by K W Taylor
~
Violet smoothed out her skirt, admiring the swaths of starched brown silk edged in crisp lace. “Where’d you get this?” she asked, turning to Ben.
He was looking at her face, not the outfit. The corner of his mouth formed a subtle half-smile.
His eyes are so brown.
She cleared her throat, her embarrassment immediate and distinct, as if she’d said the words aloud.
He can’t tell what I was thinking.
But could she tell what he thought?
That smile was not the smile of someone content that all details of a business deal or an investigation were going well. That was the smile of a man gazing upon the object of his affection.
“Ben? The dress? Where’d it come from?” she tried again.
“Hmm?” He seemed to wake up from a trance or a dream. “Oh, well, you know, research. It’s what I do. I think that one Kris helped me piece together from thrift store finds and then anything that wasn’t perfect we made.”
Violet drew back. “You made parts of this?”
Ben shrugged. “Kris can knit lace. I…” He laughed and hung his head. “I sew.”
“Wow.” Violet’s laughter joined Ben’s. “Learning a lot about you today, Mister Jonson.”
And about myself.
She finished pinning her hair according to the woodcut in Ben’s book on the Roanoke colonists. The woman pictured had a sweet face, not quite round and not quite angular, with sad eyes and a gentle smile.
“Do you think she’ll find me familiar?” Violet asked. She laughed again. “That’s dumb, I know. I…well, did you ever meet someone who looked like they could be your relative, even though they weren’t? I wonder if she’d see me and think something like that, that’s all.”
“I don’t know,” Ben replied. He straightened his cravat and tugged at the neck of his shirt. “God, how did people wear this stuff? I feel like I’m choking.”
“Here, you’ve got the top button done wrong, I think.” Violet crossed the room and peered at Ben’s shirt. “You’ve got the second button in the top buttonhole. No wonder you’re choking. Can you—”
“What, like this?” Ben fumbled at the button beneath his cravat.
“Here, just—” Violet reached out and slid the top of the cravat from its position. Her hand brushed Ben’s, and a spark of electricity shocked them both. “Oh!” Startled, Violet stepped back again. “Sorry, it’s the carpet, I suppose,” she mumbled.
“No, those shoes have no rubber insulation,” Ben said, gesturing at her feet.
She pointed at his neck. “Just, I think you know what to do, right?”
Ben nodded. “You’d better find Eddy and get started. I’ll be along.”
Violet scurried from the wardrobe room to the lab down the hall.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Focus. Besides, what about Cob?
“Hey there,” Cob greeted her as she entered. “You all set?”
He looked even more ill than he did earlier in the day, his skin pale except beneath his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks, where it was bluish and ashy.
“Ben’s still finishing,” Violet said.
Vere emerged from the opposite door. “Benoy isn’t going,” he said. “We have to keep him healthy for a later trip in case there are complications.”
“But I think he believes he’s—”
“No.” Vere was firm. He and Cob exchanged a look. “Mister Cob can handle the barrier between the worlds, and you need to assist him. You haven’t traveled so much that you’re in any danger, and neither has Benoy.”
“So it’s repeated time travel that…” Violet gazed at Cob, her chest now aching. “I thought, I mean, I wasn’t sure, but…really? That’s what’s wrong with you?”
“We don’t know,” Cob said. His voice was rough. He looked away. “I’ll be fine, right, doc?”
“Son, I think it’s time to be completely honest with everyone,” Vere said. He put a hand on Violet’s shoulder. “There’s a chance Benoy or I may have to retrieve you alone.”
“What? No!” Violet squirmed away from Vere. “Cob, no, you’re going to be fine. Let’s do this. Ben.”
“No, no Ben,” Cob said. “Just you and me against the world, kid.” He took her hand in his. “Doc, can you give us like two seconds?”
“I have to get my backup battery regardless,” Vere said, shuffling back outside.
“Violet, I…I’m no good at this stuff,” Cob said. “But don’t pin any hopes on me, even though I think you know I—”
Violet took his face her in her hands and silenced him with a kiss.
Thursday, May 11, 1587, Roanoke Island, British colony
It didn’t look that different from places she was used to. Campgrounds, hiking trails, state parks…Violet took in the edges of the colony grounds and saw nothing remarkable, except for the knowledge that the woods ringing the walls and gates were, in her time, shopping centers and hotels. What she thought of as civilization was still unknown. And yet this was where and when she was born; this was where, if not for Claudio Florence’s plans, she would have died.
But as a baby? Or could I have grown up?
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The air held no scent of pollution, nothing chemical or artificial. She smelled the woods themselves, the mud and flowers and even a musky odor that suggested the presence of animals. There was a hint of wood smoke on the air, too, an autumnal smell that made her think of harvesting gourds and drying pumpkins. In her costume, she looked like a woman used to boiling root vegetables in a cauldron-like pot over an open flame.
Is that my imagination? Or a memory?
“Come on,” Cob urged. “We have to find Warner and then your folks.” He strode down the hill toward the front gate.
“Are we at the right time?” Violet asked as she followed.
“Yeah, I think so,” Cob replied. “When Ben and I came back too late, it looked abandoned.” He pointed to a plume of smoke rising from a chimney. “See that? There are still people here.”
“Oh, good.”
A young man stood at the gate. Cob’s grin widened the closer they got to him. “Hey, my man.”
“Beg pardon?” The young man narrowed his eyes and studied Cob and Violet. “Halt there, the both of you.”
Something caught Cob’s attention from the guard to a place a few feet into the woods. “Whoa. I haven’t seen that one before.” He wandered off. Violet couldn’t tell what drew him away.
“I, uh, I must apologize for my companion, goodman,” Violet said, trying to remember how she needed to speak in this time. “He is suffering from illness and we seek shelter.”
“Who are you?” the guard asked.
“That fellow is my husband. My name is Virginia Lessep, and we—”
“Violet!”
Violet turned at the sound of Cob’s voice. A giant winged creature stood in a clearing with him. Cob seemed ecstatic and waved his arms at her.
“By your leave, sir,” Violet said. She curtsied as best she could and ran to Cob and the creature.
“Do you see the gateway?” Cob asked once she reached them. He pointed behind the creature, but when Violet looked all she saw were trees and grass.
“No, but as long as you see it, that’s all that matters,” Violet replied. “I take it this is a Mothman.” She shrank back a bit from the thing, all mouse-colored fur and batwings.
Cob laughed. “You’re pretty sharp.”
“Yes, well, that kid back there probably doesn’t think so. Let me see if I can get inside,” Violet said. She nodded at the Mothman. “You and this one should probably stay here and guard the gateway in case it closes or something.” She frowned. “Do they close?”
“I think so,” Cob said. “I can’t really communicate with him on this side, only over there.” He looked up at the creature. “Can you understand me, man? Or lady? I can’t, sorry, I can’t really tell.”
The Mothman cooed, bird-like.
; “Yeah, no, that’s not gonna work.” Cob shrugged. “Sorry, Violet. I’ll stick around here. You find your folks first, then we’ll get everybody else over.”
“This’ll require a lot of convincing, I’m sure,” Violet said. “Do you think there’s time?”
The Mothman cooed again and sat down, folding its long legs under itself. It gave a little shudder of wings before hunkering down deeper into the tall grass and closing its eyes. It was invisible to anyone not looking for it, its coat blending into the colors of the pasture.
“I think it wants a nap,” Cob said. “We’re probably good for a while.” He sat down beside it. “Don’t panic, but don’t dawdle, either,” he urged her.
“I’ll try.” Violet trudged back toward the gate, where the guard was now holding his musket out, the barrel pointing straight at her.
“Goody Lessep, you did not identify your original location,” the guard said. “Your husband behaves strangely. I must take you to speak to Governor Dare.”
Dare?
Violet’s heart sped up, but she fought to retain her composure. “Of course,” she said. “It would be an honor to make his acquaintance.”
~
“Sir, two unknown persons have breached the colony, and—”
Ananias heard no further words from the guard, though the young man kept speaking. Standing halfway across the room was a woman who could have been Eleanor’s twin. She was slender, with white-blond hair pinned up in small curls around a heart-shaped face. Even from this distance, he could see her eyes were sea blue, just like his wife’s.
But it was not Eleanor, for Eleanor was younger, her hair darker, her figure more buxom. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.
“You are a White, somehow,” Ananias said. “John only had one other child besides my wife, and it was a boy.”
“My name is Lessep,” Violet said. “My husband and I come from the north and seek shelter. He is ill, and the rest of our group has returned to England.”
“No, it hasn’t,” Ananias said. “You are not English, though indeed you resemble my own Eleanor. Your speech is odd.” He stood up straighter. “There was a woman here once, a spy from the English or the Spanish who claimed she was from Nova Scotia. Some thought her a witch.”
The young woman fidgeted. “Please, governor. I beg you. My husband is very ill. He rests in a field, having visions of invisible monsters. I believe it is a fever. If you have medicine, I can pay you.”
Ananias studied the woman. “Pay me with what?” He spread his arms wide. “We have no one to trade with. Our supplies from England have dwindled. We eat what we grow. Our coats are animal hide. We have no use for money.” Perhaps once they might have, if money could have stopped the shadowy figure who stole his daughter away. This woman was far too late for that. “Lest you think I am the lout my father-in-law believes, I have no use for anything else, either.” His lip curled up into a sneer. “I am faithful to your cousin.”
“My cousin?”
“That’s who you are, is it not? Eleanor’s cousin?”
The young woman eyed the guards lining the wall behind Ananias. “I suppose I should stop denying it,” she said, her words measured. “Yes, I am.”
“John sent you to see that I am governing well?” Ananias asked.
“Not in so many words,” the woman said, “but I am beginning to suspect it.”
“He sent you without supplies?”
“We were set upon by thieves,” the woman replied.
Ananias shook his head. “The savages are unpredictable.”
The woman flinched but said nothing.
“John and I do not always see eye to eye,” Ananias said. He stroked his short beard as he paced. “Still, you are family to my wife and are in need. Take Eleanor and me to your husband. She will tend to him, and I will discuss what little we can provide for you. It pains me to say that we cannot bring you inside, however, lest his fever spread to others.”
The woman relaxed and smiled. “Of course, sir.”
~
“Cousin Virginia? But I didn’t—oh!”
Eleanor Dare was more beautiful than the pictures in Ben’s books. Violet blinked in astonishment. It was like looking in a cloudy mirror, seeing her mother. Ananias looked from one woman to the other. “The resemblance, I am certain, you can both appreciate,” he said.
Eleanor smiled. “Perhaps my husband already told you. Our daughter is called Virginia. How lovely that Aunt Cornelia had the same notion as I.”
Violet nodded. “Lovely indeed.”
Eleanor’s smile disappeared. “Husband, this woman is an imposter.” She stepped toward Violet. “I have no Aunt Cornelia, and I presume your mother is not accidentally called that as well.”
Violet fought back an urge to run. “Please, ma’am. Sir. If I tell you the truth, you won’t believe me. I’m here to save your lives.”
“Who are you really?” Eleanor demanded.
The door to the public house banged open, and the room was filled with a loud voice, accompanied by a rustling of wings. “She’s your daughter, Misses Dare, and I’m helping her prevent your murder.”
Violet spun around. “Oh, my God, Cob, you brought that here?” The doorway was filled with the Mothman’s giant form. As if in reply, it raised its head and screeched.
The Dares both dropped to the floor, and the guards raised their muskets. “A demon!” Ananias shouted. “Shoot it, Warner.”
The guard from the gate trembled. The Mothman entered the room, stepped over the Dares, and stared at the guards. Warner raised his musket higher, but the Mothman batted it away as if it were a twig.
“Governor, I don’t think I can,” Warner said, his voice reduced to a whimper.
“We have to go now,” Cob said. He withdrew a small pistol from his coat and aimed it at Ananias. “Sir, ma’am, we’re leaving. Now.” He nodded at Violet. “Take your mother. I’ll bring your dad along here.”
Ananias scrambled to his feet. “You will do no such thing.”
Cob fired the pistol into the ceiling. A rain of wood chips and sawdust sprinkled down. “Won’t I?” Cob asked. “Come on, governor. God, what is it with you people with that title that you gotta be raging dicks about everything? Sheesh. Less talking, more walking.”
Violet held out her hand to Eleanor. “Ma’am, please come with us. I promise we won’t hurt you.”
“But the demon!” Eleanor shrieked. Tears streamed down her face. “And you, you can’t be my daughter unless you’re a ghost.”
Violet grabbed Eleanor by the arm and pulled her out the door. “This isn’t exactly how I hoped this meeting would go,” she said. “I don’t have any way to prove anything, but yes, I’m your daughter.”
“My daughter is dead.” Eleanor struggled a bit against Violet’s grip as she walked behind her. “A man came in the night and stole her. We never saw his face.”
“Yes, he stole me. He didn’t kill me.”
“That was mere months ago. How is it that you are so fast grown?”
They reached the outer gates of the colony. Here and there, a few residents stopped their activities to stare. “You there!” a man called. “Unhand the governor’s wife.”
“We have to hurry,” Violet urged. She picked up her pace and looked over her shoulder. “Cob!”
Cob emerged from the building with Ananias in tow, the Mothman walking behind them. Shrieks rose up from the residents milling about. The Mothman spread its wings, took flight, and soared over the outer fence. It let out a high-pitched keening from the other side.
Silence fell. Both Eleanor and Ananias ceased resisting Violet and Cob and let themselves be led through the front gate and out to the clearing.
“There.” Cob pointed to the same spot he’d indicated before. The Mothman was now nowhere to be seen.
“Where’d it go?” Violet asked.
“The other side,” Cob replied. “I can see it, just a little.” He nudged Ananias forward and released him. “Y
ou two, say your goodbyes to your daughter, and then you’re coming with me.” He strode across the clearing. “To safety,” he added. “We’re doing all this to save you.”
“Is he telling the truth,” Eleanor asked, “or are we being sent to hell?”
“It’s true,” Violet replied. “Look, it’s very complicated, but I am Virginia. I grew up somewhere time moves more quickly. Because of that, I know that if I don’t send you and everybody else here to safety, you’ll be murdered by a very bad man.”
“The man who stole you?” Ananias asked.
“The man who took me was rescuing me from the murderer,” Violet replied. “Where I live, I’m safe. I’m happy. And I do things like save good people from harm.” She tried to smile, but tears fell instead. “Will you let me save you?”
“We have to go now,” Cob said. “The door is closing.”
“Go with him,” Violet said. “He also saves good people. You can trust him.”
“But the demon!” Eleanor protested.
Violet shook her head. “It’s not a demon.”
Ananias took his wife’s hand. “Eleanor, I think she speaks the truth,” he said. “God help me if I am proven wrong, but I believe it isn’t hell we’re being sent to. I cannot distrust a woman who so clearly shares your face and soul, my love.” He smiled at Violet. “Other things fly and travel through worlds. Things like angels.” He took Violet’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you, daughter, for sending us to heaven.”
~
Cob staggered from the gateway alone. Violet rushed to catch him. He was light in her arms, his face even leaner than before. “I can’t get anybody else over,” he whispered. He coughed, and a thin spatter of blood shot through the air.
“Oh, God.” Violet eased Cob to the ground. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ll activate the retrieval and—”
