Shadow of Samhain

Shadow of Samhain

by

Dawn Colclasure

All rights reserved

Copyright © September 15, 2013, Dawn Colclasure

Cover Art Copyright © 2013, Charlotte Holley

Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

Lockhart, TX

www.gypsyshadow.com

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN: 978-1-61950-127-0

Published in the United States of America

First eBook Edition: October 19, 2013

Dedication

This book is dedicated in loving memory of my mother, Carolyn Josephine Carver Colclasure, the strongest woman I have ever known.

Acknowledgments

When it comes to creating a book, only one person is listed as the author. But don’t let the cover fool you; it takes more than one person to write a book. And every single person should be acknowledged for their help.

I am thankful to my mother, who left us last year. She was always so supportive of my writing and was the one person I could count on during hard times. A lot of my mom went into the creation of the character of Janay. Her wisdom and strength always inspired me.

I would also like to thank my sisters and brother for their ideas, support and encouragement of this novel. Thank you, also, to my sister-in-law, Allison Warner, for her never-ending support and occasional whack upside the head with the Reality Paddle. Thanks be to my relatives, who spent time in Washington and shared their memories of it, as well as staff at the Washington Board of Education, Okanogan District, for answering my questions.

Yet for the purposes of maintaining their anonymity afforded on the Internet, I wish to thank the gang at the Absolute Write Water Cooler for their support, guidance and encouragement of this novel.

Thanks also to family and friends who provided the sound help: Jamie, Tara, Kim, Nancy, Terri, Juliann and Cliff. Thank you for being my ears! You guys rock!

Thanks also to Searles O’Dubhain and Angel Duarte for insights and information for this novel.

I am also indebted to the following people: Charles Petit, Esq., Angela Hoy, the late Ann Crispin, Elizabeth Burton, James D. McDonald and Jenna Glatzer. Thanks for tolerating all those years of my endless questions concerning book publishing!

Thank you to my friend and fellow author, L.K. Hunsaker, for directing me to the lovely ladies behind Gypsy Shadow Publishing.

Thank you to Denise Bartlett and Charlotte Holley of Gypsy Shadow Publishing, for your support, advice, time, edits and cover artwork for this novel. You have been amazing people to work with! Thank you for turning this into the book that it was meant to be.

I am grateful to my husband, as well. Being married to a writer means putting up with many lonely nights, unexpected outbursts, writing sprees at 3 a.m. and the unavoidable bouts of depression and anxiety resulting from rejection, writer’s block and doubt. Thank you for getting past your skepticism to answer my questions and help with trouble spots. Thank you for offering your tech whiz help when the computer refused to cooperate. Thank you for sticking behind me when nothing seemed to work and offering your advice on what exactly didn’t. Thank you for being able to put up with it all.

Thank you to my wonderful, beautiful children for supporting Mommy’s work in your own special ways.

Finally, and most importantly, my thanks to God, Whose ways remind me of how everything happens for a reason.

Author's Note

Authors are never able to go back and tinker with their books just a little bit longer. Once their manuscripts get turned into real books, the chance to write a better version of the story, give it a new title or new characters, or make the book just as good as its predecessor are limited.

Many authors are not given this opportunity, yet I am grateful that I was.

Shadow of Samhain first entered this world in the shape of a different novel titled November’s Child. This is the novel I spent the better part of my late high school years writing. Being a newbie in the world of book publishing, I had the book published by a company that was not legitimate, and when that publisher ended up filing for bankruptcy soon after my book’s publication, my book remained in limbo. Constant phone calls and mail correspondence between myself and those involved in the bankruptcy case did nothing to ease my doubt over what I was left to do next, only that the rights to my book had been returned.

So, what next? That question wouldn’t be answered until many years later, many years of trying to resurrect my book, give it a new life (with a new title), and clarify with experts in the publishing industry just where I stood on being able to make my manuscript a real book again. There are numerous editors, literary agents, attorneys and authors I turned to in my quest to understand just what I was able to do with my book.

Thankfully, November's Child did indeed get a second chance in the book world, as a brand new novel. While I changed many parts of the original to make it a new book, there are some things I kept for my own personal reasons.

The character Jonathan existed in my real life, but not as a Druid or as a vengeful spirit. He only existed in my dreams, which lasted for many years. Jovin also existed in my dreams, yet not with the same name. These were valuable key players to what happened in my real life, an event that lasted for over 15 years. Every good fiction writer is able to take a real-life event and turn it into a fictional story much different from what actually happened. I have finally made peace with my experiences and have moved on past them, yet the experience itself inspired this story.

That said, I must clear the air here: This book is ENTIRELY a work of fiction. Society is yet to understand why and how we dream. This story is just one exploration of the role dreams play in our lives, and my own dreams which involved Jonathan and Jovin, were the basis of how this story was constructed. It may not be an accurate portrayal of what dreams are and how they are used, or even of what the Druids of ancient Gaul were like, but for the purpose of this story, the changes I made and created based on my research made the story work.

While certain names and locations are based on real-life names and locations, everything else in the book is fictional. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, is unintentional and entirely coincidental.

I have made every attempt to portray the Druids as accurately as possible. However, I must note that there are certain aspects of Druidism which are not correct in this story. This book is not meant to serve as a reference guide or instructional manual on Druids and Druidism. Books such as The Book of Druidry by Ross Nichols, The Druids by Peter Berresford Ellis and The Druid Way by Phillip Carr-Gomm are books I highly recommend to anyone looking for accurate information about the Druids. They are also just a few of the books I used in my research. Certain details about the Druids and Druidism were changed for the purposes of contributing to this story.

—Dawn Colclasure

Eugene, Oregon

September 2013

Prologue

He awoke from a deep sleep. The white wall above should have been familiar to the person whose body he inhabited, but it wasn’t familiar to him. In fact, the daylight stretching across the white wall was unfamiliar to what he’d known for all these centuries. Such darkness.

He rose up in the bed, staring around the room. This was Malissa’s room. There was her desk by the window. Her dresser stood by the closed closet. And there, on her floor, sat her shoes.

They were all things that belonged to Malissa Ratham. So this was how she lived outside of the dream world.

He climbed out of the bed. The comforter and sheets felt so soft and warm, a far cry from the dirty blanket he’d slept with on the cold floor of a thatched hut. He examined the girl’s hands, smiling over how clean and perfect they looked. Even the nails on her fingers were perfect; she obviously didn’t bite them. He hoped she took likewise good care of the rest of herself; the last thing he wanted to worry about was tooth pain.

He walked to the closet and swung open both doors. The clothes inside consisted of blouses, skirts, sweaters and pants, all in feminine colors. All clothes that were typical of a 17-year-old female. He removed a denim, long-sleeved dress and held it in front of him. He’d have to get used to dressing like a girl. After all, that was the gender of the body he was in now.

But gender was unimportant. All that mattered was that he’d finally overpowered the girl whose dreams he’d inhabited. Now he was free to have his revenge.

He quietly removed the pajamas, grateful that they were at least a pants and top ensemble, then put the dress on. He added a wide brown belt around the waist, then located a pair of white stockings in the dresser drawer. He put these on then slid into the brown leather moccasins on the floor.

He walked out of the room and crept through the hallway, examining the faces in the framed photos. None of the children looked familiar, yet when he saw Jane’s face, he stopped. He stared at the wedding picture, looking at the man hugging Jane then back at Jane’s face. The face was that of an older Jane, but he still knew that face very well.

What are you doing?

He turned, then smiled. The girl with long blond hair looked exactly as Jane once had, when Jane had been fifteen years old.

Where is Jane? he asked.

Who?

He thought a minute then remembered. Jane had changed her name long ago. He looked at the girl again. Janay.

The girl scrunched her face. Don’t you mean Mom?

Where is she?

At work. She studied his face. Malissa, are you okay?

He walked up to the girl, smiling at her. She still wore her pajamas. Fine. He put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Everything is fine. He leaned over to look the girl in her eyes. Where does she work?

The girl blinked in surprise. At the fabric store. You’ve been there to buy stuff for clothes.

He smiled, then turned to walk away. Finding the fabric store would not be a problem; the location was somewhere in Malissa’s memories.

As he entered the kitchen, he heard the girl say, Can you take me to school? Malissa?

He walked outside and down the steps. The October wind beat against him, blowing the long black hair in either direction. He moved a strand of hair from her eyes and looked around. This was the backyard; he saw a door to the garage, a tire swing hung from a tree, and bikes were parked along the wooden fence.

He walked to one of the larger bikes, then led it out of the yard through a gate. He examined the seat, the frame and tires. He recalled memories of how Malissa rode the bike in the past, pedaling the rectangular metal things on a rotating bar in the lower center. He climbed onto the bike and started to peddle it down the driveway, shaking as he adjusted his balance.

He searched the street signs as she pedaled, watching for cars and buses that passed by. He soon entered a busy town and steered the bike through the crowds of people walking along the street and sidewalks, the girl’s hair blowing in the wind. Everyone he saw wore a coat, sweater or jacket. Even though the denim was sufficient for warmth, he hoped being without an extra garment didn’t make the girl stand out.

The fabric store finally came into view. He parked the bike against the wall next to it, then walked inside. Only two other people were in the store today: Jane and a customer. Jane stood next to a swinging tray of assorted cloths, discussing one such fabric with an elderly woman.

He slowly approached Jane, eyes fixed on the woman’s face. The face Jane had now was calm and relaxed, speaking with this elderly woman in a soft tone of voice. Yet as he walked toward Jane, all he saw was the face of the frightened ten-year-old girl the woman had once been.

Jane finally caught sight of him. Malissa? What are you doing here?

He stopped in mid-step. He stared hard at Jane, the anger rushing through his veins.

I have come back for you, Jane, was all he said. The body may have been female, but the voice definitely sounded like it should have been male. It was his voice, after all.

The elderly woman stared at her. She took one look at the girl’s face, then gasped. She backed away, slinking back with one cautious step after another.

Malissa? Jane asked, her voice curious and her eyes never leaving the person she saw as her daughter as she put the piece of cloth back onto the tray.

You thought you could escape me, he said, still using his voice. You were wrong. He chuckled. I have your daughter. And now I have you.

The elderly woman stopped moving away. Her eyes fluttered and she fainted.

Jane looked to the woman, then back at him. She studied him for a few moments then took a step forward. Malissa—

He threw his arms out at her and used his power to throw her back. She screamed as she toppled over the tray, then fell to the floor. Fabric sheets drifted down to her back as she groaned. She turned and looked up at him standing over her.

Please, she sobbed, her wide eyes trying to understand what was happening. Please, Malissa. What are you doing?

He turned and tore a metal bar off of a display rack. She heard Jane gasp, then whisper, Oh, my God, as he slowly turned back to face her. He gripped the metal bar with both hands and held it above him.

No! he heard Jane scream.

His gaze fixed ahead, Jonathan mechanically brought the metal bar down. He heard Jane scream, No! again, then all sound suddenly disappeared as he froze, holding the bar in mid-air.

Jonathan! a woman’s voice commanded in his mind.

The image of an African-American woman wearing rainbow-colored clothes and assorted jewelry came to him through some kind of link. The woman pointed directly at him as she spoke. Jonathan! Harm her no more.

He held the metal bar inches over the sobbing figure of Jane Ratham. His vision of the store in front of him—with the counter, cash register, assorted fabric displays and homemade clothing—all suddenly disappeared. A bright light shone in his eyes as something, some form, pushed him away and out of the body he had stolen.

Malissa felt herself returning to life within her body again, consciousness sweeping through her.

The air left her lungs for only a moment as she realized she’d been out of her body all this time, then she collapsed to the floor, releasing the metal bar as darkness overtook her.

One Year Later

Part One

Nightmares

Chapter One

This was it. This was the day she had been waiting for. The day she had feared would never actually happen. But it did finally happen. It did.

She hadn’t been dreaming when she’d put on the red silk robe, when she had placed the matching cap on her head. She’d even stared at herself long and hard in the mirror before they’d all left for the ceremony.

Here she was, a high school graduate. She had made it.

She’d done it. She’d graduated from high school. The banner hanging on the wall behind her in the living room had announced as much. Congratulations, it read. You did it!

The principal had announced her name for all to hear: Malissa Ratham. She’d risen from her seat, walked up to the podium, and received her high school diploma. She’d turned to hold it up for her family to see, and they’d all cheered from where they stood in the audience, clapping and cheering her on.

Malissa!

She snapped out of her daydream, looking at her 12-year-old brother standing across from her now. He wasn’t cheering, as he had earlier that day. Actually, he looked at her with a hint of impatience written all over his face, strands of his sandy brown hair hanging over his blue eyes. He’d abandoned his good shirt, khakis and shoes that he’d worn earlier for black cargo shorts, a tie-dyed T-shirt and sandals.

Are you going to smile for the camera, or aren’t you? he asked.

She sighed, grinning. Sorry, Jamie. She shook her head, still beaming. Today is just so cool!

Today is awesome! her 20-year-old brother, Tom, announced, his fingers plowing into his sister’s ribs. She laughed, playfully fighting him off. When he was done tickling her, he stood at her side, wrapping his arm around her neck as he stared at the camera. His brown hair had been combed neatly in place for the graduation ceremony, but now it was all tousled about as he stood for the camera. He’d also shed his nice shirt and pants, now wearing blue jeans and a green T-shirt. Malissa started to wonder if she was the only one still wearing the same clothes from her graduation, as she looked down at her black dress and black shoes. We are here today to congratulate my sister, Malissa Ratham, on graduating from kindergarten, Tom announced.

She elbowed him. Hey!

Good one, Tom! Heather chuckled from behind them.

Malissa turned to frown at her 16-year-old sister. Thanks a lot.

Heather, who had released her long blond hair from a braid earlier and now wore blue jeans and a black T-shirt in place of the yellow dress she had on at the ceremony, stuck her tongue out at her.

I knew if I let you kids run wild with this camcorder, it would take a century to film this video, a woman’s voice said from the other side of the room.

Malissa watched Jamie move the camera to focus on their mother, Janay, who stood in the entryway of the living room, her arms folded over her chest. Unlike Malissa’s siblings, her mother still wore the short-sleeved blue dress she wore for the ceremony, and her blond hair was still up in a bun. She even wore the same necklace and earrings. She stared directly into the camera. This is an important day for Malissa. She just graduated from high school! She walked through the room to stand next to her and Malissa smiled and wrapped an arm around her. Malissa noticed Jamie aiming the camcorder at them before she looked at her mother again. Her mother’s blue eyes seemed to sparkle with pride.

I am so proud of you, sweetheart. She shot a glance at her other children. We all are.

Yay, Malissa! they all cheered.

Malissa beamed, looking down. Thanks, everyone.

And don’t worry about anything while Malissa is living with me in Tacoma, Mom, Tom assured her, putting his arm around his sister again. She’ll be safer than if she was here at home. I’ll teach her everything I know about living on your own.

That shouldn’t take you very long, Heather teased from behind them.

Hey! Tom said, then laughed as he ran to chase his sister out of the room.

Malissa joined her mother and Jamie’s laughter as they watched the two of them run around the house.

Malissa smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Here she was, a high school graduate. Eighteen years old and ready to take on the world. She’d cut her long black hair short just for the occasion, but the prospect of moving in with her brother seemed to overshadow the joy of graduating from high school. Of finally graduating from high school.

She looked down and sighed. She was lucky to graduate. She’d just made it by a hair. With everything that had happened to her in the past, it astounded her that she was still in one piece.

There you are.

She started and looked to the side as her mother entered her bedroom, carrying a small stack of folded clothes in her arm. She had finally changed her clothes, now wearing something more casual: beige pants, a pink T-shirt and a white blouse buttoned to her chest.

All washed and ready to go, Janay muttered as she pushed Malissa’s blue jeans into the already filled suitcase.

Malissa smiled at her. It was going to be a while before her mother would be able to wash her clothes again. Thanks, Mom. She walked over to her mother and placed her hand on her shoulder. Are you sure you’re okay with this?

Janay sighed as she zipped up the suitcase, then turned to look at her. Okay with you moving out? Not really. Moving all the way to Tacoma? She shook her head. Certainly not. If I had it my way, all four of you kids would never leave me.

We’re not really leaving you. Malissa sighed as she lowered her hand. I just think this is important for me to do. Before I head off to L.A. and go to a big-time university. At least living with Tom will help me learn the ropes.

Her mother smiled. I’m glad he suggested you live with him first. She shook her head. It’s a big change and a huge adjustment. She softly ran her fingers through Malissa’s hair. But you’re eighteen now. You deserve a chance to see what it’s like out there in the big wide world.

Malissa smiled and hugged her. Thanks, Mom.

Just promise you’ll visit. And call me every day.

Malissa nodded. I promise.

And always carry phone money with you.

Malissa rolled her eyes. Mom, you’ve been telling us that ever since we learned how to use a phone.

Her mother laughed. You’re right, I have. She turned to walk around Malissa’s room. So many memories.

Malissa nodded and joined her mother in looking around her bedroom. Her heart froze when her gaze fell on one of her drawings she had tacked on the wall. A drawing she’d done maybe two years ago. A drawing from something she’d seen in one of her dreams about the dark man.

What?

She noticed her mother looking at her, a look of concern on her face.

Nothing, she mumbled, turning to walk to her desk. A book lay on her desk and as she got closer, a shiver ran down her spine as she read the word Journal on it. She gripped the diary, with all of its details about her dreams and drawings of people in them, and tightly shut her eyes as she tried to ignore the memories of her screams from so long ago.

Malissa.

She opened her eyes, suddenly aware of her mother at her side.

Malissa, what is it? her mother asked.

Nothing, Mom, she muttered, hurriedly turning the book over in her hands before opening a desk drawer to shove it inside. She firmly shut the drawer, then shook her head as she turned to face her mother. Just got a bad feeling. Ghosts from the past.

Her mother held Malissa’s shoulders and turned her to face her, forcing her to meet her firm gaze. Malissa, listen to me. There is no reason for us to revisit what happened in the past. So push all those memories away from you, okay? You are about to move on in your life now. You must move on in your life now. Otherwise, it will tear you apart. Do you understand me? Leave the past in the past.

Chapter Two

Malissa sat her box down and smirked as she straightened. She folded her arms across her chest, tapping her fingers on one arm, and shook her head as she took it all in. When she noticed her brother standing next to her, carrying a box from his truck, she chuckled. Let me guess: You did this for my benefit.

Tom studied her. Did what?

Cleaned your apartment, Malissa said, indicating the clean and tidy small two bedroom dwelling.

Tom scoffed as he walked over to the couch. What, you think just because your older brother has his own bachelor pad that it’s going to be a pig sty?

Well, I have seen your room.

That was four years ago, Sis. I’m a changed man now. Free as a bird. Neat and organized and . . .

He finally caught sight of his sister’s stare and slumped his shoulders, pouting. All right. You got me. I had a friend clean it up.

Ah, a friend. Why am I not surprised? Malissa muttered, bending over to pick the box up again and follow him into the bedroom he’d cleared out for her.

You gotta admit, Tom said, walking toward the open doorway. She did a pretty good job, too.

Malissa laughed as she entered the bedroom. A bedroom that contained only three pieces of furniture: A bed, nightstand and a dresser.

She set the box down onto the bed and sighed as she looked around the room. Gee, comfy.

Tom chuckled. Well, I didn’t promise anything glamorous, Princess. It’s not the same room you had in Metaline Falls, but at least it’s four walls and a roof.

And a window, Malissa added, walking over to look outside. Cars and buses drove back and forth on the street outside, way past the parking lot spread before the apartment building. She took it all in. Businesses and apartment buildings everywhere. The city of Tacoma, the city that was now her new home and not just another city in the state of Washington to visit.

It’s okay if you ever change your mind, Tom said, pulling Malissa out of her thoughts.

She turned around to look at her brother, who now stood behind her. What do you mean?

Tom shrugged. If you ever want to go back home. Live with the ’rents. Adopt a million cats.

Malissa chuckled as she playfully punched his shoulder. You just want your gym back.

He pouted. I liked having a gym. That treadmill and weight set are crowding up my room.

Well, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, she joked. She sighed as she turned back around to look out the window