On top of Lear Mountain, Swannanoa stood above all. None, besides its denizens, had been allowed to pass its elaborate, iron gates. The center had the family crest rendered in perfect artistic obsession. Two men opened the gate by hand. Marie saw odd glyphs worked into the metal, as they passed, but they moved too quickly. Heavy fog enveloped them just inside the entrance.

Every inch of the land was managed to perfection. Even inside of the high outer walls, more barriers cut up the grounds. Three families lived on the vast track of land. Swannanoa, at the back was the palatial estate of the Van Lear family, main road guarded by walls on both sides. Ground fog washed over the sedan, as Marie leaned back disappointed. All the shadows were still, and the whispers had quieted. Silence had flooded in the sedan, held them. The low, wet smell of roses pried its way into the cab. Air conditioner pushed through the vents to turn the interior into an icy grave. Passed the lips it tasted like the dying gasp of a hated lover.

It seemed, to Marie, that Swannanoa was entombed as much as it was set above all. Solemnity of a mausoleum, there was a cautious air given at a funeral. The precession pressed on with all silent. Cobblestone carried the weight of them; old road set by hand, and required little upkeep. Every piece was placed like a mountain to weather all time. This ageless kingdom dragged on from the past, dead yet present, but as an echo that never fades. This is how a corpse hoisted on his fellows must feel, she was sure. The end would come, gate of the hereafter reached, though another pilgrimage would follow.

They pasted two large gates, across from each other, but neither was nearly as grand as the Van Lear entrance. It was the grandest. She covered her awe, shocked. Ornate beauty poured into the iron work. The wall was the highest in Swannanoa, stonework would hold forever. It parted. A couple of men opened the way, and then sealed the entrance behind them.

The old plantation was legend in Hemlock Hurst. Fantastical tales had turned it into a mythical land, Hell made in the image of Heaven. Endless money could raise one to the status of a king, power of a god. Before her the estate, shrouded in fog, was created by people that understood such power. Stories fell short, rumors lacked the grandeur of the truth, and she knew the Van Lear's old money understood their station. This kingdom held the solemn aesthetic of the gothic, though had the obsessive devotion of detail found in cathedrals. From the rose gardens and colonnades to the fountains and topiaries, all was set to a precise plan. It loomed, waited. The apotheosis of this estate's deathless beauty received them.

Tim had agreed to come with Marie, though he had to sit in front with Barnett. She had sat beside Alice in the back. Although the driver had kept his eyes forward, the shadow cast by the trilby hat hid his gaze. Alice had watched Marie, but answered no questions. They were sent to retrieve the La Voison woman. Diana accepted no excuses, suffered no fools. It was for the matriarch of the Van Lear family to convey her will. All of them wanted to see Bethany's daughter.

Barnett got out, as Tim finally escaped confinement with him. He opened the door for Alice, smile broad under the hat. Tim helped Marie onto the cobblestone drive.

"A crack in the perfection," Marie looked at the split that crept through the drive. Men worked to repair the break.

"Inky," Tim turned, "you okay?"

She shook her head. Alice left them. Barnett gestured for them to follow. Into the mansion, they followed the well-dressed man.

Ashless Hollow was the antithesis of the Van Lear mansion, Lance. Named for its first master, it had required decades to finish. It set atop Lear Mountain long before there was Hemlock Hurst. They'd come from Europe, along with their cousins the Blackburn. They'd planted the poison seed of another kingdom in the new world. Out of the old world was brought the architecture and money.

The interior of the house had never changed. No speck of dust was allowed to settle. Oil paintings of the ancestors of Van Lears through the centuries watched. Dead men and women stared from beyond; their ghosts made ever present. Even turned to dust, it was like sitting up with the dead, but the morning would never come; she thought with a shiver. They were dressed in the raiment of the powerful, posture of relaxed power.

Long dead Van Lear family watched from their posts at the interlopers. Thick walls and doors were sealed. Marie followed, struck by the beauty. Barnett set a relentless pace, so she was unable to study the art. It assailed her with the opulent solemnity, pressed against her. The smell of roses was subtle yet pervasive. A low rot, slow entropy, hid among the unchanged beauty. There was no electricity, so there was no air conditioning, yet a chill nipped skin. Obdurate click of a grandfather clock punctuated the silent steps on the plush, violent red carpet.

The last set of doors opened on their approach. Barnett came to a stop. He turned, smile centered on Tim, "This is the end for you; Diana wanted to speak with the La Voison."

"Is that okay?' he grimaced at his smile.

"Or," Barnett's grin became voracious, and he leaned forward, as if to hear a joke.

"Yes," she said evenly, "I'm very interested in what Miss Van Lear has to say."

"Okay," Tim breathed, though paler than before, "I'll be here, Inky."

They moved into the next room. Barnett closed the heavy oak doors, and Tim rubbed a hand through strawberry-red hair. Nausea passed over Marie, cold gripped her.

Where Diana Van Lear held court, the room was the richest in adornment. All of the previous reigning family heads had a painting upon the wall. The only woman was Diana, but all had the same gaze. Their eyes were hard with touch of madness rose up, dark blue eyes. Those gazes bore into the flesh. Kept in glass before them were items dear to the Van Lear. Morbid curiosity drew Marie to General Lance Van Lear of the Confederate Army. The Calvary saber had seen heavy use; salt of spilled blood ate at the metal.