Another title, The Immortal Encounter, recounted the time he started hustling in Blackpool. It went on about how he’d stolen from the vampire, Robin of Locksley. However, the name of the vampire was changed, as well as the location of the house Pierce broke into on the night he took the coin from the thirty pieces of silver.
The other novels, such as Fate, described how he’d tried stealing the necklace from Queen Victoria, and how he’d been roped into a mission to find his old friend, Indigo Peachtree, who owned the secret to capturing the Fates. Again, some names were changed.
His Cursed Blood recounted the story of when Pierce, Taisia, and Joaquin traveled to Edinburgh in search of the demon whose blood was inside Joaquin at the time. In that novel, there were daguerreotypes of Joaquin. Photographs of Pierce and Taisia were included in the story titled Power Found, which was about their journey through the Netherlands.
They were the same daguerreotypes taken in Birmingham when they had visited the Industrial clothing designer, Tilly Lincoln. The same photographs Pierce had hanging on his bedroom wall. In the book, the daguerreotypes of him and Taisia were stuck together by a bit of candle wax that Nico claimed to have accidentally spilt.
His Cursed Blood concluded with his and Taisia’s wonderful wedding, the death of his brother, and their departure from England. Thankfully, there was no mention of where they had gone, only a statement that Pierce Landcross had left Europe to start a new life with his family. The stories, for the most part, were spot on, with only some minor discrepancies. Regardless, the novels surprised him to no end.
Whoever this Jessamine Fairchild was, she had somehow gathered adequate details about him in order to tell nearly every inch of his life story, and yet she had the decency to conceal the right people’s identities.
As he read Power Found, the world he was in faded away like the colors at the ends of a rainbow.
For a moment, he feared another vision was coming. Instead, he was having one of his shredded memories. They came to him now and then, showing him flashes of things he never remembered experiencing before. They’d started years ago, when he was only twenty-four, but he had no idea what they meant, for he’d forget about them almost as quickly as they occurred.
In this flash remembrance, he was sitting in a room beside a lamp with a colorful glass shade, looking at the daguerreotype of Taisia. The paper was badly torn and barely showed her image. His thumb slid over her faded picture fondly.
Pierce snapped out of it.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he said.
He grabbed a fountain pen off Nico’s writing desk and flipped to the back cover. On it, he wrote:
Pierce, if you are reading this, no worries. We made it out.
Pierce didn’t know why he wrote it, or exactly what it meant. It seemed, though, that he had seen this written before in some other time and place.
* * *
At the marketplace, Nico bought two sheep and a cow, along with some other supplies he and his crew needed. Apparently, the lad had saved up enough loot to cover his arse throughout his travels and then some. Unable to bring the cow onto the boat, Pierce suggested that Nico ferry the sheep over to his home where Pierce would meet him. After telling him where it was, Pierce headed back alone, leading the animal by a rope lassoed loosely around its neck.
The late afternoon sky was deep blue with fat, fluffy clouds looming overhead. As Pierce and the cow walked over the sandy beach, the sand beneath his feet became damp grass. The air temperature dropped significantly and to the point where Pierce saw his own breath. The sea vanished into an open field surrounded by tall trees with brightly colored fall leaves. The sky turned grey, and chilly drizzle sprinkled down. Pierce stopped and shuddered as a crisp wind blew over him and the cow that had entered this other place along with him.
“Not again,” he muttered.
The sound of howling came from the woods on the other side of the field. A man soon rushed out and ran straight toward Pierce. As he got closer, Pierce clearly saw who the man was.
“Robert?”
Robert Blackbird ran as if his life depended on it. In fact, his life did depend on it, for hounds were chasing after him. The dogs broke through the forest’s edge, charging after Robert, barking and snapping their jaws.
“Robert!” Pierce called out just as a pair of horsemen with scarves over their faces emerged.
They rode after the dogs and Robert. By then, Robert was closing the gap between himself and Pierce. His look of panic was obvious. The horsemen, whom Pierce reckoned were bounty hunters, halted their horses to aim their rifles on Robert. The dogs were nearly at his heels by then. One hound leaped onto Robert, bringing him down. Robert struggled with both canines as they chewed into him. He staggered to his feet only to be shot in the back by the horsemen.
“Robert!” Pierce screamed, abandoning the cow and running toward his old friend.
As Pierce got closer, the ground beneath him liquefied and splashed up, obscuring his view. Pierce stopped. He now stood in waist-deep water. The endless ocean lay before him.
“Bloody hell,” he said, raking his hands through his hair. “I think I’m going mad.”
Something touched his fingers, and when he pulled his hand away, he found an autumn leaf.
Chapter Four
Are They Real?
After witnessing his friend’s death, Pierce sat for a long time on the beach, collecting himself. What he saw and felt had been just as real as his vision of the Sea Warriors. He studied the foreign leaf, which had come with him when he’d returned. An elm leaf. The weather seldom changed on the islands, except on the higher mountain peaks, where it got cold enough for snow. For the most part, the months rolled on without much change. If it weren’t for the calendars Pierce had obtained at the marketplace to keep up with birthdays and holidays, he’d most likely have lost track of the seasons altogether. Judging by the bright redness of the leaf, he estimated that it had changed color during October or early November. It was only mid-July, which meant the visions weren’t from the present. Grandmother Fey had suggested he dismiss the first vision, and that it was only a trick, but she hadn’t seen it as he had. Were these mere apparitions in the attic of his mind or actual predictions? What was it she wasn’t telling him?
When Pierce returned home, he was in utter ruins. It didn’t help that so many people were waiting for him when he got there.
His wife came up to greet him.
“Nico is here. He explained to us about everything that happened today.”
“Grand,” he said weakly.
“Chtoeto?” she asked, noticing his grim expression.
He was unsure as to whether he should say anything or not. He’d never mentioned the first vision to anyone but Grandmother Fey. Since she’d instructed him to ignore it, Pierce had decided to spare his wife the worry.
“Pierce,” she urged. “What is wrong?”
He huffed. “When I was returning, I . . .”
“Pierce!” Nico yelled, rushing toward them.
“I’ll tell you later,” he quickly told Taisia.
“There you are,” beamed his cousin. “The tribesmen are here to collect the animals.”
“Aye. Right.”
He walked on with the cow that thankfully hadn’t wandered off when he went running into the ocean like a madman.
Pierce was so engrossed in his worries that he completely forgot about the boars he’d promised until he saw one being rotisseried over the fire pit. Tai Choy stood proudly with a pile of them lying dead behind him.
“I killed an extra for us,” Tai declared as Pierce handed the cow’s rope over to Kale, standing next to the Pākē.
“Marvelous,” he responded softly.
Kale gripped Pierce’s forearm and shook it. “Your payment has been met, Landcross. A hui hou.”
Pierce nodded. “A hui hou.”
As the tribesmen left with the animals, Grandmother Fey rushed up to him excitedly. “Isn’t it wonderful? Nic
o is here!”
Pierce fixed a smile on his face. She seemed so happy to see her grandson again. He didn’t want to drown her in his sorrows.
Family and friends gathered at the house for dinner and filled their stomachs with pork, lobster, and fruits. Nico offered wine he’d brought over from another island. Everyone was in good cheer except Pierce. The smell of the food, the wonderful company, and even the beautiful atmosphere could not lift his heavy mood.
As evening settled in, Nico’s crew built a bonfire on the beach. Pierce stood by it, holding a nearly empty bottle that he was drinking himself. He enjoyed the bright, swirling colors in the fire while listening to his father play his violin.
A hand engulfed his.
“You look drunk,” Taisia commented.
“’Cause I am,” he admitted, resting his head against hers.
“You wanted to tell me something earlier?”
He hadn’t forgotten. No amount of wine could wash away the memory of what he’d witnessed.
“Aye. Let’s go for a walk, eh?”
“Let’s go for a walk” was code for going to the sand dunes. The dunes were a nice secluded spot that only Pierce and Taisia visited. It was their little secret area. Out there, they spoke of many things, had made love countless times, and had most likely conceived Lydia there. It was where they could sit quietly together, and if the family kept the children overnight, they would stay and watch the sunrise. For the couple, it was their special place.
They sat on their usual dune, a cozy spot where they could lean back into the short, sandy hillside overlooking the ocean. The sky had turned purple as the sun sank into the west behind them. The crescent moon hung overhead. Once Pierce was settled comfortably into the sand, he let out a long sigh.
“What happened today?” Taisia asked.
He rolled his head over to her. “Christ, I love your accent,” he uttered stupidly. “Say . . . cumbersome.”
“What?”
“Cumbersome,” he repeated. “I don’t particularly care for the word itself, but it sounds magnificent coming from you.”
“Pierce Landcross,” she scorned him, slapping him on the arm. “You are drunk. There is something on your mind. Tell me.”
“Say it.”
“Pierce,” she said sternly.
“Say it.”
She huffed. “No.”
“Saaaaay it,” he coaxed.
Realizing she wouldn’t get anything out of him until she did, Taisia sighed. “Cumbersome.”
He grinned drunkenly and hummed with his eyes closed. “Hmmm, thank you.”
He leaned in to kiss her, but she placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Pierce.”
Her stern tone sobered him up a tad.
“You’re right.” He looked away and bowed his head while clutching at his hair. “I’ve had visions.”
“Visions? What sort of visions?”
“I was heading home from the falls when I suddenly stepped into another part of the world. Chief Sea Wind and his crew were there.”
“You saw the Sea Warriors?”
“They were in chains.” He eyed her. “They were imprisoned.” He returned his focus to the sea. “Today, I saw my mate Robert get gunned down before my eyes.” He brought out the leaf he had tucked away inside the pocket of his slacks. “This came back with me.”
Taisia took it, looking at it perplexingly.
“An elm leaf,” he explained. “Last I checked, elm trees don’t grow around here.”
She examined the red leaf while he studied the changes in her expression. She was becoming cross and looked up at him. “It’s that witch, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
“And do you think these visions are real?”
“They seem so. As real as me sitting here with you.”
“I didn’t ask if they appeared real. I’m sure they did. I am asking if you believe they’re actual predictions.”
Grandmother Fey had explained how the future could never be precisely foretold because it was always changing. One could only see the different pathways of what might happen. If that were true, then there was a chance that what Pierce had witnessed was only a potential path.
He was about to say all this, but in his drunken state, formulating so many words had become a challenge.
“It’s possible,” he instead answered.
His wife pulled him toward her and the two leaned against the sand. She stroked his long, knotted hair while his head rested peacefully between her breasts.
“Possible, but not certain,” she said. “And there is no way for you to know unless you leave. Leave us.”
Pierce groaned dolefully.
“Your place is here with us, my husband. My love. Now and forever.”
Taisia was right. If they were actual events, and the visions were true predictions, what could he do about it? His place was with his family, who needed him. How could he consider leaving?
He relaxed into her loving embrace and they stayed that way until Pierce fell asleep.
The sound of screaming got Pierce snapping his eyelids open. He sat up and brushed hay off his cheek.
“Fuckin’ hell?” he gasped, wondering where the hay had come from.
He noticed hardwood flooring that was barely visible through the dim light of gas lanterns glowing from somewhere. Pierce sat up. He was inside a jail cell, and with him were most of the Sea Warriors, including Chief Sea Wind. They were standing by a dividing wall that was half wood and half bars, yelling at someone on the other side. To see what the ruckus was about, he needed to stand.
He approached the wall. Waves of Strength, Sees Beyond, Heals with Nature, and a few other female members of the crew had been segregated from the rest of the crew. White men, some wearing the vigilante red bands around their arms and others with badges, were in their cell, grabbing them and tearing off their clothing as the male members of the crew watched helplessly. Waves of Strength fought off a man about to mount a young woman, but another man grabbed her and threw her to the ground. When she tried standing, she was struck across the face.
“Stay down, Injun!” a lawman shouted in an American accent. “I’m gonna give it to you good, savage whore!”
The sounds of the women screaming and the crewmen hollering in the other cell were deafening. Pierce was horrified by the brutality. He shook the bars, yelling for these cockers to let the women be. They ignored him just as they disregarded the others. Sees Beyond was thrown face first against the bars in front of Pierce and held there while her clothes were ripped off.
“Sees,” Pierce said, frightened.
She shouted and tried fighting back, but they only pressed her harder against the bars.
“Leave her alone, you bastards!” Pierce screamed at the top of his lungs.
Her eyes found his. They were wide and terrified as she slowly came to terms with what was about to happen to her. It was a heart-wrenching moment to watch. He reached up to touch her cheek when First Mate Wind in the Sails pushed him away. The impact was hard enough to knock him against the corner of the cell. Wind in the Sails pressed his forehead against Sees Beyond’s, whispering comforting things to her.
“This is what we do to slave thieves ’ere in Nahlans!” mocked a chubby man wearing a badge who stood on the other side of the men’s cell door.
Chief Sea Wind rushed over and reached through the bars, grabbed the bastard by the collar, and slamming his forehead against them. The knobhead staggered backward and fell to the floor. The others hurried over.
“Get ’im!” the wounded lawman yelled as his fellows helped him to his feet.
The lawmen unlocked the cell door and poured in with clubs and began beating the prisoners. Pierce rushed at one of them as he raised a club to strike Chief Sea Wind. The club ended up clocking Pierce across the temple, sending him straight to the floor. The stomping of footsteps pounded all around him. Chief Sea Wind fell next to him. His skull was completely split open, blood and brain frag
ments pooling quickly over the floor.
Pierce yelled and sat up.
“What is it?” Taisia asked when Pierce’s sudden movement brought her out of her own sleep.
He breathed heavily as he glanced around at his surroundings. He was at the dunes, safe and with his wife. Morning light had barely touched the sky. The soothing sounds of waves had replaced the screams of terror.
“Pierce?”
He turned to Taisia, his heart kicking hard against his ribs. His skin was soaked with icy sweat.
Taisia studied him and became concerned. “What’s wrong? You’re very pale.”
He had no doubt that what he’d seen had drained the color from him.
“I . . . I . . .” he began saying.
“Pierce,” she cut in with alarm, “you’re bleeding!”
Warm liquid slid down the side of his neck, over the puncture scars Robin had given him the night he nearly made him a vampire. Pierce touched a sore spot at his hairline and spied blood on his fingertips.
Taisia examined him. “What happened?”
He was unable to answer her and just shook his head. Taisia embraced him tightly, yet no matter how strongly she held him, it did not steady his shakiness.
The bloody graphics stayed very much with him as he and Taisia returned home. Nico’s crewmen were asleep on the beach near where the fire had been burning. The children were outside playing with their grandparents. No one noticed as Pierce and his wife went to his grandmother’s hut.
“Qu’est ce qui’il ne va pas?” she asked when she answered the door.
Inside the hut, Pierce explained what had happened.
“I told you to ignore them,” his grandmother said. “They’re only tricks.”
“You haven’t seen them,” he argued. “In the recent vision I had this morning, there was a fight, and I woke with my head bleeding. When I’m experiencing these visions, it’s as if I’m really there.”
Grandmother Fey stared at him grimly.
“Ask Tai,” he went on.
Taisia looked at her gravely. “He was ill.”
“Ill” only covered a portion of what he felt. The look on Sees Beyond’s face as those monsters tore off her clothes and the sight of the chief’s skull cracking completely open had wrenched Pierce’s stomach so much he had retched on the way back. If Taisia had not been there to calm him, he might have had a mental breakdown.
The Forgotten Story Page 4
