Roanoke
By Lacey52
.o.O.o.o.O.o.
A note: Well, things are starting to happen, we're going places, seeing things! Can't wait to continue writing this, it's just so much fun! I am going to try to apologize for it taking so frickin' long to get this out…but that would just waste what little time I have to write! Onwards!
.o.O.o.o.O.o.
Chapter Six: Findings
.o.O.o.o.O.o.
Sam wasn't quite sure where she was. Apart from the few expeditions that she and the boys had made when they were younger, they had never finished mapping out the ghost zone, and this was definitely a part that they had yet to reach. In her rush she had forgotten one of the most important rules that the original trio had set out for themselves, or rather for herself and Tucker. Never go into the ghost zone alone.
She had also forgotten to grab the map's that Frostbite had given them from Danny's room. She hadn't the time.
Sam shook her head as she began scanning for real world items. They would more than likely lead her to some ghost who might be able to point her in the right direction. They'd probably want to fight, too, but that would just have to take a back seat at the moment. She had other things on her mind.
'Okay, this was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done,' Sam's eyes were frantically scanning her surroundings for threats, 'I can't believe I didn't wait for someone…Tucker is going to kill me when I get back. If I get back at all.'
She stopped the specter speeder and lay her head against the steering wheel, sighing deeply, "I am so screwed."
"Screwed?" a friendly voice wavered through the vehicle to her, "What does this mean young Samantha?"
"Dora!" Sam's eyes widened as she pulled her head up to find the princess hovering in front of her craft, "What are you doing out here?"
"I'm not too far from my castle holding," she answered with a smile, "but please what is 'screwed'?"
"It means in terrible trouble with no chance of help," Sam tipped her head to a side as she considered the ghost in front of her, "or at least I thought I was. We aren't far from where you live?"
"Not at all," she turned to point off to her left, "It is only a few minutes flight from here. But why are you here, with no one at your side?"
"I made a decision," she smiled to herself, "and it was really stupid, but at least I made it."
"I…see," the ghost cocked her head to the side, watching the small girl before her, "What decision did you finally make?"
"Nothing important," Sam waved her off, wanting to get to something a bit more important, "I know I was really annoying a couple of years ago, asking about…Danny, all the time, and I know you'll probably be mad at me again, but…have you seen him lately?"
"I have not," Dora sadly shook her head, "Samantha, you should not dwell on lovers lost."
"We weren't," Sam started to blush and stutter, "I mean, I cared for him, but we never…er…"
Gentle laughter stopped her rambling, as Dora's amulet began to glow. Transformation complete, the dragon took a hold of the Specter's nose, and turned it slightly, "My home is in this direction if you care to go. You will be well received."
"I don't think I have time," Sam fought off the last of her blushing, "I really need to find someone who can help me. Dora, do you know anyone around here who could help me…I'd even be willing to talk to Desiree right now, no matter how twisted she might make my wish."
"I'm afraid I cannot," she answered as she began to look around uneasily, "but I can tell you that you must leave, as it is swiftly becoming more dangerous in this area. Fly south, and hopefully you will meet a friend. Fare thee well, and good luck young one."
And once again, Sam was alone, though with direction this time. She flew south, as directed, and pondered the entire time on Dora's behavior, 'Why in the world is it becoming more dangerous? That just doesn't make any sense, especially coming from a dragon who happens to be one of the more powerful ghosts in the area…'
Several minutes' flight later found Sam steering wildly, trying to dodge the dangerously glowing rockets launched from Skulker's shoulder, "Leave me alone, freak! I was just passing through, and I'm not even your normal prey!"
"You were trespassing, and that's reason enough for me to start the hunt. I haven't had anything to hunt lately, and you're challenge enough for me."
"How the hell was I supposed to know that the middle of frickin' nowhere actually belonged to someone when there's nothing there!"
Needless to say, she was momentarily grateful when someone wrapped Skulker in ecto-ropes. But only momentarily as she watched Walker materialize in front of her, "You are a real-world creature, bringing real-world items into the ghost zone. You are in violation of twenty-nine different laws and will be sentenced immediately to three thousand years of imprisonment. Do I make myself clear?"
"Why today?" Sam gently rubbed her forehead before looking into the skull-like face looming before her, "Listen Walker, you can't touch me anyways and your prison can't hold me, so why try? I'm leaving anyways."
Walker could only watch, shame faced, as she scooted out of his sector, "Stupid brats."
.o.O.o.o.O.o.
Three hours, forty minutes, and thirty seven seconds later found Sam lazily drifting in the mysterious currents that seemed to continuously ebb through the ghost zone. In that time she had seen seventeen ghosts, four of which she didn't know and only two of which were friendly.
None of them had seen Danny, but the two friendly ghosts had pointed her further south. Poindexter had even offered to accompany her, as it was only right for a boy to offer. She had politely refused and was now enjoying her momentary peace.
"I could have been working on my project right now," Sam whined to no one in particular, "Plus it was Caesar salad day in the cafeteria, plus we get out early on Fridays, plus Tucker is seriously going to rip me a new one when and if I get back. I'm bloody brilliant for doing this."
She had been shot at, nearly mauled, talked to, annoyed, pestered, scared half to death, and still she was no closer than she had been two years ago, even though she felt like she was so close, 'Maybe you really did lose it, and it was all just a hallucination. Way to go Sam, you've finally gone off your rocker.'
Pity party aside, she felt like she was doing rather well for being alone, lost, unarmed, and about to crash into a giant castle.
'Wait a second,' Sam's eyes widened as she slowly turned her head back to the area she had last scanned over, 'A giant what?'
Her panicking made her suddenly feel silly though as she remembered that real world items tended to float through the walls of ghostly abodes.
The jarring crash had her amending her thoughts.
Most real world items tended to float through most ghostly abodes, with exceptions being Dora's castle and a few other, particular places. Apparently this one was one of those places.
The castle was looming, and a little more than ominous. The young woman wasn't totally sure that this was something she wanted to crash into, and began to make ready to flee when a quiet chuckle came from the seat beside her. It sounded friendly, but that didn't necessarily mean that it was. She swallowed hard, then held her breath, listening for the entity beside her. She only received another chuckle for her trouble, and the sound of something…swishing. Or perhaps, changing somehow.
"I was wondering how much longer it would take before you ended up at my doorstep," a deep, soothing voice intoned beside her. It sounded neither young nor old, but rather timeless in an unnerving way that had Sam swiveling her head to look at just what was speaking.
The ghost before her was handsome, and then innocent, and then aged. She had found Clockwork, and no longer worried about just who's house she had crashed into. Father Time himself had known she was coming.
"I didn't exactly end up on your doorstep you know," she spoke cautiously, almost childlike in her awe of the ghost before her. She had always been fascinated by ghosts, but he was by far one of the most interesting she had ever laid eyes on. Why? Because she couldn't simply believe her was truly a ghost. He was the Master of Time. Nearer to a demigod than an ecto-plasmically based creature.
"No, but you did arrive," he smiled gently as he slipped between forms, hovering just over the seat beside her to give the appearance of sitting, "Would you care to come inside?"
"Please," she smiled back, though still nervously, 'I really hope I didn't make him mad…'
She was inside just as suddenly as she had crashed and wondered if perhaps he had caused her to crash. Sam had to shake the thought from her head before she started to think about time paradoxes and gave herself a headache. There were far more important things at hand.
"I know that time is of the essence young Samantha," his voice drew her attention to the rack of medallions he was standing near, "You should ask your question now."
'No use in trying for small talk I guess,' she frowned at his directness, "Have you seen Danny?"
"Yes."
She stood with her arms crossed, waiting impatiently for several minutes before she realized he was smirking at her and was going to wait until she asked another question, 'Stupid ghosts who like stupid games…I take back ever thinking he was closer to a demigod, just because he can control time...'
"Fine, I give," Sam glared heatedly, and as she spoke he moved forward with a medallion in hand, "Do you know where he is?"
"Yes," and the medallion was slipped over her head, "You do know that in history certain things must happen for other things to happen?"
"Um, yes?" Sam was confused as she was gently guided to one of the many portal-like devices he used to view Time.
"Then you know that in order for something to go correctly in one timeline, nothing must interfere with what will happen, or what has happened, or what is happening?" he pushed her the last step to the portal directly in front of her.
"I suppose," she turned back to look at the young, old, middle-aged ghost behind her, "but what's going on? Why won't you just tell me where Danny is?"
"In time, child," and Sam felt herself falling, floating, lingering in Time.
.o.O.o.o.O.o.
"A child," the voice coached Sam back into consciousness. It sounded…strange, almost accented and certainly not familiar.
"It is a witch child," another voice harshly spoke, "We must rid our village of this evil, as it has been too long plagued by such strange occurrences!"
"My head…" Sam groggily sat up, forcing the bile in her throat back down as her dizziness increased and the light from the sun blinded her.
"What is this, clear the way," a stronger voice demanded, "This most certainly is not the time to dally as we assuredly should be working as the Good Lord decrees. Be not still of hand brethren, and let the elders deal with what has befallen us this time."
" 'Tis a child," Sam caught the speaker this time, a young woman only a few years older than herself, but certainly looking more worn. The crowd parted for an older man, and Sam assumed he was the one she had heard, "But by the looks of her dress and the coloring she is a witch's child."
"Please," Sam begged, taking in the strange clothing of those around her and their strangely accented English, "I'm not a witch child."
"Then, pray tell, what manner of child are you, that you should appear so suddenly, from no where?" The man was looming over her now, eyeing her cautiously as the others who had surrounded her earlier started to move back to their work, "Speak child, else hold your tongue forever more."
"My name is Samantha, and I'm not sure how I got here. Where is here, anyways?"
"You are in the town of Roanoke, established colony of Her Majesty, the Queen, in the newly found lands to the west," he looked down on her more seriously, "If you are not a witch's child, why are you in such clothing, and how did you come to be here?"
"I honestly don't know," She pulled herself up onto her knees, then shakily stood, her hands sliding up around her neck as she felt the weight of the medallion pull her down, 'Oh dear God…'
"You speak strangely child, but as you are a woman and yet young to be alone, I will give you one last chance to answer my questions, or you shall face the perusal of the town's council," she looked to him sharply and began to notice a certain pleading in his eyes, "Be ye a witch's child, or be ye not?"
"Not, most assuredly," Sam's mind began to frantically scramble for an explanation that these people would accept, "It was an unearthly woman who did this to me!"
She had everyone's attention at this proclamation, and pulling on her knowledge that she had garnered through her research Sam played it for all she was worth, "She dressed me in these terrible clothes and told me I would be a sacrifice. Before she could…harm me, I prayed that I could escape her evil…clutches and then I was here. I don't…eh, do not know how it happened."
"This child has been bewitched!"
"Perhaps she is a witch's spy!"
"The spy of a devil!"
"Let us not get ahead of ourselves," the man offered her his cloak hastily so she could cover herself, and for some reason Sam found herself fighting a blush because she was so indecently dressed in their eyes. A woman in pants, that was truly a scandal in these days.
'In these days,' the thought passed with deadly silence through her mind, as all other thoughts withered, 'Clockwork sent me back in time, to Roanoke of all places. At least I know something about where I'm at though…'
"Child," she was gently shaken by the shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts, "You are still under duress, but it is nearly night and you must be taken to shelter."
"Will I be staying with someone?" Sam was starting to like this man, though she wasn't sure why. He was in charge, he knew what was going on, he was being kind, and for some reason his face was familiar.
"Regrettably, no one will take you in for the night, and you would never be permitted to stay with any unmarried man," he frowned slightly, and Sam feared the worst.
'Great, out into the woods I go to fend for myself,' she began to drag her feet in slight retaliation, 'Or worse, I'll be forced to sleep outside in plain sight or something.'
"You will be staying in the empty stables for this night, and the next few nights until you prove your trustworthiness and arrangements are made," she found herself staring at the ugly, shoddily built barn, "It is better than nothing child, and the Good Lord always doth provide for those in need."
"Of course," she replied tersely and entered, only to have the doors swiftly shut behind her, "Of course…"
.o.O.o.o.O.o.
"Take the medallion off, go who knows where," Sam held up one hand as the moonlight filtered in through a badly fitted board, "Or, leave it on, because Clockwork very obviously sent me here for a reason. Who knew ghosts would actually help me get my homework done for once…"
She was bored, and she hated being bored, but Sam had little else to do and no where else to go, 'Might as well stay in one spot and let whatever happens happen. Worse comes to worse I take the medallion off and probably end up home or at least back at Clockwork's place.'
"I wonder if this is the first or second colony," she had found that talking to herself relieved at least some of the boredom, "If it's the first I'll probably die of a disease…and if it's the second then it's either death by ghost or alien."
An eye roll indicated just how inclined she was to believe the alien theory. Boredom did not become her, and the hay was starting to itch, causing her to rise to her knees out of it. It was fast becoming one of the worst experiences of her young life, "…Though I suppose it's not that bad…it could be worse…"
"Yeah," a voice spoke directly into her ear from behind her, the chill of the air sweeping over her causing her to shiver violently from both cold and fear, "There could be ghosts about…"
She didn't even have time to suck in a breath to scream as she was roughly shoved forward, her own momentum flipping her so she landed on her back, bruising already abused muscles. She was dazed, for the second time that day, and distractedly wondered if perhaps she too had gained a concussion.
"Little girls shouldn't be playing in the barn this late," the eerie voice echoed around her as something began to materialize, "They might find monsters like me…"
Red eyes, blood red and horrible and intense. Shock white hair, with black tingeing the edges and around the creature's head, almost in a band where it was cut short. Black clothes, black boots, black gloves, black cloak, black staff with a scythe-curved blade. Red, and white, and black, and Sam couldn't breath. She honestly thought she was going to die, right then, right there.
'His colors were never red, black, and white,' her mind began running in circles as this abomination wearing her Danny's face stepped forward into the waning moonlight and Sam slunk further into the shadows, pulling in on herself for greater protection, "His colors were black and silver."
Shock had set in and she numbly watched as the being stopped advancing at her voiced thought, held up a glowing green hand, and actually looked at her as she was bathed in the strange, green light.
"Not anymore," recognition lit his eyes, his words caught roughly in his throat, and the light went out from his hand, plunging them back into darkness, "Not for a long time…Sam."
There wasn't even time to scream before a hand clamped over her mouth, and Sam knew exactly what her greatest fear was. She had just never dreamed it to be the boy she loved.