Chapter 8: Echoes of the Past

The storm had passed, leaving Silverridge’s fog a gentle veil, curling through the valleys with a soft whisper. Amy and Suzanne rested in the cabin, bodies entwined from their intense union, but a faint shimmer in the air suggested the Veil’s lingering presence, like a thin place not fully sealed. Amy’s arm throbbed from the wound, bandaged but a reminder of the battle’s cost. {We won, but the Veil feels closer than ever. What if it’s not over?}Suzanne traced the talisman on Amy’s neck, its pulse faint but persistent, “This thing—Alice’s gift—it saved us. But why does it hum like that?” They discussed its power, Suzanne recognizing Veil energy in its glow, hinting at a connection.

They pored over books and Alice’s mojo bag, researching more on thin places and hoodoo. Amy recalled Alice’s words about ancestors walking between places, prompting them to delve into Appalachian Black history. The journals Alice mentioned surfaced in Amy’s mind, and she suggested contacting Alice for more. Suzanne hesitated, her jealousy lingering, but agreed, recognizing the talisman’s role. {Alice’s heritage might be key. But reaching out—will it reopen wounds?}Alice called unexpectedly, her voice resolute. “Amy, I’ve been reading nana’s journals. There’s stuff about ‘veil-walkers’—escaped slaves using liminal paths in the mountains, blending hoodoo with Cherokee lore to cross unseen. The talisman—it’s tied to that power.” Alice shared details, her ancestors navigating spiritual thresholds during the Underground Railroad, using charms to ward off pursuers from between worlds. This tied hoodoo to the Veil, explaining the talisman’s amplification of Suzanne’s power. {Her family guarded thin places too? This connects us all.}The conversation was emotional, Alice’s pain evident but her strength shining, as she vowed to explore further, perhaps uncovering her own abilities.