"Is there somewhere you can go? I think it's best if you don't stay here," Ingrid said.
"I could go to my sister's, I guess. Ann's in Wainscott; it's not too far. Why? You don't think he would come after me, do you? I'm not even sure it was Lionel, it might have been someone else." She shook her head. "You think this might have had something to do with what your mom did to Lionel?"
"Emily . . ."
Emily balled up her fists. "It's all my fault. I asked for the help." She seemed to have an internal struggle with herself. "I'll go to Ann's." She looked at the sisters plaintively. "You'll try to find him? Maybe help him? Don't hurt him, okay?"
They tried to assure her that all would be well as they bade good-bye. When they were alone in the car, Ingrid exchanged a look with her sister. The heads of all the animals were torn off, their entrails severed. "If something went wrong with his resurrection, it's possible that he's now trapped between life and death," she said. "He's alive, but his body is decomposing and he'll need to . . ."
"Feed, I know. Those animals looked half-eaten." Freya was silent for a moment as she tried to think. "It's been so long since Mother has done something like this, it's possible something went wrong."
Ingrid hit the gas and they peeled away down the farmhouse driveway. They could still see Emily in the living-room window, watching them. "Zombies," Ingrid muttered. "What do we know about them?"
"Other than that they're uncoordinated, they don't know what they're doing, and they're basically walking corpses with a taste for brains?" Freya asked.
"So Lionel Horning went zombie, killed Molly Lancaster, hid her body, and then came back to the farmhouse and slaughtered his animals?" Ingrid suggested. "Seems like a lot for one zombie to do, if you ask me. They can't even walk properly."
"Unless . . ."
"Unless what?"
"Remember the Fontanier case?" Freya asked. "When we were living in France in the twelfth century?"
"Remind me?" Ingrid asked.
"Jean Fontanier was a farmer; he got killed accidentally when his horse spooked and threw him. His widow came to Mother but she refused to bring him back as he'd been dead for more than twenty-four hours. So his widow went to Lambert de Fois."
Ingrid nodded. It was starting to return to her. Lambert de Fois was the head of their coven then. "Right."
"The stupid warlock raised him from the dead, but it didn't take. We all thought Fontanier had gone zombie, but it turned out that wasn't the problem."
Ingrid sighed. She remembered all too well now. By resurrecting the farmer after his body had been cold for a day, Lambert de Fois had broken the Covenant of the Dead, and Helda had not been pleased. "No. That wasn't the problem at all."
"Jean Fontanier wasn't a zombie. Helda made sure he returned to life as something else. A demon."
Chapter thirty-six
Family Secrets
One of life's greatest pleasures was returning home after a long trip, Joanna thought, as she put her carpetbag down in the hallway and hung her hat back on the hook. Gilly flew to her usual perch on the ceiling cove as Joanna turned on the lights. She was surprised to find the living room a mess, pillows on the floor, water bottles and wineglasses on the coffee table. The kitchen was worse, with its usual pile of dirty dishes and used pots on the stove. Joanna had gotten used to having the Alvarezes taking care of everything, and Gracella kept a very neat house. She rang the cottage but there was no answer. It was too late to say hello to Tyler anyway, she decided. She heard a car pull up and her daughters' voices carry up from the driveway. Oh, good, they were home, she had quite a lot to tell them.
"Girls!" she said, throwing open the door.
"Mom!" Freya said, feeling guilty at the sight of her mother, even though nothing that had happened was technically her fault and at least one was certainly Joanna's doing. Still, she did not relish telling her mother that in her absence, Ingrid had helped a vampire who had visited their town and that the nice guy Joanna had raised from the dead was now a zombie or, more likely, possessed by a demon.
"Where have you been?" Ingrid wanted to know.
Joanna ushered them inside and closed the door. "I've been looking for your father," she said, wringing her hands. "I need his help. Listen, girls, there's something you need to know about him - "
"I know where he is," Ingrid interrupted.
"What do you mean, you know where Dad is?" Freya asked, staring at her sister. "And you didn't say anything? How could you?"
"I'm sorry. He wrote me a few months ago. He wanted to get in touch with all of us, but he thought he'd try me first. He thought Mother would be too mad and that Freya would just burn his letters."
Freya crossed her arms and flopped down on the nearest couch. "He was right about that. He left us, Ingrid. He abandoned our family! Don't you get that?"
"I'm sorry, Mother. Freya. I didn't want to tell you . . . I knew you would be angry, but I miss him so much. And he misses us, too. He just wants us to be a family again."
"Yes, about your father," Joanna said, her forehead creasing. "I need to tell you girls something. It's very hard for me to say and I hope you will find it in your hearts to forgive me."
"Why? What are you talking about?" Freya asked.
Joanna looked them both straight in the eye, with her head held high, as if steeling herself for the gallows. "Your father did not leave you. I tossed him out. I told him he had to leave us alone and that if he tried to get in touch with either of you I would make sure he regretted it forever."
For a moment neither of the girls spoke and a heavy silence fell, fraught with centuries of loss and heartache and resentment. Ingrid thought about all they had missed: years of her father's sage advice, his protection, his love. Freya could not even speak. The betrayal was so cruel she felt a compression in the pit of her stomach, as if she were going to vomit. "Why, Mother?" she finally whispered.
"I'm so very sorry, my darlings. I could not stop myself, I was so angry about what happened during the trials. I wanted him to do something about it - break you both out of jail, use his power to sway the judge - but he would not. Because of the laws of mid-world of course. But I wasn't thinking rationally."