We leave in the early afternoon, not late morning as I had planned. Packs and water over our shoulders, we trek back into the forest, following the stream downhill and picking our way through the brush. I carry Father’s rifle in my hand with the bullets and powder hanging near my waist. The familiar weight is comforting. In a world where I am uncertain about our future and my ability to provide for us, knowing precisely how to shoot the rifle brings a sense of comfort.

We find the hollow as the sun ducks behind the mountain. From here, we turn and head toward the village. It’s much easier going now that we are descending the mountain. Once we are closer, I plan to turn and skirt the village through the forest. The forest will cover us for a few miles after that until we reach farmland. From there, we will travel in the open. After another mile or mile and a half, I see a cross carved into the trunk of a tree.After another mile or mile and a half; I see a cross carved into the trunk of a tree. A marker for someone in the village to find their way home, perhaps. Or more likely a superstitious attempt to keep the “evil” in the woods at bay. Whatever the case, it means we are close to the village.

I silently point to the cross and then motion to the right. Jane nods silently. It is time for us to circle around the village. We are making better time than I thought. Jane is moving at a quicker pace than I thought she would…even with the heavy bags weighing us down. The sun has only just set and darkness is falling. There will be no moon tonight, so we will have plenty of cover to move.

We continue on through the woods. A shabby wooden arch with a pair of lanterns hung from it marks the road out of town. The Reverend makes sure they are lit every night without fail. This is a misery for those in charge of keeping them lit, but it makes a wonderful beacon for us to know where we are heading. Through the trees to our left, I can occasionally see the lights of the village in the darkness. We are closer than I intended to get, but on a night with no moon, nobody will be out of the village and in the woods.

In the darkness, it is hard to see Jane, but I can hear her moving behind me. I can also hear that she has been pausing and when I look over my shoulder, I think I see her silhouette looking off to our left. Toward the village. I stop and pull her close, whispering into her ear. “Is everything okay? Do you see someone?”

“No,” she breathes quietly back, “I’m just thinking about Thomas.”

I nod quietly and unseen in the dark. “Okay…he’s okay I promise”. Jane doesn’t respond, but she starts to walk again and I have to step in front of her to stay ahead.

We proceed quietly through the forest until I see two lights side by side to our left and away from the lights of the village. That must be the lanterns on the arch and the road. We stop and rest quietly on a log. We are making much better time than I thought we would. At this pace, we will reach the farmlands in the valley with plenty of darkness left to cross.At this pace, we’ll reach the farmlands in the valley with plenty of darkness left to cross them. Of course, if we do that, we’ll have to spend the day somewhere in the fields hiding, and I’m not sure where to do that. Alternatively, we can waste tonight and tomorrow waiting for tomorrow night.

“Do you remember where the ditch is deepest by the road?” I ask Jane. There is a ditch that runs parallel to the road for some ways out of town. About a half mile from the arch, there is a deep spot where the road cannot see anyone. We used to hide here and spy on the comings and goings of the town.

“Yes.” she responds quizzically.

“Good,” I whisper back, “can you find it in the dark?”

“Yes,” she whispers back again.

“Great, I want you to go there and wait for me.” I’ll be there in no more than two hours. Follow the road, but make sure you’re not seen.

“Where are you going?” She reaches out and grabs my hand. She is strong. I never realized how strong she was. Her grip on my hand is nearly crushing it.

“I’m going to check on Thomas.” I whisper back.

“You can’t!” Jane’s grip becomes impossibly tighter. “You can’t! they’ll find you!”

“I’ll be fine…” I whisper back, trying my best to project confidence. “There’s no moon and I’ll be quiet as a mouse. I’ll meet you in the ditch…I promise.”

Jane’s grip loosens slightly, but she doesn’t let go. “You are so brave, Jane. Be brave.” I whisper. Her grip loosens more.

“Make sure Thomas is safe,” she breathes. She drops my hand, then hugs me tightly. Before I can say anything else, she is gone, disappearing into the woods like a ghost. I never knew she was so strong and able to move so quietly. Perhaps there is a great deal I never bothered to learn about my sister. She’ll be okay, though. I tell myself this as I turn left and creep toward the village.

The village has been constructed around one dirt lane that runs from the arch to the church at the end of town. Along this road are the residents’ homes, which range from rickety one-room cabins to the Reverend’s four room farmhouse next to the church. The home I am interested in is the Smiths’. Fortunately, their home is only the third from the arch. Around the village, the forest itself has been cut back, leaving a large open field that stretches for 100 to 150 feet in each direction from the village.Around the village the forest itself has been cut back to leave a large open field that stretches for 100 to 150 feet in each direction from the village. The residents grow whatever crops they can in this field. Mostly potatoes and roots, but sometimes corn.

Crossing the field is my first challenge. I lean the rifle against a tree and place the powder and bullets with it, then I get down on my belly and crawl. Even without the moon to light the open field, I don’t want my silhouette giving me away. Slowly, I cross the field and work my way through the crops. It’s a painfully long way to the village, but at last I come to a short wooden fence with a small rickety cabin beyond it. I carefully crawl over the fence and up to the wall of the cabin. This is Matheias’s home. Fortunately, Matheias is a heavy sleeper. No light is escaping through the windows of his cabin, so in the darkness I can stand up and stretch silently.

The Smith’s home is just two houses down to my right, so I creep slowly behind the homes in that direction. I can see the Smith’s home from here. A soft flickering light is shining from the windows in the rear of the home so someone must be awake there. Soon I am crouching behind the Smiths’ home.

Compared to the rest of the homes in the village, the Smith’s have a comparatively large dwelling. It’s three rooms, one in the front, which serves as the kitchen and sitting room, one in back for Mr and Mrs Smith to sleep, and one for the kids. The light shines from Mr and Mrs Smith’s room…if I am properly As I remember how their home is arranged, I take up a spot out of sight in the shadows beneath the window. So I take up a spot out of sight in the shadows beneath the window. Here I can’t be seen from the road and hopefully will not be detected from inside the home.

There are voices inside. I can hear them whispering inside if I listen carefully.

“He’s sick Jedidiah…he’s really sick. You know we need to help him somehow”. My chest tightens. Is Thomas sick? Does he have the Consumption like Father?

“I know Martha…I know, but what can we do? There’s…”

“Anything! We could do anything! We could put him in the wagon and take him to the Mission…for a doctor…” For a while there is silence. It lasts long enough that I wonder if the speakers have left.

“We can’t, Martha…you know what will happen if we do…he’ll…”

“We can do whatever we like Jedidiah if you would just stand up to him…you let him take Thomas and now you won’t even lift a finger to help your own son!”. I breathe a sigh of relief and my chest loosens before I bite my tongue to stifle the noise. Thomas is not sick, Gabriel Smith is sick. Gabriel is a good boy and I feel sorry for him. If anyone in this village deserves to fall ill, it is certainly not the Smiths, and it is definitely not Gabriel.

Someone has taken Thomas though? Did someone else in the village take him? I hear Mr. and Mrs. Smith talking again inside. I pray they do not confirm what I already suspect.

“Martha!” Mr Smith’s voice has risen. I no longer have to strain to hear him. “What would you have me do? The Reverend has told us we need to pray for Gabriel and no medicine can heal him. It’s a curse from that wicked Bartlett girl and her sister!”. The description of me and Jane as wicked makes me bristle, though I can’t say I’m surprised. They will always be afraid of what they don’t understand.

“And you truly believe that!” Martha Smith’s voice has risen to match her husbands. “You truly believe those girls cursed our son? Those girls who brought us hazelnuts and venison with their father? Whose mother set your leg after the horse threw you? You really think those two put a curse on our son?”

“Martha…”

“No Jedidiah and then you let that reverend take their brother from us because you’re too scared to tell him ‘no’!”

My heart sinks and I pull away from the window, back into the darkness of the field. The Reverend has taken Thomas. I know I should head back to Jane. I can’t be gone too long or she’ll worry and, God forbid, she comes looking for me. I can’t leave yet though. No matter how dangerous it may be, I creep around the Village toward the church and the Reverend’s house beside it.

As I approach, I see that the back windows of the home are dark. When I get close to the rear of the house, I see the curtains are still open, however. I’ve been in the Reverend’s house once before, but I remember it is similar to the Smiths’. A large sitting area and kitchen occupy the front of the house, while there are separate rooms for the Reverend, his son Matthew, and a third room that serves as storage for canned goods and pantry items. The home connects to the church by a door in the kitchen. On Sundays, the Reverend would emerge from this door dramatically to begin his sermons which sometimes lasted for upward of three hours when “the spirit struck him”.

I assume that if Thomas is with the Reverend, he will sleep in the room with Matthew, which, if I remember correctly, can be seen through the middle window at the rear of the house. Creeping up toward the house like I did with the Smiths’, I take up a position just beneath the window. I now realize it is not completely dark inside. A faint orange light is emanating from within the home.

Slowly…carefully, I rise and peek through the window. The room itself is dark, but an orange flickering light is working its way underneath the door on the other side of the room. With its help, I can see that there are two beds in the room, one on either side of the room. In one bed, I can see a larger figure beneath the covers. This must be Matthew. He is a large and very muscular boy and the faint outline under the sheets seems to match him. The other bed is a smaller figure. It’s difficult to make out the outline in the darkness, but one thing is unmistakable: the patch of red hair poking out from the top of the covers whose color matches Jane’s perfectly. It’s Thomas!

In the darkness, I think I can make out the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Perhaps this is only my imagination, however. I can, however, see that he is warm and has a place to sleep. That’s a good sign. Whatever the Reverend and his family are doing with him, at least they’re not neglecting him too badly.

I want very much to tap on the window and wake him, but I know I can’t. Not only would this risk waking Matthew alerting the house to my presence, it wouldn’t do Thomas any good, either. I’ve wondered a lot since we fled if I made the right choice of leaving him here. I imagine if I could wake him quietly, I could take him with us. We could all go together to William’s. We could be together again. Surely that would make Jane happy. Without him, I can tell Jane feels like she’s missing something.

No, I can’t. I have to leave him here. Even if the Reverend has taken him into his, Thomas is a boy. The sins Mother and Father taught Jane and me are only sins because we are not men. Our sins are virtues when Thomas displays them. As much as it hurts and as guilty as I feel, I’ll have to leave and be content knowing that he is safe and hopefully well cared for. He can have a life here…we unfortunately, cannot.

Without warning, light floods the room and spills out the window. The door is opening! I panic and quickly duck down beneath the window, freezing in place and desperately hoping that I haven’t been seen. I hear the latch of the window drop and it creaks slowly open. Looking up out of the shadows beneath the window, I see a long hooked nose, dark eyes set amongst waves of wrinkles, and wisps of thin white hair. It is the Reverend.

I tense up to run, wondering if I will have to flee. He looks out of the window over me and his eyes do not drop, as though he is trying to penetrate the darkness with his gaze. He makes no sign that he has seen me. I am so close I can see his nose twitch as though he is sniffing the air. I hold my breath and wait motionless for what must be close to eternity. Then finally his head withdraws and I hear the window creak close. A few seconds more and the light in the room vanishes. He must have seen movement but not been able to make me out. That would explain why he came to the window.

I finally let my breath out and inch away from the house and get back on my belly to crawl. When I reach the forest again, I collect the rifle and make my way through the trees, heading for my rendezvous with Jane. When I reach the ditch that runs by the road, I follow it until it deepens and I climb in.

Jane leaps in surprise when I arrive. I must have been walking too quietly for her to hear, but her surprise doesn’t stop her from rushing to hug me.

“You’re okay!” She cries.

“Yes, Jane, I’m okay…and I’ve seen Thomas,” I reply.

“I knew you’d be okay.” Jane says back “I made sure of it…”

“You…made sure of it?”

“Yeah…” In the darkness, I see her silhouette look away and I can hear the sheepishness in her voice. Suddenly she gushes, “I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. There was a thing in the book for protection. It said to burn some birch bark and recite some incantation that I didn’t understand and…I did it for you. I was going to do it for me too, but you came back before I could. I know I shouldn’t have, but I want to make sure we were okay!” In the darkness, I can tell she’s almost crying.

Damn it! I curse to myself. Of course she did. I’m a fool. I left her alone with that damn book and she went and tried to do magick with it. Does she know what she could bring on us? Would Father’s friend even help us if he knew she was dabbling in witchery? Jane sniffles and my anger softens.

“It’s okay Jane,” I say. I’m angry that she played with the spellbook, but I try to remind myself she was doing it to keep me safe. “It’s okay…I know you wanted to make sure I was okay. Just please tell me you left the book in the cave.”

“Yes,” she says quietly. “I put it back in the cave…where I found it.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, Mary…I promise.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “You shouldn’t be afraid of a thing just because you do not understand it Mary”. I don’t think Father was talking about witchery when he told me that.

"Thank you for looking out for me Jane…just next time, maybe no spells, okay?”

“Okay…I’m sorry”. Her voice brightens. "You saw Thomas? Is he okay? Are the Smiths’ taking good care of him?”

“Yessss,” I reply slowly. “He’s okay. He was sleeping when I saw him, but he looks healthy and he’s in a home where it’s warm. I think he’ll be okay.”

“I’m glad!” Jane chirps back. “I’m glad the Smiths took him. They’ll take good care of him.”

“Yes,” I reply quietly. “The Smiths will take excellent care of him”. The words hang in the air as we load our packs again and set off into the night.

Next Chapter: Chapter 6