The Messenger: Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #1

by Pamela DuMond

  “Thank you.”

  “I need to teach you how to walk on this land.” He released me. “Each step you make is an imprint. Choose where you step, as well as how hard your body weight comes down.”

  I practiced choosing my steps until we approached, and stood too close to a cliff that overlooked a wide expanse of air. The view across it was another treacherous overhang with a choppy, white-watered river that lay hundreds of feet below.

  I flashed to Mama’s head smacking the windshield as we dangled between earth and sky. “You go ahead. I’ll stay here,” I said. No way was I moving an inch further onto that cliff.

  “Angeni said that if you made it this far, you could make it all the way. Scrape the bark from the tree next to the river, while I find the plants she wants.”

  “I’m happy to scrape the bark from any of those trees over there.” I pointed in the opposite direction of the cliff.

  “But…” He frowned.

  “I am not stepping one foot closer to that drop-off,” I said. “Heights are scary. People can fall and get seriously hurt.”

  “You just fell and I caught you.”

  “Not from a fall like that.” I pointed to the cliff’s precipice. “People lose their lives if they fall from that kind of height.” I backpedaled. “Don’t you get it? We’re not all strong and invincible. We are flesh and blood. People can disappear for good, forever. People you love will never be seen again. You will never share a meal, laugh about something silly, touch someone’s face, or even have a chance to tell them goodbye,” I said. “I’m not getting anywhere near that cliff.”

  “Whatever you say, Madeline. Whatever you want.” He walked off.

  I felt like I had ruined my perfect day. “Samuel, wait!” I took a few steps toward him.

  Samuel whipped around, his eyes scanned the forest, and he pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt. “Get down. Now.”

  Chapter 19

  I dropped to the ground, and crouched.

  Samuel peered at the forest behind me. “Show yourself.”

  Tobias popped out from behind a tree, about twenty yards away. “I did not want to move too suddenly,” he said. “I know, brother, that you do not like to be startled.”

  Samuel put the knife back. He held his hand out to me and helped me stand. “Why are you here?”

  I dusted the dirt off my skirt, and a wave of anxiety washed over me. I felt nervous, antsy. I’m not sure I cared why Tobias was here, because suddenly I didn’t want to be here.

  “Angeni sent me. She wants the mushrooms,” Tobias said. “She doesn’t want you and Abigail coming back a second time. Too dangerous.”

  Samuel frowned. “After I am done gathering the—”

  “Where are the mushrooms?” I asked, as my throat tightened. My anxiety was kicking in. Not good.

  “Close to the caves,” Tobias replied.

  Samuel shook his head.

  “How far away are the caves?” I asked.

  “Minutes,” Tobias said.

  “No,” Samuel said. “Abigail is not going to the caves.”

  “Any heights involved?” I watched Samuel’s face turn to stone.

  “Not like these cliffs,” Tobias said.

  “Let’s go.”

  “No! You wait here with me,” Samuel insisted. “Tobias can collect them on his own.”

  Samuel was dreamy, strong, and complicated. But right now he was one more person telling me what I could, or could not do. I glared at him. “Thank you for your concern. But I’m not going to sit around here and wait for a panic attack.” I walked toward Tobias.

  “I promise that I will not let her out of my sight,” Tobias said.

  “Be quick about it.”

  I could practically feel Samuel’s eyes pierce the back of my head like psychic daggers. Apparently, I hadn’t made him very happy today.

  * * *

  Tobias and I walked a safe distance away from the cliffs and the river deep below it. “Thank you for accompanying me,” he said.

  “I have to keep moving, or I’ll have a meltdown.”

  “Meltdown?”

  “Pressure, worries, old fears, you know?” I said and he nodded. But did he get it? Probably not. “How far away are the caves?”

  He pointed to a large mound of rocks a short distance in front of us. “Did Samuel tell you about what happened to him in that river below?”

  “No.”

  “He only shares that story with people he trusts,” Tobias said. “Still many tribal people and colonists know it. I’m surprised you do not.”

  Samuel didn’t trust me. Was I being too difficult? Again? “What happened to him?”

  Tobias shrugged. “I will tell you, only if you promise to give me something in return.”

  Like what? I didn’t have any money. Didn’t seem to have any luck. I’d happily hand him my corset, but I doubted he’d be into that. “I have nothing to give you.”

  “Of course you do,” he said. “You have secrets.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I totally knew what he was talking about.

  Tobias frowned. “Many colonists believe that Native babies have demons in them, so they created a test to determine which children were innocent. They stole the Native babies from their parents, and threw them in a river. The ‘pure’ babies would float. Those with the devil in their hearts would sink and drown.”

  I shook my head. “That’s definitely urban legend.”

  Tobias shook his head, confused. “When Samuel was six-months-old, his mother was forced to sail back to England without him. The colonists did not know if Samuel was a white baby or a Native baby,” Tobias said. “So they threw him in the waters of that river that rushes at the bottom of the cliffs below us. Then they watched to see whether he would sink or float.”

  “You’re lying!” I said. “The colonists would never be that cruel.”

  “You are indeed delusional if you think only one tribe of people is capable of cruelty.”

  “I still don’t believe you.” We approached the caves.

  “It does not matter what you believe. What matters is the truth. Now help me find the plants Angeni asked for.”

  I was sick to my stomach. Colonists drowning Native babies were too grisly to imagine. Did they still do this? Did Elizabeth know that they did this? My hands shook as I helped Tobias dig the mushrooms up from the earth.

  He collected them in a rough cloth sack.

  “You’re Native. Were you thrown in the river?”

  “No,” Tobias said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because my father is very powerful, and has strong alliances with the colonist leaders.”

  Samuel interrupted us and helped us finish all the digging, scraping, and collecting. We were all silent. The mood had turned sour.

  * * *

  The trip back to the garrison was completely different than the journey out. Samuel didn’t talk to me. He and Tobias shared a few words in their Wampanoag language. Frankly, they were both too serious, and I wanted to bolt far away from them to process everything I just heard.

  As soon as we were back inside the garrison’s gates, I thanked Samuel and Tobias coolly, and walked away from them as quickly as possible. I needed to talk with the only sensible person in this whole place: Angeni.

  * * *

  We sat next to each other in her hut while I helped her prepare the herbs to dry. “The colonists would never do something that awful.” I wrapped some plants with thick twine and hung them to dry on rough hooks snagged onto the ceiling. “They are not barbarians.”

  “For once Tobias spoke the truth,” she said.

  “It’s just not possible.”

  “I witnessed it, Madeline. A small group of colonists gathered on the shore. The Reverend Wilkins himself tossed Samuel into the waters.”

  My hand flew to my chest. “That’s awful!” My eyes welled. The thought of Samuel not being here because of the colonists’ cruel
and hateful superstitions—it made my head spin, and my heart sink. “I don’t believe for one second only “pure” babies floated. That’s insane. How did Samuel manage to live?”

  “A Messenger sent word to Samuel’s father about what the colonial radicals were planning. He traveled great distances to be there at that place and at that time. He appeared out of nowhere, jumped into the river, fought the currents, and rescued him. In the eyes of the colonists—Samuel floated for enough time that he was considered pure,” Angeni said.

  She knelt next to a bench covered in furs, reached underneath it, and pulled out some clothing. I saw buckskin pants and shirts. I saw a fierce necklace made of shells, bones, and white feathers.

  “His father took him until he was killed. Then the Wampanoag tribal elders and chief asked me if I would raise him,” Angeni said.

  “Why you?”

  “I was childless, but wanted to be a mother. And I knew since Samuel was very young, that he had a gift for healing. I could help teach him.”

  “But that must have completely changed your life?”

  She nodded. “It did. We didn’t completely fit in with either the Wampanoag people, or the colonists. We lived away from people, on the outskirts of Native villages and colonial settlements. When King Philip’s war broke out, Elizabeth and a few other friends insisted Samuel and I seek refuge, here, at the garrison.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “For everything the both of you have been through.”

  “Sometimes life requires you to make uncomfortable decisions. Do things you never expected. I have had much joy raising Samuel. Although he would never let me do something like this,” she said. “Come here.”

  I went to her.

  “Try this on.” She draped that gorgeous necklace over my head.

  “Is it for me?” I was dying to run and find a mirror, or anything shiny enough to see its reflection.

  Angeni patted it, and a look of contentment shone on her face.

  “No, Madeline. This is mine. It is part of my bloodline, my totem. I believe in time you will get your own symbol fitting for a Messenger.”

  “What is a Messenger?” I asked, looked around the room for anything reflective, as I had to see this necklace.

  Angeni handed me a metallic cup. I squinted at the necklace that adorned my neck. It was so fierce, and it made me feel brave and powerful.

  “Some souls are so close to the Great Spirit, that they can travel between time and worlds,” Angeni said. “Most of these people do not even realize they do this. They think they simply have colorful dreams, imaginary friends, or hear voices when no one is talking directly to them. Others accuse these folk of being impractical. Say they are too sensitive, nervous, or flighty in nature.”

  “That sounds like me,” I said.

  “It is you, Madeline. That is why I am training you.” Angeni kissed me on the cheek, gently took the necklace from me, and returned it under the bench.

  Everyone told me I was too sensitive, too much of a dreamer. Now, all those things I hated helped to make me a time traveler. “Why does the world need Messengers?” I asked.

  “Because there will always be superstitions, anger, dread, and fear of the other,” she said. “And some messages not only change lives but can save some. Time to check on Elizabeth. I did not tell her I sent you outside for the herbs. She only knows you were helping me.”

  “Oh. So, I shouldn’t tell her I left the garrison?”

  “You decide. She loves you, but she can be a little overprotective.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Someday you will feel the same way,” Angeni said. “And since you would not get close to the cliffs today, I want you to practice the Sa-Ta-Na-Ma chant. And do something that makes you feel a little scared. Messengers grow their courage like herbs in a garden. The seeds are planted. The soil watered, the leaves pinched as the plants grow. A Messenger’s skill and courage are not handed to them. They work for it.”

  “Okay,” I said a little embarrassed that I’d been slacking.

  I was half ways back to Elizabeth’s house when I realized: I saw Angeni before either Samuel or Tobias did. How in the world did she know I didn’t get near those cliffs?

  Chapter 20

  Over the next week, Elizabeth seemed to be doing better. The cramping stopped, her appetite picked up, and she slept like a stone. I wished I could say the same for myself.

  I went to the barn to practice the Sa-Ta-Na-Ma chant in private. I was surprised to see Nathan wasn’t there. I hoped he was okay. He had seemed to be getting better, too.

  I sat on the floor in a meditation position in front of Nathan’s stall, touched my fingers and chanted, “Sa. Ta. Na. Ma.” I thought about the words they translated to: Infinity. Life. Death. Rebirth.

  Were Samuel and I chasing each other’s souls through different lifetimes? What about the death and rebirth part? Had we been together in other lives? If so, how come I didn’t remember him, especially now that he wasn’t showing up at the barn today, and I already missed him?

  I kept hoping he would suddenly appear. Laugh at me. We could do some warriors, talk, and just hang out. But he never showed up that afternoon. Or the next day.

  A couple of days later, I took Abigail’s book and went down toward the pasture where Samuel had exercised Nathan. They weren’t there.

  I sat for a while, and paged through her book. Her handwriting was odd and there were little notes and scribbles. Nothing jumped out at me—maybe because I wasn’t really paying attention. I just wondered where Samuel was. Dusk arrived a little earlier, as autumn stretched its way toward winter. Since Elizabeth’s medical scare, I always left before it got dark.

  I asked Elizabeth if I needed to visit Angeni for more herbs or medicines. (Note to Self: invent better excuses to check on the guy you’re crushing on.) But she said everything was good. Her baby was growing. She felt big, bulky, but healthy. She just longed for Jebediah to come home.

  I practiced the Sa-Ta-Na-Ma chant at the barn, but I didn’t attempt anything new, or scary. It was bad enough that Samuel never joined me at all that week. Maybe he was mad at me, or tired of my anxiety, and all my ridiculous fears. I couldn’t really blame him. I think the chant was supposed to empty my mind, and raise my consciousness. But, how could I do that if every other thought on my brain was about Samuel?

  * * *

  I woke in the middle of the night from the clatter of rain pelting the roof. It seemed the heavens had opened, and rain fell sporadically the next day while Elizabeth taught school.

  When the bell in the town commons clanged almost as loudly as the siren on a fire truck, Elizabeth, the school kids, and I jumped. There was news.

  Elizabeth’s face turned white, and she bit her lip, but she held it together for the kids. “Children! School ends early today. We go to the commons and find your parents,” she said.

  “Grab you coats and your hornbooks. Don’t forget to practice your letters,” I said.

  “Easy for you to say,” Mary Smythe said. “You do not even talk like a proper, colonial lady.”

  “Whatever, kiddo.” I wrapped a scarf around Mary’s scrawny neck and whispered, “Don’t think because I’m putting up with you now, that I’ll be doing that in high school. Got it?”

  She frowned. “Got it.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth and I marched the kids down to the commons, and matched them all with their parents and guardians. The Reverend Wilkins was already preaching hell and damnation from the hanging platform above the ground as the crowd gathered tightly around him, anxiously waiting for the real news.

  The skinny courier finally interrupted the Reverend. This time his news wasn’t as good. There had been a battle in Hatfield, Massachusetts. It was bad, and it was brutal. Many folks, both Native and colonists, had been killed, and for the most part, Hatfield had been destroyed. The residents who survived, escaped to Springfield where the local colonists sheltered them.

  Gen
eral Jebediah and the garrison’s men caught some action. A few men were wounded. Worse—one killed. The Reverend and the courier had visited that soldier’s home, and informed his family before this public announcement.

  The crowd hushed as everyone glanced around to try and figure out who wasn’t there. Who had lost a husband, a father, a son? Who wouldn’t be coming home ever again? The women wrung their hands, their faces relaxing when they met glances of friends and neighbors. That son was spared. That husband would be coming home.

  The courier plowed ahead with the rest of his news. He looked exhausted, and I think he just wanted to get his job done. Patience Donaldson, the pastor’s wife who had been kidnapped was still in King Philip’s custody. Her release had not yet been negotiated, although rumor had it, she was still alive. Again, we were cautioned that King Philip was a monster. We must be on the lookout for his spies and avoid danger at all costs.

  The crowd dispersed, muttering amongst themselves. I saw Tobias walk off with the courier and Reverend Wilkins. He seemed to hang on their words. Angeni stood alone; Samuel had not accompanied her to the commons.

  “I’m going to walk Angeni home,” I told Elizabeth, knowing full well she could do that by herself. “If that’s okay by you?”

  “That is a good, kind deed that you do,” Elizabeth replied.

  “Thanks. I’m nice like that.” Especially when I had ulterior motives.

  * * *

  “You do not have to do this, Madeline,” Angeni said as I held her arm and guided her around some puddles, and muddy sinkholes, on the way back to her home.

  “Yes I do.” I definitely had to question her about Samuel’s whereabouts. In a kind and gentle fashion.

  “Have you practiced the chant since last I saw you?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Have you done anything a little scary or dangerous?”