The Ghost of Drowned Meadow, page 14
“Welcome home.”
The front door shook, as though someone were rattling the handle from the outside.
“Welcome home.”
Then the screaming began. Not soft and despairing, or even ragged and desperate any longer. These were shrieks of pure rage—the fury of a hurricane given voice.
“It’s him …” Joel’s voice was barely audible beneath the storm and shrieks.
“We have to stop!” shouted Tressa.
“This ghost is homicidal!” agreed Hannah.
But Morgan knew the ghost wasn’t homicidal. It was just frantic to feel safe. To feel comforted. To be let in from the endless cold.
She handed the sage to Joel. “Keep going.”
He bit his lip, nodded, then said loudly, “Welcome home!”
Morgan stood up in the darkness, then turned to the shuddering front door.
“Welcome home!” This time Piper joined Joel.
Morgan walked slowly over to the door and placed her hand on it. She could feel it vibrating with pressure, like it might blow off its hinges at any moment.
“What are you doing?” screamed Hannah. “Don’t open that door! It’s going to kill us!”
But Morgan understood now. Like the woman at the shop said, there was no such thing as evil spirits. This was just a boy named Joseph Klaus who had been sad and lonely, and who wanted more than anything to go home. There was only one thing Morgan could do.
She gripped the handle.
“Morgan! No!” shouted Tressa.
“Don’t do it!” yelled Hannah.
But Morgan threw open the door and thrust out her arms. The wind, rain, and hail buffeted her so hard that she had to close her eyes. But she held firm, hands outstretched.
“Welcome home, Joseph,” she whispered. “You can finally rest.”
And then it stopped.
The shrieks, the wind, the rain, everything.
Morgan opened her eyes. The black storm clouds slowly parted, showing a sliver of blue sky beyond. The sun shone through the gap, and all the threatening rain and hail now glittered on leaves and grass like crystals. The turbulent harbor across the street sparkled like a bed of jewels.
It was possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
When she turned back to her friends, she was grinning from ear to ear.
“Is … it over?” asked Joel.
She shrugged. “I don’t know if he’s gone, but at least he’s not unhappy anymore.”
At the end of the final volume of My Secret Dream of a Boring Life, Zophia Zye, the Night Queen, brought peace between her kingdom and the Undead Kingdom of Nezhit. She didn’t even need to destroy King Srogi to do it. After all, the gift that the mysterious wandering god had given her wasn’t incredible magic power—it was the ability to read and comprehend anything. Not strength, but understanding. That was how, time and again, the loneliest person in the kingdom was able to bring people together, humans and oni, elves and dwarves, even the living and the dead.
Morgan knew what she had done wasn’t nearly as cool. But when she sat in the ice-cream shop with Joel, Hannah, Tressa, and Piper, everyone talking and laughing, it felt close enough.
Her parents hadn’t been mad about the flooding or the cracked windowpane. In fact, they’d been impressed with how well she’d handled herself during the record-breaking storm that had struck Port Jefferson. The worst storm on record since 1937, the news said.
Professor Johnson had been appreciative to accept Joseph’s old uniform for the Port Jefferson Historical Society, noting that even the shameful parts of history should be documented and preserved. Especially the shameful parts. He even spoke of working with a similar group in Yaphank to organize some sort of exhibit. That really made Morgan happy, because more than anything, she wanted people to know that Nazis weren’t just some faraway problem. They were something that happened right there in America.
And then there was the ghost, Joseph Klaus. Morgan never again heard the crying or dripping. There were no more problems with the plumbing. Once, Joel had asked her if she thought that meant Joseph was gone for good. She wasn’t so sure. Maybe he’d become like Zsa Zsa, who had once been an angry spirit, but thanks to Zophia Zye had become a heroic frost spirit who was always happy to help her out. Maybe Joseph would be a happy ghost now, watching out for her. Or maybe he went to be with his family, wherever they were.
Either way, Morgan didn’t feel out of place on Long Island anymore. When the first episode of the My Secret Dream of a Boring Life anime came out, she decided to throw a party to watch it. She even invited Madison. She honestly hadn’t really expected a response at all. Or at best, that maybe Madison would watch online along with them. So she was surprised when her mom actually brought her all the way out to Port Jefferson for it.
Morgan’s dad made four different flavors of popcorn: butter, cheese, caramel, and chili lime, all with natural ingredients and no microwave. He might be a terrible cook in general, but he was a popcorn genius. Then the adults disappeared to leave Morgan, Madison, Joel, Tressa, Piper, and even Hannah to cluster around the couch and watch the first episode of the Night Queen anime.
Morgan’s eyes sparkled while she watched Zophia Zye in her human form, eyes blazing as she glared at the well-meaning but clueless Kosuke.
“We shall see how well this human understands the circumstances once I turn this entire meadow to ash!”
Hannah let out a bark of laughter. “I like this girl already!”
It became a weekly thing for the Long Islanders, and even though Madison couldn’t come every weekend, she watched online with them for the entire season. Morgan knew that she and Madison would never have the friendship they once did, but that was okay. People grew and changed, and that was okay too.
In fact, when summer came around the following year, Morgan actually got pretty good at wakeboarding.
Most of the characters in this book are fictional, including Joseph Klaus. Tragically, however, Tillie Koch was real, and really died because the youth director at Camp Siegfried, Theodore Dinkelacker, refused to allow a doctor to treat her.
Tillie’s friend, Helen Vooros, was also real. She survived both Camp Siegfried and Camp Nordland, and was then sent to Germany to train with the Hitler Youth. She made it through all of that, and when she was finally able to return to America and escape the German American Bund, she gave testimony before the Special Committee on Un-American Activities in Congress that helped bring the leaders of the organization to justice. In fact, a lot of the research about Camp Siegfried that was included in this novel came directly from the transcripts of her testimony. So thank you, Helen, for your courage and honesty.
I should also thank the Port Jefferson Visitors Center and the real Port Jefferson Historical Society, both of which were friendly and helpful during my research trip. Also, my apologies for taking so many liberties with your fair city in the service of narrative.
While I relied mostly on primary sources like Helen’s testimony before Congress, I also found Hitler’s American Friends by Bradley W. Hart and Swastika Nation by Arnie Bernstein helpful for context. The New York City Department of Records and Information Services was also very helpful in providing some truly chilling images of American Nazis on Long Island.
Thanks also to the Long Island contingent of my family: Laura Kelley, Peter Dodge, Alexander Berger, Tia Henry, Elizabeth Berger, Danny Stern, and of course my favorite cousin and fellow writer, Maya Edwards.
Lastly thanks to my editor, Zachary Clark; my agent, Jill Grinberg; the whole team at JGLM; and my sons, Logan and Zane, for their continued and unrelenting support.
Once Zsa Zsa and I teleported to the human forest, I knew I’d made the right choice. We walked beneath the trees with pleasantly warm sunlight filtering through the branches and a bed of pine needles underfoot. A gentle breeze caressed my soft human cheeks, bringing with it the scent of flowers and lush greenery that lifted my spirits even further. This was the counterbalance to having such a delicate body, I supposed. Its sensual delights were far more pronounced.
I walked lightly amongst the trees, excitement reverberating through my chest. It felt as though all my cares and worries had been left behind at the palace. And in a way, they had. My generals could surely handle things for a few weeks. I might have grown so accustomed to the burden of leadership that I had forgotten its weight. But by the goddess was it nice to have that load lifted for a little while. The feeling was almost intoxicating.
Zsa Zsa was curled up on my shoulder in his new kitten shape, making an odd little rumbling sound. He looked rather like a ball of fluff. When I reached my fleshy human hand up to touch him, I found him quite pleasant to stroke.
“Do we have any idea where we’re going, my queen?” he asked sleepily.
“I doubt it matters,” I said. “Humans are so plentiful, we’re certain to come across one of their settlements eventually.”
“And then what will you do?”
“I’m not quite sure,” I admitted. “Insert ourselves into their community somehow so we can learn more about my new subjects. It can’t be that complicated. They are just humans, after all.”
We continued through the forest until we reached a large, flowery meadow. The cacophony of scents was quite wonderful.
“Why don’t we have flowers at the palace, Zsa Zsa?”
“I believe they require sunlight, oh Queen of Night.”
“Hm, I suppose that’s true. Surely we could enchant some room or other to have sunlight.”
“I have no doubt you could, though it may be more complicated to explain to your generals why you would.”
“I don’t need to explain anything to my generals, Zsa Zsa.”
“Of course not, my queen.”
Then I heard a low growl nearby, followed by another, and then another. Soon the sound was all around us. A pack of wolflings rose from their hiding places behind trees and out of the tall grassy meadow. Wolflings looked like werewolves, but had the size and brains of regular wolves. They generally ran in packs of ten to twenty, and through sheer numbers could overwhelm prey much larger than themselves.
I watched with bemusement as they began to slowly encircle us.
“What on earth are they doing?” I asked.
“I believe they intend to attack you, my queen.”
“Really?”
“It appears that way.”
“I suppose that means my disguise is effective.”
“Indisputably.”
I watched their gleaming eyes and slavering jaws with amusement. “Still, I think even their tiny little teeth would harm this delicate form.”
“I suspect they would, Your Majesty.”
“I can’t very well have it mangled before I’ve even met any humans.”
“It would not be an ideal introduction,” he agreed.
“So I suppose I’ll need to do something about these impertinent pups.”
“Please do, Your Majesty. They offend my delicate kitten nose.”
“This new form of yours is growing on me,” I admitted. “In fact, that nose is rather precious.”
He squinted at me with pleasure. “Isn’t it, though?”
I sighed and squared my shoulders. “Very well, let’s handle these poor little brutes.”
While I didn’t expect it would take much to drive them off, I was feeling so cheerful and energetic that I decided to cast the Malevolent Fury of Night’s Visage on them. It was overkill, but surely I deserved to have a little fun.
Then, just as I was about to begin the short incantation that would shred the scruffy wretches to strips of fur, an arrow flew past me and embedded in the eye of one of the wolflings.
I turned in the direction the arrow had come from and saw a small group of humans sprinting across the meadow toward us.
“Don’t worry, miss!” a burly brown-haired male called to me. “We’ll save you!”
I gaped at them.
“Did they just … ?”
“I believe they did, my queen.”
I watched the humans draw closer. Two males, one female, and one that seemed perhaps both. Or neither. I didn’t really know how many genders humans had. The burly male who had spoken so presumptuously was wielding a large war hammer. Well, large for a human, I supposed. The female, who had curly red hair, held the bow that had so rudely interrupted my incantation. The other-gendered one had black hair slicked back, and they wielded a pair of curved daggers that I thought looked quite nice, but of little combat value.
The last member of the party, male, veered over to me while the others headed straight for the wolflings. He was slim, with shaggy black hair, refined features, and an earnest expression.
“Hey, miss! Can you use a sword?” he called.
I wasn’t sure what he was getting at. “Yes, I have had some instruction in swordsmanship …”
“Great! Feel free to help out!”
Then he tossed a small sword at my feet.
I looked down at the blade. It was easily the most pathetic weapon I’d ever seen. The craftsmanship was subpar, and it had not been well maintained. The binding was frayed, and the flimsy steel was edged with rust.
Then I looked back at the human, who was smiling innocently at me.
“He’s serious,” I muttered to Zsa Zsa. “He actually thinks he’s helping me.”
“So it would seem, my queen.”
“And now he’s waiting for … gratitude?”
“That would be traditional under the circumstances as he understands them, Your Majesty.”
“We shall see how well he understands the circumstances once I turn this entire meadow to ash!”
I decided I would show this foolish human just how much of an insult his pathetic sword was. I began to cast the tenth-tier spell Incandescent Blaze of Lava’s Birth. My hands rose to form the intricate movements, and my mouth opened to speak the prayer to Kagutsuchi the fire god.
“I hate to interrupt when you’re in such a beautifully righteous rage, my queen,” Zsa Zsa said mildly. “But I suspect that once you cast a spell in the lost language of the gods, this human and his companions will no longer believe you to be one of them, and everything we have done to get to this point will have been for naught.”
“But I can’t just let him think he’s saving me,” I protested. “As though I’m some helpless child.”
“In that case,” said Zsa Zsa, “perhaps you should use the sword he has provided after all.”
I looked down at the sad little blade again and sighed. “I suppose I will.”
When I picked it up, I could immediately feel its meager and unbalanced heft. Then I glanced over at the human.
He nodded enthusiastically. “That’s the spirit!”
He drew his own sword and hurried to join his companions.
I watched the humans battle the wolflings for a moment. They were reasonably skilled and worked well as a team. They called to one another, cheering their comrades on and protecting their blind spots. Their diverse specializations complemented one another’s weaknesses. It was clear that there was a strong companionship amongst them. It was the sort of bond I’d always found appealing but had never been able to achieve, not even with my generals.
“It does look fun,” I admitted.
Zsa Zsa hopped off my shoulder and bowed his fluffy little head. “You never know until you try, Your Majesty.”
“Indeed.”
I looked down at my sword speculatively and pursed my lips. “Surely a small enchantment wouldn’t give us away.”
“I think it unlikely, my queen.”
I pressed two fingers to the hilt. As I slid my fingers up the flat side of the dull, nicked blade, I whispered in the lost language of the gods, “Mother Night, I beg you, imbue this humble steel with your cutting darkness.”
For a moment the blade flickered with a dark purple glow. After that, it was all but impossible to discern such a minor enchantment.
“That’s a bit better.” I hefted the sword. “Let’s see what I remember from Abyssal Academy.”
“I look forward to it, Your Majesty.”
By then the humans seemed to be having some trouble with the wolflings. There were quite a lot of the little brutes, and even weaklings could overwhelm if their numbers were great enough. The burly brown-haired male human had received a substantial bite wound on his shoulder, impairing the force of his war hammer. The redheaded female had been forced into close-quarters combat with a small pack of them, putting her archery at a disadvantage. The other-gendered one darted amongst them, easily avoiding injury. But their daggers, though attractive, did little more than slow the enemy down. The male with the sword was fighting with astonishing recklessness. He appeared to be trying to carve his way over to the wounded brown-haired male, who was now beset by a large number of wolflings.
“Hang on, Riku! I’m coming!” he shouted.
It was clear he would not reach the burly male named Riku in time.
While this Riku had insulted me, it had clearly been unintentional, so I reluctantly decided to forgive him. I suspected I would have to do a lot of that in the days to come.
“Riku!” I shouted. “To your left!”
He barely managed to fend off the wolfling who lunged at his flank, but it allowed me enough time to reach him before he received further injury. My human feet were pleasantly nimble as they raced through the tall grass, and though my legs were not strong, my frame was exceptionally light, so I could easily leap over the cluster of wolflings that separated me from Riku.
He gave me a surprised look as I landed beside him. But there was little time for discussion—the wolflings closed in. Instead we stood back-to-back and fended off the onslaught. My light blade flickered through the air, severing the head of one wolfling, then piercing the brain of another.
“Miss!”
Riku slammed his hammer into the chest of one, sending it hurling toward me, dazed and helpless. I smoothly sliced it in half, its innards spraying into the air in a most satisfying way. He continued to serve them up to me like that. It almost became a game between us.
