Izoven: Song of Fire ✓

Chapter 2

"Excuse me," someone interrupted. "Did I hear you's going to Bellenau?" They looked toward the bar and saw an old man, wearing some hunting gear, turning their way. "I wouldn't even go near that cursed town if I were you."

Seth immediately shrunk back in his seat. After a big, nervous gulp, he asked, "Why's that?"

The old man cringed, his crinkly eyes turning into two sloped lines. "Haven't you heard the rumors about that place?"

Emery swallowed her food; her eyes beamed with curiosity. "No, what rumors?"

"They say it's haunted." The man grabbed his cup of coffee and approached them. Beads of the hot drink were just about to drip off his staticky beard. Emery resisted the urge to hand him a napkin. Keeping his head low and voice just above a whisper, the man told them, "Crazy stuff happens too often. Why years ago, there was a fire in the town library. Killed all of ten people, it did."

Seth flashed a knowing look to Emery. They knew exactly what fire the old man spoke about. How could she not? Mysterious fires happened all the time in the Bellenau mountains. A fire killed Grandpa Joey, and that library fire the man spoke about? It took Mama Emma's life. 

Seth made a move to keep the man from talking, but Emery stopped him, by laying a hand over his arm. She wanted to hear what he had to say.

"When the library was good and closed, flames burst out in the middle of the night," the man continued. "Many of the victims didn't even work there. No one knows what they were doing there or what caused it. There were no survivors and no witnesses. The townspeople tried to save someone . . . anyone, but they were too late. Fire swelled up in a manner of minutes. It always does in that town. I'm telling ya."

It appeared he'd finished his story, but by his puckered lips and pensive gaze, Emery thought he had more to say. "You have a theory?" she guessed.

He slammed the cup against the wooden table, nearly spilling it over their food as he told them, "I call witchcraft. All that fire was a cult sacrifice gone wrong."

Emery listened with a straight face. She reached a hand to the stack of napkins and handed him three. He realized he'd spilled some of the coffee and wiped it clean. 

"I don't think it's fair to the victims to make them part of your ghost stories."

"You're a non-believer, are ya?" he asked, stuffing the dirty napkin into the pocket of his vest. 

She shrugged. "I like things to make sense. Your story? It's got some holes."

The waitress returned, slipping in between them to leave the bill on the table. Her eyes moved to the old man in a pointed glare. "Scaring my customers again, Jenkins? I'm sorry. I keep telling him not to do that."

Unease settled in the pit of her stomach. The idea of her grandparents' death becoming campfire stories felt wrong. Her teeth ground against each other as she tried to find some sense in his tale. 

Despite the fact that her unfinished burger looked entirely delectable, Emery had lost her appetite. She excused herself quickly and made her way outside. A scowl sneaked into her features as she leaned against their old scrap of a car. With her eyes trained on the mountain woods, she kicked against the parking lot pebbles and let out an angry huff.

It seemed her family was doomed to mysterious circumstances. The library fire now piqued her interest, and she felt like she had to investigate that too. She felt like she was one step farther from the badge. 

That old man's crazy. Ridiculous!

Her grandmother was not some sort of cult witch! Fires just happened sometimes, but then again, what were ten people doing in the Bellenau Library so late? In a town with so little to do, she doubted they were up late having a tea party. It was strange, she'd admit that, but she was still far from believing this had anything to do with—