Bohemians of Sesqua Valley by W. H. Pugmire

the valley’s new poet, to sing her glory as it has not been expressed for decades.”
    “And why can’t Manly do this himself, if he still dwells here?”
    “I think he is conjoined to the second shadowland and can rarely leave it, or rarely wants to.” He noticed the expression on her face and laughed heartily. “God, you don’t understand any of this. How could you? You’re far away from Providence, dear Sarah. Look, I don’t have time to explain it all now. I need to get this eikon to the Circle of Seven Suns. We’ll talk later.”
    “Let me help you. I want to see this mysterious place that has so upset Simon.”
    “But—I don’t know what’s going to happen when I evoke the Crawling Chaos.”
    “Then it will be a learning experience for both of us. Do you think that thing will fit into your car?”
    “Only just. I managed when I brought it home from the antique shop. It’s lovely, isn’t it? So smooth and black and—potent.” He wrapped his arms around the statue and began again to try and lift it. Shaking her head, Sarah went to assist him, and together they moved the effigy out of the house and into Akiva’s motor car. Before getting into the vehicle, the poet glanced at the moonlit mountain and frowned.
    “What’s wrong?”
    Akiva squinted his eyes with suspicion. “It’s too quiet, like the valley is holding its breath. Usually, when something really dangerous or cool is going on, the valley sends out a signal from beneath its ground, a deadly kind of pounding that alerts the children.”
    “The children?”
    “The ones who have silver eyes, the local tribe, whatever they are. They often refer to themselves as the children of the valley, without ever explaining what that means. I’ve sensed a lot of things in the months that I’ve lived here, but nothing’s concrete inside my mind. Perhaps after tonight I’ll have more answers. Let’s go.”
    They both entered the car, Sarah having to adjust her head so that it would not bang against the head of the statue, which was protruding over the back of her seat. She remained silent as the car bounced along rough roads, toward the mountain. The road entered a place in the woodland where the trees overhead formed a kind of tunnel through which they journeyed. And then the trees were gone, and the mortals were moving along an expanse of dirt field. The mountain, now very near, hovered over them like some slumbering behemoth. Sarah cracked her window open and cursed. “Ugh, I thought I smelled something vile. What is that stench in the air? It’s sickening.”
    “It emanates from the soil, or so it seemed to on the few occasions that I’ve visited this area. It’s like the ground is cankerous. Look at how yellow the dirt is? The children shun this place. I tried to get my friend Cyrus to join me on an outing here and he freaked out, said something about it being too near the mountain. I think they shun the mountain as well. It’s nice to know that there are places in the valley where you don’t have to worry about meeting its freakish clan. I think we’re almost there.”
    “You think?”
    “Well, I confess that last night’s all a bit of a haze. But I’ll recognize the wooded area when we get there. I’ll remember the signposts that Manly showed me.”
    Sarah could not take her eyes from the bulk of Mount Selta, and something in the shape of the mountain increased her sense of unease. “This place is creepy,” she mumbled; but Akiva ignored her, seemingly intent on locating their destination. And then he stopped the car. “This is the place. It’s not a long walk. Are you sure you want to help me haul that statue down there?”
    “I am not yet decrepit,” she scolded, and then bent to pick up the bottom portion of the statue. She felt extremely silly as they entered the woods, and smiled broadly at what a sight they made. Sarah noted that the vile stench in the air had dissipated and was replaced with a new scent, subtle and