Katherine dropped her voice down low, making it creepy and mysterious.
“Virginia Dare’s grandfather, John White, was in charge of the colony. He went back to England to get more supplies. He meant to come right back. But for some reason—”
“The war with Spain,” Andrea muttered. “The Spanish Armada.”
“Oh, yeah, the Spanish Armada,” Katherine said. “Because of that, it was three years before he made it back to Roanoke. And by then, everyone was gone. Even the houses were gone!”
“I knew that,” Jonah said defensively.
“But the colonists left behind one clue.” Katherine had begun using her normal voice again, but now she made it spooky once more. “It was the word Croatoan, carved into wood. Carved . . . right . . . here.” She pointed straight down.
Jonah had to admit Katherine had a flair for storytelling. And if there was only one clue, he probably should have remembered it. He’d probably missed the word Croatoan on the test. Mrs. Rorshas had always given hard tests.
“Okay, okay, I should have known that,” he said. “But still—so what? We already knew this was Roanoke.”
“John White thought that the word Croatoan meant that his colonists had gone to another island, to stay with the Croatoan Indians there,” Katherine said. She put her hands on her hips, obviously ready to issue a challenge. “So if Virginia Dare went to Croatoan Island, why did JB return Andrea to history at Roanoke?”
“Maybe John White was wrong?” Jonah retorted. “Maybe you got your history mixed up?”
“No, she’s right,” Andrea murmured.
She had crouched down and was tracing the carved letters with her fingers, again and again.
“How long do you think this has been here?” she asked plaintively. “Could a carving stay in wood like this, out on the open, for a long time? For . . . centuries? It could, couldn’t it?” Her voice shook, as if she might start crying again if Jonah and Katherine didn’t give her the right answer.
“Centuries?” Katherine repeated. “No way! Andrea, did you hit your head or something coming through time? It wouldn’t need to be here for centuries. I’m not sure how old you were when you were kidnapped from history, but you were still a kid. Under eighteen. So this carving couldn’t be more than eighteen years old, at the most.”
“I don’t think it’s even that old,” Jonah said. “Out in the open, wood would start breaking down. See how it’s really faint and hard to read, already?”
He kind of wanted to add, “I’m a Boy Scout. This is something I know about,” just so Andrea wouldn’t think he was a complete idiot.
But Andrea was collapsing against the log, throwing her arms across it and burying her face in her arms.
“No-o-o-o,” she moaned. “It can’t be. . . .”
Jonah peered over at Katherine, hoping she could explain Andrea’s strange behavior, going from giggling to freezing to wailing in nothing flat. But Katherine only gave an “I’m mystified too” shrug.
After a moment of Jonah and Katherine staring at each other over Andrea’s wailing, Katherine dropped down beside the other girl.
“Andrea, it’s okay,” Katherine said soothingly. She patted Andrea’s back. “Remember, we’re here to help you, Jonah and me. We’ll take care of you.”
Jonah decided if Katherine was doing the comforting, that cast him in the role of guard. He looked around, just as Dare began barking at something off to the right. Jonah caught a quick glimpse of something pale—a white shirt? White skin? He instantly dropped down with the two girls and pulled them off the top log, out of sight.
“Ssh! Stop talking! Someone’s coming!” he hissed in Katherine’s ear. He slid his hand over Andrea’s mouth, but the shock had evidently already stunned her into silence.
Dare kept barking, so Jonah couldn’t even listen for footsteps. What if whoever it was stepped right into the clearing? Shouldn’t the three kids scramble back into the woods while they still had time?
Jonah raised his head, just enough to see past the toppled logs. He scanned the scene before him: pine tree, pine tree, pine tree . . . there! Something pale was moving through the trees, coming toward the clearing. Jonah blinked, because his eyes had chosen that moment to go out of focus again. The movement he saw was blurry and indistinct; watching was like trying to keep track of a ghost.
Or . . . not exactly a ghost . . .
Jonah grinned and dropped back down with Andrea and Katherine.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s just a tracer! I bet it’s Andrea’s!”
All three kids peeked over the logs now. Even Dare stopped barking and just watched silently. Now that Jonah knew he was watching a tracer, it made sense that the figure moved without rustling any tree branches, without snapping any twigs underfoot.
“There are two of them!” Katherine whispered.
Jonah scooted over so he could see from the same angle, and she was right—there were two figures gliding silently through the trees.
“Let’s make sure there aren’t any real live human beings with them too,” Jonah whispered back grimly.
But as the figures approached, it became clear that no one else was around. When the tracers stepped into the clearing—becoming a bit more distinct in the brighter light—Katherine began to giggle.
“Uh, Jonah, I don’t think either of those tracers are Andrea’s,” she whispered.
“Why not?” he asked. “. . . oh.”
The tracers were boys—rather scantily clad boys. At first Jonah thought they might even be naked, but then he realized that they had squares of some sort of cloth or animal skin hanging down from their waists.
Katherine kept giggling.