The Devil's Heart

by Candace Osmond

  “No,” he said to my surprise, “I can’t. I won’t. Not after…”

  Did he see me as tainted? Now that my body had been violated? Or now that he knew Maria’s blood ran in my veins. I recoiled at the thought. “Y-you don’t want me?”

  Henry grabbed a quilted blanket from the bed and came to wrap it around my shoulders before scooping me into his arms, something he always seemed to do with ease.

  “I will always want you, Time Traveller.” I mirrored his grin at the endearing nickname. “And I shall. Soon. But not tonight.” He laid me down on the bed and wrapped the blanket tight. “No, tonight, I’ll take comfort in knowing you’re safe and in my arms.”

  And that’s exactly where I remained.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Devil’s Heart anchored just off the shore of the small coastal community of Cuper’s Cove. I laid in bed that morning, with the velvet curtains closing me in, while I listened to Henry, Gus, and Finn discuss where to stop.

  “We don’t want word to spread that we’ve arrived,” Gus pointed out.

  “There’s an inlet right ‘ere,” Finn jumped in, “It’s not on the map. But I know it’s there, I’ve seen it with me own eyes. We could drop anchor, remain hidden, and come in over the hills here.”

  “Right, then,” Henry agreed, and I heard the shuffle of maps being rolled around, “We meet landfall in two hours. Go, ready the ship.”

  A couple of hours later, I found myself leaving behind our rowboats and hiking the small foothills behind Cuper’s Cove and quickly realized where we were. I stopped and stood, placing my hand over my brow to block out the blazing sun above.

  “This is Cupids,” I said to Henry who walked next to me. He hadn’t let me leave his sight since the night before.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “This place,” I continued but lowered my voice so only he could hear, “I know it. It’s called Cupids where I come from. We all know it as the very first British settlement on the North American continent. It’s the first English and Irish colony in Newfoundland. Like, ever. It would totally make sense for a Gaelic witch to be hiding here. She’s probably with her people.”

  Henry smiled, taking it all in. “I never realized how strange you speak sometimes.” Then he took my hand in his. “But I wager we’re in the right place, then, Time Traveler. Shall we?”

  We decided to split up into two groups, to scour the area better and faster. Finn, Gus, and Charlie–who’d insisted on coming against Henry’s orders–and then Henry and I. Before we went our separate ways, I felt compelled to say something to Charlie.

  I cupped his sweet child-like face in one of my hands. “Now, please, be careful. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t be a hero.” He looked confused at the last request. “Just… be invisible. Find out whatever information you can and then head back to the boats. Okay?”

  He nodded. “Yes, milady.” Then the boy shot Henry a brave look. “Don’t let anything happen to Dianna.”

  Henry fought back a grin and feigned a look of offense. “Never, my good man. You can be sure the lady is in good hands.”

  I watched as Charlie skipped off to join his group.

  “Finn is correct,” Henry spoke, “The boy adores you.”

  I smirked. “Jealous?” Henry only laughed in good sport. “He’s sweet, and probably one of your most loyal men. I think he could easily take my place as the ship’s cook. I’ve taught him everything I know.”

  The man’s grip tightened around my fingers. “Then be sure to tell Gus,” he paused and waited for me to look at him, “it’ll be up to him.”

  I could hardly hold back the excitement I felt. “Wait, does that mean–”

  The leather-clad pirate took me by the waist and crushed his body against mine, pressing our foreheads together. “I’d follow you to the ends of the universe, Time Traveler. I belong to you.”

  I could have stayed there on the hilltop with him all day, celebrating the good news, but we had more important things to tend to.

  “Come on, let’s go catch us a witch.”

  ***

  Cuper’s Cove was a merchant settlement for all sorts of ships to trade goods across the Atlantic. We entered the marketplace full of merchant and traders the scent of dried fish, spices, and other things I couldn’t name hung heavy in the air. I zipped through the thick crowds of people, casting glances at tables, inside tents, searching for any sign of… something. Anything. We had no idea what we were looking for, specifically, but a Gaelic witch would surely leave some sort of trail to follow, wouldn’t she?

  “How did you find her before?” I whispered to Henry.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he told me, “I was over near Harbour Grace with their son in tow; running, hiding, terrified that Maria would find us. I hadn’t escaped her ship for more than a few weeks, but the fear of discovery nearly killed me. I contemplated going back to her, to trade the stress for something more familiar. The boy was no more than a few years old and I had no idea how to care for him.” We emerged at the end of the market, leaving the bustling merchant and traders behind us. “The witch came to me. Offered a way to stop The Cobhams if I would help. I agreed, and the boy remained with her, with the Gaelic people. Hidden and safe.”

  I chewed at my bottom lip. “Well, that really tells us nothing.” I worried that we’d never find the witch. The Cobhams would run free and I’d never get back home. “Maybe we should go meet up with the crew? See if they found anything?”

  Henry heaved a sigh. “I suppose that’s all there is to do at the moment,” he looked up at the sky. “The sun will be going down soon.”

  We began our long hike back to the hilltops, walking in silence. I wondered what he was thinking about but never dared ask. I was eager to complete our mission and return home. Such a simple, straightforward means to an end for me. But Henry’s whole world was soon going to change to something completely unknown to him. I opened my mouth to speak but something caught my eye in the forest we walked alongside.

  I grabbed his arm and whispered, “Henry, look. What is that?”

  We stopped and stared into the forest, the setting sun stealing the light and leaving behind darkness to flood it. At first, I thought I saw a small fire burning, but the flame appeared to be a blueish-green and jumped from side to side, taunting us.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Henry spoke and moved toward the flame in awe. “It’s a wil-o-the-wisp.”

  I held back. “A what?”

  “Wil-o-the-wisp,” he said again, delight smeared across his face, “They light the way for lost travellers. I’ve never seen one, I thought them to be a myth.” His grin spread wider and he willed me to make the connection. “A Gaelic myth.”

  My pulse raced, and I stumbled over the marsh, following Henry into the dark forest, the tiny green flame dancing through the air as it led the way. We trailed behind it for at least half an hour, struggling to keep up. Over roots, under branches, and across narrow creeks, I kept my eyes on the anomaly. Mesmerized by the otherworldly creature before me.

  I wanted to get a better look at it, but the closer I got, the further it danced away from us. But, suddenly, we stopped, and Henry held out his arm before me, guarding my body. The wil-o-the-wisp came toward us and I could feel Henry tense. But I wasn’t scared, I didn’t feel threatened by the tiny creature.

  It lingered around the pirate, unsure, then came to me and hovered just inches from my nose. My face lit up with wonder and awe when I realized that the flame was actually some kind of… fairy. It was the only word I could think to describe it. Abnormally long limbs hung from a small, round body and two almond-shaped black eyes blinked back at me. Its green glow emanated out from its figure and created a flame-like shape.

  “H-hello there, little guy,” I greeted and carefully brought my hand up to it. The wil-o-the-wisp looked at it and stuck out a delicate, twig-like hand to touch my finger.

  “Greetings,” a strange voice greeted from behind u
s.

  The fairy’s flame doused, and it zipped away into the trees. Henry and I turned, then, and found a woman standing there. Her long green skirt dragged across the ground as she ambled toward us and the torch she held lit the forest.

  “Martha,” Henry spoke, and I realized this was the Gaelic witch we’d been searching for. The Wil-o-the-wisp led us straight to her. I watched as he tipped his head in respect. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Yes,” she replied, “I imagine ye’ve come for me help?” Her long, red hair fell in front of her as she bent to touch the torch to the ground where it lit a fire in a circle of rocks. “Good intentions, yes? Or the wisp would not have brought ye here.”

  Henry nodded. “Yes, good intentions. The bottle has been broken, along with the spell you cast to trap The Cobhams.”

  She stared at him for a moment and then turned her piercing green gaze to me. “You,” she said, the English word curling on her tongue. “Ye broke the bottle?”

  “Uh, yes, it was an accident.”

  The witch’s face changed, melted into some sort of realization. “Yer not from here, Time Traveller,” she said matter-of-factly and began circling the rocks toward me. Henry tensed and moved closer, shielding me with his arm.

  “Dianna found the bottle in the future before she broke it. It somehow sent her back with The Cobhams,” he told her.

  Martha cocked her head and smiled. “The Cobhams weren’t sent back, they never left, my spellbound them here, to be stuck in their own time.” She paused and looked me up and down. “But not the bottle.”

  “Can you do it again?” I asked.

  Martha’s mouth turned into a sly grin and she sauntered back around the fire. “Aye, I can.”

  Henry’s body relaxed. “That’s excellent news. What do you–”

  “I said I can. I didnae say I will,” the woman replied. “Why should I help ye this time?”

  Henry narrowed his gaze. “Why bring us here, then?” he asked angrily. “Just tell us what you want.”

  Martha’s eyes shot to me and she tilted her head. “Her.”

  My chest tightened with panic. “Me?”

  “Yes, ye don’t belong here,” she replied. “Ye need to go back, put things in place. Just like I told yer mother.” She shook her head. “Ye Cobhams, always causing trouble.”

  Panic turned to shock, and my heart squeezed in my chest. “W-what did you say?”

  “Oh, ye didnae know?” Martha amused. “Yer mum was a Time Traveller, too. She found herself stuck in the future when she didnae listen to me. I could feel Constance tugging at the strings of time, tryin’ to find a way back. Then, one day, she stopped. I ‘magine it was the day she had the likes of ye.”

  I shook my head, tears forcing their way from my eyes and stealing my voice. How could her words be true? Everything I ever knew replayed in my mind through a different lens. Mom. Her obsession with the past, her never-ending search for… something. She was trying to find a way back. My knees gave way and I fell to the ground where I wretched air from my gut.

  “No, it can’t be true,” I cried.

  “Aye, ‘tis,” the witch replied with certainty. Of course it was, she had no reason to lie and no way to have even known about my mom. Accepting it made more sense than denying it.

  I felt Henry’s hands grasp my arms and pull me back up to my feet. “Are you alright?” he whispered.

  My stomach threatened to betray me, but I managed to nod. “Yes, I just can’t believe it, but someh–” I stole a quick glance to the witch who swayed back and forth across the firepit, impatient, “It doesn’t matter anyway, she’s gone.”

  I didn’t believe my own words and they made my throat tight to even say them. It did matter. It meant everything to me. But we had more important things to worry about. I’d process the news about my mom when this was all over when Henry and I were safe in my home in Rocky Harbour.

  Martha waved her arms in an upward motion and the fire before us grew. I watched closely as she pulled a glass bottle from a green velvet bag that hung from her side.

  “We must hurry. I need somethin’ to lure them to us.”

  “Like what?” asked Henry.

  “Somethin’ belongin’ to Maria or Eric,” the witch replied and then muttered some strange words as she smoothed her hands over the bottle.

  I was at a loss, but Henry turned and pinched my jacket sleeve between his fingers. It was perfect. Maria’s red jacket brought me this far, it would be the thing to end it all. I nodded to him in approval.

  “We have her coat,” he informed the witch.

  “Very well,” she replied, “come and stand here.” She pointed next to the fire and I followed. The three of us then formed a triangle around the blaze and the Gaelic witch continued to chant in another language. I assumed it to be Gaelic, the foreign sounds rolling off her tongue and dancing in the air around us.

  “Wait,” I cried out, and the two of them turned their gaze to me. “I need something first.”

  Martha examined my face and then nodded. “Ah, a way home.”

  Was she a mind reader, too? “Yes, please. Can you tell me how or give me something to send us back?”

  “Us?” she asked curiously.

  “For Henry and I.”

  “A relic I can make for ye,” she answered, “but fer ye alone. Henry belongs here, in this time. Did ye not understand that?”

  The pirate stepped closer, fists clenched at his side. “I go where Dianna goes,” he insisted, “and you will make that happen.”

  “Oh, will I, now?” she challenged, eyebrows raised.

  “Yes,” he continued to break the triangle as he moved closer to her, “I reckon you still want to protect the boy. And you can’t do that with his murderous mother burning the Earth searching for him. Dianna’s jacket is the only way to locate them.” He paused to let his words register with the reluctant witch. “Let us do this now, and swift. Give us a way to get to the future and we’ll help you trap The Cobhams once more.”

  Her tense gaze shifted back and forth between Henry and I as she mulled over the deal. Finally, she responded, “Very well. But ye can’t be mucking with things. Going to the future has less of an effect, but still an effect, nonetheless.” She awaited our responses, but I only nodded. Martha sighed. “I’ll need somethin’ of yers, somethin’ brought here with ye.”

  “You mean… from the future?” I asked and fished around in my jacket pockets for my key chain. Relief washed over me when my fingers found it. “Here, this should work.” I walked around the fire and placed the snow globe in her hand.

  She held it up and examined it curiously before cupping her hands around it. I watched intently as Martha closed her eyes and mumbled a Gaelic chant. She bent down to pinch some earth between her fingers and sprinkled it over the trinket. A red light began to seep from the cracks between her fingers and the fire grew next to me.

  Henry took the moment to reach out and hold my hand. He brought it up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss across my fingers. “Are you truly alright?”

  I managed a deep and shaky breath. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

  “But your mother–”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said again and then added, “eventually.” Henry responded with a light squeeze of my hand and I stepped closer to kiss his face. “I’ll have you to get me through it.”

  Finally, she stopped, and her eyes flew open. “There,” she handed the key chain, now warm to the touch, back to me, “when yer ready, simply break the relic and ye will find yerself back home.” She stole a sly glance toward Henry and then quickly darted back to me. “Be sure yer touching him when ye do, or he won’t be travelin’ anywhere.”

  I beamed and clutched the snow globe tightly before returning it to my pocket. “Thank you.” Her only response was a defiant harrumph and I took my place in the triangle once again.

  “The bottle is prepared,” she called out to us as the fire crackled loudly in the center. “
We just need to draw them near. Are ye ready?”

  Henry and I exchanged looks and then nodded.

  “Hold out yer arms,” she instructed, “and do not break the circle, no matter what. The spell will cease.”

  I swallowed hard against my suddenly dry throat but held my stance around the fire. Martha’s eyes closed as she chanted away, spewing words I couldn’t understand. The fire came to life and danced before us, casting shadows on the trees and forest floor. Henry and I stared at one another, unable to touch, but comforting each other the only way we could. I saw the fierceness to protect me in his black eyes, and I willed him to be okay. We stood and listened to Martha chant and taunt the fire with her magic for a good while, and I began to worry that it wasn’t working. Was it possible that The Cobhams had already fled the area? Were they too far away for the effects of the spell to take hold?

  Suddenly, a shadow caught my eye, only because it was out of place. It didn’t dance with the flames. I narrowed my gaze and focused on two dark figures, making their way through the trees behind Henry.

  Adrenaline coursed through my veins and my lungs strained to take a deep breath, but my heart pumped too fast to allow it. This was it. This was the moment I hoped never had to happen. The moment when I’d actually meet the devil woman. The tall, feminine figure stepped out from the treeline and our fire lit her features. My body raced with heat; fear and adrenaline coursing through me like molten glass.

  There she was.

  Maria Lindsay Cobham. In the flesh.

  Eric soon sidled up next to her and they both looked around in confusion, swords drawn. Her eyes landed on the witch and Maria lunged.

  “You!” she spat loudly. “You wretched sorceress. Where is my son?”

  “Maria, look,” Eric spoke and pointed to the now glowing glass bottle at Martha’s feet.