Page 8 of Hallows End

It’s actually not unusual for the townspeople of Salem to see and interact with me, as I’ve gone into town often over the past three hundred and thirty years, but I went under the cloak of darkness last night. I needed a walk to gather my thoughts and try to set my mind at ease.

But my mind is never atease.

It hasn’t been for the entirety of those three-hundred-plus years.

With that said, I don’t know why I think that taking a simple walk at night will work to soothe my soul, but I try all the same—and often.

I’ve never been spotted as I move between worlds before.

Until her.

With flaming red hair, porcelain skin lit up in the moonlight, and a green robe that billowed around her, she looked like something I might have conjured in my mind.

Something I would have wished for a hundred times over.

A wish that I knew could never come to be.

And yet, there she was, and I was pulled to her as though I knew her. As though mysoulknew hers. It was a visceral reaction that left me shaken all night and well into the morning.

Is it possible that a change is coming?

I’m hesitant to let myself hope. I’d had no idea all those years ago when I assured Louisa that everything would be okay, that we’d still be caught up in the curse centuries later.

If I had known, would I have taken the same path?

It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times, and I never have a definitive answer.

Because I just don’t know how all of this will end.

It’s early in the day as I walk through Hallows End. We live under constant cloud cover, casting the village in a dreary, gray pall. I’m the only one from Hallows End to have seen the sun since 1692. The clouds occasionally part some nights so we can see the moon and stars, but even those moments are fleeting.

It frustrates me to no end that I’ve seen the changes in technology and know the people I care about work harder than they need to. We have no running water, no electricity, and no refrigeration. Those things alone would ease the burdens of this village tremendously.

But I can’t tell them about any of it.

And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. They would forget everything by the next new moon anyway.

“Brother Jonas,” Louisa says with a happy smile and a wave. She’s holding a bushel of lavender, freshly picked from her garden. “The herbs and flowers are still growing so well this autumn. I know that we all grow weary of the gloomy sky and rain, but the crops are happy.”

“’Tis been a rainy autumn to be sure,” I agree, as I always do. Goddess, how I miss her. How I wish I was able to confide in her the way I once could. “You are right. The crops will thrive with the added moisture. Your lavender is beautiful.”

“Chamomile and parsley are coming along, as well,” she says with a nod. “I’ll make some more parsley oil for you and the apothecary. The Stebbins boy had an earache two weeks past, and I would not want any infection to return.”

“I know Mrs. Stebbins will be grateful,” I reply. “Thank you, Louisa.”

I wave and smile as I pass through the village. I walk this same path every morning, making sure that nothing has changed. That everything is as it should be.

“Good morning, Jonas,” Alistair Goode says with a warm smile. Alistair is the town mayorandthe Christian minister. As such, I stay on his good side, but I do not trust him. There was a time that he would have led a mob to hang me—and others like me.

“Alistair,” I say with a nod. “Good day.”

I continue through town, and when I’m sure that nothing is amiss, I let my shoulders relax.

“Are you looking for something in particular today, Jonas?”

My heart stutters at the sound of Alistair’s voice behind me, but I school my features and turn to the other man with a congenial smile.

“Not at all. I am just out for a walk to take in the fresh air before we get more rain.”