by Trinity Crow
A small noise caught my attention and I looked up to see Cassie beckoning from the doorway. A glance at the sleeping Tas showed the girl's breathing was even and calm. I tiptoed out of the room to let her rest. Cassie pulled me across the hall into the next room and shut the door.
"Hey," she said in an excited whisper. "Nikki and I thought we would surprise Tas by doing some cleaning tonight." Cassie bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically as if urging me to agree.
I had to smile at her eagerness. It sounded like a good way to maybe wear out the other two girls. After all, there were no personal possessions in the house that they might disturb or move without Tasmyn's permission. And unlike my house, this place was very dusty.
"We figured we'd start in the bathrooms," Cassie said, mistaking my silence for hesitation. "Since they're going to be needed." She stifled a laugh.
"Good idea," I told Cassie. "But is there water?"
"We found some buckets," Cassie said with a shrug. "And there's that little lake. I've got cleaning supplies in my trunk."
I supposed even lake water would be better than the state the bathrooms currently were in. That dead spider especially in one of the sinks gave me the creeps.
"Okay," I said. "I'm in."
I followed Cassie to the front bathroom where Nikki was already busy scrubbing a bathtub. Collecting two of the buckets, I made my way quietly out the front door. The lake, I supposed it would more correctly be called a pond, was the one thing that I was jealous of. It would be lovely, I admitted, to have this on my land. I followed the paved path to a small park bench that sat facing the lake. Stepping carefully down to the water's edge, I knelt to dip my buckets in. The lake appeared to be basking in the stillness of the evening, its glassy surface reflecting the late afternoon sky, dotted with a few lazy clouds and shadowed by the over-hanging trees. As my bucket broke the glassy water, the sun hit the horizon. The final rays turned the waters of the quiet lake a dark and bloody red.
Startled, I dropped the bucket, the motion tilting me off balance. I threw my hands forward to break my fall. As my hands slipped into the bloody water, a storm of images and sounds broke over me. . .and I tumbled into the water as one tumbles into a dream.
***
Alarmed, I scrambled back to the bank. I was still at the pond, but the land around me had changed drastically. Instead of a view of empty fields and the stark lines of Rickrack House, thick woods pressed me on all sides. Frightened, I cast a glance over my shoulder. My dread turned to panic when I could find no sign of Tasmyn's house.
Instead of a sinking sun, the light that broke over me came from high overhead and streamed through the trees, the light refracted by shifting leaves and branches. Around me, the woods sang with the shrill noises of insects undisturbed by my sudden appearance. This place was lush and green, the broad-leafed understory very different from the grasses and wildflowers of the fields that had been there moments before. But, I thought uneasily, there was an eerie familiarity about this place.
My body bent without warning, tilting towards the ground. A tubed-shaped basket woven from grasses lay at my feet and my hands reached for it. With a ugly shock, I saw the hands that caught up the woven basket and slung it across my back were smaller and more delicately boned than mine.
A dream, I told myself frantically. You're just dreaming.
I tried for a deep breath, but this body was not mine to control. I'd had these dreams before. Dreams where I floated undetected in someone else's body, Dreams that left me terrified the Elders would burn me for a witch should they discover how my spirit went wandering in the night.
But here there were no Elders and slowly, I felt my fear subside. Above me, a bird sang a liquid chain of notes and a warm breeze ran a welcoming caress across bare skin. Lungs that were not my own pulled in a deep breath of sun-scented air. I let go and let what would unfold.
In this dream, we were in the woods, this woman and I. As always, I was only a visitor, my spirit riding easily in the flesh of another. Through our eyes, I could see ancient oaks spreading laced branches in a protective circle above us. Through our ears, I heard the faint off-tune humming that came from our lips. There was no control.
No need for it, I reminded myself as I rested lightly in the unknown body. The fear drained out of me.
Yes. I had been here before.
The woman's slow steps paused, the springy moss sinking slightly beneath our bare feet. I felt the brush of fringe from the coarse skirt against bare legs as we stooped and dug carefully with a pointed stick at the base of a clover-like plant. Small tubers, pale against the dark, loamy earth, separated easily from the stalks and were gathered up by slender fingers, rough from work. I felt the twist of the carry basket slung across our back as the tubers dropped in. Our lips parted and words tumbled out. A chant in a fluid, melodic language that I had never heard before, but was somehow instinctively a part of me, of us, flowed forth as this woman gave thanks to the Mother Earth for providing.
A different bird called, a high and keening sound. A hunter frustrated by elusive prey.
The woman moved us forward again and I took in the lush growth, unusual beneath oaks. We entered waist-high ferns, wading through them, feet sure and steady on an unseen path. The sound of water came to us and the woman moved ahead eagerly. When the ferns parted, we stood on the bank of a dark stream, the surface littered with leaves and weeds. She stepped forward and then knelt at the edge, ignoring the weight of the basket pressing on weary shoulders. I caught a glimpse of straight, black hair in a smooth braid swinging forward as the woman leaned towards the stream. A hand swept away the floating mass and our eyes widened eagerly, waiting for the water to quiet, our fractured image to clear. Slowly, the water stilled and the reflection was revealed. I felt no surprise from her as our features wavered and changed. Eyes became blue and hair turned blond, the straight nose and high cheek bones became rounded, replacing our own.
The word she spoke was unknown but the meaning clear. . . this new visitor was welcome.
The humid air pressed against us as if alive, then our ears caught a new sound, low, persistent. . . drumming. We gathered ourself to our feet and stood, our mind blank as we pressed through the bushes, following the compelling sound to its source.
The bushes parted and we stepped from thick forest to a clearing. Bare feet pressed on bare earth and the contact made a delicious wantonness sweep over us. The drumming, the pulling of the beat, called as we moved our body to the deepest rhythm of the Earth. Swaying, twisting, a communion of life passed through the soles of our feet, from our body to the living skin of the earth. Arms held me, bent me, turned me in an ecstasy of sensation. We gave ourselves up to the joy.
The music stopped and I found I had returned to myself, but now, I stood on the edges of the forest watching. To my left, sat the rabbit, to my right, the fox. Both stared straight ahead at the scene before us.
A woman, blond with fair, rounded features, danced in a clearing, her body a whirlwind of ecstasy. The very air hummed with life. A pounding, not of drums, but of booted feet made me tremble. Into the glade burst a crowd of men, their clothes roughly made and foreign.
Hands pulled the girl down, voices shouted. Violence swam in the air and the girl drowned in it. As they closed about her, I could see only flashes as they pulled her, bound and gagged, through the woods. Terror-filled, I fled from them as they turned and dragged her my way. I ran through the trees which were no longer sheltering but dark and filled with shadows. I leapt one pace ahead of them, a stitch in my side and my breath coming in sharp pants.
There! There was the lake.
I sobbed in relief. Surely here I could escape. Too late I realized I had in my relief slowed and stopped. The captors crashed into me, unseeing, and knocked me to the ground. They dragged her bound, struggling body over me. I fought for breath as my face pressed into the earth, and then our spirits collided. . .and we were one. The enraged men dragged us along, heedless of the roc
ks and roots scraping my skin. I knew they meant to do murder this day.
Frantically, we kicked and screamed against the gag in our mouth. The blond woman's thoughts tore through our mind.
Why did he not come? Why did he not save me? The agony of it tore at at us. I was his and he had forsaken me.
To the water's edge, the men pulled me. The bright, white, cleric collar of one man seared across my sight. A high, buzzing noise filled my ears as he pulled a bible from his pocket and began to read. The priest lifted my head and drew a cross of ash upon my forehead. Bitter, stinging soot fell into my eyes.
"Felicite," he pronounced our name with righteous disgust. "Felicite Angelique Dumaine. You are charged with witchcraft. With blasphemy against our Lord and the good folk of this town. Repent of your sins and let death cleanse you of this evil!"
I screamed against the rough cloth but to no avail. They lifted me and threw me into the lake. The water closed over my head, cutting off the sky. My skirts filled and the sodden weight pulled me down. Spots of red bloomed before my unseeing eyes and I struggled harder. I could not hold on. I must breathe. I must. . .
Strong arms wrapped around me. I thought now, now we would rise to the surface. Now I would fill my lungs with air and light. But down, down, he pulled me and wrapped me in a blessed, unknowing peace.
Chapter 20
My eyes flew open and I swayed in shock from the realization that I was back in my own time. At first, I could only see darkness and then, there was light. Moonlight swept through the window as I stood, staring out. The cool, white radiance illuminated the fields in front of me and across them, Rickrack House stood. Shockingly, it had come to life, golden light streaming from windows once bricked and boarded. The picture before me was of comfort, safety and home . . . a beacon that called to me. Bidding me to return.
“Abby?"
Someone spoke from behind me and I couldn't place the voice. Turning reluctantly from the radiant glow before me, I peered into the darkened room to see who had called my name.
“He walks . . ." Tasmyn's voice was rough and breathless. "He comes . . .”
As she stepped backwards, moonlight from the window fell across features overwritten with blind terror. Her eyeballs bulged as she backed away from me and then with a small cry, she fell backwards and hit the floor.
Still reeling from the images or memories - or was it madness? - I hurried forward and crouched beside the fallen girl.
"Tasmyn?" I said softly as I shook her. But there was only a small mumble and then, unbelievably, a snore. I stared at her in astonishment. Had she been sleepwalking?
Not knowing if there was any truth to the old belief that waking a sleepwalker was dangerous, I grasped her under her arms and tugged her back to the bed. With Tasmyn taken care of, I hurried back to the window and stared across the fields at Rickrack House. It had not been my imagination or the remnant of a dream. There was light shining from the windows of my house.
“Abby?” the voice called from behind me.
Startled, I whirled around, horrified to think Tasmyn might be standing there in the dark and that the eerie scene would repeat itself all over again.
Cassie stumbled away from my violent movement, panic in her eyes. Behind her, Nikki looked equally alarmed.
“Is everything okay?" Cassie asked, her voice wary.
“I don't know,” I told her. “Look at this.”
Cassie moved reluctantly up beside me and her loud gasp echoed in the empty room.
“What is it?” Nikki said anxiously, from behind us.
“Holy crap!” Cassie said. “What's going on over there?”
Nikki squeezed up next to us, her body tense beside mine. And then with a sigh of relief, she relaxed.
“Look,” she said, pointing at the house. At the far edge of the horizon, a pink line grew slowly. As we watched, the pink shaded into gold and its pale light spread across the sleeping fields.
“The sun's coming up,” Nikki said, “from behind the house and it's shining through that big window at the top of the stairs.” Her relief was evident, but it was cut short by Cassie's next comment.
“That can't be right,” Cassie objected. “It looks like the light is coming from the downstairs too. And those windows are still bricked up.”
“Maybe you left the door open, Abby.” Nikki's voice was both pleading and hopeful.
“Maybe,” I answered her. “But I need to go home. I need to go home now.”
The strange dream was playing uneasy melodies in my head. Glancing down from the window's height, I shivered uneasily at the dark glimmer of ripples across the lake's surface. What had happened to me? Where had the time gone? I wanted to ask the other girls, but I was afraid of their answers. I gathered my courage. I could not let fear win. Determinedly, I pulled myself away and went to collect my bag.
”Abby, you can't go now!” Nikki protested, following me away from the window.
“It's still dark and someone could be in there!” Cassie made no effort to lower her voice or hide her annoyance. “Just wait. We can call the police and have them check it out.”
“I have to go,” I told them, ignoring their protests as I started towards the door. “It's too dangerous if I don't.”
“It's too dangerous if you do,” Nikki retorted. “You don't know what you're walking into.”
“Not dangerous for me, Nikki.” I knew from the way she startled that she knew what I referred to. In the dim light of the room, her eyes met mine and she flinched. “Dangerous for the rest of you.”
Nikki wilted, all her objections gone. As she stepped aside, Cassie huffed out a breath.
“You're just going to give up?” she snapped at Nikki, pushing past her. “Dammit, Abby! No one's going to drive you over there in the middle of night and maybe get killed by a maniac. What if it's that guy's brother wandering around?”
“No one's asking you to come,” I told her intently. “I don't mind walking.”
“Oh, God! You're so ridiculous,” Cassie growled. “You know I'll drive you. But you're making me breakfast!”
In spite of her tone, her words were not hurtful, because her actions said she was on my side. Nikki, who I had thought I could count on, had left and Cassie, who I thought unstable, was turning out to be oddly loyal.
Nikki stepped back, her face pale and blank, as she let us go. Cassie shot her a disapproving look.
“You have my number,” Cassie told her briefly. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” Nikki said lamely, looking down at the floor. “Thanks.”
“Don't mention it,” Cassie snorted as she followed me down the stairs.
By the time we stepped out the door, the sun had broken past the horizon and the clear light of morning filled the air.
“I still say we should call the police.” Cassie's jaw stuck out in a stubborn line.
“You can if you want to,” I told her, “but I'm not going to wait.” I stared straight ahead as we drove the short half mile between Tasmyn's house and mine. One thing this night had taught me. . .. I could be stubborn too.
We pulled up and Cassie let out a whistle
“Holy smokes,” she said “It is coming from downstairs.”
“The sun,” I told her briefly. “Just like Nikki said.”
“Ha-ha,” Cassie said, “but it's coming through the cracks, Abby.” Her tone was flat with disbelief, but I just shrugged.
“It's because the mortar is really old,” I told her. “The officers mentioned it to me yesterday. That even though it looked okay, I should be careful because it was no longer sound.”
“They did?” Cassie sounded unconvinced.
“Yes, they did.” I spoke the lie as firmly as I could. “I don't have a way to cook yet,” I told her, changing the subject, “but I can offer you a peanut butter sandwich.”
Cassie made a gagging noise. “Gah, no thanks,” she said. “I need coffee. How about I run into town and get breakfast? You could
come with me and by the time we come back, it'll be daytime.” She gave me a hopeful smile.
“You go,” I told her, opening the car door. “It's fine, really. Stop worrying so much. It's a lovely morning to work in the garden." I paused. She had been nice enough to drive me here. "Sorry I woke you so early,” I told her, offering an apologetic smile. I waved a hand as I shut the door and hurried up the stairs to my home.
***
The house seem to exhale as I entered, welcoming me back. The feeling brought a smile to my face and pushed the unexplained events of yesterday out of my mind. It didn't matter that I had lost some time. Even the horrifying scene that I had dreamed could not touch me in this house. And it was a dream, I told myself, stubbornly dismissing the memory of being pulled down into the depths of that dark water rose up. None of that mattered now. I was safe. Nothing could harm me here.
I dropped the satchel containing my nightclothes on the couch and walked through to the kitchen. The crash of cinder blocks falling to the ground made me jump. In astonishment, I watched as another tumbled to the ground outside, letting in the cool morning air.
The house was coming alive, opening itself back up to light and life.
I stared out the newly-made opening at the brush and trees beyond. These powers, these forces at work, made me shiver in both awe and unease. There was no sense that the house meant any harm to me, but I had little doubt it could be dangerous, like a beloved family pet roused to anger when an intruder threatened harm. For now, I was one of the pack. More cinder blocks freed themselves from the mortared bonds and fell outward to lie among the grass and weeds. A sense of protectiveness filled me. Strange things were happening here. Unaccountable things that should have frightened me silly. But in this house, I had only felt safe and I would return that honor by telling no one of the things that were unfolding around me.
But the spiral . . . that small voice whispered.
