Chapter 22

Samantha and John followed Isabel out of the house, onto the porch. She paused for a moment at the steps, staring out into the growing darkness. Then, as if reaching a decision she decended the steps and started across the lawn toward the cliffs. A question passed silently between Samantha and John but they followed in silence.

The walk was longer than it looked. After crossing the lawn, they crossed the road that ran past the house and disappeared into the mountains. On the other side of the road, opposite the house was a gate in a railed fence surrounding the meadow Sam had noted earlier. They passed through the gate and walked through the meadow toward the darkness that was the sea.

The grass and wild flowers scented the breeze that flowed in from the water. Sam decided that she would let the meadow flowers bloom around her house next spring if they smelled like this. She looked up and the stars seemed to be close enough to touch.

Isabel slowed her pace and then stopped at another fence. Although there was a gate in it she didn't open this one. "Its safer if we stop here at night. The moon won't be up for an hour and in the darkness, you can't see the edge very clearly."

The three of them stood and looked out toward the mist. Without moonlight to infuse it, the mist was invisible. The shimmer of reflected starlight gave proof of a restless sea, surging against the blanket of darkness. Far below, Sam could hear waves crashing against the shore. Tonight, the sea was angry, the waves coming in rapidly and high. She could tell by the sound.

"Is there a way to the beach from here?" she asked.

"Farther along, to the north," Isabel pointed to her left, "there are stairs carved into the face of the cliffs. If you're very brave or very foolish, you can get down to the beach but it isn't worth the effort. It is a narrow beach with a tumble of boulders and rocky projections. You can't swim here because of the surf. It's too violent and the currents just here can take you down."

"They why would anyone carve stairs?"

"Oh... I suspect wreckers. Sometime, centuries ago. There is really no reason to have stairs at this point. Unless there was something down there once that has since washed away. But as I said, it is quiet hazardous for anyone to try and put ashore here."

John said, "But you've been down there?"

Samantha saw the gleam of her teeth as she smiled at them, "Yes, of course. You'll go down tomorrow, won't you?"

Neither of them replied. They already knew the answer.

"I didn't bring you out here to talk about the cliffs. I brought you here so we could talk without interruption, about why you have come."

"You know why we're here?" John asked.

Rather than answer, she looked at Samantha. "What do you see?"

Even though she had expected to be asked the question, Sam was still startled. "I. . . I don't. . . it isn't like that. I don't see anything. I sense it."

Isabel made a sound that resembled a snort. "Rubbish. Of course you see things. It's what brought you here."

Sam shook her head. "No, really," she insisted, "I just have this impending sense of something, of someone coming. I know that someone will be coming. Each time I've felt that, newcomers have arrived through the mist. I have done that since I was a child."

"How old were you the first time you remember? Six, seven?"

"Five," Samantha whispered.

"You sensed someone would arrive. But you dreamed too, didn't you?"

Sam shook her head. "No."

"Samantha, you must have dreamed."

John said, "You told me that they came ashore at the white beach in a Whitehall rowboat. How did you know that, Sam, if you didn't see it?"

She felt sick at her stomach and turned away to lean on the fence rail. The sounds of the waves match the roiling in her stomach. "I. . . it was the first time."

No one spoke and Sam finally turned back to face them. Isabel was watching her closely while John was watching Isabel. She wanted to go home, to lock her cabin door and crawl beneath her covers with Sergeant curled at her feet. She wanted to stay in bed for a week and not see anyone or talk to anyone or to think about anything. She didn't want to see the mist ever again.

She turned her back to the sea, balled her fist and through clenched teeth she said, "I HATE THIS! I can't leave it somewhere. I can't wash it off. I can't give it away. It follows me and it never stops pushing." She covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.

"Samantha," Isabel said, her voice low and calming. She took Samantha's wrist and tugged gently, pulling her hands away from her face, "listen to me! I understand how you feel. But you must listen to me. I can help you. Isn't that why you came here?"

Through her tears, Samantha looked at her aunt's face, barely discernable in the starlight. The compassion and understanding that she had so craved was all there. Her parents has loved her but there had never been a sense that they truly understood what was happening to her. But here, for the first time in her life, someone knew what she felt, what she thought, and what this gift had cost her. She sobbed and went into the outstretched arms of her aunt.

"On, Aunt Isabel, I'm so tired. I want it to stop. I don't understand it and I can't stop it." Once started, her tears seem to overflow and her whole frame shook with the force of her sobs. "I don't want to know anymore!"

Isabel let her cry until she had cried herself out. Finally, a handkerchief was pushed into her hand. She straightened and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to do that. It was foolish." She looked around. "Where's John?"

"He's gone inside. He left his handkerchief for you. And I think you should do the same. It's late and you've had a long day and a long journey. Tomorrow, we are going to sit down and talk about a lot of things. You need to be rested and refreshed."

She hooked her arm through Samantha's and together they headed back toward the house. "I've a suite in the turret for you. You'll have your own bath, with a bedroom area and a sitting area. If you want to be alone, you'll have everything you need right there."

"Thank you. You're being so kind to us. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

They moved up the steps onto the darkened porch. A lamp glowed from the living room window, creating a warm pool of light below it. Isabel stopped and looked in to Samantha's face with a smile.

"Yes, I do know. Someone was once kind to me." With that, she hugged Samantha and said, "Let me show you to your room. Tomorrow we have a lot of work to do."

She led Samantha up to the second floor and to the north end of the house where a set of double doors led into the second floor turret suite. Sam didn't take time to look around. She locked the doors behind her, change into her bed clothes and fell into the bed in front of the window that looked out onto the front lawn. The last thing she saw before she went to sleep was that the moon had risen and the mist glowed white in the moonlight, twisting and turning on the horizon.