Chapter 72 [Dubois Farm]
Aromas wafted through the farmhouse. Cornbread cooked in the Dutch oven. Ham and beans bubbled in the old cast iron pot. That hung on the old hook over the fire in the fireplace. Chocolate and cherry sweetened the kitchen air.
Miranda followed her cousin's directions. She carefully swung the hook out so as not to burn her hands. Then she stirred the thickening mix with the beech wooden spoon. She could see the beans' skin starting to split. Finally she covered the pot again and pushed the pot back over the fire. "And what's the difference between a crock pot and this?"
Angie giggled. She diced bell peppers and cucumbers. "Both slow cook, Miri. It's the ambiance. That room you're in is the oldest part of the house."
"Really? You mean like that great aunt and uncle?" Miranda brought the spoon over to the sink. She rinsed it off. "There. Ready for the next stir. This is what they did?"
"They did. Jenny's really studied up on them. I know some things from the local folklore but she's the expert." Angie pushed the vegetables into the waiting lettuce in a bowl. "I need your uncle to season this. Mind getting him?"
"Sure." Miranda glanced toward the cellar door. She could feel Mood's tempest brewing from downstairs. Now what happened? He was okay this morning.
A knock came from the door.
"I'll get that first, Auntie!" Miranda glanced at the kitchen. That's where the front door is. According to them, nobody uses this door. She unlocked it and opened it to find Ichabod and Katrina with Jennifer and Mills. "Jenny? What happened?" Her jaw dropped. Brimstone clogged her nostrils. "What did you all run into?"
"A high priestess, Mistress….?" Ichabod handed Jennifer to Miranda. "Is there a place where Miss Jennifer might sit for a minute?"
"Sure. I'm Miranda, my aunt and uncle own this place. And you are?" Miranda helped her cousin over to the couch.
"We were invited by your uncle for dinner." He straightened himself. "I am Ichabod Crane. These ladies are my wife, Katrina, and my partner, Lieutenant Abbie Mills of the Sleepy Hollow Police Department. I fear we have a bit of trouble. Is your uncle in his lab?"
"Uh…yeah. I can show you." Miranda raised an eyebrow at his attitude. What did I do to you? She shook her head.
"Is it in the same place as your ancestor's? If so, I can show myself to it. Thank you for your assistance, Miss Miranda." He bowed to her. Then he opened the cellar door.
"Just be careful on the stairs. It's a low ceiling," Miranda advised. She helped her suffering cousin lie down. "AUNTIE!"
Angie rushed out of the kitchen. "Miri, what is it? I…GOODNESS ME!" She ran into the front room. "Jenny, what happened? Are you all right?"
Jennifer nodded. "I've…been better. Really got tagged good with dark fire in the cemetery."
Angie grimaced. "Bad enough the ghosts are back in Smallville. They're here too. After the past ten years, I'd hoped they'd just fall off the face of the Earth. I wish my sister-in-law could pop up. We could use some of her treatments right now."
"I can do that as well. I am Katrina van Tassel Crane. I am also a member of the Sisterhood of the Radiant Heart. I knew the Althanorian high priestesses Cybelle and Deirdre in my own day. I can prepare treatments with your assistance," Katrina offered.
"Thank you." Angie saw Ichabod going down the stairs. "Can I help you?"
"Yes." Ichabod stopped for a heartbeat. In his mind's eye, he could see Angie in her former (or was that future?) colonial dress. "I was going to speak with David in his laboratory. Is in the same place as his ancestor's?"
"It is. Pardon me. Dave's usually really on edge about down there. Maybe you might help him? We can talk more later." Angie rushed toward the kitchen.
"Indeed so! Thank you! Leftenant, perhaps you might follow me? Just watch your head. There is a particularly low beam halfway down as I recall." Ichabod started down the stairs.
Mills looked about the old staircase. "You might have let them know before rushing for the stairs, Crane. I mean it's like walking into the Wayne Manor and heading straight for the Batcave."
He stopped. "I do not follow. Wait! Is this the Batman I heard about the other day? Some pulp hero dressed as a bat? Really?" He rolled his eyes. "Dubois was the real hero of his era. You know that this house was a station on the Underground Railroad?"
"For real? Damn!" Mills took a second look around. As they reached the bottom, she saw the old brick walls. The passage ran into the shadows and out of sight to the right and left.
"There's another way out down there." He pointed to the right. "We shall head this way." He turned left. "There's some more low beams. Be wary!"
Mills glanced about at the wooden framed and brick passage all around them. She could imagine refuges from slavery hiding there. Then they would head down the shadow passage and into the woods. And here I thought Dubois was just going to be just another cursed headcase! Nice!
Ichabod called ahead, "Professor Dubois? Pardon our intrusion. Might we speak?" He stopped just short of the lab area. "I am Ichabod Crane."
A glass tink set down on a hard surface. A chair made a sliding noise on the floor. "You remember the rest of the way? Please!"
"Thank you." Ichabod motioned to her. "Follow me."
"I got that." Mills narrowed her eyes. She followed him into another brick chamber. A slightly rusted iron apparatus sat on a chipped wooden table. Several glass beakers sat in a row along the table's right edge. A Bunsen burner sat ready for use by the apparatus. On another table, drying leaves punctuated the air with a strong odor. What struck her though was Dubois himself setting an old pestle down next to a wooden bowl full of mush.
"This place has certainly remained much the same." Admiration lifted Ichabod's spirits. "Thank you for your understanding."
"Angie and I invited you. Is it Master Crane or Captain Crane?" Dubois put his hand out.
"I would say Captain but Ichabod will suit me well. Your ancestor went by Dave. Is that the same with you?" Ichabod shook his hand.
"Dave's great. And this lady?" Dubois walked over to Mills. "David Dubois. And you are?"
"Lieutenant Abbie Mills. Glad that your wife and you aren't really dead. This is some house you have here." She glanced around again.
"It's stood up to the centuries. I'm sure there are people upset with the whole thing. It was necessary, Lieutenant." Dubois finished mashing up the wooden bowl's contents. "Sorry. I was just finishing this up. I have to make a few party favors before my trip back."
"Party favors?"
Ichabod nodded. "Ah yes. Your ancestor's herbal bombs." He peered into a shoe box filled with empty cherry bomb casings and small wicks.
"Seriously. We just had a run in at the cemetery and you're making cherry bombs?" She scratched her head.
"Run in?" Dubois raised an eyebrow. "I know His Darkness has been twitchy." He rubbed his head. "Whatever happened, he is really pissed off."
"Miss Jennifer was struck by that hellfire." Ichabod cleared his throat. "The perpetrator was Mistress Grace."
Dubois curled his lip. Numbness clenched his entire scalp. Spasms twitched his arms and legs. A deep snarl escaped through his teeth.
"What the Hell? Crane?" She stiffened.
"No. Leave him be." Ichabod stood his ground. "Dave, you are among friends. The Other's phantom was in the graveyard with us. It drove Mistress Grace away."
Dubois nodded. "This is more serious than I thought." He shook his head. "Of all the threats, Aunt Grace is the one who makes the Big Kid go off more than anything!"
"There are reasons we will discuss later. Suffice to say that I am most relieved to see you working on your weapons before returning to where you are currently. Is that New Spain or New France?" Ichabod peered at the map. "There is the new state of Kansas. Ah! Now I see! Your ancestor spoke of his time on the Great Plains and in New Spain."
"Interesting. There's always something about Captain Dubois to find out." Dubois scooped the mix into a half dozen of the casings. Then he set the wicks on top. "The mix dries so hard that it seals itself even if it gets wet." He set the finished 'favors' on the table to dry. "So what else happened?"
"We were at your ancestors' grave. That Grace lady showed up. Crane and Katrina get into it with her. Jennifer steps in and gets blasted with hellfire. Your dark whatsis was somewhere. Grace threatened to bring our headless buddy into it. Then she warned us not to interfere out in Kansas. She went poof after that," Mills recounted.
"Aunt Grace was…involved with the Headless Horseman?" Dubois grimaced. "Bad enough she was the fire demon's high priestess but…."
"She reassured Abraham. I only saw them together in Rowenshire. I do not know beyond that." Ichabod sighed. "Is there a way to contact your Aunt Cybelle or one of her order?"
"I wish. I can't do the mist trick like her or him, Ichabod." He wiped down the bowl with a paper towel. "I'll finish this up later when those leaves have dried. Meantime let's check on Jennifer and then I need to make a phone call. By the way, did you know Sister Clarise?"
"She went with us to Rowenshire on that night. A woman of considerable contrasts and ability. Is she out there in that Kansas place?" Icbabod presumed.
"She is. In fact, she's staying with Miranda, Angie and me at the Luthor Mansion. Dubois checked the burner and equipment. Let's head upstairs." Dubois shut the lights and led them back toward the main area of the house.
Layers and layers it seemed….
