Chapter 8

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Alex looks over the journals spread before him and ponders their meaning. He is no longer trying to decode them; there’s no more need, now that he can speak to their author. His thoughts have become more philosophical. How much can such a record actually contain? Historians rely on primary sources, but there is no better source than the person themselves. Of course, history rarely works so conveniently. Mysterious people who vanished long ago don’t tend to suddenly reappear in mirrors. Still, the journals look different now. Now that he’s seen the person who wrote them. And exchanged words with her. Even if those words were just a demand to speak to Charlotte instead.

Amelia Earhart was a person. She probably had opinions on gender relations and interacted with men and women differently. She might have enjoyed a certain type of music or had a favorite afternoon snack. And she had a voice and a demeanor and all the things that he saw (mostly heard) from Lily and Minerva last night.

So what are these journals? They’re still a treasure trove of unanswered questions, which he hopes Minerva will be willing to answer tonight. But they’re only that. He’s spent a short lifetime immersing himself in books and documents and codes, like they were history itself. They seem so much less tangible than they did days ago.

What does all this mean for his career? Magic is never an academically accepted answer to explain historical events. Is he going to have to do his work, knowing that the answers all could be beyond what academia will ever accept? Maybe the Roanoke Colony was erased by a spell. It now seems genuinely possible.

He feels a chill in his body at the thought that he may forever have to be silent about what he knows. But then, he thinks about what this means for history itself. How many doors it opens to ancient puzzles, and how many new puzzles to be solved that it creates. The world is so much more beautiful and enchanting than he’d once thought. Too bad academia would never know.

The door creaks and Charlotte steps in. She may have details to share with him, and if anything is going to settle his mind, it’ll be tonight’s party, when he gets to interact with history itself. She walks casually to the bed, leaving a foot dangling over the edge. It’s a looseness he’s not used to seeing in her. “Come here, baby,” she says. He lays down next to her.

“All planned up?”

“The girls are going to take care of everything. I told them you’d want a party exactly like the ones they used to have in the 1920s.”

“So it’s going to be exactly like a classic Lotus Valley party? That’s so cool!” He pulls her in for a tight hug and she melts. “Are you excited?”

“Kind of nervous, actually. You know I get a little tense at parties. And if this is a party like the ones we saw on Netflix, I’ll be a little out of place. I’m not like Mel and Toby.”

She sighs, and Alex rolls to his side and touches her shoulder. “Maybe you just have to see.”

“Yeah, I know. I found out about England. Minerva wanted to start a Lotus Valley in Europe. She wanted to spread the whole thing everywhere. That was her dream.

“Oh, shit, yeah. That absolutely makes sense with all the mentions of England. That’s fucking sad, what happened to them. She wanted to make this whole thing, like, global?”