The Curse Keepers Collection (120 page)

I shook my head. “Don’t think like that. I need you, David. And not just for this.” I pointed to the door to the climate-controlled room. “I need
you
. When I feel like this situation is completely hopeless, you make me believe I can actually do it. That we actually have a chance.”

“We
do
.” He leaned down and gave me a soft kiss.

“That’s just it,” I murmured as he pulled away. “That’s why I need you. You have enough faith for both of us.”

Penelope cleared her throat as she reappeared. “I think you left out an important piece of information about Ms. Lancaster.”

David laughed. “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Anything concerning your love life is important. Especially after Dr. Moran.”

David stiffened slightly and cast a glance in my direction, but I offered him a reassuring smile. So Penelope knew about David’s old girlfriend. It wasn’t really a surprise, since they’d dated for a year.

She led us into the room, where a document lay on a tray on a metal table. “You know the rules. I don’t think I need to go over them again.”

David sat down in front of the document, already enthralled.

“I’m not supposed to leave you alone with this, but if I can’t trust you, I’m not sure there’s anyone I can trust. I need to go check on something, but I’ll be right back.”

David grunted his acknowledgment.

Penelope chuckled as she walked past me. “He gets like that when he’s reading these old things. I love when someone appreciates these antiquities as much as I do.”

I watched her leave, then sank into the chair next to David’s, worried about disturbing him. But he reached over and placed his hand on my lap for a moment before turning back to his reading.

Penelope came back in the room just as David sat upright, groaning. “This isn’t it.”

“What are you looking for?” she asked, moving closer and resting her hand on the back of his chair.

“I remember coming across a letter from an English settler, dating back to the late 1600s, that tells about a Croatan conjurer who created two weapons to defeat demons.”

The archivist’s forehead wrinkled. “What else did it discuss?”

“It seems like it was a letter sent from a man in the Albemarle colony to his sister up in Jamestown. It mostly discussed his daily life as a farmer, but he also shared this story with her.”

“Hmm.” Penelope murmured. “I may know where to look, but I’m not sure I can find it today.”

“Okay,” David said, disappointment in his voice.

“But there’s another one that might be helpful too, and this one’s easier to retrieve. I take it you’re looking for something pertaining to the Croatan and a conjurer? It’s another letter, from the same area, but pertaining to the proprietor Seth Sothel and his harsh rule over the colonists. It dates back to the 1680s if I remember correctly. I believe there’s mention of a Croatan conjurer.”

David’s forehead wrinkled. “You would think I’d remember that.”

“It’s fairly new. Just added to the collection via a private donation a couple of months ago.”

David shot me a look before turning back to Penelope. “It’s definitely worth looking at. Thank you.”

“No problem. Let me just put this away and I’ll pull it for you.”

David and I waited in the room while the archivist took the document away.

“Do you think it’s a coincidence that the letter showed up right before the curse broke?” I whispered.

“No,” was his terse reply.

“Why are you so upset?”

“I know I should be grateful that this might answer some of our questions, but I hate being a pawn of the gods.”

Closing my eyes, I released a heavy sigh. “I know. And it’s becoming more and more obvious that that’s exactly what we are.”

His hand covered mine again. “We’re in this together.” His touch was comforting, but it reminded me of my moment at the beach with Collin. If only I could sever my attraction to him entirely.

Penelope returned about twenty minutes later with the document. She set it in front of David. “Like I said, this is a fairly new addition.”

“Do you know who donated the letter?”

“Not offhand. It came from a private collection and was the only letter donated. Usually they come in groups. It’s also unusual in that we had little advance notice that it was coming. It’s almost as though it just dropped from the sky.”

David shot me a glance before turning back to the letter. “I’m eager to take a look.”

Penelope nodded and then moved to the corner of the room to give us some privacy. David read for a couple of minutes before he sat upright, his eyes alight with excitement.

“Did you find something?” I whispered.

He turned to me and gave me a hard kiss on the mouth before leaning back, grinning with excitement.

“Ellie, this changes everything.”

C
HAPTER
N
INE

“What does it say?”

He cast a glance at Penelope, who was still standing in the corner of the room and was clearly dying with curiosity.

“It has the information we needed and so much more.”

The words were obviously bursting to be released, but I could tell that he didn’t want to talk about it in front of the archivist.

“So this letter was helpful?” she asked, prodding.

“More so than you can know.”

“Well . . . ?”

“It talks about a Croatan conjurer who spoke to demons at the gate to Popogusso.”

Penelope smiled. “So it’s a legend.”

David hesitated. “It reads as though this man witnessed the event, which of course is ludicrous,” he added. “But it corroborates another story I’ve heard.”

“From the other letter?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Yes.”

“I take it that you still want to see it?” Penelope asked. “I can leave a note for Sylvia that you’ll be in to view it tomorrow afternoon.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” He pulled out his phone and started to take photos of the text—flash off, of course—while Penelope watched. After he examined the photos, he told her that he was done and picked up his bag.

Penelope could obviously tell that he wasn’t being straightforward, but she seemed to be willing to let it go.

“There’s another document you might be interested in,” she said as she started to take the letter away. She paused and looked up at him with a smug smile. “If you’re interested in stories about Croatan demons and gods, that is.”

David’s head jerked up.

“I’m a resource, David,” she said, using his first name. “Use me.”

“You’re right, Penelope. Thanks.”

“It’s a handwritten book of sorts, quite unusual. It tells the story of an Englishman and a Croatan warrior who had a confrontation one night. It mentions demons and the gate to hell.”

“Why haven’t I heard about this one either?”

She shrugged. “It’s anecdotal. There’s some argument over whether it’s even legit.”

“And what was the conclusion?”

“There wasn’t one. The paper was determined to be old enough, but the ink that was used was unconventional for the time period.”

“And what time period was that?”

“Mid-eighteenth century. The manuscript was dated.”

“And I take it that I can’t read it until tomorrow.”

She grinned.

“Okay,” he said. “Can you add it to the list?”

“You got it.”

We left the room and David grabbed my hand, practically dragging me outside the library.

“Okay,” I said, barely able to contain myself. “What did you find?”

“Let’s go to my office. I want to upload these photos and show you.”

While I could see the wisdom in that, and I knew we shouldn’t be talking about this out in the open, I was dying to know. “So it’s good?”

“It’s better than good. It’s the best we could hope for.”

Thankfully, his office building was practically behind the library. He pulled his keys out as we climbed the stairs to the second floor and had the door open within seconds. The room was small, less than eight feet wide. There was a window with vinyl blinds in the outside wall, and a wooden desk sat against the wall, perpendicular to the door. There was a tall metal file cabinet next to the desk.

“I guess you get a proper look at it this time, huh?” he said as he shut the door behind us and sat in his office chair. He opened a drawer and pulled out a cord to hook his phone to his computer.

“It’s so weird,” I said, looking around. “I was with you the last time you were here. As you were getting ready to leave.” I had come to see him two months ago. He’d been packing for Manteo at the time, though I hadn’t realized that. At first he’d thought I was an overzealous undergrad who was trying to get into one of his intro classes. “I bet those poor girls who moved mountains to get into your class are beyond devastated to find out you weren’t their instructor after all.”

He laughed, sounding embarrassed. “I’m mortified when I think about how incredibly rude I was to you that day.”

“You were pretty bad. But I’ll let it go if you tell me what you found in that letter.” The suspense was starting to eat at me.

I perched on the edge of his desk as he started the photo upload.

“Parts were a bit smudged, but I was able to make out most of it. The man who wrote this letter was a farmer from the Albemarle colony in northern North Carolina. He came down from Jamestown with a group who started a settlement along the Albemarle Sound in the mid-1600s. The note we found from your father said your ancestors went to Jamestown and then down to Albemarle with the initial colonists. In any case, this man—George—was part of a scouting expedition.”

“So this George is one of my ancestors?”

He glanced up, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so, and I’ll tell you why in a second.” He picked up an ink pen and pointed the end at his screen. “It says here that there had been some skirmishes with the natives, and the colonists decided to take the offensive and scout for any hostile parties. They took three boats and set out on the sound. After a long day on the water, they landed on an island and started to look around, but something spooked George’s friends and they took off without him. Soon after they left, the sun went down. George was worried, but he figured his friends would come back. There was a new moon, though, so he knew they wouldn’t be able to retrieve him until morning. He decided to walk around the perimeter of the island and he came upon two boats—one obviously native, the other English. Worried, he pushed into the woods until he heard voices and saw a fire in the distance. While he was hiding in the trees, he saw a Native American man and an Englishman deep in the forest. The native was conducting a ceremony of some kind while the Englishman stood to the side and watched.

“There were multiple circles and markings on the ground. The native—George calls him a conjurer—had a spear in his hand, along with something else. He smeared his own blood on the objects, and then a huge storm rolled in out of nowhere. He said the trees shook violently, but the conjurer and the Englishman paid no attention, and the conjurer continued his chant. Suddenly something appeared in front of an oak tree—a gate.” David scrolled to the next photo and enlarged it, then read: “ ‘All manner of beasts and demonic creations were trapped behind the massive gate. The air was filled with wailing and moaning and screaming pleas to be set free.’ ”

My mouth gaped. “He saw Popogusso? When was this written?”

“1687.”

“A hundred years after the curse? How is that possible?” I tried to make sense of it. “So he had to be on Roanoke Island.”

“Agreed.”

“You said this was good. There must be more.”

David spun his chair around so he could look up at me. “George wrote that while the conjurer ignored the demons and spirits, the Englishman looked frightened. Then one of the demons—a man with black hair that was long on one side and short on the other, who was dressed in native attire—grabbed the bars and shouted at the men.”

“Okeus,” I breathed out in a gush. That was how he’d looked when he’d passed through the gate the night Collin let the demons loose.

David nodded and then turned back to the computer and pulled up another photo, reading the text on the screen. “He shouted, ‘Conjurer! Give up this madness. Find your fellow Croatan brother, the Manteo Keeper, and have him join with the Dare Keeper to open the gate. If you do this, I will offer you great rewards.’ ”