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CHAPTER 61
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Marked CHAPTER 62
As I flew with Caleb, arms wrapped around him, loving the feel of his body, I thought of how lucky I was. Just the day before, I’d been worried that Caleb would say goodbye. And now, for once, her luck had changed.Thank God for that necklace, I thought.It was late afternoon by the time we arrived in Salem. He set us down inconspicuously in an empty field on the outskirts of town, so no one would notice.They walked a few blocks, and arrived right on the Main Street of Salem.I was surprised. I had expected something more. I’d heard about Salem my whole life, from textbooks mostly, always in connection with the witches. But to see it as a real, living place, as an everyday town, I found quite strange. I had imagined it as a perfectly preserved, historic place in my head, almost like a stage set. To see normal, modern, everyday people living their lives, driving, hurrying to and fro, caught me off guard.Salem looked almost like any small, New England, suburban town. There were a
Marked CHAPTER 63
I was taken aback as we walked in the small graveyard, my mind still reeling. I had never been in a place this old before. When we had entered, a large sign had read “The Burying Point, 1637.” I marveled at the fact that people had been coming here for almost 400 years.More than that, I marveled that there were a few tourists wandering the cemetery right now. I had assumed we would have been the only ones here. But after all, this was Salem. And this cemetery was an attraction. People seemed to come here and treat it as a museum. In fact, I noticed that there was an actual museum adjacent to the burial plots. It didn’t feel right to me. I felt that this place should have been more sacred.The cemetery was small and intimate, the size of someone’s backyard. A cobblestone path twisted and turned its way throughout the place, and as I strolled, I marveled at how old the tombstones were, at their strange fonts, worn away with age. It was English, but it was so old, and so quaint, it alm
Marked CHAPTER 64
I searched everywhere.But there was no “Paine” here.It was another dead-end.“There’s nothing here,” I finally said.Caleb surveyed the graveyard one more time, and seemed clearly disappointed.“I know,” he said.I was afraid our search was really over this time. I couldn’t let it end here.“The rose and the thorn, the rose and the thorn,” I said, again and again, whispering it to myself, willing myself to find the answer.But nothing came.Caleb began to wander the path again, and I began to wander, too, thinking as I went.I soon came to another large plaque, nailed to a tree. At first I read just to distract myself, but as I continued reading, I suddenly became excited.“Caleb!” I yelled. “Hurry!”He hurried over.“Listen to this: ‘Not all of the witches who were persecuted are buried in this graveyard. In fact, only a small portion of them are. There were over 130 other witches on the ‘accused’ list. Some escaped, and some are buried elsewhere. For the complete list,
Marked CHAPTER 65
I held Caleb’s hand.We had the museum to ourselves as we walked down its narrow, dimly-lit hallways. Pictures, plaques, and paraphernalia lined the walls, all of witches, judges, and hangings. It was a solemn place.As we continued, we came to a large display. I began to read, and was so taken by it, I decided to read it aloud to Caleb.“Listen to this,” I said. “‘In Salem, in 1692, a large group of teenage girls suddenly fell ill. Most of them lapsed into a fit of hysteria, and screamed out that they had been attacked by witches. Many of these girls went so far as to name the witches who were afflicting them.“Because their illnesses were so mysterious, and because many of these girls died suddenly and there was no other explanation for it, the townspeople fell into a frenzy. They hunted down the people accused of witchcraft.“It is worth noting that, to this day, no one has ever been able to determine the nature of the illness that struck these girls, or why they were all struc
Marked CHAPTER 66
The sun was still setting as Caleb and I approached Hawthorne’s house. The simple, red house was set back about 50 feet from the sidewalk, and with its walkway and bushes looked like any other small, suburban house. With its dark red paint and shutters, it had an antique simplicity about it. It was modest.Still, one could tell it was different. It exuded history.We both stood there, looking at it, and a silence fell over us.“I thought it would be bigger,” I said.Caleb stood there, furrowing his brows.“What’s wrong?”“I remember this house,” Caleb said. “I’m not sure from when. But I seem to remember it being somewhere else.”I looked at him, at his perfectly sculpted features, and marveled at how much he remembered. I wondered what it was like to remember so much. Hundreds of years—thousands. He was carrying around things, experiences, that I could never even dream of. I wondered if it was a blessing or a curse, and I wondered if I would even want that for myself.I took
Marked CHAPTER 67
We continued through the house, examining various objects, searching for something, anything. But as we finished searching the first floor, we came up empty.We both stopped before a narrow, wooden staircase. It was blocked by a velvet rope, on which hung a sign: “Private: upstairs for staff only.”Caleb gave me a look.“We’ve come this far,” he said.He reached over and unclasped the rope.Excited, I went first, my footsteps echoing on the hard, wooden staircase. The house creaked and groaned as we went, as if protesting its new visitors.The second floor of the house had even lower ceilings, barely high enough for Caleb to stand in. It was now almost dark, and there was just enough light to see by. We stood in a beautiful and cozy room, with wide plank wooden floorboards, six over six windowpanes, and tastefully decorated with period furniture. At its center was a brick fireplace with black stain around its edges, clearly worn from years of use.Greeting them at the top of the
Marked CHAPTER 68
I took the necklace off quickly, and together, my hand on his, we inserted it gently into the indent. I was ecstatic to see that it fit perfectly. It entered with a soft click, and as we gently turned it to the right, a narrow, vertical compartment opened.Heart pounding, I reached inside and gently extracted a frail scroll, yellowing, brittle. It was tied with an ancient piece of string, all but crumbling.I handed it to Caleb, and the two of us unrolled the scroll together.It was a map. Handwritten, hundreds of years old.At the top of the map, in a handwritten scrawl, it read: Elizabeth’s cottage.He looked up at me.“Her cottage,” he said, breathlessly. “It’s a map to where she lived.”I stared at it, in awe.“Whoever stored it here wanted you to be the one to find it. Your necklace was the key. And it’s never been opened until now. He wanted you to find this map, to find her cottage. Wherever it is, there will be something in it for you.”It was meant for me. For me, and
Marked CHAPTER 69
{KYLE’S POV}The clock struck midnight as Kyle descended down the marble staircase, flanked by two dozen of his minions.It had been a long night, and it had done gone far better than he had ever dreamed. Still, he dreaded greeting his master, Rexius, their coven leader. They had been together for thousands of years, and he knew that Rexius was not a man who suffered fools lightly. He had zero tolerance for mistakes, and Kyle had felt nervous ever since he’d let that girl, Caitlin, escape his grasp. Rexius always punished even the smallest transgression, and Kyle had been bracing himself, wondering when his punishment would come. He knew that Rexius was just biding his time, that he would never forget.Still, Kyle’s work had gone so spectacularly tonight, in every corner of the city, that Kyle couldn’t imagine how his master could remain upset with him. It should more than make up for such a small mistake. After all, they were in the midst of a historic moment in time, and Kyle wa
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