I sleep soundly through the night, only awakening the next morning when golden sunlight streams in through the windows. Jane is not laying next to me…I assume she has woken first and already gone. I rise and stretch. I have slept in the same clothes that I dressed in after my wash. However, I find that fresh clothes have been laid out for me by William, so I change before leaving the bedroom. The house is quiet as I creep from room to room, searching for Jane or William. I don’t find either, but I find a plate of eggs and griddle cakes set out in the kitchen just as my stomach starts to rumble. Without pausing to ask myself if I am meant to, I fall into a seat and start eating.

As I eat, I hear a door open somewhere in the house and two sets of footfalls approaching. I jump up as Jane bounds into the kitchen, with William behind her. “Mary Mary! We’ve been riding Old Stone on the beach! He’s the sweetest creature! He likes apples, and he loves to be brushed!”

“Your sister certainly seems to have a way with creatures.” William laughs. “I haven’t seen Stone take to anyone so quickly in a long time.” He sits down at the table and throws his legs up on it. “In fact, I think she’s the only one he’ll let ride him, except for me and your mother.” He chuckles “He certainly would never let your father anywhere near him…perhaps he was afraid he’d end up like one of those deer in the woods.” I look at them both in confusion. “Stone is my horse.” William clarifies. “If you want, I can take you out when you’re ready to ride too…perhaps Salt will let you ride.”

Jane continues to bound around the room until William gives her another two apples to take out to the horses. When she leaves, he turns to me again. “I’m sorry…I know that you’ve just started to get comfortable here…however we need to act quickly now.” He pauses before continuing. “I want you to know before anything else that you made the right choices. You did the right thing taking care of yourself and Jane. You two are in the most immediate danger. It is troubling that Thomas is with the Reverend, but he will be safe there, at least for the moment…the Reverend will not harm him. He may seek to use him, but he will not harm him for the moment, I think.”

“Does Jane know? That he’s with the Reverend?” I interject.

“No…she does not. I did not see fit to tell her that. She will need to know, but I believe that is a conversation we should have with her together. Before we go back for him.”

“Go back for him?” My heart jumps from excitement. This is what I have been longing for, for someone at last to help me, someone who knows more than I do. Someone who can take Father’s place and tell me what must be done.

Know, “Yes, we need to go back for him.” He pauses again. “How much do you know, Mary?”

I stare at him. “I don’t know…what do you mean? How much do I know about what?”

“I see…I see,” William frowns. “I told David when Madeleine died that he needed to tell you more…it seems that he didn’t do so.” William shakes his head, sending his mane of dark hair dancing from side to side. “He wanted to protect you all, I suppose…I can’t blame him. He couldn’t have foreseen how little time he was going to have with you and without Madeline …” William’s voice trails off and his eyes glaze over. “Without Madeline, we could never really prepare you all.”

“Prepare us…for what?” My voice now carries a hint of sharpness. I am growing tired of this…I want a straight answer. I am tired and William is being as cryptic as Father always was.

“My sister Madeline was a very special woman. She could do things that seemed strange to most people, things that made them afraid of her. You’re Father…he was special too. Not in the same way Madeline was. He was special, like you. You don’t fear the forest, do you? Obviously not…you ran there first for safety. Most people are afraid of the woods because it’s dark and hides so many mysteries. They still tell stories of ghosts and demons roaming in the trees, don’t they? Still, you don’t fear the unknown, so you don’t fear the blackwood the way they do.” He smiles. “Like your Father David, you find your safety in things others are afraid of.”

My jaw drops. “You’re Sister? Mother, was your SISTER?” William smiles and nods.

“Yes, she was my sister. Older than me by a whole twelve minutes, a fact I assure you she never allowed me to forget. I told Jane while we were out riding, but I made her promise not to say anything to you till I had told you.”

A million questions swirl in my mind. “And Mother was special? What could she do?” My heart plummets, “She was a witch”. It is a statement, not a question.

“Yes, she was,” William nods again “She was indeed a witch…an extremely powerful one…all the more so because your father found her.” He peers into my eyes. “I suppose I should have expected this reaction…but then I also expected David would have told you at least something. He told me when your Mother died he would. He promised me, in fact.”

None of this is making sense. Mother was a witch? In my whole life, I have never seen her do anything like that. In my whole life, I never saw her do anything like that. Surely if she was out casting spells and curses, I would have seen her doing it at least once. Not to mention that Mother was incredibly kind. She doted on Jane and Thomas and helped her neighbors whenever she could. Whether it was watching a sick child or cooking food when others were hungry. She was hardly a wicked devil worshiper.

More so, if she was a witch, how could she have died the way she did? She went on a trip to see her family, Father said. She was gone for almost two months before she died on the trip home, fell from her horse and split her head open. Father buried her in her favorite place, he said. Where that was, he never told me.

“I have not told Jane this…not yet,” William continues. “I wanted to see how much your father had told you first.” He puts his legs down before reaching across the table to take my hand. His grip is firm though his hands are rough with callouses. “Your mother was not an evil woman. People will always be afraid of the things we do not understand and we are quick to brand the unknown as evil…perhaps it is just easier for most people that way. Rest assured though: your family is in no way wicked, nor were any of us consorting with the devil. That’s not how any of this works.” He lets go of my hand and leans back in his chair.

“Is Thomas…special? Is that why we need to go back for him?” I finally ask after a long silence.

“Yes, he is…he is very special, Mary. I can’t tell you all the history of your parents and the Reverend but…suffice it to say for now that the Reverend knows very well how powerful your Mother was and he knows, or at least suspects, that Thomas carries the same gifts.”

Jane’s return interrupts our conversation. She gallops into the room. “Did you tell her uncle? Can we talk about it now?” William laughs and stands up from the table.

“Indeed, I did Jane. She knows everything you do now.” Jane rushes to my side.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Mary? We’re finally safe and with our own family, no less! And I know he can tell us so much about Mother and Father! Maybe we can even bring Thomas here!”

I am speechless. Too much is going through my head. My thoughts race with a hundred questions and a hundred worries. I am glad when Uncle William responds to Jane. “You are quite safe here, Jane. And I, for one, am thrilled to have my family here with me at last…believe it or not, I did miss you. I was getting quite lonely here with only the horses and the river for company. We will find Thomas as well. Don’t worry, I want my whole family taken care of.” He grins. “However, before anything else, I think Mary here could use a walk on the river…I think that unlike you, Jane, she has yet to experience the water.”

We take a long walk along the river. Jane jumps and runs in the water and I join her for a while. I will admit that the river is a great deal more fun than I had imagined. By the time we turn around and return to the house, I am exhausted and my legs are covered in a slimy layer of mud. When we return, I go upstairs and lay down in bed and quickly fall asleep. On the other hand, Jane, who it seems has suddenly learned to draw upon an unlimited well of excitement, goes back outside with William to feed the horses.

I must have dreamed as I slept. In my dream, I rose from my bed as the moonlight streamed through the curtains. I hear voices outside. William is speaking in that same alien language. I follow the voices, down through the house and out the back door. The night air is cool on my skin and I follow William’s voice toward the river.

I see him there in the moonlight, standing up to his knees in the flowing water. The moonlight reflects off his dark hair, making it shimmer with silver streaks. As he stands in the river, he rocks gently back and forth and sings in a strange voice. It’s high and mournful, completely unlike his deep and comforting tone.

A ripple in the water catches my attention. A wake that moves against the current, as though a colossal fish is swimming just beneath the surface. It grows closer to William and I feel a wave of cold wash over me. I can see my breath in the pale light, though it was warm just seconds ago. I want to cry out to him to run, but I am frozen, petrified, unable to speak or move.

The wake stops a few feet before William, and for a moment the water is still. Then a form begins to rise from the surface of the river. At first, it seems little more than a white mist hugging close to the water’s surface. Slowly, however, it grows taller and takes shape, coalescing into a human figure, emaciated, almost skeletal. Its eyes sunken deep into its skull, its limbs thin and frail, it floats just above the surface of the water and towers over William.

William stretches out his hand to the apparition and sings again in that strange voice, speaking words I do not understand. In response, the specter opens its mouth and releases a bone chilling groan. Though it’s quiet, almost inaudible, I feel it reverberate through my body and the ground beneath me. So it continues. They speak in unearthly voices in an abominable conversation. I don’t know how long it lasts. In this dream, time seems horribly distorted.

Without warning, the apparition sinks back down into the river and William sighs loudly. He turns and makes his way back toward the bank of the river. He sees me just as he is climbing out onto the sandy bank.

“Mary?” he says softly. “Are you alright?”

I try to speak but no words come. My mouth refuses to respond to my attempts to talk. He approaches and lays a hand gently on my shoulder and looks knowingly into my eyes. “The spirits of this river are not to be feared, Mary, no matter how horrible they may seem.” He pauses, “our ancestors are the best source of wisdom we have, and they are never truly gone. They have been counseling me on what to do about the Reverend. Now go back to bed, Mary. We will talk more in the daylight and I will explain everything.”

I remember nothing more after this. My dream must have ended there. I don’t think about the dream for many days after this. Indeed, it’s many weeks before I question whether my dream was, perhaps, something more. It is driven from my mind immediately upon waking as firm hands seize my shoulders and legs and haul me out of bed. I struggle against my assailants and scream for help, but they are too strong. Together, they force a dirty cloth into my mouth as I am dragged from the room and down the stairs. The two men drag me through the house and into the kitchen, and I am roughly forced into a chair.

Strong hands holding me in the chair from behind. The table has been flipped on its side and pushed to the far side of the kitchen. The curtains are drawn tight and the fire in the hearth is out. The only light in the room is coming from an oil lantern which rests on the floor. Its light sends shadows dancing across the walls. I struggle again, but the hands holding me are too strong and force me back into the chair. The cloth in my throat fills my mouth and nose with the taste and smell of filth.

“Hello Mary.” A voice rasps from behind. “Your uncle was supremely…unhelpful…I do hope perhaps we can have a more productive conversation.”

From behind me a figure strides into view. I see the back of a head covered in wispy white hair before the figure turns to reveal a long hooked nose and a wrinkled face. “Let’s talk shall we?” The Reverend says as he pulls up a chair in front of me.

Next Chapter: Chapter 8