“At the James’ residence, they almost slammed the door in my face when I asked about John James. I assured them I meant no harm, and I think the presence of Emily helped calm them down. They invited me in when I told them that Emily’s mother had gone missing, and I’d been told John James might be able to help.
‘Ain’t nuthin’ that old coot can do to help you,’ Mrs. James replied. ‘He done took off before we could get him help for his lunacy.’ Mrs. James explained that John raved about time travel theories and delusions about being hunted by a man named Balthazar. ‘He done lost his mind,” Mrs. James said with a sniff. ‘Left me on my own without a penny to my name. And then this Italian woman came looking for him. I told her to look in the Freeworth Timberland forest. I’d heard tell that he wandered in the woods like the crazy man he is. Good for nuthin’ muttonhead, that’s all he is.’ I thanked her for her time and made haste for the Freeworth Forest.
“Our search in the forest proved fruitless. So, I am heading home with Emily, my dear precious baby girl. My heart is heavy. I will close the chapter on Alina and always be grateful for my beautiful daughter. I can’t help but wonder if Alina truly could have been a time traveler. That would explain so much about her mysterious comings and goings. But, alas, I shall never know.”
I thumbed through the following few pages, finding them blank. “Your poor father.”
“Yes. This is such a sad tale. But…” Emily looked at me with glistening eyes. “If my mother traveled to another time so she could birth you, however, I couldn’t be happier.”
She clasped her hand to mine.
“Me, too.” I squeezed her back and waved the journal, heedless of its fragility. “This is so exciting, Emily! I wonder if John James is still alive? He might be an old man, still living in the forest.”
The wheels in my mind started spinning in all directions.
Men’s shouts rang out.
I whipped my head toward the burned-out front room.
“Olivia!” Roman bellowed.
I raced toward the front of the house, leaping over fallen furniture and other debris.
Roman and Marcellious were on the ground outside, writhing as if in pain.
I rushed toward them and crouched next to Roman. “Where are you hurt?”
Roman let out a groan and pointed to his abdomen.
“Emily!” I called as she burst from the house. “See to Marcellious’ wounds.”
Gingerly, I lifted Roman’s deerskin shirt.
Blood oozed from a nasty gash on his side.
“Oh, this is awful. How did this happen? Who did this? Was it a Native American attack? American soldiers?”
Marcellious lifted his hand, pointed to the willow tree, and rasped, “He did.”
I lifted my gaze, and my skin iced over as I stared at my mother’s killer.
Olivia
As I looked at the evil eyes staring back at me, I cried out in horror. Memories of my ten-year-old self came back to me. This man before me had taken my mother away from me. “It’s you! You’re the man who killed my mother!”
Unlike my darkness, his visage appeared human, tall and imposing, with crystalline blue eyes and short-cropped black hair. Appearing around fifty, he wore proper men’s attire—a long jacket, breeches, and a vest—not the flowing robe and the hood that hid his face. Bulging muscles strained his clothes.
And then, unless my eyes deceived me, he transformed into a demon with glowing red eyes and skin like Dahlia’s cracked, charred covering. Sharp teeth protruded from his red gums. His face was ghastly, like I was staring into a collection of nightmares, each scarier than the last.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes, and then he was back to being human.
Same as at the fire ceremony, when faced with my own darkness, a thick, dark fog surrounded me, obscuring me from the others. This had to be some sort of trickery that the darkness employed. I searched around for Roman, Marcellious, and Emily.
They appeared as vague, blurry shapes, moving slowly beyond the fog.
I tried to step toward the demon-man, but my feet were glued to the ground as if sturdy roots shot from my legs, spreading to the earth’s core. “What did you do to me? Why can’t I move?”
A benign smile crossed his cunning face.
