Unsettled Graves: A Crossroads of Kings Mill Novel (The Crossroads of Kings Mill Book 3) (14 page)

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Trying to work on her paper was a waste of time. It had nothing to do with the random people coming by and checking out their volunteer recruitment booth. It was her. The paper had nothing to offer in the way of anything exciting. Basically she was just retelling history of a people no longer in existence. She might as well have been writing about the lost continent of Atlantis for as much information she had to work with.

It didn’t help when every few minutes she felt as if she were being watched. Vickie told her about her energy how the past was drawn to it, the need to keep from reacting to its pull, to control it, not let it control her. She needed to focus. Meditate. Clear her mind.

Saving her work she closed the lid to her small notebook computer and sat back to relax. The shade of the canopy kept her from having to block out the heat of the sun. The sounds of people echoed into the distant corners of her mind until all she heard was the thrumming of blood rushing through her veins.

Tonya.

Opening her eyes at the sound of her name, she noticed a lone figure standing before her under the canopy’s shadow.

“Can I help you?” She adjusted her sight to make out the details of the dark figure.

They stood there. The old woman from her dreams. She appeared shrunken and withered, her skin darkened by years in the sun wearing animal pelts layered over her body in no specific pattern, more like a shroud than clothing. A single item of jewelry, a piece of bone or claw hung from a sinewy thread around her neck. Tonya was drawn to the object.

Dark obsidian eyes gleamed at her from between sunken brow and skeletal cheekbones. Tonya wasn’t scared. She knew this woman but wasn’t sure if she should be afraid of her. The woman said nothing as she turned away, motioning Tonya to follow. Standing up, she moved away from the table, only to realize the table and canopy were no longer there. Nothing was there. No buildings, no people, and no intersection, just open valley.

Tall grasses waved against her bare legs. The woman walked ahead of her without looking to see if she followed. Clean, crisp air surrounded her. Tonya shielded her eyes with her forearm as the landscape began to take on other details. The gentle rush of water could be heard. There was a small river creek to her right. About twenty feet across, the winding, clear water danced over rocks and tree limbs feeding from it. Was this heaven?

Never had she seen a bluer sky or such clear water. The grass was laden with wild flowers and wheat-like grass. Standing still she took it all in, glorying in the beautiful calm. A few minutes later she decided to continue to follow the woman who had continued to walk on.

So happy and at peace she jogged and skipped along to catch up and ended up tripping over a rock and falling. She didn’t stop falling though. There was no ground and it was more like she’d been pushed into a deep, dark hole. She landed with a thud. Once she regained her bearings, she saw the old woman’s necklace glowing in the dark, next to her hand. Reaching out she grasped it, curling her fingers tightly within her hand until the sharp point punctured her middle finger.

The tiny shock of pain made her aware she was still alive. Raising her head Tonya was able to look around enough to see close to her. She was resting on an odd shifting of materials beneath her. Was it rocks, tree limbs perhaps? Had she fallen into a ravine? Her eyes adjusted to the dark and realization settled in. It wasn’t either of those materials. Skeletal remains leered back at her. She screamed.

Tonya woke with a start. Vickie sat on the bedside, a singing bowl in hand. The vibrations from the bowl were soothing, and yet, slightly irritating to her nerves. Was that what woke her up?

The strong aroma of white sage accosted her senses. Dotty was chanting and smudging the room, cleansing it from negative energy. Where was she? Vickie’s hand on her chest prevented her from sitting up.

“Whoa. Take it easy…not so fast.” Vickie warned as she placed the brass bowl on the bedside table.

“What’s going on?”

“That’s what we were hoping to find out,” Dottie said worriedly.

Vickie waved her sister away. “Can you go fix her some chamomile tea, Dot?”

Dottie huffed. “I can help, too, Victoria. You aren’t the end all on the subject of metaphysics.”

“Please…”

“Fine. I make better tea than you do, anyway.”

Dottie left the room. It was then she realized she was in Vickie’s guest room. She fought to remember where she had been.

“It seems you took a fall at the festival.”

That’s right! She’d been at the historical society’s tent on the corner of Main and Addison, but then what?

“Do you remember anything?” Vickie asked.

Tonya struggled. “I was sitting and trying to work on my paper, but I couldn’t concentrate.”

“Because of everything going on?”

“No…I don’t think so.” She tried to remember. “Someone kept calling my name.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “There was a woman…an old woman, wrinkled and wearing a wrap of some kind like animal pelt…and necklace of bone or a fang or something?”

“Animal skins?”

Tonya nodded.

“Was she the woman you saw in the tunnel?”

“Yes!” Excited that Vickie knew the woman too meant a great deal. “She wanted me to follow her.” She stopped as images came back into her memories. “We were in a valley with wild flowers and tall grass. A creek with the clearest water…I was running or skipping, trying to catch up to her and then I was falling into this dark pit and when I came to there were…oh my God…they were dead! Bodies everywhere. I was laying on them!”

Her excitement of remembering turned to horror as the memories of the gruesome bodies beneath her came to the hilt.

Vickie enveloped her in her arms, rocking her as she cried and sobbed, smoothing her hair back.

“It was a mass grave, wasn’t it, Vickie? Was I one of them? Did the old woman lead me to my death?” Tonya pulled away, looking at her mentor for answers.

“I can’t say for sure. You know that each scenario we encounter, each dream we dream is interpreted in different ways.”

Tonya wasn’t sure, but something didn’t seem right. She’d been sitting at the volunteer table one minute and then she was in a different world…or was it a different time?

“Vickie, where was I when you found me?”

“I didn’t find you. April did. She’d just come from the mill to relieve you.”

“And?” Tonya had an odd sensation there was more to the story.

“There was a group of people who said they saw you walk from the table and trip on the manhole cover…and landed on the cobblestone square. That’s where April found you.”

Tonya didn’t discount the fact at all. There was something hiding under those cobblestones…something haunting her. Something she needed to uncover before she could do anything else.

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She thought she’d slept the weekend away but it was still Saturday. When Virginia, April, Kenneth and even her dad showed up, there’d been talk all over town about the odd girl who’d danced, skipped in the street and had a seizure on the old cobblestones. Great! Just what she needed. As if she wasn’t loopy enough, now the whole town knew.

“Don’t worry about them. This is more of an issue then they can ever imagine.”

“We need to take care of this. How many more issues like this can she endure?” April demanded, having gone through similar situations not too long ago.

“I don’t want her enduring any of this bullshit!” Chris Meade stepped forward. “This is what I was afraid of. You all and your hocus-pocus, witchcraft…”

“This isn’t about us, Christopher.” Vickie stood toe to toe with him. “This is about you.”

What? Tonya didn’t know why Vickie would go after her father so viciously.

“Wait a minute. What does my father have to do with any of this?” Tonya defended.

Vickie calmed herself. “You’re right. You are not to personally blame. It’s more of your bloodline than anything.”

“My bloodline?”

Looking around the room, Vickie looked a bit ill at ease. She sat down. “Years ago, I came to Kings Mill when I was traveling. I was drawn to this small rural town by some unknown force. There was an energy here that enchanted me, pulled me. It wasn’t until my husband died that I was able to come back and really try to understand what it was about Kings Mill that had me in its grasp. To make a long story short, I found out Kings Mill is a natural crossroads.”

An audible gasp sounded from the rest of the Wilton Women and Tonya.

“A crossroads? What’s that mean? Like in historical?” Tonya’s dad asked.

“No. As in ‘life and death’,” Tonya whispered. “It’s a point of place and time where spirits can decide which way to choose.”

Vickie nodded, sagely.

“Well, that explains quite a bit then.” Kenneth let out a breath. He’d been witness to it himself.

“But there is more, I’m afraid,” she continued. “In my group studies with others of my kind who had experienced similar areas, there were connections with native tribes. The indigenous people of the land believe the spirits of ancestors control their environment both spiritually and physically.”

“I came to realize there was a deep spiritual energy residing with the foundation of Kings Mill. Something ancient that kept spirits here if they weren’t at peace. But that was because whatever it was, hadn’t found peace either.” She stood up and paced.

“My spiritual search didn’t get far. Other than possible connections and knowing there were unique sources of live energy centered on the historical district, I didn’t know what to look for…until Tonya showed up in our lives. The energy signature matched. I knew I had found the key.”

“Am I the key?” Tonya asked.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure, but everything points to you being a possibility. But that is what your purpose is. I think they might be trying to communicate with you. Your natural abilities, your research and possibly…your blood line…is a direct link to these people. They want you to tell their story. To honor them and their spirits.”

“Whoa! Whoa! We aren’t doing this again, Vickie. My daughter played guinea pig for Millie last year, remember? She nearly died.” Chris turned to her. “I won’t let anything happen to you, baby girl.”

“Dad, I’ve learned so much since then. I’m stronger now thanks to Vickie and the rest of the Wilton clan. Maybe I am supposed to represent them and I’ll do whatever I can to set them free.”

Tonya knew now that even if she didn’t get into William & Mary, that her purpose was greater than just a college degree. She was here to be a leader and a teller of truths. Her paper on the Susquahanna tribe had more to do with her than with history.

“What do I need to do?” Tonya asked. She had a feeling Vickie already had something planned.

Vickie sat down next to her and fishing into her pocket held out a bear claw hanging from an old piece of sinew. The necklace the old woman had worn. “You were clutching this when April found you. I think you know what it means.”

Yes. She had gone back in time, she had given her blood to those of the dead, perhaps her symbol of dedication. The old woman was her guide…her connection to the past. And now, she had to go back again in order to settle the souls lost for hundreds of years.

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“Look, you are going to have to make this quick. You have less than three hours until sunrise,” The Department of Public Works manager said as he had his night crew secure the intersection from all public view.

Last call at the bars had been over an hour ago. Most of the people had made it home, or at least the streets were fairly empty. An occasional straggler walked by but didn’t appear to care what was going on with DPW.

“We should have plenty of time, Jack. Right, ladies?” Kenneth asked as the Wilton Women, his wife, and Tonya waited while the crew put up work canvas to hide an area from view.

The whole cobblestone square area had been shielded as if they were going to work in the sewer, under the manhole cover. But in reality, five women, each with their own metaphysical gift were going to help bring peace to a lost tribe of Native Americans just by sitting in a circle.

Tonya wasn’t sure what was expected from her. April had the bear claw talisman in her hand. Her ability to glean a conscious memory from antique objects would be a big part of this. The rest of the women were there to share their energy.

Within moments, April kissed Kenneth as he and the crew from DPW kept the rouse of men at work going. Vickie took Tonya by the hand and led her into the already formed circle of women under the orange tent.

Special salt had been laid out. The goddesses called forth. Now it was up to Tonya to complete the circle. With trepidation, she walked into the center of the circle, right in the middle of the old cobblestones. The energy flexing through her proved there was more here than just the five of them. If there were any spark of flint, the place might even explode.

Still, Tonya sat and with Vickie’s guidance and her learned knowledge over the past months, she found the inner peace she needed to break the barrier between the past and the present.

The voices of the women chanting slowly began to fade. An object was placed in her hand. April had given her the talisman, its sharp claw point pricked her finger and as if she knew what she was doing smeared the blood that was drawn out onto the brick in front of her. Closing her eyes, she waited.

The old woman appeared, much as she had before but without the necklace. Tonya held out the object to her. The woman smiled a toothless grin but shook her head, pointing to her. She was giving the talisman to her?

“Are you of the Susquahanna?” Tonya asked softly.

“We are the people of the muddy waters.”

“Are you the lost tribe that were killed by the Maryland Militia?”

She bowed her head.

“I don’t know what to do. This is where you died?”

The old woman nodded again. “My people. Our land…our home…gone. Sickness of white man take our children, war with the great Iroquois rob us of our rights. But here, we died…many still alive...in great pit.”

Tonya’s stomach turned. She was saying some had been buried alive like Millie had been. “I’m…I’m…sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You have come. You are of the blood of the many…gone for many moons. I have waited. Now you come.” The woman talked in riddles.

“Am I a descendant? I don’t understand.”

“You are the Great Traveler. You are promised by the god to tell of a thousand lives that once lived.”

“So you need me to tell the history of the Susquahanna?”

The old woman’s head bobbed. “I blessed this land with the power to hold life and death. To bring the one to set us free. You must set us free.”

“I must rebury you?”

The old woman cast her eyes downward heaving a great sigh. “Our bodies are old. They are gone. Our spirits never die. Our spirits live on in the Great Traveler.”

“I am the Great Traveler…your spirit lives on in me,” Tonya said but wasn’t sure if she was asking to be understood or if she finally did understand.

The woman smiled again. Her wrinkled face broke into mirth knowing that Tonya understood.

“I will tell the tales. I will be one with the spirits of the people. Speak through me of your stories of bravery and good. I will tell the tales to my people so they might learn more of your ways.”

Tonya couldn’t believe the words flowing from her mouth. It was as if she always knew what to say but was waiting for the right time for them to be spoken. “Your deaths will not have been in vain.”

She continued to speak of her wishes for the tribe. As she did, visions of tall warriors, women, small children, and old men in the hundreds came forth. Each spoke in their native tongue, telling her of their tales of courage and strife, life and love. Their love of the land, the great battles fought for their freedoms. It was overwhelming and yet freeing at the same time.

Their knowledge was now hers to share. Their stories and their souls bared. And as each one passed by revealing their tales, they became a part of her and passed on through to the other side. Finally, it was just the old woman and her. She didn’t seem so old but the wisdom of centuries waiting for the Great Traveler were shining in her eyes.

“Are you at peace?” Tonya asked.

“Tell our stories, my child.”

“What about the blessing? Did you create the crossroads?”

“I did.”

“And now?”