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Prologue

Dressed in black cowls, the figures moved quietly in the darkness. Their mission wasn't something that needed to be witnessed, and they took great care to creep silently toward the water. Only the moon and the stars looked on...

Meanwhile the town of Blackthorn dozed peacefully as the group skulked toward Lake October.

The right hands of the dark figures were marked with a brand resembling Poseidon's triton, and their eyes were alive with mystic fire. More than anything, they longed to hear the song of their god again, and it showed in the way their limbs trembled and their lips quivered in anticipation.

The song is what would make them whole.

The children of Ligeia had been around in one form or another for over fifty years, and time had done little to dissuade them from their purpose. Many times had they tried the resurrection ritual and failed. They hoped to change that soon. The Lady of Lake October had been sleeping for far too long, and with any luck, she would rouse from her slumber and return to her former glory. To consider any other alternative would be to accept their fate as halflings, bridging the evolutionary gap between man and the things that lived in the sea.

With gifts in hand, they stood on the shores of the lake and mumbled incomprehensible prayers. Then, gently, they placed their offerings in the water and watched as the currents carried them away. The items themselves were simple enough: a pound of tobacco, a few strands of infant hair, a handful of pearls, peacock feathers, a bushel of apples, and a bottle of homemade dandelion wine. Yet the gifts were signs of obedience, of servitude. That is what their god responded to most of all.

Something thrashed in the water, disturbed by their presence. The children of Ligeia smiled at each other and waded into the chilly water, silently praying for success. Their human parts recoiled from the cold while other, more savage, parts delighted in the midnight chill.

A length of heavy-gauge logging chain had been tied around the trunk of a balding cyprus tree, trailing out into the depths of Lake October. Several of the dark figures hauled backward on the chain like fishermen trolling for souls in one of Hell's dismal rivers.

No doubt they were eager to see if the bait had worked. It was immediately clear that it had. All that remained of the man attached to the chain were his legs and the bottom half of his mangled torso. The rest was gone. Devoured. No doubt The Lady's acolyte had taken what she wanted of the sacrifice and was considering whether it was payment enough for her services.

Only time would tell...

In the moonlight, the water was the color of sunburned flesh. A duck swam lazily through the gore without the first sign of hesitation. It and the other creatures that lived in the lake were used to strange things and had learned to ignore them. The duck barely even gave the strange figures a passing glance as it floated toward deeper waters.

Satisfied that their plan would work this time, Ligeia's children turned away from Lake October and surveyed the house behind them. A light was on in one of the upper rooms. A shadow passed in front of the window. Then another, followed by the sickly sweet sound of children's laughter. No doubt the new owners were unpacking and trying to get settled in.

This place, along with the people who inhabited it, was just as important to the raising of their deity as the blood, the offerings, and the grief. The sea-children craned their necks toward the house, listening to the care and affection that infused the conversations within those walls. From the sound of things, there was more than enough love in the house to make the eventual tragedies all the sweeter.

It wouldn't be long now before they could harvest the heartache...

With defined purpose the group seized the gruesome remains of their offering and tossed it back into the water, hoping to lure a magnificent catch. It scarcely even looked like a man anymore. More like a hunk of bloody meat that might be used to fish for sharks.

It only took a few seconds for the chain to tighten as something in the depths of Lake October found its meal. The tree the chain was tied to had been there far too long to be uprooted by the insistent tugging, but the chain itself wasn't that strong. It snapped neatly in half.

The children of Ligeia mumbled their satisfaction as the lake began to bubble like water in a witch's pot.

The Lady of the Lake was waking up.

Nothing moved or made a sound in that next second. It was like listening to the end of the world - a sudden silence followed by pandemonium.

The faint, gentle song that hovered above the water like a fine, morning mist was both haunting and angelic. The sea-children quickly cast off their cowls and leapt into the lake, swimming toward the source. Some propelled themselves by kicking their legs. Others used their fins to guide them along. Scales and chitinous faces gleamed in the hazy moonlight.

For the first time in a long time, Ligeia's children were hopeful. They had every reason to be. The singing had started again.

Chapter 1

Lake October....

It's a name that summons images of dead autumn leaves and umber sunsets. It brings to mind fishing, eating lunch from a picnic basket, sunbathing on a rubber inner tube, and tilting your sunglasses to block the glare off the water. It recalls summers spent with family, sunburns, camping trips, marshmallows roasted over a fire, and nights spent in a tent filled with mosquitoes and crickets.

It conjures up those bittersweet moments of adolescence with a sorcery that only Mother Nature is capable - like that first time you ever tried smoking a cigarette or your first awkward kiss under the moonlight with the girl you were supposed to marry but never did. Lake October reminds you of all the good things about growing up and makes you want to be young again.

Or at least that's what Lake October does now. All of the death and despair surrounding that place has nearly been forgotten since most of the town died in the cleansing process. Only six months ago, the mention of the lake conjured up very different sorts of magic and darker, more potent spells.

Thankfully, those days have passed. Families have started moving back into the area and putting down roots. Six months ago roots were the very things that got a lot of people killed.

Now that Mother Nature has cleaned up the mess, Lake October could easily be one of those places featured on postcards or in wilderness paintings. It's a place of release, a place of serenity.

Of course, Lake October evokes a different sort of reaction in me. It makes me tremble in the night and reach out to touch Heather for comfort even though I know that I'll never feel completely safe anymore. It causes me to weep and to remember how things were before we ever moved into that house at the edge of the water.

I can't listen to music of any kind anymore. The idea of a soothing melody seems paradoxical, and I've thrown away every radio in the house. I'm on the verge of tossing out the television too. Heather is worried about me. I'm worried about her. But I keep telling myself that the worst is behind us.

It's difficult to believe that, however, when I look at Nicky and Adrian and see the irreversible changes. The scales. The iridescent glimmer in their eyes. My sons are different now, and the lake is to blame.

I'm just thankful they're still alive. Most weren't so lucky.

In my mind, Lake October doesn't invoke images of sunny afternoons spent picnicking and swimming and playing with my kids the way it does with other fathers. Instead, it makes me want to turn back time, only to realize that I can't.

Regret is my master now, flogging me daily for my mistakes. If it were possible, I would do anything to change what happened in those few deadly weeks that nearly destroyed me and my family. Yet time moves on, pulling me along like a criminal being dragged through the streets by runaway horses.

My only solace is in the knowledge that no one else will go through the things that we went through. I made sure of that. Anyone else who moves into that house will make the kinds of memories at Lake October that my family should have made.

It's small consolation. At this point, I'll take what I can get.

***

We got the Beckett house for a steal. The realtor told us that the owners were having some financial problems and were unable to afford the mortgage. It seemed like a legitimate reason for selling, and I had no reason to suspect that we were being lied to. I've had more than a few opportunities to think about that since and realize that I was too naive to know any better. At the time, it seemed like fortune was smiling on us, and we weren't about to question why.

In retros...