on the correct course.”

“Will I believe? How can I believe what I don’t know?”

“You will. You’ll understand when the time comes. Trust me. It’s your purpose, and every avenue leads to that.”

“So we’ll succeed?”

Holly straightened. “Of course we will, mon coeur. Never doubt this. We can’t be hampered by doubt. If we don’t believe, no one else can and will.”

Rime’s face was sullen. “It doesn’t seem easy to do. But I do trust you.”

“Good. And it may not be as difficult as you’re assuming.” Holly leaned forward, as if she had a secret to share. Rime giggled as Holly’s soft grass, flower, and moss hair brushed against her cheek. “All we must do is put one foot in front of the other. Take one single step at a time. What needs to be done will be accomplished when we follow the path we know belongs to us.

“Never fear, dear one. I feel your trust in me, and it gives me strength. All these things are already in place, and they will happen soon. When the time comes, trust that we’ll know what to do and how to do it.”

“I will, Frau Holly.”

Smiling, Holly twitched her once more soft and bushy tail and tickled the little girl’s nose. When she straightened, they talked and walked, hand-in-hand again for only a moment or two at a time, greeting the fantastical creatures that came out to peek at them and receive their blessing.

“The garden will be gone once it’s done, won’t it?” Rime asked sadly. “Once the veil is mended and the balance of nature is restored?”

Holly murmured in the affirmative. This grief was always with her. But not only her magical garden would disappear on that day, when what did not belong in this realm returned to its own, as needs must. Holly knew as they passed the evil creatures in their midst–all caged or encased in stone or glacier–that, in that final hour, things would be as they were meant to be.

Dvalinn approached, bowing as he said, “My queen; young icewalker, the guests are beginning to arrive.”

Every Friday, Holly invited friends and soon-to-be friends from all over the town and county and sometimes even from other parts of the world to join her for an elaborate dinner party. Tonight, she and Rime would play hostesses to the ones she’d chosen to attend.

“Then the Princess Rime and I shall go and dress for dinner. Make our visitors comfortable until we join them, will you, darling?”

“Of course, my queen.”

Dvalinn took his leave, and Holly smiled down at her young charge. “Come, mon coeur. Tonight we shall wear the clothing of humans. Let us put on the dress of mundane flesh and blood once more.”

“Do we have to leave the garden already?”

Holly grinned. “If you can stay awake, young one, I promise you we’ll return once our guests depart, when the moon bathes my preserve in a black velvet blanket of twilight stars, and you’ll see things in this wonderland such as you’ve never even imagined.”

“I will stay awake,” Rime promised, though Holly knew she wouldn’t and couldn’t. The little girl called her Beagle to her. Already, this innocent child was blissfully leaving behind the sorrows that would be held in store for another fateful day.