purpose and not by nature.
Cautiously, I stepped through the veil of light, stopping cold at the fringes of the dark area, when I saw a line of red dust along the ground inside the circle; in this instance, a barrier to keep evil in. Melba’s teachings, over her delicious meals, had taught me what the crushed brick was used for. This line was bright and fresh. It must have been topped off recently, but by who? And why? .Although the treetops barely covered the area here, darkness prevailed over what I knew were the remains of the true Solomon Brandt.
Followed by a quick wave of nausea, the vision of his torturous death came into view, but this time, unlike in the nightmare, I had a front row seat as part of the crowd. I felt the fire blaze behind me, burning my back. I had to keep moving, along with the other slaves, chanting, throwing handfuls of mud on the naked body writhing on the ground in front of me. When I reached Solomon’s left side, his head fell toward me. His squinted eyes burst open. The blue turned to flames. He reached a clawed hand out to me, hooking a fingernail on the bottom of my jeans. I stumbled, and fell onto the red powder.
Like a fast awakening, the scene changed again. Just me now, I pushed myself up off the ground. Everything looked as it did when I’d first entered the circle, all except for one thing.
The red line was broken.
My heart pounded against my ribs as I shuffled to fix the gaps my fallen body had made, but when a dark shadow crept from the center of the clearing toward me, I abandoned the task and ran. I didn’t know what direction I took, but I yelled for Excalibur as I made my way through the forest, slamming against tree trunks, stumbling over massive roots that lay along the ground in places. I only looked back once, to see the shadow still following, swallowing everything in its path.
Just when I thought I would never see the light of day again, the white stallion burst from behind a tree. He came straight toward me, but galloped past me. Despite the shadow not far behind, I stopped in my tracks, confused and nervous, wondering why the horse kept going. Then he circled the next tree and doubled back. I caught on to his actions. When he reached me, I ran beside him, grabbed his mane, and hauled myself up. It was the first time I’d ridden him since the day he’d brought me to Melba’s, but it felt like just yesterday. I lay low across his back and neck to avoid the tree branches, and let the stallion carry me away.
A few minutes later, we burst into the light and a newer part of the forest, where the trees where spindly and fallen sticks and branches littered the ground. Was this a shortcut back to the river? Excalibur dropped into a fast trot, and I straightened, in some instances becoming taller than the stunted trees. Soon after, a settlement of shabby dwellings came into view.
We broke out of the woods and into a backyard. Behind us, the shadow ceased its pursuit, and then retreated.
Excalibur wove his way through the area, littered with broken-down cars, stacks of tires, and car parts. Crossed sticks, woven together with colored threads, hung from everything: clotheslines, tree branches, corners of buildings. Some had small skull shapes fastened to their centers; tiny bones hung from others. Melba had something like this hanging in an apple tree in her yard. When I’d asked her about it, she’d said it was a ward against evil, but wouldn’t elaborate further.
Two young men with skin as dark as the people in my nightmare lifted their heads from under the hood of a car and flashed me silent glares of foreboding. I watched with unease as their gazes followed me until I was too far past to see them anymore.
The horse led me between two rundown dwellings and into the front yard of one. A woman burst out of the front door. Tight black curls stuck out beneath a multicolored scarf she wore around her head. Grabbing something tied around her neck, she looked at me
Cautiously, I stepped through the veil of light, stopping cold at the fringes of the dark area, when I saw a line of red dust along the ground inside the circle; in this instance, a barrier to keep evil in. Melba’s teachings, over her delicious meals, had taught me what the crushed brick was used for. This line was bright and fresh. It must have been topped off recently, but by who? And why? .Although the treetops barely covered the area here, darkness prevailed over what I knew were the remains of the true Solomon Brandt.
Followed by a quick wave of nausea, the vision of his torturous death came into view, but this time, unlike in the nightmare, I had a front row seat as part of the crowd. I felt the fire blaze behind me, burning my back. I had to keep moving, along with the other slaves, chanting, throwing handfuls of mud on the naked body writhing on the ground in front of me. When I reached Solomon’s left side, his head fell toward me. His squinted eyes burst open. The blue turned to flames. He reached a clawed hand out to me, hooking a fingernail on the bottom of my jeans. I stumbled, and fell onto the red powder.
Like a fast awakening, the scene changed again. Just me now, I pushed myself up off the ground. Everything looked as it did when I’d first entered the circle, all except for one thing.
The red line was broken.
My heart pounded against my ribs as I shuffled to fix the gaps my fallen body had made, but when a dark shadow crept from the center of the clearing toward me, I abandoned the task and ran. I didn’t know what direction I took, but I yelled for Excalibur as I made my way through the forest, slamming against tree trunks, stumbling over massive roots that lay along the ground in places. I only looked back once, to see the shadow still following, swallowing everything in its path.
Just when I thought I would never see the light of day again, the white stallion burst from behind a tree. He came straight toward me, but galloped past me. Despite the shadow not far behind, I stopped in my tracks, confused and nervous, wondering why the horse kept going. Then he circled the next tree and doubled back. I caught on to his actions. When he reached me, I ran beside him, grabbed his mane, and hauled myself up. It was the first time I’d ridden him since the day he’d brought me to Melba’s, but it felt like just yesterday. I lay low across his back and neck to avoid the tree branches, and let the stallion carry me away.
A few minutes later, we burst into the light and a newer part of the forest, where the trees where spindly and fallen sticks and branches littered the ground. Was this a shortcut back to the river? Excalibur dropped into a fast trot, and I straightened, in some instances becoming taller than the stunted trees. Soon after, a settlement of shabby dwellings came into view.
We broke out of the woods and into a backyard. Behind us, the shadow ceased its pursuit, and then retreated.
Excalibur wove his way through the area, littered with broken-down cars, stacks of tires, and car parts. Crossed sticks, woven together with colored threads, hung from everything: clotheslines, tree branches, corners of buildings. Some had small skull shapes fastened to their centers; tiny bones hung from others. Melba had something like this hanging in an apple tree in her yard. When I’d asked her about it, she’d said it was a ward against evil, but wouldn’t elaborate further.
Two young men with skin as dark as the people in my nightmare lifted their heads from under the hood of a car and flashed me silent glares of foreboding. I watched with unease as their gazes followed me until I was too far past to see them anymore.
The horse led me between two rundown dwellings and into the front yard of one. A woman burst out of the front door. Tight black curls stuck out beneath a multicolored scarf she wore around her head. Grabbing something tied around her neck, she looked at me
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