Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (3 page)

I ignored the comment and placed the focus
back on her. “Who else do you fancy… besides Jack?”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “There is no other
than Jack. He is a perfect match for me. He is the nephew of the
Governor and your father’s apprentice. He will make a fine husband
and move me up in society.”

Abigail spoke, but it was her mother’s words
that poured from her girlish mouth. Her mother had convinced her to
give up on the notion of love and to find comfort in marrying for
practical reasons, mainly money and social standing.

“Do you think that you will love Jack?”

Abigail’s eyes grew wide and her smile
broadened, “I will learn to love him and I will certainly love the
large home, silk dresses, and slaves that he provides me with.”

At her last listing, I felt my stomach
tighten. I wanted to reach over and slap her as hard as I could,
but I knew I was not allowed. My family did not own slaves, and we
had our reasons for that, but those reasons were never to be
uttered aloud. Yet another family secret that I was forced to keep
to myself, and yet another moment when I would be bound to bite my
tongue. Abigail tried to talk to me but I ignored her, and we rode
on through the deep forest in silence.

********************

As we worked our way through the woods and
toward the pier, I started to hear the bustle of the busy port.
Zachariah settled the carriage in a little spot designated for such
vehicles and he then came around to the side of the carriage and
helped his sister and I to exit the contraption.

He puffed up his chest and ceremoniously
stretched out his hand for me to take. He was a tall boy, and
perhaps one day he would fill out like his father, but as of this
moment, he appeared as lanky as his little sister. He smiled at me
as he assisted me out of the carriage, yanking my hands in close to
his body and placing them on his shoulders; he then lifted me by my
waist and gently placed me on the ground. I pressed my hands
against his shoulders to put some room between us. I found that
being this close to Zachariah was not only awkward, but rather
threatening.
I looked up and his brown eyes
caught mine, I could not help but cringe as his frail pointy
features stretched into a smile, his sandy blonde hair sat slick
against perspiring forehead head.
Abigail smiled broadly.
She wanted nothing more than for us to be sisters and found this
union to be the best option of accomplishing her goal. Zachariah
took a long time to take his hands off my waist. I finally had to
swat them away.

He ignored my rejection as he haughtily
pulled at the cuffs of his expensive brown jacket, then turned on
his heels and led us to the port, where shops were set up by the
ship merchants in order to trade with the locals. The locals in
turn had shops that catered to the needs of the merchant vessels,
selling fresh produce, livestock, and medical supplies. Many large
ships were docked in the harbor and the port was crowded with
people from many different nations. Some free, some slaves and some
were the Native Lenape, who also came to trade their custom
goods.

Once Zachariah showed us where all the shops
were located, he walked away to have a drink at the tavern. Abigail
and I decided to get the herbs first and went from vendor to
vendor, collecting all the items on our lists. My favorite was the
English lavender. I purchased as much as I could carry and then
went back to the wagon and placed it inside along with all the
other herbs. Lavender has a lovely fragrance and I remembered that
it has magical properties for luck, so I pinched off a little sprig
and placed it in the pocket of my dress.

We went back to the merchants but this time
we were looking for fabric and jewelry.

“My mother wants rubies,” Abigail said, as
she searched the table of sparkling goods.

The seller resembled what I would imagine a
pirate to look like.
His skin appeared weathered
and he was very tan. He wore tattered silk with lace and tall black
boots.
He dug through a little velvet pouch and dropped a
ruby pendant onto the table. Abigail picked up the trinket and held
it to the light. She nodded that she liked it and then turned to me
to take care of the trade. Abigail was not good with counting
money. I bartered with the man and corrected him when he tried to
cheat me. He watched me in shock as I tallied up his payment and
handed it to him.

“Thank you,” Abigail smiled at the pirate as
he handed her the jewel.

He just nodded in reply and waited for us to
leave before he went off gossiping to his friends about the girl
who could count and trade. My father had indeed taught me well.

We made our way down the dock and were
standing at another little jewelry vendor, when I felt something
pulling at my back. I spun around but no one was there. I was
holding a necklace in my hands. The pendant dangling from it was a
deep garnet stone inlaid with silver Celtic knots on a silk cord
and it had a silver clasp. Somehow, when I held this piece of
jewelry I felt my memories jolt, although I did not know why. I was
holding it in my hand when my attention fell to a giant ship that
was offloading its passengers. I looked around briefly to see who
had tugged at my cloak, but no one had, or at least I did not see
anyone who could have. I thought of what my mother would say. She
would say it had been a spirit trying to get my attention.
Why
was my attention required?
Was it the necklace? Was Abigail
in need?
I looked over at my friend and found that she was
holding up gold earrings and primping in the mirror that a young
merchant was dutifully holding for her.
It wasn’t
Abigail
.

As I scanned the dock, my attention was cast
onto the enormous ship. I watched its passengers descending from
the craft, most seemed quite normal. Tired, hurried and being
pushed by the force of the others behind them, all anxious to get
off the ship. Yet, I stood in the same spot and searched the crowd.
I knew that something or someone on that boat was the reason I had
been tugged upon by an unknown friend.

Finally, I saw an older man, very large with
long grey hair and dressed all in black. He was trailing behind the
others. Everyone else seemed to avoid him, and he walked with an
air of utmost confidence, as he seemed to float down the ramp. I do
not know why, but looking upon this man made me tremble. Staring at
him was like looking at a great demon. I could not move. I could
only stare and pray that he did not feel my gaze upon him.

To my utmost dread, he stopped mid stride
upon the middle of the ramp. He seemed to sniff at the air in a way
I had only seen hunting dogs do—and then he found me. His eyes met
mine and I felt a force strong and wicked encompass me. I started
to choke as I felt my throat constrict. Darkness seemed to
encompass me. A stabbing pain surged through my skull as though a
blade had struck me between the eyebrows and I felt weak and
started to sway. I lost sight of the grey haired man as a crowd of
Royal Navy sailors walked passed where I stood.

Suddenly, I felt two strong hands on my
shoulders; gripping me with the strength I could only imagine that
a bear would posses. The garnet necklace dropped to the ground with
a soft
clunk
and when I blinked and gasped, I found that I
had been placed into a local shop. I found myself hidden behind
spools of towering fabric. A man stood close beside me. He was
young and tall with black hair and soft hazel eyes.

“You are not safe here Aislin,” he said with
a thick accent, “You must go home.”

I stared at the man. I could feel my heart
pounding in my chest, blood was rushing to my brain, and I felt
faint. I clutched onto a shelf in an effort to keep myself
upright.

“Who are you?” I asked, while trying to
catch my breath.

“I am a friend,” he said slowly, with
reservation in his words. “But I must leave and you must as well.
He will be coming for you and you will not be safe until you are
out of his sight.”

I noticed that his accent was very similar
to my mother’s, although his pronunciation was different in some
way.

“Do you know my mother?” I asked.

He shook his head, “No, I do not.”

“My father then?”

“No,” he said in haste.

“Then how do you know my name?” I asked.

“I cannot say, but my dear girl it is time
to go.” He grabbed me by the hand and led me out the back door of
the shop. He picked me up as I stumbled on the dirt road and found
the Marthaler carriage. He placed me inside and shut the door. I
slumped down and fainted.

********************

Moments later, at least I believe it was
moments later; Zachariah opened the door to the carriage with
Abigail at his side.

“Aislin!” He gasped, as he discovered my
limp form amongst the herbs and goods we had purchased throughout
the day.

I thought of my protector’s words and could
hear his soft voice as though he was whispering in my ear.
“Zachariah please take me home right away. I must go home,” I
whispered, too weak to raise my voice any higher.

Abigail placed my head on her lap and
stroked my hair, “I looked all over for you. Where had you gone?”
she asked, her voice trembling.

I was too weak to respond. I continued to
lay still.

My body was limp and I felt pain running
through it and spreading like lighting bolts, but my mind was sharp
and alert, as though the two were not connected. As we rode into
the evening, I worked things out in my head. The man on the ship,
the terror I felt, the young man who pulled me from my trance, the
urgency in his voice and the fact that he knew my name, and now the
illness that came over me. I thought of the ancient book that was
hidden in the floorboards of our home. I knew it was the only place
I would be able to find answers to these riddles. I just needed to
find the strength to study the book and to tell my mother what
happened.

CHAPTER THREE

I opened my eyes to find that I was in my
bed. The smell of herbs, strong and potent, woke me from my
slumber. My mother was leaning over me, a wet cloth in her hand,
with a look of great concern on her tired face.

“I’m so glad you are awake,” she sighed. I
could tell that she had been up all night tending to me.

I stirred and tried to sit up, but she
placed a strong hand on my chest and forced me to remain in
bed.

“You are weak. Do not move until you have
regained your strength.” She walked away for a moment and I turned
on my pillow to face the window. The thick, red, curtains that hung
from my four-poster canopy bed blocked my view, and I could only
see a sliver of the glass. It was dark outside.

“Is Abigail still here?” I asked in a feeble
voice.

“Abigail left yesterday when she and
Zachariah dropped you off.”

My mind was spinning. I had slept for almost
a day and a half.
What had happened?
I closed my eyes and
images passed through my mind. The man on the ship, the handsome
young man who pulled me out of the spell, him carrying me to the
carriage—then all went blank.

I placed a hand on my head and groaned. My
head still hurt but nothing like it had the day before. Then I
heard the stranger’s voice saying my name and I sat straight up in
bed.

My mother turned with a start, “Will you
tell me what happened now?” she asked quietly.

She climbed onto my bed and sat by my side,
wiping my head with the wet cloth and crushing herbs under my nose
for me to breathe in. I told her all that I could remember of the
day before and I watched her expressions carefully as I explained
each detail. Of all the events that had transpired in the past two
days, from the man on the ship and the sickness I felt when his
eyes met mine, the look on my mother’s face when I retold the tale
scared me the most.

“I do not know who the man is Aislin, but
what he did to you was dark magic. I had thought that perhaps
Zachariah had done something to you… had hurt you in some way. Now
that I know this is a spell I need to mix a new potion.” She stood
up and started grabbing different herbs. She placed oil on my head
and put a cross around my neck. “You will feel better soon. Now
sleep,” she said, and my eyelids became heavy and I fell fast
asleep.

********************

I stood in a crowd of people who were
screaming and yelling. Yet, for some reason, I did not understand
what was happening. I looked around me to gain my bearings but I
was in an unknown land, surrounded by tall mountains and situated
in a deep green valley. There was a thick mist surrounding where we
stood. The air was humid, but yet strangely cold. I looked up to
find a dark grey sky holding the threat of rain in its ominous
pewter coloration.

Everything moved slowly, as though time had
ceased for me. Some of the people were holding torches, others
bibles. In the back of the crowd, some stood with somber faces,
while others looked enraged. I heard the sound of footsteps on
wooden planks and looked directly ahead. There stood a small woman,
frail and dressed in rags. On either side of her were men, one
small and nervous, and the other tall, broad and dressed in all
black. The tall man had his hair pulled back into a ponytail, his
grey and pewter mane matching the sky. He looked at me and sneered.
It was the man from the ship. I felt my heart stop beating and
followed his eyes as they landed mercilessly towards the fragile
female that was in the beast’s grasp. He clamped a hand upon her
neck and pushed her harshly backwards toward a tall wooden beam,
where he tied her up with rope. The crowd cheered and laughed as
the woman was bound to the poll. The other man busied himself with
stacking hay around the beam, taking great care that the hay was
evenly distributed on all sides.