not issue it again.”
“Wait!” I said when it looked as if Melba was coming back to herself.
“The Priestesses don’t want you here.” Melba’s voice and eyes had returned to normal. “And if they have a problem with you, then so do I.” With a look of regret fallen on her face, she pulled her hands out of the loosened grip I had on them. “You must leave. I’ll make the arraignments.”
elba knew more than she let on, I was certain of it. But there was no reasoning with her. So I stayed outside with Excalibur until bedtime. That night I spent dreamless, but also sleepless. And the next few days were hell, of a different kind. I worked at the gardens and the yard. Melba cooked my meals, but didn’t eat with me. Desiree hadn’t come back. And why would she? I had nothing to offer her, not even a given name. She was pretty—no, beautiful, and smart. Smart enough to know when to stay away. Life became meaningless.
On the third day since the nightmare and the Priestesses’ warning, a nagging feeling I’d been having won over. With Excalibur in tow, I headed upstream. Not until I passed my bathing spot did I feel the pull become so prominent. I couldn’t turn back if I wanted to. Something invisible lured me through the dense bush, in the direction of the fishing spot, the place I’d felt unseen eyes watching me. Maybe it was the Priestesses, or maybe it was the ghost of Rasmus Smith watching over his property, or maybe the evil spirit of Solomon himself; whichever, I was hell-bound to the fishing hole and beyond.
When we reached our destination, Excalibur refused to go farther. With his head hung low, bobbing, he snorted and pawed at the mossy ground, clearly agitated. Behind him, a gray mist lay on the river, adding to the eerie feeling surrounding the area. I turned from him and looked into the dark woods beyond. Something Melba said during one of our mealtime conversations a while back surfaced in my mind. “Animals have psychic abilities. They can sense danger where we can’t.” A sixth sense, she’d called it. I took a step away from the river, toward the wide tree trunks, and then looked back at the horse.
“You stay here. I won’t go far.”
He stilled his swishing tail, one big eye fixed on me.
As I stepped out of the morning light at the riverside and into the dank gloom of the thick forest, my nerves came alive, prickling against my skin, warning me to turn back.
The T-shirt I wore was of little defense against the chill that fell over me under the canopy of thick tree branches, blocking out all but a shaft of light here and there. After I was about ten minutes inside the network of thick tree trunks, I noticed an uncomfortable calmness around me. The sounds of the flowing river and the chirping birds had stopped. My heavy footfalls shuffling against the forest floor debris were the only thing I heard now. The odor of the composting leaves lifted as my feet churned them, making me wonder if anyone else had ever taken this invisible path. Now that I was deeper in, I felt as if I wasn’t alone. Somewhere, someone, or something, followed me, waited for me. I glanced over my shoulder, regretting leaving the yard work. Behind me looked the same as in front. The forest had swallowed me completely.
I walked onward, until up ahead, a spot slightly brighter than the rest of the forest came into view. My breath grew louder as I rushed to it, hoping that I’d gotten turned around and now headed back to the riverside. But the tree branches here supported heavy gobs of moss. The only other place I’d seen this was at the plantation, and according to the view in my nightmare, this place was far from the plantation house, and very close to where the slave quarters had been.
I parted the moss in places, and ducked under in others, until I came to the source of the light. Sunbeams filtered through the branches, creating a wide circular curtain around the darkest part of the forest, as if on
“Wait!” I said when it looked as if Melba was coming back to herself.
“The Priestesses don’t want you here.” Melba’s voice and eyes had returned to normal. “And if they have a problem with you, then so do I.” With a look of regret fallen on her face, she pulled her hands out of the loosened grip I had on them. “You must leave. I’ll make the arraignments.”
elba knew more than she let on, I was certain of it. But there was no reasoning with her. So I stayed outside with Excalibur until bedtime. That night I spent dreamless, but also sleepless. And the next few days were hell, of a different kind. I worked at the gardens and the yard. Melba cooked my meals, but didn’t eat with me. Desiree hadn’t come back. And why would she? I had nothing to offer her, not even a given name. She was pretty—no, beautiful, and smart. Smart enough to know when to stay away. Life became meaningless.
On the third day since the nightmare and the Priestesses’ warning, a nagging feeling I’d been having won over. With Excalibur in tow, I headed upstream. Not until I passed my bathing spot did I feel the pull become so prominent. I couldn’t turn back if I wanted to. Something invisible lured me through the dense bush, in the direction of the fishing spot, the place I’d felt unseen eyes watching me. Maybe it was the Priestesses, or maybe it was the ghost of Rasmus Smith watching over his property, or maybe the evil spirit of Solomon himself; whichever, I was hell-bound to the fishing hole and beyond.
When we reached our destination, Excalibur refused to go farther. With his head hung low, bobbing, he snorted and pawed at the mossy ground, clearly agitated. Behind him, a gray mist lay on the river, adding to the eerie feeling surrounding the area. I turned from him and looked into the dark woods beyond. Something Melba said during one of our mealtime conversations a while back surfaced in my mind. “Animals have psychic abilities. They can sense danger where we can’t.” A sixth sense, she’d called it. I took a step away from the river, toward the wide tree trunks, and then looked back at the horse.
“You stay here. I won’t go far.”
He stilled his swishing tail, one big eye fixed on me.
As I stepped out of the morning light at the riverside and into the dank gloom of the thick forest, my nerves came alive, prickling against my skin, warning me to turn back.
The T-shirt I wore was of little defense against the chill that fell over me under the canopy of thick tree branches, blocking out all but a shaft of light here and there. After I was about ten minutes inside the network of thick tree trunks, I noticed an uncomfortable calmness around me. The sounds of the flowing river and the chirping birds had stopped. My heavy footfalls shuffling against the forest floor debris were the only thing I heard now. The odor of the composting leaves lifted as my feet churned them, making me wonder if anyone else had ever taken this invisible path. Now that I was deeper in, I felt as if I wasn’t alone. Somewhere, someone, or something, followed me, waited for me. I glanced over my shoulder, regretting leaving the yard work. Behind me looked the same as in front. The forest had swallowed me completely.
I walked onward, until up ahead, a spot slightly brighter than the rest of the forest came into view. My breath grew louder as I rushed to it, hoping that I’d gotten turned around and now headed back to the riverside. But the tree branches here supported heavy gobs of moss. The only other place I’d seen this was at the plantation, and according to the view in my nightmare, this place was far from the plantation house, and very close to where the slave quarters had been.
I parted the moss in places, and ducked under in others, until I came to the source of the light. Sunbeams filtered through the branches, creating a wide circular curtain around the darkest part of the forest, as if on
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