"That's the only explanation I can come up with for a flashlight going 'poof’. Well, other than that it might be right in front of me. I miss things sometimes."
He chuckled. “Let's examine the ground around ourselves and see if it just rolled a few feet.”
They squatted down and patted the earth around themselves and about six feet out in each direction. The ground wasn’t flat, so the flashlight wouldn't have rolled far.
At last, they stood up and shrugged. "I guess we left it back in the twenty-first century," Freya said.
"You know, I didn't really think this would happen. But here we are. I guess we will need to continue and see if we can find the place you're looking for."
"Yes, there's nothing on the other side of the river that I can see by the light of the moon, but hopefully we’ll find some kind of footbridge to take us over to the other side, because that's where the jail is," Freya said.
“Brilliant. I can't imagine that they walked through the water all the time with their ox carts and horses. So yes, let's look for that bridge."
They strolled on in silence, still holding hands, and if Freya weren't mistaken, their hands had become clammy. Her nerves were on hyper-alert. She was about to ask if they should take the tasers out of the sack when the clop of horses’ hooves on wood carried to their ears from far away.
Devon stopped. He whispered, "Did you hear that?"
"Yes. I think it was a horse." Freya said.
"Let's stick to the shadows but continue in this direction," Devon whispered. "I have the feeling we may be about to come upon that bridge."
Freya did hope that's what they both heard. The night was cold, and she didn't want to go for a swim in the river in December.
“I don’t remember a bridge being here,” Freya said.
“Perhaps it wasn’t in our time.”
Freya took a deep breath. "Talking about our time while in some other timeline is crazy. How do we know we’re not in the future? Or even further back? This is just nuts.”
“I know what you mean. Listen…”
Freya paused. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly. The horse’s hooves aren’t making any noise. Either they crossed the bridge and are now on dirt, or…”
“Or what? It sprouted wings and flew the rest of the way?”
She couldn’t see Devon’s face, but she heard a low snicker.
Freya glanced behind her, as if the horseless rider were hiding, just waiting to sneak up on them.
“Let’s continue on. Quietly.”
Freya was almost afraid of the quiet. She could hear all her fears when nothing distracted her. She wished she could appreciate the unspoiled beauty of this place. Even just seeing the brilliant stars overhead without the light pollution of nearby streetlights and traffic should be appreciated. Instead, so much unknown danger dampened her experience.
At last, they did indeed come upon a wooden bridge. It curved up and over the river, leaving room for a boat or raft to float under it.
“It looks safe enough to cross,” Devon whispered.
“If a horse made it, I guess we will.”
Still holding his hand, Freya lifted her long skirt with her other hand, so she didn’t trip over the hem as they walked up the slight incline. She tried to see the opposite side, but there was little to see. A curved dirt road disappeared around dense woods.
She took a fortifying breath and straightened her back. “I can do this. We can do this.”
He answered by squeezing her hand, which she took to mean,“Yes, I agree, but we should remain silent now.”
As much as she needed his reassuring voice and banter, she knew he was right. Freya wished that she had brought blankets for her grandmother and sister when they found them, but if they didn’t get them out, that would only prove that they were witches, because they didn't have blankets before. The locals would assume they’d conjured them.
