Dreamwalkers: The Awakening

CHAPTER 10

"Will we?" I ask with just a little too much bite to my tone. "You already know more than I do."

"I don't know as much as you think I do."

"But you knew tonight was going to happen, right? You knew they had all these secrets."

She stares at the road ahead, not wanting to answer. "They didn't give me specifics."

"You should have told me."

"I couldn't!" she yells.

"Couldn't or didn't want to?"

"My parents have had my abilities under lock and key since the awakening. The only thing I was allowed to do was add another level of protection beyond what they've already done, to hide us from the dark walker."

"Is that why I didn't dreamwalk last night?" I stare daggers at her as she purses her lips. "You blocked me from dreamwalking? How?" I ask, astonished, not even knowing that was possible.

She dramatically holds up her fingers for emphasis as she replies. "With one of three incantations they're allowing me to perform. I told you, I don't know as much as you think I do."

I could argue for our entire drive, or just let it go. Battling Zoë, the one person I need on my side now more than ever, would just make everything more difficult. I have to subdue my hurt and the betrayal I feel. It's not fair to unload it all on her.

Zoë's life was turned just as upside down as mine was tonight. Dropping everything at a moment's notice isn't any easier for her. Me being there for her is just as important as her being there for me. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think about how all of this is new to you too."

"It's okay. You kinda had a bomb dropped on you tonight. We'll call this one a freebie. From now on, just give me a chance to explain before you freak out." She side eyes the bag resting on my lap. "I'm dying of curiosity. I need to know what's in those journals."

Exercising care, I pull the plastic bag that contains the journals out of the backpack. Opening the seal on the bag sends the scent of old leather, mildew, and knowledge into the air. I suspect I'm holding centuries of wisdom in my hands and it's confirmed when I untie the binding on the first journal and open the cover.

Handwritten on pages that have yellowed over time, the faint black ink is barely legible. Using the flashlight to fully illuminate the pages, I begin to read aloud. "Journal of William Thomas Owens, 10th December 1704."

"What is that—like your great, great, great grandfather?"

"No idea. Never heard of him."

"This account of my existence begins on Wednesday evening, the 10th day of December in the year 1704, the day my family received the curse of the town witch, Isabel Del Bosque. My dearest wife Mary and two of my three beautiful daughters, Clara and Anna, were taken from me. My youngest daughter, Emma, was left to suffer the curse with me.

I had performed services as requested by Miss Del Bosque. Her horse was fitted for new shoes and a wheel on her wagon was replaced. I changed the wheel on the afternoon of Wednesday and requested her return on Thursday morn to have the shoes I was forging placed on her mare. She agreed and departed my property, headed East on her wagon toward her farm on the other side of the river. It was there she resided with four other women and more children than I could count, in a residence kept for widows.

I was later informed of the events that transpired after her departure by a witness, and have been able to record them here.

As Miss Del Bosque passed over Crawford Bridge in her wagon, several planks gave way and the newly replaced wheel became trapped. Her mare struggled to free the wagon or possibly to break free and save herself, however she was unsuccessful. The great weight of the mare and the wagon pulling so roughly on the remaining planks caused the entire support of the bridge to collapse and fall nearly twenty feet into the icy river.