“I am the only person awake in the longhouse, writing by the light of a single match. Though I am exhausted from the journey, my thoughts refuse to rest…I chanted with them today, though I did not understand the words. I listened to the beauty of their voices against the steady beat of the drum and closed my eyes, feeling the pleasant heat of the bonfire soothe my icy skin. An elder explained that they pray for spring, and I gratefully prayed beside them…Elizabeth, my goddess, is on my mind, as always… Finally, I have the courage to ask her, and I am no longer afraid of her answer. I wish I had more to offer, but I can only hunt skins for trade and give her what I can… Oddly, in the face of never-ending dangers, I am overcome now with a sense of peace. After confessing the grief I have carried, I feel at rest. I feel as though Susan is finally at rest. She hadn’t truly been gone to me before… Now I believe I can allow joy back into my life without the guilt of going on without her.”
~From the diary of William Wells; December, 12th, 1685
~*~
“Right. Can you be perhaps, a bit more specific?” Giles asked, squinting over the rims of his spectacles as he scribbled notes across a bit of parchment with his quill.
“Large,” Elizabeth repeated, stretching her arms up over her head and standing on tip-toe to provide a clear visual.
“Yes, yes I’ve already got that much. But is there nothing else? It shall be rather difficult for me to research this demon without any other defining characteristics. You said it tried to engage you in combat, yes William? Surely you would remember something clearer.”
“Hey, look, sodding thing smacked me around—no combat involved. And I was too busy gettin’ my arse kicked to notice its bloody hairdo.”
“So, it had hair then?”
“No,” Elizabeth and William sighed in unison.
“Goddamn research’s gettin’ us nowhere,” William grumbled.
“It was so dark and we were running for our lives, making it terribly difficult to—wait a moment…it had red eyes. I remember it had red eyes,” Elizabeth remarked excitedly.
“Good, good that’s something,” Giles nodded, scribbling away.
“And…any thoughts on that?” William asked hopefully.
“Hmm? Oh, I think it could be any number of things. But the way you said it seemed to be charging directly for you, and the manner in which it pursued you…clearly we’re dealing with something that has an agenda. And since demons don’t tend to maintain their own agendas outside basic survival—I would deduce that the creature was summoned and manipulated by an outside force.”
“In that case, the answer seems pretty obvious to me—“ William interjected.
“No! No, it can’t be…that power is no longer a threat,” Giles murmured to himself, resting his brow against his knuckles.
“I’d say it’s bloody likely! The two of us—of course! I’ll get over there myself and—“
“No! Will, please, first things first. Before we go seeking out further trouble, I suggest we find a way to stop this thing from coming back. We’ll worry about the hows and the whys after that.”
“Why can’t we wipe the piss-head out first? Maybe that’ll take care of it!”
“William, we mustn’t cause unnecessary violence. We’re in a precarious situation as it is—“
Elizabeth switched from pacing around the kitchen alcove to perch on the corner of the table where both men were seated. Fed up with being ignored, she sardonically waved her arms until they finally glanced up from their discussion.
“Hello, I’m still here, remember? And I’m sick and tired of all this code-speak! For the love of God, just tell me already!”
To that, Giles fell silent while William glared at him pointedly as he leaned back in his chair, brows raised.
“Elizabeth, if we can simply get through the present crisis, you may ask me anything you wish to know. But for the time being—especially since we don’t know who or what is behind this, I don’t care to dredge up the past,” the elder man replied, his eyes flickering firmly to William.
“Fine,” Elizabeth sighed, “How do we fight this?”
“We’re going to need help and guidance, that’s for sure. Spiritual guidance. A shaman, I think, could help us. We’ll need to make contact with the Five Nations, Will, and see if they can do anything for us.”
William nodded solemnly, resting his chin on his fist.
“Five Nations? What’s that?” Elizabeth asked, wrinkling her nose.
“The five native tribes that make up the Iroquois confederacy. They know the land and its history well, and their magics are strong,” Giles answered.
“So where are they?”
“There’s a village to the north of us in the Province of New York. It’s a two, maybe three-day’s ride.”
“Well, there’s no way we could go, then. Look outside. The snow’s getting worse,” Elizabeth noted, gesturing to the window.
Powerful, whistling winds sent torrents of swirling white flakes against the window pane. The snowfall had picked up and increased steadily throughout the day after William and Elizabeth’s return to the cabin. It was growing near impossible to see in the blinding brightness of the storm. And William had been right; after marveling at the way the glittering white drifts crunched beneath her feet, the novelty of the snowfall was beginning to wear thin, especially in light of their crisis situation.
“I am afraid we have no choice,” Giles replied, “Something must be done, and quickly. There is a rampaging demon about that’s likely to return, and we have no apparent means of controlling it. It must be stopped before someone is hurt. One of the shamans could guide us to its destruction, perhaps. A ritual or consecration…anything.”
“I’ll go,” William murmured, breaking his silence, “I can ride out tonight and camp at the post. I’ll take Sassafras—I don’t think Sunshine could handle the storm.”
“Don’t be absurd!” Elizabeth exclaimed, jumping up and turning on her heel, “You would freeze to death!”
“I’ll make it fine. Snow won’t bother me,” he replied calmly.
“All right then,” Giles said, nodding, “We need to begin packing the necessary equipment at once.”
“I’m going with you,” Elizabeth declared resolutely, crossing her arms in front of her.
“Elizabeth, you must remain here,” Giles ordered in a much more forceful tone than he’d ever used with her.
“No,” William responded softly.
Elizabeth looked up hopefully, thinking that for once he might be convinced to agree with her in the matter. Silently, he rose from his seat and took both of her hands in his.
“I know you think you could handle the ride, Elizabeth, but your body physically couldn’t, despite your strength. You were raised in the islands—you’ve never even seen a snowfall. There’s no way you could camp in it for days on end. You’d fall ill,” William said gently.
“No, I wouldn’t!” she retorted before quickly biting her lip, as her words sounded defiantly childish even to her own ears.
“Please luv,” he whispered, raising her hand to his mouth and brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles, “Stay here. For me.”
“But you cannot go alone…” she murmured.
“I won’t be alone. I’ll have Sassy with me. Honestly, there’s no reason to worry—we’ll make it back just fine.”
“There has to be another way,” Elizabeth said quietly, the threat of tears hovering behind her words as she imagined William, trapped in a blizzard alone, falling from the agitated horse, injured and freezing to death where no one could help him…
“Cut it out, pet. You gotta quit imagining the worst, d’you hear me?” he murmured as his arms wrapped around her in a firm embrace.
She turned her head to rest on his shoulder and saw Giles averting his eyes from their display. His knowledge and disapproval no longer mattered to Elizabeth, and apparently, they did not concern William either.
“I’ll be quick, yeah? You have my word,” he promised, lightly kissing her forehead before breaking away to face Giles, “Let’s get packed up. I wanna get started before we lose daylight.”
“Of course,” Giles replied eagerly.
“And Rupert, if that thing comes back, protect her for me.”
The older man’s eyes flickered to the ground as he muttered, “With my life.”
--
The first day without him was the worst by far. She could do nothing but linger at the window, praying for the snows to cease and pondering everything that might go wrong. Giles offered her tea and bread and books of all sorts to keep her occupied, but her attention remained fixated on the storm outside; and her thoughts remained on William, traveling on horseback into depths of uncharted frontier.
“He’s a great horseman, William.”
The old man’s reflection appeared in the darkened windowpane above her own. She glanced up over her shoulder as he placed a steaming cup of tea on the table and drew out a chair to take a seat beside her.
“You needn’t worry so, Miss Elizabeth. The woods are his home. I think he is more at ease there than anyplace else.”
“Yes…I know.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes as Giles sipped his tea occasionally and removed his spectacles once for a handkerchief cleaning. He then drew in a breath, clearing his throat.
“I may be a bit antiquated, but I am not as naïve as William believes…I do know what transpires between you.”
Elizabeth simply stared straight ahead into the frosty evening and nodded, unwilling to deny anything.
“You love him, yes?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I confess that I—I knew this would come eventually. And I thought it ill-advised, at best. With circumstances being as they are…such an affair could only end badly, but—“
“You cannot know that!” she exclaimed, swiftly turning her head in response.
“But, it is not my place to say such things. The two of you…do you know anything of fate, Elizabeth?”
“Destiny, you mean?”
“Aye, of sorts…Some might say Susan’s time was meant to come when it did so that another would be chosen at the exact right moment. And on the same turn, I would say that William was meant to find you…After we buried Susie, I lost him too. He became quite dark and caustic, shrouding himself in grief, taking to the woods for days at a time. They were so close, the two of them…so like to one another. Nearly two halves of the same person, it seemed, with the way they understood each other. That loss nearly killed him, I think…But since you’ve been here, I have perceived a joy and vitality in him that I’ve never seen before. And how could I not give my blessing to that?”
“Thank you, Mr. Giles,” Elizabeth said, her eyes filling with tears.
“Being trained as a Watcher from the time that I was a boy, I never had the opportunity to love, to marry, to have children of my own. Taking in William and Susan after their mother died…it was the greatest gift ever bestowed upon me. I love him as my son, Elizabeth, and more than anything, I want his happiness.”
Elizabeth nodded, swiping at the tears that slid down her cheeks.
“The future is always uncertain,” Giles continued with some difficulty, “I’m not sure what lies ahead for you. That’s something that I’ve stayed awake at night and struggled over, because the truth is, there is something different about you. I am unsure of exactly what it is or what it could mean…but I have a sense of it.”
“How am I different?” she asked, bitterly remembering the way she’d been perceived in town. Peculiar…
“I’ve seen you fight. Your reflexes…you anticipate things. And there is a certain energy about you. Are you aware that you’re a seer?”
“What? Of course I’m not—what does that even mean?!” she asked incredulously.
“You’re more aware of the world around you, and your senses are stronger. Perhaps you see visions of the past and future or truths that bring greater clarity to the present.”
“I—they’re just dreams. Vivid, yes, but—only part of my own imagination.”
“Are you certain of that?”
Elizabeth paused, drawing a long, shaky breath.
“No,” she whispered, “…I—I saw her.”
“You saw whom?” he asked.
“Susan. In my dream.”
Giles swallowed and removed his spectacles to wipe his brow.
“And—and what did she tell you?”
“It was confusing. There was something dark and old—it was trying to hurt us. I don’t know how I knew it, but that evil thing…it never goes away. It’s older than anything else. She said I didn’t have to fight it yet.”
“Good lord,” he croaked.
“There was something else she said…311 ahead stained with red. Does that mean anything to you?”
“I haven’t any idea,” he sighed, “It seems an arbitrary number. 311 people, days, years? I don’t know. She intended it as a message for you, I presume. Something only you were meant to understand.”
“But I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.”
“I think, perhaps, you will someday, Elizabeth.”
--
Late that night, Elizabeth remained awake, listening to the mournful, howling winds pound against the walls of the rickety little cabin. Giles had finally turned in after sitting vigil at the door for hours on end clutching his weapons and waiting for any evidence of the demon to appear. Once he’d begun to nod off, he retired upstairs at Elizabeth’s insistence after making her promise that she’d wake him at the first sign of anything suspicious.
In an attempt to keep her mind away from the demon, the storm, and her own oddities, she sat propped up in bed, reading by the light of a flickering beeswax candle. Across her lap lay William’s copy of John Donne’s poetry collection opened to the page he’d marked with the emerald green ribbon. Her fingers brushed over the words he’d underlined in ink as she mouthed them silently.
“TWICE or thrice had I loved thee,
Before I knew thy face or name ;
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame
Angels affect us oft, and worshipp'd be.
Still when, to where thou wert, I came,
Some lovely glorious nothing did I see.
But since my soul, whose child love is,
Takes limbs of flesh, and else could nothing do,
More subtle than the parent is
Love must not be, but take a body too…”
Reading these words, precious as they were to William, Elizabeth drifted off to sleep as she pondered the day she first met him, and how she’d felt as though she were seeing a ghost or sensing something deeper…just beyond the reach of her own memories.
--
The ground felt cold and hard beneath her worn, tired body. A terrible hunger seared through her belly, and a dull, throbbing pain emanated from the base of her skull. Part of her consciousness told her it was a dream, though this experience was quite different from the others. Her mouth was dry; and a bitter taste lingered on her tongue. Before she opened her eyes, she knew by the stench of filth that she was covered in dirt and grime. At first, she could see nothing, because her surroundings were darker than a moonless eve; but slowly, gradually, her weary eyes adjusted to the bleak and lonely world.
Gathering her last shreds of strength and dignity, she attempted to stand on wobbly legs. Fleeing was her first instinct, but she soon discovered herself bound to the earth below. Heavy metal cuffs sliced into her wrists, from which sprang thick, rusted chains that connected to a deep place beneath her feet. From beneath me, it devours. Fruitlessly she struggled, clawing frantically at the painful restraints, but her bitter fight soon proved futile. She collapsed in miserable weariness, her knees no longer able to support the impossible weight of her body. Staring out into the black, she could see nothing but a void of swirling mists. In the distance there was a vague hint of light, but it only flickered, nearly dying out completely. Stretching her arms up as far as the chains would allow, she strained to grasp at the glimmer on the horizon, but it was hopelessly far. And in that moment, she felt such utter despair rip through the core of her being that she began to wail like a lost child weeping for her mother’s arms.
“You can’t just sit there and cry about it, Buffy. Nobody’s gonna do it for you.”
“What?”
For some reason, she wasn’t surprised to see Susan, wearing long and flowing dark garments that covered nearly every inch of skin. Crouching low, the brunette knelt until she rested on Elizabeth’s eye level.
“311, baby. Daughter of the righteous. It’s who you are.”
“Three hundred and…”
“It’s time. It’s all time. Crack open the Good Book. It’ll show ya some truth for once.”
“Set me free, Susan. Please.”
“Can’t. I’m just here to talk.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Oh come on. Surely you wanna know something. I mean I’m dead, right? I’ve seen it all from both sides and back. Seen it all before.”
“Tell me how to get out of here.”
“Can’t. It’s somethin’ you gotta figure out.”
“Then why are you here? Why do you come to me like this when all you can offer are riddles?”
“’Cause you’re not alone in this. And one day there’ll be trees in the desert.”
Elizabeth nodded in a fleeting moment of understanding.
“There’s a light,” she remarked, “What is it?”
Susan breezily glanced over her shoulder at the weak flicker dying in the distance. “Oh, that? That’s the spark. It’s the part of you that remembers.”
“I won’t remember, will I?”
“You won’t need to. It’s all laid out—the way it goes. And…he’ll remember for you. Someday, he’ll remember.”
“But first he'll lose his way.”
“Quit worryin’ so much about loss. Sometimes it's a gift.”
Susan rose, her long black shawl billowing behind her.
“Wait, I—I need your help. I can’t…” Elizabeth stuttered fretfully.
“Sorry, but this part’s all you. Let me know how it goes.”
“Meet me when I get there?” she asked shakily.
“I’ll be here,” Susan replied, “I’m always here.”
As Susan slowly faded away, walking into the darkness toward the burgeoning sounds of water and children playing, a little girl giggled triumphantly as she jumped from a high cliff into the sea.
The unclean spirits went out, and entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea.
No, that isn’t right. That isn’t right at all. That’s the way men wrote it.
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