Whispers From the Past

by L. S. O'Dea

  Verly looked up, her smile turning to a grimace. “Oh my dear girl, you’re a mess.”

  She was. Her clothes were filthy and so were her hands and face. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had time to—”

  “There’s a tub in the bathroom.” Verly pointed to one of the back rooms. “But don’t move until we get the last of the hot water in there for you.”

  Rocco entered the cabin, carrying a pail of water. He put it down by the fireplace and removed the pan from over the fire and took it into the other room. Then he bowed to her, his eyes traveling down her body, and left.

  “Go. Enjoy the bath. I have some lovely scented soaps in there. Help yourself. I’ll have a nice meal waiting for you when you get out and we can chat.”

  A bath sounded nice. She hadn’t had a real one since she’d left home. Cold dips in the river or lake were not a bath. She headed toward the room and stopped. “My clothes.” They were a bloody, muddy mess, but she had nothing else. She’d left her other set tucked in a corner of Jethro’s tent. His eyes, dark with desire invaded her memory. His lips moved across her body. She dug her claws into her palms. He’d deserved what she’d done. He’d been going to use her to capture Mirra, Gaar and Hugh, but a small sob escaped her lips at the memory of the hurt and betrayal in his eyes.

  “Nothing to cry about, dear. I have some clothes you can wear.” Verly stood, and laughed. “Can’t have you going around naked. You’re way too attractive for that.” She gave Trinity a slight shove and then looked at her hand in disgust. “You’ve already caught Rocco’s eye.”

  “Who?” She stopped in the doorway. “Oh, your Guard.”

  “Yes, the one who filled your tub and brought you food.”

  “I know. I just forgot his name for a minute.” She flushed. It was rude and he’d been kind to her.

  “Poor Rocco.” Verly smiled sadly. “His is not the first or the last heart you’ll break.” She gave Trinity another gentle push, closing the door behind her.

  The bathing room was small—nowhere for anyone to hide and ambush her. Trusting strangers wasn’t smart or easy. Although, most strangers had been kind to her. It was those she liked who betrayed her. She pulled off her clothes and sank into the tub, groaning as the hot water soaked into her body.

  The door opened and she covered her breasts with her hands, but it was only Verly’s arm. She was holding some clothes.

  “Is it safe to drop them here?”

  Her clothes were several feet away. “Yeah. Thank you.”

  Verly let go of the garments and closed the door.

  She picked up one of the many bars of soap. It smelled like lemons, like home, like her mother. Tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to crawl into her mom’s arms and never leave. She sniffed the soap. She shouldn’t use it. It wasn’t safe to smell like anything in the forest, but the scent would surely wear off before she had to leave. She wasn’t going anywhere until Mirra was ready to travel. She dipped the soap under the water and rubbed it onto a rag. She began scrubbing the dirt and grime from her body. She finished washing and sank further into the tub. She had no idea what the witch wanted from them or why she’d helped them, but she’d enjoy this moment. The rest would come soon enough.

  When the water was too cold to soak any longer, she stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel and drying off. She picked up the clothes. There were undergarments and a dress. It was pretty with a green and brown pattern, but it’d be a hindrance in the forest. She glanced at her clothes and wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t putting those back on until they were clean. She pulled the dress over her head and cinched it at her waist. The material was soft and light but it was short, barely coming to the middle of her thighs. She tugged, trying to pull the dress down, but it was no use. She’d wash her clothes tonight and they’d be ready tomorrow. She brushed her hair and left it loose. No reason to tie it back until she had to leave.

  She gathered her dirty clothes, holding them at arm’s length as she left the bathroom. Verly turned from the fireplace a smile on her face which turned to a frown when her eyes landed on the clothes.

  “Throw those out.”

  “I can’t. They’re all I have.” She walked to the door and put them outside on the step.

  “I’ll give you other clothes. Those stink of death and betrayal.”

  Her eyes flew to the Almighty but Verly had turned back to the fire and was stirring whatever was in the pot. Verly shouldn’t know anything about the betrayal. “Thank you for this dress, but it...it won’t be useful in the forest. I need my pants.”

  Verly spooned food into two dishes and carried them to the table. “Those clothes will be burnt. I’ll give you others.” Her eyes wandered up Trinity’s frame. “Hmm. My clothes are obviously too short for you.”

  Trinity flushed, her hands tugging at the dress.

  “I have some clothes around her somewhere that’ll fit you better.” Verly’s eyes clouded for a moment and then cleared as she smiled. “The males won’t find them as agreeable, but they’ll suit you better once you leave.” She waved at the table. “Sit. Eat.”

  At least she knew the Forest Witch wasn’t planning on trying to keep them here. Her stomach rumbled. The food smelled delicious. She sat. “I appreciate your offer but I can wash my clothes—”

  “I’ll find you something for the forest.” Verly patted her hand. “Those clothes”—she shook her head—“too much betrayal on those clothes. You can’t wash out such sorrow.”

  There was no way Verly knew about anything that’d happened between her and Jethro or her and Hugh. The Forest Witch had to be talking about Mirra’s babies but there’d been no betrayal there, only nature.

  “Eat before it gets cold.” Verly sat and began to eat. “I’m sure you’re starving. Your friend was earlier.”

  Travis, the big mouth, must’ve told Verly about their capture and what she’d done to Jethro. She needed to find out what he’d said before she started to believe Verly’s witch title was deserved.

  She took a bite of the stew. “This is really good.” It had tomatoes, onions, peppers and potatoes and it was rich and flavorful.

  “Herbs and salt do the trick.”

  She nodded as she stuffed food into her mouth, until she scraped along the dish for the last morsel. She pushed the bowl aside. “I don’t know what Travis told you about what happened—”

  “I haven’t spoken to him about it.” Verly poured tea into two mugs. “I prefer to get my information from the source.”

  “Then why did you say my clothes were full of betrayal? What betrayal are you talking about?”

  “That’s a good question. Which betrayal bothers you the most?” The blue of her eyes seemed to glow as she pushed a tea cup across the table. “Answer that and we may understand how your story will end.”

  “What do you mean my story?”

  “My dear, our stories are as old as the earth herself.” Verly sipped her tea. “Let me tell you my tale. I’ve spent my life hiding from the Almightys.”

  “You are an Almighty.” It was simple. The Forest Witch was crazy.

  “Yes, but I’m different than most. Those like me are killed at the first sign of our gifts, but most of the women on my mother’s side had the sight. My mother knew how to hide the gifts and she helped me to hide them when I was too young to know better. Like your mother helped you to hide your differences before you knew how.” Verly’s eyes bore into Trinity’s. “It’s a mother’s job to protect her young, especially when they’re different.”

  “My mother filed down my teeth and claws. Is that what your mother did to you?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her tone. Her mom loved Arthur’s fangs and claws. Mom praised his Servant abilities, but hers had been dirty secrets that had to be kept hidden.

  “So much pain and anger for one so young. That isn’t good. That’s what the gods want.” Verly leaned forward, her eyes growing hazy. “Your mother did what she had to do. You’ll understand that one day all too well.
”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  Verly blinked, her eyes becoming crystal blue again. She leaned back against her chair. “Do you know what having the sight means?”

  “You can see well?”

  Verly laughed. It was a tinkling, melodious sound, that made her smile and then she stopped. She wasn’t happy. This wasn’t a happy conversation.

  “You’re exactly right, in the simplest terms.” Verly’s face sobered. “I can see things that are, things that might be and things that will be.” She shrugged. “And sometimes things that never will be.”

  “Okay.” She’d been right before, this lady was crazy, but her instincts tingled, whispering that there was something more going on here, more than was natural. Mirra couldn’t heal fast enough. They needed to get off this island.

  “Some say, I can see the future.” Verly patted her hand. “Like your answer, that belief is correct in the simplest meaning. What most don’t understand is that whispers from the past cloud the present but the real story is always more than the legend. However, the new story doesn’t have to follow the same path. We have many futures awaiting us. It’s never clear until decisions are made which one we’ll choose.” She grasped Trinity’s hand and tipped her head as if listening to something. Her blue eyes lost focus and clouded to almost gray.

  Trinity tugged on her hand, but the witch’s grip was tight. Magic in books was fun but not in real life. Suddenly, Verly blinked, loosening her hold. Trinity snatched her hand away. Verly’s face was drawn and tight, making her look decades older.

  “What did you see? Was it about me? On the mainland you said you knew all about me. What do you know?” The questions rolled out of her without thought.

  “We’ll discuss that another day. You need to rest.” Verly stood, pulled a tincture out of her pocket and handed it to Trinity. “Give this to the Tracker. It’ll help her mend.”

  “Is what you’ve seen about me that bad?” Her hand trembled as she took the vial.

  “Everything is both good and bad. Get some rest.” Verly walked into one of the back rooms, shutting the door.

  That didn’t help at all but it didn’t matter what Verly had seen because she didn’t believe in magic. She believed in nature, but her instincts screamed for her to flee, so she did. She raced to the barn, to Mirra, and prayed they could leave before the Forest Witch poisoned her future with visions.

  CHAPTER 12: TRINITY

  TRINITY STOOD, TUGGING on her dress and trying to cover more of her legs as Rocco unlocked the cage. She needed other clothes, but she wasn’t in a hurry for another visit with the witch. She stroked a hand over Mirra’s head. “I’ll be back soon.” She followed Travis out of the enclosure.

  “I’m going to work in the fields again. You should come,” said Travis.

  “I can’t. I need to gather wood for spears and arrows and make another bow.” She needed to make a quiver to hold them too.

  “You can do that later. It’d be good for you to get back into the fields, back to the earth. It’ll take your mind off...things. They’d like to expand the gardens closer to the rocks, but the soil isn’t great in those areas. They could use your help with that.”

  She had no business in the fields. She’d never belonged there. “When we leave, we step back into war. Jethro is coming for me.” She headed out of the barn, Travis at her side and Rocco following.

  “I know, but Mirra won’t be well enough to travel for a while,” said Travis. “Come with me today and I’ll help you with the spears tomorrow.”

  This was where their paths would veer, his toward the fields and hers toward the forest. “I can’t.” She smiled. “Maybe, after I’m done making the weapons.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He turned and walked away.

  They both knew she’d never be done. She’d never have enough weapons. She headed toward the forest, Rocco still following her.

  “Were you ordered to watch me? I promise. I won’t kill anyone.”

  He laughed and quickened his pace to walk beside her. “Nah, I just thought you might like some help.”

  He was good looking, in his prime and his smile was friendly. Too bad she couldn’t fall for him. He seemed nice and she could live here in peace, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Hugh—his smile, his bossiness, his kisses. She refused to think about the days she’d spent with Jethro. He was nothing to her, except her enemy.

  They wandered through the woods gathering sticks of different sizes. Rocco knew this forest well and directed her to likely spots. Soon, they headed back to camp. She sat by the barn door so she’d be near when Mirra woke. She pulled out her knife and began whittling. Rocco sat next to her and did the same. He’d been a good companion, seeming to understand that she needed quiet. Now however, she was ready to talk. It was time to get some information.

  “What’s Verly’s story?” she asked.

  “I’m sure she’s told you what she wants you to know.” He glanced at her, amusement in his brown eyes.

  So much for trying to get him to tell tales. She should’ve known the Forest Witch’s Guard wouldn’t gossip. Flirting might help, but she couldn’t work up the energy. So, she’d change the direction of her questions. “Have you ever witnessed her visions coming true?”

  He stilled, his knife resting against the stick. “Yes. On several occasions.”

  “Can you tell me about them?” She didn’t want to believe in magic but all those tales told during long winter nights and days had wormed into her and had become a part of who she was. If magic were real then magical things could happen, good magical things.

  “You were the benefactor in one.”

  “What do you mean?” She stopped whittling.

  “We only leave this island for a reason. A good reason.”

  “You came to the mainland because of me?” Her hand trembled slightly and she put the stick down. “That’s impossible. How would Verly have known I was in trouble?”

  “She had a vision.” He tipped his head and gave her a look that said, “duh”.

  “Really?” She made her disbelief clear. He may be attractive but he was also annoying.

  “Yes, really. She had a vision the day before. She told us exactly where to dock the boat and then led us directly to you.”

  “I didn’t even know I’d be there the night before.”

  “But Verly did.”

  This was wandering into creepy territory. “Are her visions always right?”

  “She told you last night that she sees what might be, not necessarily what will be. A lot depends on who’s involved and the decisions they make.”

  “You were eavesdropping?” She hadn’t realized he’d been lurking around listening to their conversation and that was dangerous, deadly even.

  “My job is to protect Verly and”—his eyes roamed her frame, lingering on where her dress didn’t cover her legs—“you are not without your dangers.”

  She tugged on the hem of her dress and he grinned. “If she sees what could be, then it’s nothing more than a guess. I can guess at my own future.”

  “She doesn’t guess. She sees. Paths. Choices.” He nudged her arm with his shoulder. “Don’t forget, her last guess saved you and your friends.”

  “Well, I don’t want to know my future so the witch can keep it to herself.”

  His eyes narrowed and he turned back to whittling. She didn’t care that she’d offended him. She wanted to go home because there was a reason she was here. She could feel it in the very air and she didn’t want to find out what it was. She’d been ignorant of her future her whole life and she’d prefer to stay that way. The last time she’d set out to discover her fate, all this had happened. Sure, she was alive but her life was a mess. Part of her still wanted to ask Verly why she’d saved them, but she pushed down her curiosity. She didn’t want to know.

  They worked in silence for a long time and then he said, “I feel sorry for her.”

  “Why?” Her knife stalled. She h
adn’t expected him to say that.

  “The others,”—he glanced at her—“the ones who she has visions about, don’t like what she sees. Her visions are not usually of the fortunate kind.”

  “And she’s had visions about me.” The words slipped from her lips.

  He nodded, his eyes darkening with compassion and understanding.

  “What are they? She won’t tell me.” She touched his hand. “Please. I have a right to know.”

  “You said you didn’t want to know.”

  “I lied.” She hesitated. “No, I didn’t lie. I don’t want to know but I need to know.”

  “She’s had many about you over the years, but”—he squeezed her hand and then let it go—“I can’t tell you. She will. When it’s time.”

  “Hopefully, she does it before I leave.” She should’ve known he’d be no help at all.

  “I’m sure she won’t let you leave until she’s told you what she wants you to know.”

  He may believe she was trapped here, but he was wrong. As soon as Mirra was ready, she’d figure out some way to get off this island of visions that may or may not come true.

  CHAPTER 13: JETHRO

  WHEN JETHRO AWOKE it was dark. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust but they didn’t. They wouldn’t. He was weak now. It’d be days before he could see in the dark again. He sat up and something moved on the floor by the door.

  “You’re awake.” Indy stood up. “Figures. Your mother is going to kill you.”

  “My mom?” His mom couldn’t be here. She should be somewhere else, somewhere safe.

  “Yeah. We just convinced her to go to bed. She’s been at your side all night.”

  “What’s she doing here? Turn on the damn light.” He hated being at a disadvantage. The Guard could see him but he was blind in the dark.

  “You can see better than I can in the—”

  “Not right after my shot.”

  “Oh.” Indy flipped the switch. “Her and your sister arrived a little after Conguise left.”

  “You were supposed to tell them to hide.” He struggled to sit up but he dropped back down, exhausted.