I looked all around and saw nothing of importance, until I heard a soft creaking noise above me. I looked up and saw Greer lying upon the rafters, over the heads of Zachariah and the old man, but staring directly at me.
I was caught in his gaze. His expression was transfixed upon me and he motioned for me to come to where he sat.
At first, I tried climbing my way up to him, but the height to the roof was so great that I felt it was impossible.
“Jump,” I heard his voice say in my head.
I leapt up into the air and moved as though I was floating. I seated myself beside him and let my legs swing back and forth from the wooden beam that I sat on.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered, as he stared down at the two men below us.
“I do not really know. I just feel asleep and when I awoke, I was in spirit. Sneachta led me here,” I whispered.
“You shouldn't be here Aislin. You are not safe out on your own . . . even in spirit,” he replied with a hint of annoyance.
I did not answer, but listened to what was going on below us. They were bellowing out drinking songs now, an activity that hardly seemed worthy of my attention and certainly not worthy of my ears.
“Is that Mr. Sutphin sitting with Zachariah?”
Greer nodded, “Aye.”
I looked down at the man. He was dressed in fine clothing, a dark grey wool coat, black britches and boots so polished that the light danced upon them. He was a very broad man and rather round in the middle. His hair was dark, and gathered back into a low ponytail that was tied with a red ribbon, and a streak of grey colored hair ran through the crown of his head, making him look rather like an old skunk. His face was harsh and lined, and on his hands were many scars.
“They married Abigail off to an old pirate,” Greer said in disgust.
“How can you tell?” I was alarmed by his words.
“When he walks, he has the very specific gate of one who has been at sea most of their life. And see those scars on his hands? Those are rope burns. And that one on his cheek? That's from a cutlass blade.”
“You can tell all that just from observing him?” I asked in astonishment.
“When you have been alive as long as I have, you pick up a thing or two.”
I looked down at the man and made note of all that Greer had pointed out.
“Have they said anything interesting?” I asked.
Greer ran his hand through his hair and sighed, “No … not yet at least. Once the ale kicks in, they may start loosening up.”
“It hasn't kicked it yet?”
My eyes widened at the sight of the two drunken men who had linked their arms. They slurred the words to an old English sailing song and slammed their free hands on the table to keep time.
“Not yet. These men are accustomed to drinking. It will take a while for them to truly feel the effects and loosen their tongues.”
We peered down at the tavern floor for a long while. The men kept singing, the ale kept being delivered and we sat in silence until finally, I could take it no longer.
“Why haven't you come to see me?” I asked, while trying to hide the sorrow that was straining to break free.
“I do not trust myself Aislin. I thought you understood that?” his gaze was fixed upon the men. He did not look at me.
“When we are married, will you leave me every month then?” I whispered.
Greer's head snapped up and he turned his attention to me, “I do not plan on leaving you, but I also assume that I will be well fed when we are married and living in Scotland.” His voice was sharp. He did not like that I was here.
“I will go then,” I whispered, as I slipped off the rafters and landed softly on the floor.
“Aislin, wait . . . I am sorry,” Greer pleaded from above me, but I too had a temper and was unwilling to give in this time.
As I passed where Zachariah and Sutphin sat, I saw the front door open. Zachariah's close friends, Clement, Jeremiah and Alden walked into the tavern.
I stopped in my tracks, frozen at the sight of them. I thought that they had seen me, but they were actually looking at Zachariah. I scrambled to get out of their way as they walked in my direction.
“Come back Aislin, please,” I heard Greer call after me.
After a moment, my anger subsided and I lifted myself back to his side.
“I am sorry for my temper,” he said, as we watched the boys pull chairs over to the table where the other two sat.
“Why didn't you come to me in spirit?” I inquired in a fragile tone.
Greer gripped the rafter, his knuckles turning white, the board creaking in response.
“I have been searching for food for the past two nights, and I did not feel it safe to leave my body for any given length of time,” his voice was strained and his teeth were clenched as he spoke, “I have missed you greatly Aislin. Do you not understand the torment I am going through? I have been without you for numerous life times. I finally find you again and now I am restricted to when I can be with you.”
“I understand Greer. I am sorry that I have been so selfish. I miss you horribly.”
“I know my love,” he said softly.
Below us, more ale was being poured, but the singing had subsided. Now, the men huddled together conspiratorially. This was what we had been waiting for.
********************
“To the women we love, and the women we love to hate,” Sutphin raised his glass in a toast.
All the boys clanked their pints to his and smiled in amusement at Sutphin’s cleverness.
“Speaking of women, how are you enjoying being married to my beloved sister?” Zachariah asked Sutphin in a leisurely tone.
The old man shrugged his shoulders with indifference, “I have always hated breaking in a woman. The incessant crying, their pretending not to want you, having to force them to obey…it’s a tiresome game.”
I felt my stomach tighten as I thought of poor Abigail, and tears stung my eyes as I realized that my vision had been correct. Greer held my hand and gave it a little squeeze to comfort me.
“Just beat her until she stops whining. That’s what my father always did,” Zachariah suggested.
“That’s your baby sister…” Jeremiah said in an appalled tone.
“You do not have a sister, so you do not understand how wretched it is to live with one,” Zachariah snapped back.
“Don’t worry about your sister, I will have her perfectly suited to my needs within a few weeks,” the pirate said through a sinister smile, “But I don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. It’s boring enough to live with her, let alone have to talk about her when I’m drinking. Tell me then, what's all this trouble with that Collins girl?”
Zachariah scowled and clenched his uninjured fist, “That miserable little jilt,” he said, as he spit onto the floor.
I watched as Greer's body leaned forward, ready to pounce on the boy for using such a derogatory term towards me. I reached over and pressed my hand across his chest to calm him. Neither of us spoke, we needed to hear what they were up to.
“So she is a tease then?” Sutphin inquired.
“No, she is no tease. She never gave Zachariah any disillusions of how much she despised him,” laughed the rather intoxicated Jeremiah.
He was giggling so hard that he threatened to topple the whole table over. He was a short boy, stocky but very muscular, with olive skin and light brown hair. Of all the boys who befriended Zachariah, I had always liked Jeremiah the most. I stifled a laugh as I watched him slump over in his chair, while Zachariah's patience was waning.
“Shut up you fool,” he yelled at his friend, “She is an insolent, wretched girl.”
Sutphin wagged his finger in front of Zachariah's face, “Then the question remains . . . why do you care so much about her?” he slurred.
“You have not seen Aislin,” Clement smiled wickedly.
He lifted a spoon so that he could examine his reflection in it, an
d carefully fixed his mane of light blonde hair. He then raised his glass in a mocking toast. His narrow, grey eyes glinted in the firelight as he adjusted the frilly lace collar of his shirt. Clement has always made me uneasy. He was the Governor's son, and used his prowess to push people around ever since he was a child. Zachariah made allegiance with the boy when they were very young and had often benefited from Clement's position of power.
Alden touched his glass to Clement’s as his dark eyes landed on Zachariah. “She really does drive you mad,” Alden smirked, as he surveyed his miserable friend.
Zachariah turned crimson and he slumped back into his chair. “She infuriates me,” he grumbled.
Alden smiled broadly, revealing a set of crooked teeth that made his features even more rat-like, “She’s just a girl, Zachariah. They’re all the same in the long run. Think of her no differently than you would the whores at the port and you’ll be much better off. Have your fun with her and discard her for something better…that’s what I say,” Alden slurred.
My eyes flicked to Greer, his jaw was clenched and his eyes were turning black. I reached out and touched his hand.
“Be still,” I whispered.
Greer's mouth twitched, a white fang flashed in the darkness, but he steadied himself.
“So she is fine to look at? So what?” Sutphin began, “You will learn with age, that all women are the same. It does not matter what they look like, they all serve the same purpose. Take your sister for example,” he slapped Zachariah's arm with his giant spade of a hand, “she has the face of a horse and the intelligence of a gnat, but I married her anyway, and do you know why?” He looked around the table waiting for a response from the boys. None of whom had a coherent answer for the old pirate. “Because it was good business, that's why.”
“My sister does not have the face of a horse,” Zachariah said, before chugging down his pint. He slammed the flagon down on the table, “She has the face of a mule!” he laughed.
All the men joined in and this time, and it was Greer who steadied me from lashing out in anger. Abigail was pretty and although she was very naïve, she was not stupid.
“My point is simple,” garbled Sutphin, “Do not worry about this girl. Find another, any other, but one that will bring you good business dealings and alliances. They are all the same in the end anyway.”
“That's not the point at all. She has dishonored me . . . made me the laughing stock of this town by running off with some foreigner.” He sloppily brandished his arm across the table, hitting several mugs and flagons, which slid across the floor.
The barmaids scurried to clean up the mess and the men looked down upon the frightened women.
“Well then, kill her for her behavior and be done with it,” Sutphin laughed.
Laughter faded from Jeremiah's expression, “You cannot be serious?”
Zachariah and Sutphin exchanged a glance, “I plan to do more than just that . . . and my new brother-in-law is going to help me,” Zachariah snarled in a low whisper.
Before he could continue, the tavern door swung wide open. A few of the townsmen entered the bar and made their way to the table occupied by Zachariah and his company, “Pardon us for bothering you good sirs, but Mayor Marthaler has asked us to come and get you. It seems there's been another murder close to town, and we are gathering at the church to start the hunting parties.”
The table cleared and all the men swiftly left the tavern, throwing money down on the table and floor on their way out the doors.
“Get back to the cabin Aislin,” Greer said, before leaping down from the rafters and disappearing into the shadows.
********************
I had made my way back to Martha's and Sneachta had accompanied me the entire journey. I had to reenter my body before I could open the cabin door to let her inside and I found that the home remained empty. Just Sneachta and I occupied it. I had hoped that Martha or Becky would be home and would have some news regarding today's events, but I was once again left with my own thoughts. Zachariah was planning something, and there was more to his plot then just removing Becky from my life.
As my mind relived this afternoon’s happenings, I remembered the look of rage that had spread across Greer's face when Zachariah had insulted me. He was having trouble controlling his supernatural side, and I was worried that he might slip and reveal himself.
I cast a protection spell for Greer and spent the rest of my solitude holding one hand onto my necklace, invoking its power to protect me as well.
It was hours later, when Martha finally returned. Night had fallen now and she looked exhausted and worried.
“This time it was a Native girl who was slain,” she said, as she worked magic to protect the house.
“Where did it happen?” I asked, while following behind Martha as I lined every doorway and window with her special black salt.
“It happened across the river, on Burlington Island. She was alone by the waterfront when she was attacked,” Martha sighed as she dropped onto the bed.
“Do you think it was because the Puca thought it was me?” I thought of Rebecca and her long dark hair and I knew that the girl who was just killed would also have had similar colored hair.
Martha rubbed her temples, “No. I think that she was most likely very much like us. He must have sensed her magic and gone after her.”
I nodded in agreement, but I felt rather faint. Once again, this was because of me. Another innocent girl had lost her life because this monster was somehow drawn to our town by my presence.
“Was she very young?” I asked quietly.
Martha walked over to me and wrapped me in her arms.
“She was younger than you are by a year or two. Do not blame yourself poor girl. This is not your fault,” she hushed me as I shook in her arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
December 18th 1734
Day Break
Five men were sitting in a small, dark room. Candlelight flickered off their faces, giving them an otherworldly, glow.
“I want them all dead,” one hissed under his breath.
The oldest man amongst the group raised his hand to quiet the boy, “You need to gain control of your temper. You cannot even hope to execute a plan like this if your emotions are going to get in the way,” he said in a raspy voice.
One of the men shifted uneasily in his seat, “This is a bad idea.”
In the haze of my dream, I could make out Jeremiah's kind face amongst the other men, “You are letting your jealousy consume you Zachariah. This whole idea is absurd,” he said.
“No one asked for your opinion Jeremiah, so shut your mouth,” he snapped back.
Clement poured more alcohol into his glass and drank it down, “My father owns this town. Nothing is going to go wrong,” he slurred.
Jeremiah let out a hard laugh, “Everything is going to go wrong! Listen to yourselves. You are planning to kill an innocent girl simply because she rejected you, and you have the audacity to believe that you will get away with it . . . I want nothing to do with this,” he shook his head as he stood to leave the table.
The oldest man stood and pulled a long sword from his waistband, “He will talk if we let him go,” he growled, as he brandished his blade about the room.
Clement put his hand on the wrist of Sutphin, who held the point of the cutlass upon Jeremiah's throat, “He is still our friend. Put that bloody thing down,” he swayed.
Zachariah came out of the shadows holding rope in his hands, “I am afraid that you will have to stay here,” his tone was oozing with condescension as he advanced toward Jeremiah.
Jeremiah was shorter than the other boys were, but he was broader and much stronger. They would not bind him without a fight.
“You are all despicable,” Jeremiah roared in anger as Zachariah moved in.
He pushed hard against Zachariah; shoved him back into the other men, and he bolted for the steps that led out of the cellar. Clement rebounded and sprung at Jeremia
h, but he was anticipating it and threw a handful of cellar dirt in Clement’s eyes. The boy stammered backward and Jeremiah kicked him hard in the stomach before he bounded up the steps.
He had almost reached the top step and was grasping for the doorknob, when two hands caught his ankles. It was Sutphin. He had maneuvered under the staircase, climbed up onto barrels that were stored underneath the stairs, and stuck his hands through the gap between the steps. The despicable pirate pulled Jeremiah's feet out from under him. Jeremiah flailed to steady himself, but Sutphin pulled even harder, causing the boy to lose his balance.
He tumbled backwards down the steps and a loud thud resonated throughout the dank cellar. The brave young man's body fell limp against the dirt floor, his head surrounded by a halo of dark red liquid. He was dead.
I awoke covered in sweat and screaming.
“What is it child?” Martha asked breathlessly. I had startled her out of sleep.
I tried to gather my thoughts, but even as I struggled to remember, the images were quickly fading away.
I shook my head, “I, I . . . cannot remember.”
“What was the dream about?” Martha pressed.
“I don't know,” I said through tears, “but it was horrible. I can still feel it. It was so sad and terrible. Martha, something bad has happened . . . I know it.”
Martha pet my hair, “Dear child, it was probably a dream of the Lenape girl. Please try to sleep. Tomorrow is an important day.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
December 18th 1734
Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins Page 21
