by Ford, Lizzy
I went to the barn and stepped inside, breathing in the scent of horses, leather and hay. The smells were comforting, and I paused to rub the foreheads of a few horses before leaving the barn and circling it.
I went to the well. Its whispers were faint enough I barely registered them until I was in physical contact with the stone wall. I sank to my knees beside it and closed my eyes, focusing on the images.
Fractured visions floated through my mind, and I grappled with the message the stones were trying to give me. A woman with blond hair falling. The form of a man peering into the well more than once. It was dark when he came both times, his form and features hidden by the night.
One of the women had survived the fall and died slowly, I realized as I watched. There was a stream of memories illustrating the passing of day and night, of shadows that crept down one side of the well as the sun rose and up the other side as it set.
Three nights, I counted. The woman had lasted three nights and days before the memories stopped.
Stricken by what I saw, I took a break to ground myself before I closed my eyes and sought the memories for a second round. My hands trembled, and it took all my willpower not to let my thoughts dwell on what it would be like to lie, broken, at the bottom of a well for three days.
The form of a man was present only one of the streams while the other two girls were pushed from behind and never saw their attacker.
I focused hard on capturing what I could from the image of the man.
It wasn’t Taylor. At least, there was no sense of familiarity from the girl peering up at him, and all three had met him. I didn’t know why I was so relieved. How he was involved, I didn’t yet understand.
Carter’s text jolted my out of the recollections of others. I relaxed and wiped my face, exhausted and distraught. I checked my phone.
Then I suggest you run to the other side of the island. Fast. Stay away from him, Josie. He’s dangerous.
It wasn’t the response I wanted. Carter thought me in trouble of some kind, but I disagreed. If Taylor meant to do me harm, he’d had plenty of opportunities alone with me. There was something about him that made me uneasy, but it wasn’t this - mortal danger like that which threatened the others.
I hesitated before replying. What happened to the fifth girl? There are three in the well, me and … ?
What if she died in the house, in the room at the end of the hallway?
“They are your friends?” Fighting Badger’s voice startled me, and I jumped.
Twisting to see him, I couldn’t help the flare of fear that warmed my breast and made my heart race. He squatted a short distance away, dressed in breeches and vest, his long black hair down.
“No,” I answered. Sudden interest replaced the unsettled feeling I always got when he was around. “Can you hear them?”
He cocked his head to the side, listening. “Some. They are very faint. Very unhappy.”
“The girls in the well are … were … like me. From the future. Someone killed them,” I explained. “They’ve been trying to tell me who hurt them, and I just can’t see it.” I hesitated then motioned him forward. “Sometimes if you touch something, the memories are stronger.” I flattened my palms on the stones.
Fighting Badger took the invitation and sat down beside me, mirroring my movements. We were quiet for a moment. I watched the shadowy images of his twisted mind morph into the memories of the girls at the bottom of the well.
“I see me,” he voiced after a moment. “I heard two spirits one night. I did not know the third was alive.”
“She suffered a lot,” I whispered, stricken by the idea of such a slow death. “Can you see the man who did this?”
Fighting Badger was quiet for a moment. He stood, the bone necklace he wore clinking with his movements. He leaned over the well, straightened then did it again. “A child,” he said finally.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Look.” He took my arm and pulled me to my feet. “Lean over.” Uncertain what he was doing, I mirrored his movement. He bent with me over the edge. “A man has a longer shadow.” He pointed to me. “A child or woman much smaller. She saw two shadows: mine and one your size.”
“A woman,” I whispered. My eyes went to the boards beneath my torso. I straightened, pensive. The fifth girl sent back by Carter, someone who might be able to identify other time travelers on the spot.
“Yes.”
There were half a dozen female servants in the house and Nell. I didn’t see my governess doing this; she had been as ecstatic to see me as John. It made sense the first woman sent back to this era was close, that she might be hiding nearby or within the ranks of servants.
“He knew nothing about you except that you had to be stopped.”
I looked up at Fighting Badger’s words. “Who?”
“The man who tried to hurt my brother and you. He set fire to the cabin as a warning to my brother.”
“So he knew your brother?”
“He said he did.”
“What happened …” I stopped. His memories formed once more, and this time, they were absolutely horrifying. “Stop, stop, stop!”
They dissipated into shadows. Fighting Badger smiled.
I released a breath. “Okay. You found the one with blue eyes. What about the other?”
“Other?”
“There were two men in your head that night,” I said. “This one and one who was … think about that night again.” The memories were faint and very hard to distinguish, given how dark and stormy it had been. “You saw him. I couldn’t find him in your head if you hadn’t. He was camouflaged, a large shadow, one who had been following you. At one point you thought you heard him?”
“I did,” Fighting Badger was hushed. “I saw nothing.”
“I saw him, and I think you did, too. I don’t think you knew it at the time though.”
He snatched my arms suddenly enough that I gasped. “What else? Tell me who he is.” His dark eyes burned into me.
“That’s all I can see. That’s all there is.”
Fighting Badger glared at me.
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” I whispered. “Especially after you helped me.”
The fire faded from his dark depths, and he released me.
“Miss Josie!”
“I have to go,” I said and stepped back. “You shouldn’t be seen here.”
Fighting Badger didn’t budge. He was still enough to be a statue, his eyes the only part of him that moved. He was watching me.
“Thank you for helping me,” I added.
He shifted finally and turned away.
Of all the people here, I understood him the best and least. Our shared skill did nothing to shed light on the source of his depravity.
Hungry and unnerved, I left the well. It was near noon, and I had learned all I thought I would from the dead women in the well. Uncertain what to do with the knowledge of the location of their bodies, I dwelt on their memories while arguing silently with how to help women who were already dead.
At the very least, they deserved real burials instead of being discarded like trash. But revealing that I knew they were there would place me in danger without knowing the threat.
My lunch was waiting for me in my room. I sat down to eat without tasting much. I had the urge to talk to John, even knowing he wasn’t there. The house was too quiet with everyone in mourning.
Uncertain what to think about Taylor, I was relieved he’d gone to work rather than stay with me. His home had burnt down, or I’d search it.
Convenient timing. I lowered the glass of water from my lips and gazed at the hearth. My previous suspicions resurfaced: Taylor’s connection to the man who burnt down his cabin, his secret about the night he found me, how he knew what he shouldn’t about me. He was always around when I needed him most.
Unease stirred within me. He had also rescued me twice, held me when I was upset last night and had multiple chances to do something bad to me.
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Stay away from him, Josie. He’s dangerous. Carter seemed pretty certain.
The more I thought about him, the more confused I became.
But the real danger was someone else. Someone in the house. That much I felt with certainty.
Sad and distraught, I flung myself onto my bed to stare at the ceiling before I sat up suddenly.
Without Nell looking over my shoulder, I had time to look at the phones the girls had left in more depth. I closed and locked my door before dropping beside the armoire and sliding the bottom drawer open. I carefully pulled the fake bottom of the drawer open to reveal the three phones.
I replaced the drawer and took the phones to the space between the wall and bed, where no one who had a key could enter and see what I did. I started with the oldest phone with the cracked screen. I flipped it on and off and then squinted at the screen to try to read any messages that popped up.
“Nada,” I murmured and set it aside. I reread the messages on the other two. Carter had been in a panic when he sent them. Taking a picture of one, I sent it to him with a note. Why did you tell her to get out?
The phones were in good shape, aside from the oldest one with a busted screen. There was no indication of who they belonged to, no stickers or personalized covers. Disappointed not to find more out about the mysterious women, I returned them to the armoire and sat back.
“Who the hell put you all there?” I asked the jewelry box with some frustration. “Why only three? Where’s the fourth?” And who was the fifth woman?
Would I be able to spot her if we crossed paths, or had she gone native? Determined to find out who wanted me dead before I ended up at the bottom of the well, I left my room.
I wandered the house. I went first to John’s room and stood outside it. He wasn’t there, but it still felt like he was. The enhanced memories drifted to me the way those from the well did, in splintered patches of randomness that were difficult to follow, except when it came to the images of his wife and daughter.
“He loved them so much,” I whispered, heart heavy. My eyelids drifted closed, and I watched the joyous memories of the old man that lingered with his energy in the place he passed away. Carrying real-Josie around on his hip, visiting the town square for a parade with his wife, stopping by the market at the edge of town …
I sucked in a breath, touched by the emotion that remained after John was dead. It was beautiful, pure, in a world that seemed to grow darker around me. I made another mental note to ask Carter what exactly he put in my head and how it worked when we met next.
For another ten minutes, I stood outside John’s door, the rhythmic tick-tock of his grandfather clock the only sound. I watched the happy memories. Not yet convinced I did the right thing by hiding the truth, I suspected John might’ve known, since he knew Carter.
I released my breath and left his room.
I could hear the dead. It was a good thing when I sought a missing person. I moved slowly through the house with its multiple parlors and sitting rooms, listening for any whispers or trickles of memories that brushed by me.
Tracking down every servant I could, I greeted them all and watched how they reacted. If time travelers had a tell, I wasn’t seeing it.
Hours later, I returned to my hallway and walked down it as well, realizing I had been avoiding the obvious: the source of my nightmares, the room at the very end. A whisper tickled the back of my neck, and I paused at the door.
Something terrible had happened there. The images were blurry, of blood and darkness. Two people … a fight … could that be what happened to the missing time traveler?
“Miss Josie!” Nell’s call made me jump.
I faced her.
“Why are you not resting?”
“I got bored,” I replied.
“That room is forbidden to you.” Nell shook her head. “Come. Let me fix your hair before the wake.”
I hesitated, intrigued by the idea she didn’t want me in the room beckoning to me. It meant she knew something about it. With another look at the door, I returned to my bedroom, where Nell waited behind my chair.
“Why is that room forbidden?” I asked.
“It was your father’s direction.” She raked the brush through my hair.
I winced. I couldn’t imagine her brushing the hair of baby-Josie like this. “You don’t know why?”
“It was not my place to ask.”
Her thoughts were … blank. The strange, brief gap fueled my curiosity. She wasn’t lying, but …
I hadn’t yet run into something like this. A block, one I didn’t think was purposeful, similar to how my uncle’s old school record player sometimes skipped.
Half an hour later, I left the house in a heavier than usual gown and black veil that reached my knees. A sleek back coffin was in the back of an elegant carriage, John’s best, if I had to guess. I frowned at the final resting place for the kindly man. It wasn’t anywhere near what such a beautiful soul deserved.
“Ms. Nell, Miss Josie.”
I turned at Taylor’s low voice, heart taking off for two reasons this time. He was dressed in a dark suit that appeared new and nothing like what he normally wore. He gazed at me, unreadable. He was sexy as sin in his worn, patched clothing and even more so in a new suit.
More people arrived as I waited, and I found myself moving towards Taylor as much because he cancelled out the memories accosting me as because of how much I admired his striking eyes and the way the suit fit him. I was attracted to him and had been since we met.
Half the town was here, to include Running Bear and several other natives who kept their distance from the others. Without Taylor’s presence, I’d be in a puddle on the ground from the onslaught of memories of the people standing so close. As it was, there was something I could almost read from him for once. A fuzzy vision of grays and black, of a sky and beneath it …
Almost … I released my breath. One tiny memory was trying to reach me from his mind and failed to make it the last step.
“How was your day?” I asked. I searched his handsome face for some sign of what he hid from me and how dangerous Carter claimed him to be.
“Well.” His attention was on the crowd. I had no trouble believing he wasn’t one who liked crowds or who knew how to handle his sudden fame in the small town. “Would you care to join me for supper?”
“We’re married. Aren’t you supposed to order your poor little wife around?”
He chuckled, a flare of genuine warmth crossing his features before it disappeared. “I can. Thought I’d ask first.”
“I’d like that,” I said, unable to help my smile. Just don’t be the bad guy. I almost sighed. “We can talk tonight,” I added. I didn’t have much more time to win him to my side and help me stop the native twins.
“Deal.” He offered me his hand.
Together, we walked behind the wagon through the property, trailed by half the town, to a small plot on the backside of a hill in a graveyard. There were five headstones present already with John’s grave dug out.
Grateful for the veil, I did my best not to cry too much. I was spent from the night before and just a little afraid of drawing the attention of Philip, who was always within about four feet of me.
I moved away from Taylor to go to the casket. The assault of memories from the townspeople hit me like a stiff wind.
Don’t faint. It took a moment for me to steady the foreign, swirling images and emotions in my head. I moved to the far side of the casket, where only the memories of two people were able to reach me instead of the dozen that nearly drowned me.
And then there were the rest. I turned to face the other tombstones in the peaceful, well-kept family cemetery.
The dead were talking again. Most were too faint for me to make out, and only one appeared to be … unhappy, as Fighting Badger might say. This one was close and, judging by the power of the whisper, somewhat … fresh.
Who would’ve been buried recently in the family graveyard? I re
sisted the urge to step towards the whisper. There was no grave where it came from.
“Miss Josie,” the preacher said.
Realizing everyone was watching me, I focused on John’s casket and bent to lay a wreath of flowers on it. Taylor’s arm was around Nell, who wept hard enough for her shoulders to quake.
As selfish as it seemed, I was grateful not to know that kind of pain. I ached for John more than I should, but Nell had no closure with him at all after years spent pining for him.
The preacher began speaking once more. The casket was lowered, and I whispered a final farewell and thank you to the man who showed me what it was like to have a father, even if only for a few days.
The throng of people returned to the area behind the house, where long tables had been overloaded with a feast of food. Bonfires blazed on either side for warmth, and the group sat around the tables, talking and eating.
Sticking close to Taylor so he cancelled out my empathic memory chip, I picked at my food, uncomfortable with Philip seated across the table from me and even less certain what I was supposed to do since Carter hadn’t messaged me in half a day.
I had the urge to return to the cemetery once everyone else was gone, to listen to the whisper I’d heard.
It was close to midnight by the time the last guest left, and I made my way up the stairs to my bedroom, trailed by Nell. My nanny helped me change and laid out the slippers once more.
I eyed them. The other thought I hadn’t dwelt on as much as I probably should have: what Taylor expected on our second night married. Instead, I was thinking about dead people.
I had slept with men whose names I didn’t know the next morning, but something about Taylor was different, and it wasn’t just Carter’s assertion he was dangerous.
It was the sense of familiarity, the fact I didn’t fear him, no matter how many times Carter told me he was a threat. It was almost like some part of me – whether instinct or magical chip – knew Taylor was what he claimed to be: someone who would help me.
The mischievous part of me looked forward to embarrassing him. I slid my feet into the slippers. Nell gave me an approving nod and led me out of the hallway and down John’s wing. We passed his room, and I released a breath, relieved we weren’t going to the chamber where he died.