The Pearl and the Unseen Eye

Chapter One

Abigail Callaghan grinned at her success in creating the time-travel device she had made.

It could transport you through space and time, which was quite convenient. Only one problem…it didn't always go to the time or place you desired.

Like now. She was in her home country of America, when she had intended to go to Renaissance Italy. Only this wasn't America yet. Well, not the United States anyway.

She was in Virginia in 1607. And a English settler who declared himself to be called Thomas had stopped her.

"You dress a little funny, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat to her. "When did you arrive here?"

At least that's the way it sounded to Abigail's ears, though she knew that he was actually using the English of early seventeenth century, which wasn't long after Shakespeare had written his last play.

Shakespeare was still alive in this time period, but for the last several years of life he hadn't written a thing. Abigail had had to research him for an English class at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology. Her boyfriend, Tadashi, had to study on Norwegian princesses for a related humanities course. Abigail had hoped to take him back in time to meet those princesses, well, after one became queen, because before that time she wouldn't allow Tadashi to be in the castle…he'd be seen an enemy before anything happened.

It's funny when you miss your mark by a hundred and fifty years when time-traveling and end up on a completely different continent from the one you intended. That was the predicament Abigail now found herself in. And she was dressed like a woman in 1454 Milan, not 1607 Virginia before it was Virginia.

"Sorry for my clothing, good sir," Abigail said, curtseying and wanting to vomit at her behavior. But the goal of time-travel was to not draw attention to yourself, and Thomas would think her awkward if she didn't curtsey. "I'm waiting for my proper gowns to be sent from England."

"It's nice to see a woman here," Thomas said. "Don't get me wrong. I miss my wife and kids. But I had to come here, so that we could have a better life ultimately."

"There are Native American women."

"Those aren't women," Thomas said. "They're savages."

"Be glad that you are dealing with a less ruthless tribe than some of those west of the Appalachian Mountains," Abigail said, only realizing too late that the mountains might not have their name by 1607.

"What do you know about Indians?" Thomas asked.

"Just that they are people too."

"People? They don't understand culture, or concepts like gold. They have no concept of God, only their spirits. Radcliffe can't get them to say a sensible word, and he's the best negotiator of our troop. Er, other than John Smith, of course."

"Of course," Abigail said, wishing Thomas would go away. She had to search for the rope that would take her out of here, which was part of her time-travel device's mechanism. But it vanished whenever you landed, so that you had to seek it out on your own.

"Look, miss," said Thomas. "I've got to go."

"I don't want to detain you," Abigail said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Look, if you ever need an escort, just ask around for Thomas. I'll be happy to comply with your needs."

"Thanks."

"What's your name, by the way?" Thomas asked, tipping his hat to her once more.

"It's Abigail," she said, feeling there was no point in lying to someone in the long distant past.

"Abigail," said he. "I'll rememeber that."

Then he turned to clamber up a hill, looking back at her twice more before disappearing from view.

Abigail then began searching fro the rope. It wasn't in any of the nearby trees. Or behind a boulder she saw nearby. It wasn't hanging on a fallen tree, which looked as though it had been struck by lightning.

Then she spotted something in the water on a ridge down below. On closer examination she discovered it to be the very rope she was searching for.

Figuring out how to retrieve it took a few minutes, but she finally settled on fetching it by snagging on a makeshift birch-rod she had fashioned out of tree bark.

It took her nearly six minutes to get the rope out of the water and then toss it in the air and have it wrap around herself as her time device went off with the coordinates she had already selected.

Just as she was about to leave that time period, however, a body slammed hard into her.

It was a Native American woman, quite pretty, but who gazed upon Abigail with fear.

By the time Abigail had any means of communicating with this young woman, they were in a more future date, though looking around Abigail quickly realized that it wasn't her own time.

A Ford pickup track was pacrked in front of a school. There were a couple of other cars, a Chevy and a Volvo.

The Native American teenage seemed less happy about her predicament than Abigail would have surmised she would.

"Where am I?" the Native American woman asked.

"Well, the only correct answer to that is a very bad place," said Abigail. "We're in a place called Forks, Washington."

"That place name means nothing to me," said the woman.

"No, uh….it's not that. Er, well, this place used to be a venue for vampires and werewolves. I just hope they've moved on at the time period we've landed in."

"Uh, what did you say? None of the words you said make sense to me."

"Well," said Abigail, licking her lips. "Are there bad spirits you believe in, who might induce people to do awful things?"

"No," Nakoma said. "Spirits provide the harvest, make life good for us. Or at least they did before pale faces showed up. Uh, no offense."

"None taken," said Abigail. "But vampires and werewolves are wicked spirits who want to harm others, except without letting the human race in general know they exist."

"Is that so?" said a strong voice. A boy with a scar on his cheek appeared. "I thought I smelled the blood of two lovely teenage girls."

"I'm twenty-one," said Abigail. "So you've got some nerve calling me a teenager."

"Eh, close enough. Either way, your blood probably is sumptuous."

Nakoma looked in confusion from Abigail to the boy. She didn't have a language implant, so she didn't know what was being said.

"I'm warning you, Nakoma and I are fairly dangerous," Abigail said, without much conviction in her voice.

"Is that so? Well, I can use a feast of dangerous blood."

And with that he pounced on Abigail, gripping her with his powerful arms so that she couldn't break free (he wasn't muscular by appearance but she knew that vampires possessed superstrength), and then suddenly he exuded an aura which calmed Abigail down in her struggles, and she became apathetic, losing her will to fight against the mesmerizing calmness he pervaded over her…

His fangs sank into Abigail's neck, piercing it with two drills, and her blood was being slurped p by this incredibly handsome fellow, and she fell limp, thinking of the name Tadashi but discovering that she couldn't place a face to it…

"You're next," the vampire rasped to Nakoma, become launching himself at her and biting her neck with a fierceness unlike that which he had utilized on Abigail…

Then he reeled backward, spluttering. "Ick, ick, ick! Werewolf blood. I'd be happier killing you off."

He raised a rock and hurled it at Nakoma's chest. Abigail, lying immobile on her side, watched with horror as the stone flew straight at Nakoma, and she was certainly it would kill her…

But Nakoma sprouted fur and shrank in stature. The rock whizzed over her head, and she was left unscathed. Then she gave off a brief howl before trotting away. The vampire tossed three more stones her way but they all missed, that last one landing right in front of her left hindpaw, the second having only brushed against her tail, doing no damage.

"Blast," said the vampire. "All my kind would've sung praises in my name had I killed her. I suppose I'll just have to try harder next time, won't I?" he said, grinning at Abigail.

Then he sped away, leaving her thtere in her gloom. Until her heart pumped out enough blood that she could think clearly again, she was stuck here. And what if another vampire came along and decided they wanted to dine on her? More blood being drawn might kill her.

She hadn't known Nakoma was a werewolf. She should probably have asked, but Nakoma didn't seem to know the word. And now Abigail couldn't protect this girl whom she had brought back to the early twenty-first century. Not that a werewolf needed as much protection as a young woman with half her blood gone who had time-and-space traveled to a place where a coven of vampires lived, that wasn't that far away from a werewolf pack…