“Why do you think they were my parents?”
“The female was pregnant, and this happened about thirty years ago. They also never located the body of the male slave, just that of a wolf.”
Penny nodded, saddened once more, and now more curious than ever about her parents. She would speak to Old Ma tomorrow.
“What are you going to do about Ryder?” she heard herself ask.
“Kill him, eventually,” Leon replied. Penny didn’t even bat an eyelash, and a little smile touched his lips. “For now, I need to know who else he’s told.”
Penny nodded and swallowed. The chill had left her, and was replaced by a dull numbness.
She didn’t feel Leon move, but she felt him moving her, pulling her into his solid warmth. Stroking her face. Removing her head scarf, and gently smoothing out her hair. His hands slipped to her neck, massaged the tension there, and then they were moving again. He undressed her and laid her out on the bed before pulling her into the comfort of his body.
Penny didn’t know how many minutes passed with them like that but she finally whispered, anger and pain evident in her voice, “What kind of man shoots a pregnant woman?”
“A bastard,” Leon replied angrily, his voice low. “A dishonorable, heartless, cowardly bastard.”
Although she didn’t reply, she agreed wholeheartedly.
***
It took almost a week to reach his plantation in Virginia and during that time, Armand was mostly on edge. They traveled during the day and rested wherever they could find decent lodging at nights. They were only stopped once, and when they provided the fake identification papers, as well as the letters of sale for the slaves, they were sent on their way.
But that wasn’t what kept him on edge.
Julia seemed to occupy every other thought, and when he wasn’t thinking of strategic ways to get the slaves north with the least risk of being caught, he was thinking of her. He watched her like a hawk, and if she noticed, she gave no indication. On their journey, she always sat apart from the others and he wasn’t sure if was some sort of self-segregation of the parts of the field and house slaves, or if she just wanted to be alone. In the days they traveled, she never spoke. He was watching, listening close enough to have heard if she did. She only remained silent, with her head down and her eyes on her hands.
Even her thoughts were mostly silent. He knew some things from them, but not enough. She missed her sister and wondered how she was coping without her. She also thought of how to get her sister to her. She didn’t seem to care where she was going, or if she was going to like it. Her only—and few—thoughts revolved around her sister.
When they arrived at the plantation, which was not as large as Leon’s but served its purpose, he and Étienne immediately unshackled the slaves. They led them to the two empty slave quarters to the side of the plantation house and explained that they could choose where they wanted to sleep. Armand always made sure to have the slaves in Virginia for a few days before moving them north. It helped with lowering suspicions and during that time, he could explain to them the real reason they were in Virginia. All but Julia seemed surprised at having a choice, before they rushed to form two groups of five.
Julia was moving to the group nearest to her when he spoke firmly. “Julia—you’s stayin’ in the house.”
Her back stiffened, and he slipped into her mind to hear her thoughts. She didn’t want to stay in the slave quarters or in the plantation house. She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be hurt and they would all hurt her. So much hurt.
She turned and looked at him, gray eyes pleading. Don’ hurt me.
The thought came quick and then she lowered those eyes. Her body seemed to collapse in on itself before she shuffled closer to him.
Étienne nudged him, and Armand realized he was staring at her. Turning his attention from Julia, whose pain was overwhelming him, he told the slaves to get accustomed to their new home, told them that the “Master” was on vacation, but that he was fair and as long as they did work, they’d be treated properly. Étienne watched and listened; learned. He would be doing this by himself soon.
Once finished, he led Étienne and Julia into the house, and to the kitchen. Maud was there, one of his shirts in her hands as she mended a tear.
“Massa,” she murmured upon seeing him, a smile curving her lips. Julia’s head whipped around, expecting another, but finding only him and Étienne.
“Maud, this is Julia. She’ll be staying with you for a few days,” he told the older woman who’d faithfully stayed on although he’d offered numerous times to carry her north. She also insisted on calling him “Massa” because, as she liked to say, “Jus’ so I don’ slip up in fron’ o’ nobody.” “I want you to see that she’s comfortable and knows her way around the plantation.”
Julia’s eyes widened, probably at his sudden change in dialect. She stared at him like he was a new person, blinking and then blinking again. Armand didn’t have to enter her mind to know she was confused and terrified.
“Yes, Massa,” Maud murmured immediately, pushing herself up from the padded chair. “You come wit’ old Maud, and le’ me show you ’round this plantation ’ere.”
Armand watched the older woman lead her through the door to the side of the kitchen. Twice, she looked over her shoulder at him, and twice he gave her a reassuring smile. The door closed softly.
“Will you mate her?” Étienne asked, moving forward and lifting the lid of a pot that contained porridge. He grabbed a bowl and scooped a hefty portion into it. Finding a spoon, he swiveled some onto it and lifted it to his lips.
“Why?” The question was simple enough. The growl made Étienne freeze, the porridge-filled spoon next to his lips.
“Easy, Armand,” Étienne said in a placating manner. “I have no interest in your female. I only ask because I’m curious, as your brother.”
Two tense heartbeats later and he calmed. “I think you should mate her…and soon,” Étienne murmured. “If not, you’re probably going to try to kill me, and I doubt Mother would appreciate that. I’ve always been her favorite, you know. Something about the rest of you being too hostile.”
***
“I’d like to know about my parents.”
Penny expected her statement to be met with surprise. She didn’t expect complete shock, but the expression crossed Old Ma’s face before she looked back to the bubbling pot of food.
Midday was approaching, and they were seated before their cabin preparing the noon meal. A few other older women sat in front of the other slave houses preparing the meals for the occupants.
“Wha’ you wantin’ to know about ’em?” Without letting Penny answer, Old Ma used a long piece of wood to stir the food. “I already tell you Thomas Thorn killed ’em—”
“I know, Old Ma,” Penny interrupted. “I want to know more about them. Like what they were doing here in the first place? Were they born here or brought here? Why they waited so long before fleeing? How did I survive if Thomas Thorn shot her through the heart while she was pregnant with me?” She paused and took a breath, and her brows furrowed. “I don’t know why it took me this long to ask these questions, but I want to know as much about them as you did.”
Hyacinth, who’d been staring at her steadily, dropped her eyes somewhat guiltily, before shuffling around the pot.
Penny’s eyes trailed her as Hyacinth continued to fidget. With her heightened ears, she caught the sound of a rapid heart rate, and in a soft but firm voice, asked, “What are you hiding from me, Old Ma?”
Looking back to Penny, the woman sighed and shuffled over to her. She sat in her chair and spoke, “Sarah came to this plantation ’bout thirty five years ago—’bout five years ’fore you were born—”Already, Penny was shaking her head. “That would make me thirty…?” When the older woman only stared at her, Penny continued, “You said I was around twenty-five, not thirty.”
“You didn’ grow like regular folk, Penny. Started off f
ast when you was a baby, then slowed down…so I start tellin’ ’em you the age you look and act like.”
With that new bit of knowledge, Penny swallowed and nodded once. “Please continue. You were talking about my mother.”
“Right. Sarah. Came ’ere calling herself a ‘abolitionist’.” A fond smile touched Hyacinth’s lips and her gaze drifted away, as if she was remembering. “Nobody know what that mean so she explain, say she don’t believe in slavery and she and people like her trying to put an end to it. Everybody think she crazy. Don’t want nothing to do with her. But she come to me and few others and she teach us things. She taught me how to read and speak properly like this so I could pen letters and hold conversations if I needed to. I ain’t never had to do any of that but I passed on what I know from her to others—like you.” Hyacinth paused and looked back to Penny. “She looked like you too, tall and graceful-like with ’em vibrant brown eyes and your smile. Everybody loved your ma…” Her smile faded and became grim. “And those that ain’t love her was obsessed wit’ her.”
“Thomas Thorn?”
Hyacinth nodded, and curled her lip. “Thomas Thorn been after your ma since the day she set foot on this plantation. Just inherit the plantation and accustomed to gettin’ wha he want, Thorn wasn’ ready for your ma. Sarah wasn’ like us. She got in trouble all the time for sassin’ people, especially him, but Thorn jus’ get obsessed. Tried ever’ possible way to get her into his bed, even offered to set her up in the negro area o’ New Orleans as his mistress. She refuse him every step of the way, and each time she refuse, he get more cruel, more crazy. I ask Sarah why she just don’t leave, and she say she stayin’ because she ain’t fulfill her cause yet. And then your da come here.” She found another small smile for Penny. “He wasn’t even sold here or nothin’. One day, he just show up, this tall, strapp’n brown-skin man that talk better than any man I seen and ain’t ’fraid o’ no one, and he just neva leave. Soon’s he get here, him and Sarah in love.”
The older woman laughed. “Not couple of hours, and ’em two actin’ like they been together for years.” Laughter faded. “Thomas Thorn notice it, close as he watch your ma, he notice most everythin’. He don’ like it ’tall and when your ma get pregnant, he turn wild. Move her into the house to watch her close ’til she ’ave you. Sell your da. But your da stronger than a regular slave ’cause he like you and your ma, and he escape, come back for your ma, and they try to escape together.”
Hyacinth’s eyes watered, but she blinked quickly and shook her head. Her voice faded and Penny was sure she wouldn’t have heard without her heightened hearing. “By time your da escape and come back for her, Sarah big wit’ you and can’t do much of nothin’. But she run with your da anyway ’cause Thorn was either gon’ kill you or use you to control her. ’E was prolly expecting it ’cause soon they leave, him and Ryder and the rest wakin’ up everybody lookin’ for her. I follow after ’em in the back so they don’ see, and when I come ’cross ’em I see Thomas Thorn holding a gun to Sarah.” She inhaled sharply and blinked. “I see him shoot her, helpless Sarah, and she fall. I sit there and cry, silent in case they find me and shoot me too, but then I hear a rustling, and I look next to me and Sarah there, telling me to ’elp, take the baby. I so scared and confuse I just sit there and stare at her but she work fast. She cut you from her, give you to me, and tell me to go back, take you back. I don’ want to leave ’er but Ryder notice she not where she fall, and start searching ’er out, so I grab you and run back.”
Penny’s stomach churned. “She cut me from her?”
“Your ma knew she was gon’ die. Said she ain’t have much time left but you old enough to survive outside her on your own.” Hyacinth’s eyes glazed over. “She used her claw to cut you from her. Tha’s how I know fo sure she not human.”
“And my father?”
“I ain’t see him die but he must have if Thorn got to shoot Sarah. Louis rather take a mosquito bite than let Sarah feel it.”
Penny didn’t know she was crying until a calloused finger wiped a tear from her cheek. Blinking, she quickly brushed her tears away but Hyacinth’s hand caught her cheek and held her firm.
“Thank you for telling me about my parents, Old Ma,” Penny whispered softly, struggling to control her emotions. If Thomas Thorn wasn’t already dead, she would have killed him. She had no qualms about the fact that Ryder would die. Still, it wasn’t enough. Penny couldn’t imagine the pain her parents must have felt, knowing they would die, unsure of whether their child would live.
“I’s sorry, Penny,” Hyacinth said softly. “Reason I ain’t tell you ’fore is cause you was young and brash, and I ain’t want you runnin’ up to Thorn and killin’ him in broad daylight.”
Penny nodded. “I understand. I don’t blame you, Old Ma. I never asked about—”
“You ain’t neva asked ’cause I made sure of it.”
Confused, Penny removed the hand at her face and drew back. “You made sure of it?”
“They don’ call me a voodoo priestess for nothin’, girl. Your ma and da was the first of they kind I met but my people deal wit’ things not all people can do, too.”
“I don’t understand—” Penny shook her head. What was Hyacinth trying to tell her? “Your people?”
“My ma and her ma and her ma’s ma was all slaves on this plantation. We ain’t neva leave ’cause we made sure of it. Them Thorns try get rid o’ us but they can’t ’cause we ain’t let ’em.” She paused and eyed Penny. “You understand?”
“No.”
“The book I have—that book you been tryin’ to read since I taught you how—that book been passed down to every generation of my family. My ma show me how to use it to cast spells for different things: heal sick, bring sick, cast off evil, bring evil. Some call it voodoo, some call it black magic. It been in my family for long’s I remember.” Hyacinth exhaled deeply, and looked away from Penny. “I use it to make you forget about your parents ’til you old enough to control that thing you got inside you.”
“You put a spell on me?” Penny didn’t know what surprised her more. That Hyacinth had potentially done voodoo on her or that this woman, whom she’d known her entire life, was actually able to do so?
Hyacinth nodded. She refocused on Penny once more, looking contrite. “I sorry I did it cause I know you hurt, but I do it to protect you. The good Lord ain’t see fit to give me no chirren, but I raise you like my own. I ain’t gon’ sit back and watch you attack Thorn and get youself kill. Sarah and Louis won’t want that neither.”
Penny stared at Hyacinth as if she were a foreigner. Anger bloomed in her chest and she stood. She felt the urge to yell and scream at the older woman, but respect kept them from spilling out. Instead, she spoke through clenched teeth. “You made me forget my parents.”
“For you, Penny. To protect you.”
Shaking her head, Penny stood and strode into the slave quarters. Many emotions warred within her, and anger seemed most dominant. Her beast was agitated, demanding release. While she doubted she’d ever hurt Hyacinth, whichever form her body took, Penny needed to get away from her, just in case the wolf chose to make an appearance.
Chapter Eleven
One week had passed since the eleven slaves had left for the North, and during that time, only two people, outside of Old Ma, had addressed Penny directly—and that had been because it was necessary. She’d given them a day, and when they’d still treated her like an outcast, had given them two. When two days passed, she’d convinced herself a week was what it would take for them to see that she was still the same person. Even as she’d convinced herself, she’d known deep down it wasn’t true. Still, she’d given them a week. What had started out feeling like complete betrayal had faded to a dull and hollow ache. In place of the hurt, the sadness from their exclusion, came anger.
Hyacinth, with whom she was back on speaking terms, tried to explain that while she felt betrayed, so did they. Although Penny’s hurt understood, her ange
r wanted more. She hadn’t quite forgiven Old Ma for doing whatever it was she’d done to Penny’s memory to make her forget her parents, but she’d accepted that it had been done for her good.
It was Wednesday evening and she’d just had supper outside of the slave quarters. Hyacinth sat next to her, braced against their shack, as everyone else kept their distance. With her acute hearing, she heard some whispers that had to do with her. They called her different names, many which visibly upset her, but all having to do with the fact that they considered her the “white man’s whore”.
This evening, Hyacinth must have sensed something inside her, for she touched her hand to Penny’s and said, “Don’ let ’em bother you, Penny. They gon’ forget this soon’s something else come along.”
Penny’s expression spoke for her. She highly doubted that. Pushing herself up from the tree bark against which she sat, she handed her bowl to Hyacinth and prepared to stroll over to the thicket of people who sat next to one another, laughing and talking.
“Penny, don’t do—”
Although her intent was to give a blistering set-down to the occupants of her slave quarters, someone else seemed to have the same intent for her. Before she could move off, a brown-skinned woman close to her age stepped directly into her path. Penny barely got the chance to think she looked familiar before the woman spat directly at her feet.
Her lip curled into a snarl. “You think ’cause you Massa’s whore ain’t nobody gon’ tell you nothin’. Well you’s wrong. I tell you, you nasty and gon’ get what comin’ to you soon—”
“Aisha, you betta go back to over where you belong, girl—”
Old Ma jogged her memory with the name. Aisha. Ray’s sister. The anger that surfaced with Aisha’s actions was starting to fade as it gave way to understanding. “If my brother kno’ what a whore you is, he ain’t neva woulda come ’round you!” As Aisha spoke, her voice rose, and the people who hadn’t already been watching, turned to look at them.
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