Blue Bell, Eganene
Agatha shouldered their pack and all but pushed Jamie out of the dilapidated cottage. Eganene’s Blue Bell receded behind him and he followed her, stumbling painfully down the mountain path towards a broad strip of black below. He was high up in the pass and the road was small below him. It was an empty highway, the surface overgrown and lonely.
It wound through the mountain, hundreds of downed trees lying haphazardly along it. Jamie couldn’t see the traditional yellow lines, but the median was intact, delineating the lanes. He tracked its serpentine path south thinking he could almost see the Philadelphia skyline.
The sun shone brightly, but it did little to warm him. Buffeted by gusts of chill air, Jamie lowered his face. The snow stung his cheeks, turning his pale skin an irritated pink. The pain was no pain after what he’d experienced. Soon, his nose was numb.
It was a difficult journey, step after step, following Agatha and her orange cat. His ungainly body moved as if it belonged to someone else. Agatha spoke only a few words.
Jamie was grateful for the silence. His mind was still clouded. He didn’t understand how he was able to stand, let alone walk. Moving at all seemed like a miracle.
Agatha said they had to hurry and he believed her. She looked exhausted and her eyes were haunted. Jamie recognized her fear and accepted it is as fact. He wondered where they were going, but decided it didn’t matter. They were running, escaping from the same people who wanted to hurt Elisabeth and Bekka. There was nothing he could do about that either. First, they needed to get away.
Still, it was hard. Not only to leave his sister, but to actually, physically run. His body was sore and a dull, low pain throbbed over the surface of his back. The muscles of his legs felt weak and the mountainside was steep enough that was he was afraid of falling. His thighs felt like Jell-O, quaking with each step.
He’d never felt so frail in his life. He had been the basketball star, arguably one of the most athletic kids in his class. Now, he was injured, feeble and lost.
They walked for hours, stopping whenever chance took them near a river. He would kneel and splash his face with the icy water, drinking by the handfuls. He couldn’t help hoping that it was all some horrible dream, that the shock of the water would wake him.
This was the fourth stop and a smaller stream. The surface was glass-like and iced over in patches. Jamie dipped his fingers in the water, seeing his scars. They crisscrossed the back of his hands. Beginning at his smallest finger, he knew they wrapped up onto his arms, the scars like blue ropes implanted beneath his flesh. He ran his fingertips gently over the bands, his forehead creased in concentration. There was no pain, just the sensitivity of new skin.
He could feel Agatha observing him. The weight of her eyes pressed into his back to make his scars burn. She was silent, her face a mask of wrinkles and her thoughts her own. Still on his knees, he cupped his hands and drank deeply, tossing his head back. Water flew and his stringy hair flapped onto his parka. The liquid cut tracks down his dirty face that he refused to wipe it away.
His new, deerskin hide coat was waterproof. The inside of the leather was lined with a soft fur, reminding him of a rabbit’s foot. It had been a gift from Selinda, along with new clothes and a pair of leather boots. Jamie was glad to have them.
They were a few dozen feet from the road, the pavement pitted as if baseball-sized hail had battered it for years. Brownish grass grew from the spidering cracks and a few larger-sized trees pushed up from under the blacktop. Jamie felt a twinge of sadness. It was like the very infrastructure of the world was crumbling.
Not my world, he reminded himself.
But the two were so very alike. The apartment where he and Elisabeth woken up had looked so familiar. And this highway? It was real in his world, too. Blue Bell. Philadelphia. The parallels kept him on his knees.
Eyes closed, he breathed the clear mountain air. This wasn’t the time. He couldn’t afford the luxury of thinking about it. His priority was his sister and figuring out how to get them home. Elisabeth was out there somewhere, probably alone and terrified. He had to pull it together, focus on how he was going to find her.
By the position of the sun, he could tell the old woman was leading them west. There was no way to prove it, but he was ready to swear that the road they were traveling was the PA turnpike. There were no signs, not even a billboard, but the fact that they were near Blue Bell made it possible.
He wiped the water from his mouth, touching the new growth on his chin. He’d never actually tried to grow a beard before, assuming that because of his age it wouldn’t come in well. He peered into a still puddle, surprised by his own reflection. A thick growth of yellow beard covered his cheeks.
His face looked hollow. He had sunken pits beneath his cheekbones and dark bags beneath his eyes.
“Agatha,” he said hoarsely. “How long was I unconscious?”
From where she sat on a downed tree, she raised her head. Dressed in a brown dress that dropped full to the ground, Jamie almost didn’t recognize the confident witch. She kept her eyes lowered and pulled her cloak around her shoulders. He almost felt pity for her.
“Three days. You’ve lost a lot of weight. I would have let you rest more,” she continued, “but there’s no time.”
“Where are we going?”
“West, southwest. I think I may know of some people that can help us.”
“Elisabeth…”
She nodded, “And Bekka. Both. Now that you are healed…” She glanced up at him. It was a tiny motion and she dropped her head again, “We can work on finding them, but first…”
“Then, shouldn’t we be headed back to Philly?” he interrupted. “Elisabeth and Bekka have to be....”
She waved a hand, “It is called Delphi here and no, we can’t go back. The city will be overrun with Dogs. It’s too big an area to search. The girls could be anywhere. They may have even left by now. There’s no way to know for sure.”
Jamie supposed she was right. He didn’t know Philly, had only been there a few weeks, but the idea of just leaving his sister didn’t sit right. “What about the police?” he demanded.
Agatha shook her head, her silver earrings clinking in the forest hush, “There are no police here, Jamie. We’re on our own.” She smiled, although it looked strained. “I know we’ll find them. It is just going to take some time. We need help.”
“How far to your friends?”
“A week. We’ll stop at the next town and get some horses. There are no cars here, but a mount will make our trip easier. We need food and weapons.”
He looked at her carefully. She seemed sincere, but it was hard to trust her. She might have saved his life, but she was also the one who attacked him. And she was so old. It wasn’t a kind thought, but he wondered what he would do if the trip was too much for her. What if she died one night and just left him here alone?
“Why are you helping me?” he asked. “You could have left me back there. You might have found Bekka…”
Agatha glowered at him, “I told you already. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jamie. It was an accident. I couldn’t leave you there to die.”
You almost killed me, he reminded himself, experiencing an odd flash of guilt.
“We’ll find them,” Agatha whispered. “I will not lose Bekka.” It sounded like a prayer. She looked at him fiercely. “I lost my family years ago. Bekka is all I have left. We will find her, and your sister, and get home. We have to.”
“But, what if…”
“No, buts,” she interrupted. “This is the only course of action. If we go back to Delphi, they’ll kill us both.”
He was alone. The sensation was overwhelming, like a wet blank thrown over his soul. His sister was missing, lost in a world that he hadn’t even known existed. He was burnt and broken. He needed Agatha as much as she needed him.
She had wounded and scarred him, but he couldn’t keep retuning to that. He was what he was, and she couldn’t undo it. Holding on to that fear and hate wasn’t going to get his sister back. The old woman had lost someone important, too. That much, they had in common.
Sunlight streamed down from the trees, cutting the empty road into pieces. Here, light shone so bright that he couldn’t see, and there, beneath the trees, shadows lay like abandoned scraps of cloth, shrouding everything in darkness. In the middle of the deep wood, creatures called to each other. Jamie watched as a grey squirrel rushed up the tree and a hawk flew above his head. It was all horribly familiar, but this wasn’t his home. This was not a forest in Pennsylvania. He listened to the birds singing and felt emptiness.
Scottie rubbed his head against Agatha’s arm and she reached down to pet him, using her other hand to wipe her nose. She put her cat in her lap and looked at Jamie. “I know you won’t be able to forgive me for what I’ve done, but I swear to you, on the very souls of my ancestors and by the gods of Rae and Wul, that somehow, I will make this right. I will find Elisabeth. We will find Elisabeth and Bekka. We will all go home. I know you won’t be able to forget this nightmare, but I promise you, Jamie, I will make this right.”
Staring into her eyes, he wanted to believe her. The woman looked half crazed. Her hair was in a tangle, brambles and leaves stuck to her parka. Yet, somehow, he saw her as something else-- a distraught, pale-faced, old woman. Nothing that she could say or do could make him forget that he was changed. If his sister saw him now, she probably wouldn’t even recognize him, but he was still Jamie.
“Agatha,” he said finally. “There’s no point talking about this. What happened is over and I’m alive. If you can find Elisabeth and get out us out of here…” His voice failed him.
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“But the scars…”
“Are just scars,” he interrupted. “I’m alive.”
She nodded and they both were silent. He could feel the tension in her body, see it in the awkward way she pet her cat. She was sorry. He knew she was. It had been an accident and she had done her best to save him. She succeeded, too, and at some cost to herself. He stood, “Let me ask you one thing.”
“Of course,” she said meeting his eyes. It was a guarded look, as though she expected him to lash out at her and was ready to accept the blow.
“Tell me you have something to eat.”
They both laughed. It was forced, but it was a start. She hurried to dig through their pack.
They saw the town’s smoke a few hours later, just before midday. It rose through a break in the trees. Agatha motioned for Jamie to look.
“That was a lot closer than I thought,” she said, crouching down.
“Glad we got a little luck,” he managed, trying to keep the conversation light. He was feeling better since their talk. The strained amity was better than anger.
“Thank you, Tod” the old woman mumbled.
For the past hour, Bekka’s grandmother had kept up a steady monologue. He knew she was trying to tell him everything he needed to survive in this world, but eventually he’d stopped listening. There was too much that was different, too many intricacies that he was supposed to memorize, that his brain just shut down.
Even on his best day there was no way he could have remembered it all. And today was not his best day. He remembered that she said that some of the towns wouldn’t be safe, but he hadn’t asked why. He had been too busy with thoughts of Elisabeth to think about Agatha’s problems. Now, they were crouched on the outskirts of what looked to be a small village.
“What’s so dangerous about this place?” he asked, squinting at the thirty or so homes clustered in a rough circle about three hundred yards away.
The buildings were almost identical in construction, like the small log cabins made almost entirely from wood. Smoke rose from their stone chimneys. It reminded him of a skiing trip he had taken at school. But that was where the similarities ended. Instead of common shingles, the buildings’ roofs were made of moss covered wooden planks. They were like bizarre reconstructions of Lincoln’s home, complete with lanterns hanging beside the doors.
Agatha confirmed his thoughts, “A little different than you’re used to.”
“People actually live in those?” he replied. “Don’t they get wet when it rains?”
“A bit. Skyscrapers, like the ones in Philadelphia, seem to come through in Eganene. But many of the smaller constructions in your world do not. People here make do the best they can. There aren’t any prefab housing units, let alone trucks or cranes. They build these from the ground-up. It probably takes the town a season just to build three or four of them.”
Jaime looked at the people walking down the dirt road, at the constant stream of boys and young men hauling firewood from the forest. It probably took a lot of wood to keep the poorly insulated homes warm. They were slowly harvesting the area around the town, fresh stumps of trees covering all the cleared land.
“Pretty simple people,” he observed.
Agatha smiled, “I think we should get our supplies and move on as quickly as possible. It’s important we remain anonymous. You have quite an accent, so the less you talk the better.”
He nodded. Selinda had spoken oddly, so it made sense that he would sound strange to the people from this world. He still wasn’t sure why the town’s people would be dangerous, but before he had a chance to ask, Agatha walked out of the forest cover, Scottie trailing in her wake.
Jaime followed quickly. Agatha might know more about their situation than he did, but if they were going to work together, she was going to have to spend a little more time explaining what was happening.
He didn’t care if she was older than him. They were partners in this. Agatha needed to involve him in the decision making process. As soon as they had a moment alone, they were going to have a conversation.
Catching up, he was aware that the townspeople had noticed them. Several small children, who had earlier been involved in what looked like a game of tag, stopped to stare. Two men with broad shoulders and blond hair, moved to intercept them. Jamie saw that the larger of the two had a firm grip on a woodcutting axe. Neither man was smiling.
“Hello,” the one on the left called out in a rumbling voice. He stopped twenty feet away and eyed Jamie’s hands.
Agatha waved, turning her palms upwards. After a quick glance in his direction, Jamie followed suit, feeling ridiculous.
“Hello, to you as well,” she replied. “And a good afternoon.”
The second man seemed to relax a bit, his face breaking into a smile, “What can we do for you Mistress?”
“My grandson and I need some goods. Are we too late for market?”
Jamie almost laughed aloud. Her grandson was he? Glancing at her face, he was surprised at how calmly she lied.
It was hard to trust someone who lied like that.
The larger of the men shook his head. He had long hair that was bound with a leather throng and a reddish beard that Jamie would have sworn had never seen a razor. “You’re in plenty of time, Mistress. Market’s open ‘til dark. I’m sure they would be glad for the patronage. Where are you from?”
Agatha walked towards the men and Jamie followed, still eying the one with the axe. He didn’t know what he could do to stop an attack, but at least he would have some warning.
“North of here,” she replied. “We’re from a small town called Leesburg. The boy’s sister’s having a baby. We have to make haste.”
The older man laughed softly, “Can never tell how quickly the little ones will come. Is the lady’s time near?”
“Child is due next week. We’re in a bit of a hurry and are hoping to purchase some horses.”
“Aye?” the larger one asked. “Horses cost a bit of money. You two don’t look the sort of have much in the way of gold. If you don’t mind my saying, Mistress,” he said with a nod to Agatha.
“True,” she replied. “But we have been on the road a few weeks and managed to find some things of value on the way. I was hoping to barter. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of the town’s stables?”
The big man placed a ham-sized fist against his chest, “We don’t have a proper stable here Mistress, but I have a few horses that you could look at.” Extending his hand to her he said, “Name’s Tobius and this is my son Sam. We have the only horses in town.”
Agatha returned his greeting and introduced them as Mary and Paul. “Glad to meet you,” she continued. “If you don’t mind, we’ll do some shopping and then meet with you in a few hours.”
Tobius nodded and then pointed them towards the west end of town. “Market’s over there.”
As the men told Agatha which of the kiosks were the best for what goods, Jamie looked around. He could see some of the children peeking at him from the nearest windows and pulled the hood of his parka closer about his face. None of his scars were visible, except on his hands, but they curled about his throat. The thick bluish marks were an invitation for a discussion he did not want to have.
People would be curious about what had happened and Agatha had said to avoid that conversation at all costs. He figured that she probably didn’t want to have to defend herself, but he also didn’t want to relive the moment. Tying the neck of his parka closed, he crisscrossed the rope into a bow beneath his chin and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Three young women in floor length dresses caught his attention. They were returning from the direction of the market, each with a large wicker basket. He couldn’t tell what they purchased, but the whole scene was so surreal that for a moment he had trouble reconciling it with reality. People dressed and acted like this in early America, not in the twenty-first century.
Jamie looked at Tobias’ axe. It was a functional weapon, chipped in places but without a speck of rust. He wondered if he couldn’t purchase some kind of weapon for himself. He didn’t care what it was, anything was better than nothing. If people out there were searching for them, he wanted, needed something. Not that he had any idea of how to use it, but what were video games good for if not to teach you some skills. His fingers twitched at his sides.
He looked up and noticed the woman. She was alone and dressed almost like the others. Her fiery, red hair was woven into many thin braids and wrapped in a bun behind her head. Silver earrings dangled at her ears, the ends trailing down to settle between her breasts. He knew, because her gown was cut several inches lower than the others.
How could a woman like that not stand out?
She stood watching him. Jamie averted his eyes, his cheeks flushing red, embarrassed despite himself. She was spying on him! He chanced a glance back at the house, but she was no longer there. The doorway was empty and the wooden door was closed. After checking the street, he conceded she was gone.
“Let’s go, Paul,” he heard Agatha say. He had to check himself before he answered her. Shouldering their pack, he nodded to the two men.
Sam, the younger one, looked at him oddly. Jamie figured the guy probably thought he was strange. Maybe Agatha could come up with a better story next time, like he was from out of the country or something.
“Mary,” he said sarcastically, once they were out of earshot. “I think it might be a good idea if we bought some weapons. If you can’t use magic and the next villager isn’t so nice, we need something to defend ourselves with.”
She nodded. “I agree with you, but I haven’t used a weapon in years.”
Surprised that she had ever used a weapon, he said, “I was talking about me.”
“And you know how to use a bow?”
“Well, no…”
“Halberd?”
He shook his head.
“Sword? Dagger?”
Jamie shook his head again, beginning to feel stupid. Agatha stopped and regarded him. She stood that way for a few seconds and looked him up and down. Finally, she smiled, “I think you would do well with a sword.”
“You don’t have to make fun of me,” he said, sourly. “I was just trying to be practical…”
“No,” she replied. “I think you’re right. When I was younger I took fencing lessons. I’m no good now, but I might be able to show you the basics. If anything happened, at least we’d have a chance.”
Walking again, Jamie looked at her, trying to decide if she was messing with him.
“I don’t know much about other weapons,” she said, “but I bet you’re big enough to swing a sword. We’ll see what we can get.”
Jamie thought about it. A sword sounded a bit ridiculous. “How about a gun?”
Agatha almost laughed, “Eganene doesn’t many of those. We could never afford one. Plus, I can’t buy you a gun. You’re a kid.”
Jamie arched an eyebrow, “But a sword is fine?”
The old woman grinned, “I suppose that does seem a bit hypocritical doesn’t it?”
“Just a bit,” he replied.
The market was much larger than he expected. There were at least thirty wooden stalls covered in brightly colored canopies that identified the type of good being sold. Agatha told him that the merchants set-up shop in the morning and would take everything home at dusk. They’d been lucky. The village only had market once a week.
“There are some horses,” Jamie observed, pointing behind a set of stalls.
Several single-horse wagons were lined up, the reins of the animals tied to wooden hitching posts. A solitary guard lounged nearby, looking ready to fall asleep. He was large with thickly muscled forearms that rested over a belly that had drunk too much beer. The man’s jacket was stained with food.
“They won’t be for sale,” she said, pulling him away.
Jamie looked at the man, weighing his chances. Agatha had told him that she didn’t have an Eganese money and that she was planning on bartering. But with what?
These people were poor-- their tables covered with farm goods, hand-woven blankets and whittled crafts. All the food Agatha brought from Earth had rotted and their clothes had disintegrated into dust. They had nothing.
Jamie turned in a slow circle taking everything in. The townsfolk’s clothes were plain and functional. They had aprons tied around their waists and their hands were calloused. Even the children were thin and ragged, their toys nothing more than sticks, rocks and the occasional filthy doll. These people had nothing; they wouldn’t loan them horses.
Jamie wondered where they were going to sleep tonight. Maybe if they were close to town, he could sneak back and... He kicked at a dirty clump of snow, sending it flying in small chunks against one of the buildings. No, he was no thief. He’d had the chance to learn those skills in New Orleans and he’d passed it up.
Agatha stopped at a kiosk and began perusing the items. The merchant, a plain man, smiled widely with his yellow teeth, “Mistress, how can I be of service?”
Agatha introduced herself as Mary and asked about his goods, touching the blankets and feeling their textures. The man kept up a stream of chatter, telling her how they had been crafted with care, where and from what animals he’d gathered the wool. Eventually, she began bartering.
Jamie watched the townsfolk.
They didn’t seem like people from another world. They were human and poor, people who’d come to get things they needed. He watched them buy bread, flour, meat and vegetables, clothes to wear and things to warm their families. Simple. Mundane. Real.
It made too much sense. Where was the magic? The blue lightning? The witches with their cat eyes and furry hands?
This was like 17th century Europe, a huddle of humanity, poor farmers bonded together for safety, striving for civilization. Jamie shook his head and glared at Agatha. This whole thing was taking a long time. His stomach was rumbling ominously. Shifting his feet, he saw Scottie and picked him up, stroking the cat.
Back at the horses, Jamie saw that the guard had indeed fallen asleep. He was standing with his back against a wagon, his head resting against the cloth cover. The man’s cudgel rested against the nearest wheel. Jamie wondered if he was fast enough to snatch it before he woke.
It might work. There was nothing behind the man but forest. If he could get Agatha to cut the reins and lead the horses out, they could probably disappear. Obviously, it wasn’t the best plan, but at least it would get them horses. Jamie shot her a look, wondering if the old woman would be able to move fast enough.