“Everyone’s crops,” Amos added. “Yes.”
“And the weather,” Ephraim continued. “Hail and thunder in winter, an unbearably hot spring. Drought and desiccation just as everything should be bursting forth, fresh and new.”
Leland frowned. “Surely that’s not because of—”
“Even among yourselves—have there been more arguments? More acts of violence? Or vandalism? All signs of the Dark Watchers. They…their presence is so insidious, so black, it tarnishes everything around them. Nothing is left unaffected…and then…and then the tricks begin.”
Thomas drew his fingers along the mantel. “Once they’ve ingratiated themselves into a community, Dark Watchers determine people’s dearest desires and offer to fulfill them. They’ll propose a trade—it starts out small, a simple prank, a rumor spread. But over time the favors grow larger, more dangerous. And then the creatures watch as the community eats itself alive.”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, and my stomach roiled with queasiness.
“Cyrus,” I finally dared to whisper. “He said that woman—the woman at the tavern had urged him to set the fire.”
“There was no woman. There’s never been any woman like that here,” the parson disagreed, shaking his head.
“There has. There is. I’ve seen her myself.”
“He said she had silvery eyes,” Leland murmured, as if recalling something from a long-ago dream. He turned to Ephraim. “I didn’t understand what he meant, but you say they have silver—”
“None of us understood anything he meant,” Briard snapped. “He was a madman. None of this—none of any of this is real. I’ll admit, Amity Falls has had far more than its share of troubles in the last year, but not because of fantastical creatures in the woods.” He shook his head, gaining fervor. “I do believe a darkness has fallen across our community, but it’s festered in the hearts of men, not monsters.”
“But what if these things have come to the Falls?” Matthias stroked his beard. “They are the root of this darkness. They’ve brought the misfortune upon us.”
“I don’t believe that for a second, Matthias Dodson, and neither should any God-fearing servant of the Lord.”
Amos’s clouded eyes fell to the Founder Tree adorning his walking stick. “I think I would rather believe in the Dark Watchers’ thrall than imagine that anyone in Amity Falls would willingly seek to harm their fellow friends and neighbors, wouldn’t you, Clemency?”
Parson Briard crossed his arms over his chest. “Only the Lord knows what wickedness is kept in the hearts of men.”
I leaned forward, aware that none of these men would welcome the input of a teenage girl, but it needed to be said all the same. “I can assure you, the Dark Watchers—those creatures—are real. They chased me in the woods. I heard them. I saw them.”
“A guilty conscience is capable of seeing most anything.” Briard turned a gimlet eye toward me. “What sins of yours need confessing, Ellerie Downing?”
My mouth fell open. “What? I’ve done nothing….I’m not the only one who’s seen them either. Whitaker has—”
The parson’s eyebrow raised. “Ah. Yes. The trapper in the woods. And you and he were alone in these same woods today, were you not?”
My face colored as his implication struck.
“Leave Ellerie be,” Amos said, interceding.
“Sins are meant to be confessed.” Briard stared at me for a long moment before mercifully looking away. “Perhaps that’s what Amity needs now more than anything else.” He nodded as his idea formed. “Yes, yes, of course.”
“What are you talking about?” Matthias asked.
“A revival…We unite as a community, confess and repent our sins, ask for the forgiveness of both the Lord and our fellow men. That is what will save the Falls—not any pagan nonsense from those two.” He waved a dismissive hand at the Fairhopes. “Tomorrow morning. You three must get the word out—everyone in town will need to be there—and I must spend tonight in prayer.”
Matthias narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think this—”
“It’s not your place to think, Elder,” Briard snapped. “You and yours had your chance to save us. You tried your worldly ways. This town doesn’t need Decidings or Judgments. What it needs is a Reckoning. And as the spiritual authority, that is mine and mine alone.”
“And God’s,” Matthias said, his jaw hardened. “Presumably.”
The parson didn’t answer. His eyes closed as he mouthed a silent intercession. “Yes. A revival. Tomorrow. Every trace of evil shall be stamped from God’s Grasp.” He opened his eyes and stared hard at Ephraim. “Starting with you.”
The next morning dawned hot, and by the time we made our way into Amity Falls, the air blanketed us with a wet, heavy stillness. Drawing breath felt impossible, and it took us nearly twice as long to make the three-mile walk.
“I wish I had stayed with Sadie,” Merry muttered, fanning herself with pained listlessness. Attempting to stir this humidity was like trying to pull a fishing net through mud. “We shouldn’t have left her all alone.”
“She’s not alone. Whitaker is with her.”
“One of us ought to have stayed behind. At least.”
I agreed, but it was the only solution I’d been able to think of. “The parson said he wanted every member of the town present.”
“And he specifically said he wanted us there as well,” Ephraim gasped. Even hidden under the shade of his wide-brimmed hat, he was red. He took a sip from his canteen, then offered it to the rest of us.
I patted a handkerchief over my neck, a useless gesture. The lace of my collar was already sodden with sweat.
All around us was a sea of yellow. Dead grass. Dead fields. Dying pines. Without the spring rains, everything in God’s Grasp looked on the verge of igniting.
We turned the corner and spotted the church.
A large canvas tent had been erected on the lawn. Its flaps were pulled open, and I could see rows of wooden chairs, mismatched but laid out with a fanatical order that suggested Letitia Briard had been up since dawn arranging them.
Merry eyed the enclosure dubiously. “We have to sit in that?”
“Apparently,” I said. “Look, the sides are open. I’m sure there will be a breeze.”
I tried sounding hopeful, but so many people milled about the lawn, vying for spots of shade, that I didn’t truly believe my words. Merry didn’t either. I had to all but shove her into motion.