Nine-year-old Corina Payton sat at her desk in the very center of Room 105 on the first floor of Robert E. Lee Elementary in a peaceful suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. It was two fifty-five in the afternoon on a warm, sunny September Thursday in the year 2008. Corina kicked her small, sneakered feet against the metal basket meant for keeping books which was attached underneath the blue plastic chair of her desk. She slouched over her desk and leaned her chin on her hand, letting her dark head slump and her hand pull at her skin to give her a smashed sort of bored expression.

Corina stared blankly at the front of the room, where her teacher was writing a list of history dates on the board. Glancing to her left, Corina saw her neighbour, a tall, blonde girl named Leslie, take a cell phone from her jean’s pocket and start texting someone underneath her desk. Behind Leslie, a small, black boy named Jacob was doodling on a scrap sheet of paper. Corina could see a dragon, a race car and what was making out to be a spaceship. As Corina watched, he drew the spaceship landing in a cornfield and two Martians appearing next to it, smiling and waving.

Above, below and around her teacher’s monotonous voice, Corina could hear the three fans in the classroom, all blasting at high speed, barely shifting the stiflingly warm air in the room. Every window was wide open and the flies could be heard buzzing and bumping into the screens repeatedly. The clock on the wall by the door was ticking. The heat was beginning to give Corina a headache. The blood in her head was pulsing against her skull. Corina closed her eyes.

A sharp prick of pain roused Corina from her half-stupor. Jolting awake, she heard a small clatter on the floor nearby. Corina looked down to see a pencil rolling away from her desk. It stopped at the leg of Leslie’s chair. Corina looked behind her to see Jacob grinning and mouthing, “You were asleep!� Corina glared at him. After a quick glance to make sure the teacher’s back was turned, Corina bent down and picked up the fallen pencil. She set it on her desk and rolled it back and forth absently with one finger.

Corina heard movement behind her. A moment later, Leslie reached over and tapped Corina on the shoulder. Corina glanced at her. Leslie jerked her head behind her, gesturing towards Jacob. Corina turned around obligingly. Jacob pointed at his pencil, asking for it back. Corina smiled blithely and shook her head, still rolling the pencil back and forth, back and forth on the desk. It was Jacob’s turn to glare. He slid down in his chair sulkily, frowning at the half-finished astronaut on the moon on his paper. He leaned over and fished in his book bag for another writing utensil.

Corina tested her coordination by tugging on a piece of her short, black hair, while continuing to roll the pencil back and forth. The yellow-painted wood clicked against the plastic on the desk.

Clickclickclickclickclick…clickclickclickclickclick…

Brrrrring!

Corina jolted upright in her seat as all around her chairs scraped against the floor as her classmates joyously heralded the ringing of the bell that announced the arrival of an afternoon of freedom. No one heeded the teacher’s voice as he feebly tried to hold onto his last threads of authority over the liberated students, shouting, “Class dismissed!� Corina flipped the pencil at Jacob; it landed on his desk with a clatter. He stuffed it in his bag with a grin. Corina zipped up her own bag and slung it over her shoulder, joining the throng of children crowding the corridor outside.

Wide awake again, Corina nimbly squeezed her slender body through the bottleneck of students at the doors and escaped onto the wide, shallow steps outside. A quick glance around the parking lot showed Corina that she would be taking the bus today; her father had not come to pick her up as he sometimes did. Corina walked around the corner to the bus lot and boarded bus No. 12 which would make a stop on the street where Corina lived.

Once seated on the bus, Corina opened her bag again and took out a paperback book. Shifting sideways in her seat and leaning against the window as the bus bumped along, Corina travelled back in time to make friends with a young slave girl named Clara who worked on a plantation in 1860, not far from where Corina lived in 2008. Clara’s joys and struggles kept Corina occupied until the bus ground to a halt on the corner of Corina’s street. Her nose still in her book, Corina hopped off the bus and walked half a block to the small townhouse where she lived with her father. Corina dug her key out of her bag and let herself in. She got two steps into the entryway before she stopped suddenly and turned back toward the door. Rolling her eyes a bit at her father’s cautiousness, Corina put her hand against the deadbolt on the door and said clearly, “Obfirmo.�

No sooner had Corina dropped her bag on the kitchen table and left her shoes underneath a chair, than the empty fireplace in the sitting room next door flared up suddenly with a whoosh. Corina looked over to see the green flames flicker out as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind a scrap of yellowed parchment which fluttered through the air to settle on the rug. Corina walked over and picked it up. It read,

“Corina,

I have to work late tonight. Eat a healthy snack. Be sure you lock the door. There’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge. Heat it up in the microwave. Do not use the stove. Do your homework. You can use the phone after you do your homework, but do not touch the Floo powder. I’ll be home as soon as I can.

Love,
Daddy.�

Corina sighed and glanced at the clock above the mantelpiece. Four o’clock. Corina’s stomach growled. She climbed onto the kitchen counter and began rummaging about in the cabinets, looking for a snack. A few minutes later, Corina retired to the sitting room with a package of strawberry-filled Chocolate Frogs and her book.

Corina was an avid reader, and once she got into the meat of a good book, nothing short of a small explosion could jolt her back to reality. So it was that six-thirty found Corina sitting in the exact same spot, chocolate frogs long gone. She sat on the edge of her seat, eyes racing faster and faster over the page, until she shut the book with a long sigh.

Poor little Clara….Corina could almost see her heroine struggling not to cry as she was told she would be sold to a neighbouring plantation, separated from her family and friends and sent away alone to live with strangers. Corina blinked back tears. And the worst part is it’s not just a story. Those things really did happen. Wringing her hands anxiously, Corina got up from her chair and went down the hall to her father’s room.

Connor Payton’s bedroom was decorated with an odd mix of wizard and Muggle culture: along with his purple and orange school pennant from the Southeast Wizards’ Institute and a poster of the Atlanta Bishops Quidditch team, there were also several posters for basketball and football. Connor’s room looked more like a teenager’s bedroom than an adult’s. The photographs on the dresser, however, told a different story.

Like the wall posters, the photos were a mix of Muggle and wizarding: there was a still photo of day-old Corina lying in her bassinet, and a moving one of two-year-old Corina swinging on a swing set at the park. Most of the photographs were of Corina, with her father or by herself, but Corina reached for a small wooden picture frame on the far right-hand side, of a young man and woman holding hands and smiling at the camera. They were motionless.

Corina traced the woman’s face, and then set the frame down. That was not what she was here for. Corina crossed the room and opened her father’s closet. Standing on tip-toe on the edge of his bed and reaching with all her might, Corina clung to the top shelf of the closet and grabbed a small, square box. Launching herself back to the bed with effort, Corina set the box on her father’s pillow and opened it. Inside were all manner of trinkets Connor had collected over the years and could never bring himself to get rid of: foreign currency from traveling, his class ring from high school, his wedding ring. Corina dumped the contents of the box unceremoniously onto the bedspread and fiddled with the corner of the lining inside the box. The lining lifted to reveal a silver key no bigger than a paper clip.

Corina replaced the trinkets and the box and, key grasped firmly in her fist, went back to the sitting room. There she pushed an armchair to the bookshelf by the fireplace and clambered onto its back, gripping the edge of the top shelf. On this shelf were kept the matches, the Floo powder, and other fascinating items that Corina was not allowed to touch. Pushing these aside, she found another wooden box smaller than the trinket box and completely invisible from the ground. After returning to ground level and without bothering to replace the armchair, Corina walked carefully back to her father’s room. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she turned the silver key in the lock and whispered, “Patefacio.� Lock and key began to emit a faint bluish glow. Corina said carefully, “Six, fourteen, ninety-seven.� The lock opened with a small click. Corina grinned and carefully removed the object of all her efforts: a silver hourglass on a chain.

Connor had never told Corina where he had gotten his Time-Turner; indeed, he had never told Corina that he owned one. She had found it one winter on a hunt for hidden Christmas presents. The tiny box at first had not looked promising, but the silver lock intrigued Corina, and she was determined to look inside. She had searched high and low for the key. Nearly at the end of her patience she had discovered the box of trinkets. She rifled through it and, upon coming up empty, shook the box upside-down in frustration. Much to her surprise, the key had tumbled out, and Corina had eagerly attempted to unlock the box, unsuccessfully. The key clearly fit, but the lock did not open.

Corina soon realised that this was a lock much like that on her front door. Magical objects not requiring wands to operate were a recent invention, useful for at-home convenience. Corina was quite incorrigible once she set her mind to something, and she dug out an old Latin dictionary that had been her grandfather’s. She tried every unlocking sort of word she could find until one worked and the bluish glow appeared. The lock still would not open. Now Corina was angry, and it made her even more determined. There must have been a password. But what was it? Corina had tried everything: her father’s name, her own, her mother’s, all their birthdates, Connor’s school, his workplace, her parents’ wedding date…and the lock clicked open, revealing its treasure. Corina knew what it was because she had a book on great wizarding inventions, and the Time-Turner was one of them. Thus, Corina was very careful not to turn the hourglass as she settled on the bed, but she stared at it in fascination.

Corina slipped the chain ever so cautiously around her neck, dreaming she could go back in time and save the slaves from their cruel masters using her magical powers. Corina could see herself brandishing a wand, leading an army of slaves as they threw down their tools and marched out of the fields, their overseers paralysed by Corina’s power.

A door opened. “Corina?�

Corina gasped and glanced wildly at the open door of the bedroom. Hide! She had to hide it. Corina looked down at the silver necklace in her hand…and froze. The tiny hourglass was spinning of its own accord. Faster and faster it spun, and Corina could feel the panic rising. She heard her father’s voice calling her name again.

“Corina? I’m home. Where are you? Corina?�

“Daddy!� Corina screamed. She yanked the chain away from her, trying to break it, but it was too strong, and the Time-Turner was still spinning.

“Corina, what’s wrong?� Connor bolted into the doorway. “No! Corina!� he shouted in horror.

“Daddy, help!� Corina stretched out her hand to her father, still holding the whirling hourglass. Connor caught her hand, and the world began to spin. Corina clung to her father’s hand for dear life. “Daddy, I didn’t mean to…�

And everything went black.

Corina opened her eyes and wondered if she even had. She was surrounded by impenetrable darkness. She could still feel her father’s warm, rough hand in hers, and the cool, smooth metal of the Time-Turner clenched in her other hand. For all she could see, she could still have been in Connor’s bedroom, but her other senses told her differently.

Corina could hear crickets chirping all around her. She could feel warm, humid air against her skin and smell the rich, earthy smell of the sky before a rain storm. As Corina took all of this in, her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she began to make out the shapes of trees a distance away. Directly in front of Corina was a narrow, rectangular shadow like that of a small building.

For a long moment, Corina was still, observing her surroundings. Suddenly she felt panic rise in her chest again. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps and she squeezed her father’s hand with all her strength. “Daddy,� she whispered, her voice trembling with tears. “I didn’t mean to, I just wanted—�

“Corina, be quiet,� said Connor sharply. Corina shut her mouth, for she had heard it, too: footsteps approaching from her right.

Connor crawled backwards, pulling Corina with him. Corina felt leafy branches brush against her arms and face, and then a wooden wall against her back. They were trapped, and the footsteps were getting closer.

The steps were soft, as if someone was walking on a dirt path barefoot. Connor pulled Corina close to him and wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulder, prying his hand from her grasp and placing it gently but firmly over her mouth. Both of them froze as they heard a female voice. Whoever was coming appeared to be talking to herself.

“Why dey built dis darn outhouse miles from de cabins, de good Lord only knows…� the voice muttered. For some reason, the rough, uneducated accent and prickly tone of the woman’s voice drove Corina’s fear away. She relaxed in her father’s grip. His grip did not loosen.

Suddenly a bright white light shone into Corina’s face, blinding her momentarily. She blinked. The woman had rounded a corner and come face to face with Connor and Corina, who were attempting to hide in the bushes against a building. Her face was that of a dark-skinned woman in her mid-forties, with short, greying hair and keen, intelligent eyes. In her hand she held up a lantern. She stopped in her tracks and stared when she saw Connor and Corina.

“Who are you an’ what you doin’ out here dis time o’ night?� she demanded in a fierce whisper.

Corina glanced at her father, and saw her own panic reflected on his face. What could they say to that? They had no idea when or where they were. Corina looked back at their interrogator. She was of medium height and quite slender. She wore what appeared to be a ragged white nightdress. It was like nothing Corina had seen at home, but something about it seemed familiar. Corina thought hard. Where had she seen a dress like that?

Meanwhile, the woman was waiting for an answer. Connor gave her one. “We, uh…we ran away.� That was safely vague. No matter what time or place, someone was always running away from something.

His answer jolted Corina’s memory, and an image flashed in her mind, a picture of a young, dark girl in a nightdress nearly identical to the stranger’s: Clara, the slave. Was it possible?

“Ran away?� the woman repeated dubiously. “Where you run from?�

Corina took her chances. “We’re runaway slaves. We escaped from…from Atlanta,� she blurted out, giving the first location that came to her mind. Thank goodness we're black, Corina thought. At least there's a chance she'll buy it.

“Atlanta?� said the woman in surprise. “You done run the wrong direction, chile. At least you ain’t got too far. Atlanta’s not far north o’ dis here plantation. But what in de name o’ Heaven is you wearin’?�

Out of the frying pan, into the fire. Place wise, they were still relatively near home, and it seemed Corina had made a lucky guess. This woman appeared to be a black slave on a plantation, and she accepted Corina’s story that she and her father had run away. But how would they explain their clothing? Corina’s denim shorts and bright t-shirt hardly fit the setting, and Connor’s wizard robes were if anything worse. Corina looked to her father for help. Connor scrambled. “We, uh….We joined a travelling circus for a little while. We must have gotten our directions mixed up when we left them.�

This time, however, their questioner was not convinced. “A travellin’ circus? I may not be Pres’dent Lincoln, boy, but I ain’t no fool.� She sighed. “I don’ know who you is, an’ I don’ believe what you’s tellin’ me, but this chile o’ yours can’t sleep out here all night. Y’all had better come on home an’ stay wi’ me, an’ we’ll figgur out what ta do wi’ you in de mornin’.�

Corina breathed a sigh of relief. They would have all night to think of a suitable story. “Now,� the woman continued, “I’m gonna use dis here outhouse, an’ you gonna stay right dere and not move, unnerstan’?� Corina and Connor nodded vigorously. The woman nodded and turned away, but turned back sharply. “Y’all ain’t told me your names. Dat’s bad manners, dat is.�

“Sorry,� said Connor quickly. “My name’s Connor.�

“Connor? What sort of a Christian name is dat? Oh, well, it is what it is. What about you, chile?�

Corina hesitated. Hers was an unusual name even in the 21st century. Here it was unheard of. She gave the first name that came to her mind. “Clara.�

“Dat’s more like it. Connor an’ Clara. Y’all can call me Aunt Chloe. Now stay put.� Aunt Chloe turned around and opened a creaky wooden door in the narrow building in front of Corina that was the outhouse. She disappeared inside and re-emerged after a minute or so. “Dere. Now dat business is taken care of, let’s get you some decent clothes an’ a good night’s rest. Everyting else can wait til mornin’.�

Connor and Corina followed Aunt Chloe back the way she had come. They arrived at a small wooden shack no bigger than the sitting room of Corina’s home. Inside, a ladder led up to a loft where Corina could see in the lantern light the shapes of several people sleeping. On the dirt floor stood a barrel with a few wooden boards that served as a table, as well as two shabby wooden chairs and a small fireplace for heat in winter. Aunt Chloe headed for a wooden chest in the corner. From it she took a white dress similar to the one she wore. “Dis ‘un belong to my daughter, Eliza. She outgrew it years ago. She’s a mite bigger’n you, but it’ll have ta do.�

The nightdress was indeed large for Corina, but she wore it without complaint. Aunt Chloe extracted a patched shirt and a pair of trousers for Connor. “Now ya’ll look more like runaway slaves. Mind, I still dunno dat you is who you says you is,� she said sternly with a disapproving glance at Connor, “but it can wait. Dis little ‘un needs her sleep. You two gotta sleep down here on de floor, I’s afeared, ‘cause I don’ want my family wakin’ up ta strangers in dere beds, unnerstan’?�

Corina and Connor murmured in agreement. Aunt Chloe nodded her head in approval and climbed the ladder to the loft. As she reached the top, she looked back and said to Corina, “Now don’ you worry, Clara, chile. De good Lord take care of everyting. You jes go on to sleep.� Corina smiled gratefully as she lay down next to her father underneath the loft.

As tired as Corina was, she knew she could not sleep yet. Corina and her father lay in silence for a while, giving Aunt Chloe time to go to sleep. Now that her panic was beginning to wear off, Corina lay there in the darkness, thinking. At first all her thoughts were focused on getting back home, but she could not help but realise that here were all her fantasies come true: she was here, in this time, with these people…and with her magic. Her magic had brought them here, so it was obvious, Corina reasoned, that she had significant power, and her father had a wand. The gears of Corina’s mind were turning, and she smiled at the ceiling, at the possibilities.

Finally, Connor leaned on his elbow and looked directly at Corina, whose eyes were still wide open as she looked back at him. “Corina, I take it you know where we are? That woman mentioned President Lincoln.�

Corina nodded. “We’re back in slave times,� she answered. “Isn’t it lucky that I know all about this time?� she said hopefully.

“It’s very unlucky that we’re here at all,� Connor answered solemnly. “How did you get at my Time-Turner?� He pinched his nose briefly. “Never mind, that’s not important now. Tell me exactly what you were doing when I found you.�

Corina explained how she had been reading her book and wished she could go back in time. “It was only pretend, Daddy,� she pleaded. “I didn’t think anything could happen. I was being really careful.�

“You must have done accidental magic,� said Connor thoughtfully. “How many thousands of turns will it take us to get back?�

Corina was silent, trying to figure out the best way to express what she wanted to suggest. “Maybe…maybe we don’t have to go back right away.�

“What do you mean?� Connor asked sharply.

Corina took a deep breath and blurted it all out in a rush. “Maybe we got put back here for a reason. Maybe we can help these people. With magic.�

“We are here for no such reason and we cannot help these people in any way,� Connor answered, so quickly and harshly that Corina flinched. “We are here because you went snooping where you didn’t belong, and I wasn’t careful enough to prevent it. We must return as soon as possible. We cannot, we must not change the past. Do you understand me, Corina?�

Corina swallowed her disappointment and nodded. Connor softened. “We’re both tired. Go to sleep. We’ll discuss this in the morning.�

“But what will we tell them?� Corina asked, referring to Aunt Chloe and her family.

“We’ll tell them what we already told them: we’re runaway slaves who got a little misdirected,� Connor answered.

“But she didn’t believe us,� Corina pointed out.

Connor sighed. “I know,� he said softly. “But it’s the only story we have.�

~*~

Corina woke to sunlight just beginning to filter through the wooden slats that formed the walls of the shack. Dust floated down a sunbeam to the floor next to her hand. Corina snatched at it sleepily. Her dusky hand left tracks in the loose dirt on the floor. Distracted, Corina began writing her name in the dust. C…o…r…

Wait. That was not right. The memories of the night before flooded back to Corina. If she was going to play this part, she would play it wholeheartedly. Corina smoothed the dirt and tried again. C…l…a…r…a. That was more like it.

Corina took a breath of fresh morning air. It was cooler now than it had been when she arrived. The air was still moist, and as Corina lay there, the golden light disappeared, replaced by the shady dimness of clouds. Had the rain she had smelled the night before come and gone? Corina wanted to go outside and find out. She was about to sit up when a sound made her freeze. Someone was moving and talking in the loft.

“Why do I gotta fill the bucket? Can’t ‘Liza do it?� complained the petulant voice of a young boy.

“I did it yesterday,� said an older girl.

“Benjamin, don’ you talk back ta your mudder.� Corina recognised the third speaker as Aunt Chloe. “Jes git down dere an’ fill de bucket. Won’ take long.� There came a clattering as someone descended the ladder from the loft. Corina turned her back and held as still as possible, hoping not to be noticed.

It was a vain hope. No sooner had his feet touched the ground than Benjamin exclaimed, “Mama! Dere’s two people in de house, an’ I ain’t never seen ‘em before!�

“Shoot!� Chloe whispered loudly. “Be quiet down dere, Ben. I nearly forgot. Dose are two run’way slaves who got lost. Dey’s stayin’ here for now. Don’ wake ‘em up; dey was travellin’ all night.�

“How long dey gon’ stay wid us?� Ben asked in a softer voice.

“As long as dey need to,� Chloe answered. “Now fill dat bucket if you want ta eat afore de bell.�

As soon as Ben’s footsteps were gone, Corina rolled back over and sat up. Her whole body complained as she did so, sore from sleeping on the hard dirt floor with only a thin blanket to cushion it. It was daybreak; the rising sun nearly blinded Corina as she turned her head toward the open doorway. Looking through, Corina could see the back of a small boy about her age dragging a large wooden bucket down a narrow path away from the cabin. Ben’s hair was shaved close to his head, and he was clothed in only a too-small pair of trousers. The bucket bounced and bumped along the rough path behind him as he walked.

The ladder creaked again as Chloe descended. She was already dressed in a faded blue dress that was much too long for her, and it got in the way of her feet as she climbed. She reached the ground and saw Corina watching her. “Oh, Clara, chile, you’s awake. Eliza, you dressed yet?� she called up the ladder.

“Nearly,� replied a sleepy girl’s voice, the same that Corina had heard arguing with Ben.

Chloe shook her head dubiously. “Get down here an’ find some old clothes of yours for Clara while I start breakfast,� she ordered. She turned back to Corina. “Come an’ help me make the johnnycakes, chile.� Corina stood up and followed Chloe over to the table. A shallow pan sat on the hearth and a fire flickered in the fire place. Chloe took a wooden bowl down from a shelf as Ben came back with the bucket, now full of water. He set it down awkwardly on the doorstep and straightened up, yawning. He shut his mouth when he saw Corina.

“What’s your name?� he asked her abruptly. Before Corina could answer, he kept talking. “Is dat your fadder?� he asked, pointing at Connor, who was still asleep. Corina nodded. “Is it true you run away? Where’s your mudder? Din’t she come wid you?�

“Ben!� Chloe exclaimed. “Stop pesterin’ de poor girl an’ go wake your fadder.�

Ben headed for the ladder, but turned back at its foot. “Well?� he asked Corina. “Can’t you talk?�

“Of course I can talk,� Corina retorted. “My name is Clara, yes I ran away, yes that’s my father, and my mother’s dead.� Ben blinked.

“Oh,� he said, turning quickly and scampering up the ladder.

“Don’ you mind him, Clara,� Chloe clucked. She was pouring a measure of cornmeal into the wooden bowl. “He don’ mean no harm. Come. I’ll show you how to make it.� Using a hollowed-out gourd, Chloe poured some water into the bowl with the cornmeal and began mixing it with her hands, forming a thick, sticky dough. “Bring dat pan here,� she told Corina as Ben came down again and stood by the table, watching.

Corina fetched the pan as Chloe took a bit of dough and shaped it into a thick, round cake about the size of a flat muffin. She put it in the pan and motioned for Corina to help her. “Jes like that, see?� Corina nodded and reached into the bowl. The gooey cornmeal squished between her fingers and stuck to her skin. She had just finished her first cake when a new face appeared in the room.

Arriving from the loft was a pretty young woman of about sixteen. Her hair, unlike Chloe’s, was long and tucked under a small white cap. Her skin was lighter than Chloe’s and Ben’s, and the hem of her pink skirt hung just above the tops of her shoes, which were clean and fit well. “You’re Clara, then?� she asked Corina, giving the younger girl an appraising look. “Let’s find you something to wear.� Corina brushed off her hands and followed Eliza into the corner, where she was bent over the wooden chest. Eliza straightened up, holding a pale green dress which she handed to Corina. “There. Go up and change,� she told Corina, pointing to the ladder.

Draping the dress over her shoulder, Corina climbed the ladder into the loft. She found that the small space was divided into two areas by a blanket draped over a string tied to the rafters. A broad-shouldered man was sitting near the ladder, pulling a linen shirt over his head. Corina crawled past him to the other side of the makeshift curtain and changed clothes. When she came back, the man was gone. Corina left her nightgown in a corner and climbed down again. The johnnycakes were sizzling over the fire, and Connor was awake.

“Chloe tells me you’s runaways.� The man Corina had seen in the loft was sitting at the table, pulling on a tattered pair of work boots. “Where’s you from?�

“Atlanta,� Connor answered as Chloe wrapped her apron around the hot pan handle to remove it from the fire. “We got a little lost.�

“Atlanta?� repeated the man in surprise. “You’s city slaves, den. I’s surprised. Not many city slaves has de guts or de motivation to run.� Connor shrugged.

Ben spotted Corina as she reached the floor and approached the table, holding up her over-long skirt so as not to drag it in the dirt. “So you’s an inside girl, Clara, like ‘Liza,� he said impishly. “What you run ‘way for? Ain’t you in love wi’ your missus like dem udder girls, like ‘Liza?� Eliza frowned at him but did not comment. “Or did you make her mad? Ain’t you bring her coffee fast enough?�

“No, and I cried when she beat me for it,� Corina retorted, glaring at him.

Chloe quickly intervened. “Ben, you hush now an’ eat your breakfast while it’s hot,� she scolded him, tipping the golden corn cakes back into the wooden bowl and setting it on the table. “Uncle John, you, too. Connor an’ Clara be our guests; don’ be pesterin’ dem so.�

Ben seized a johnnycake and stuffed half of it in his mouth at once. “You don’ talk like no slave,� he remarked to Clara with his mouth full.

“Her missus be one o’ dem who like to educate dere slaves a bit,� Chloe explained, before Corina thought of a suitable answer. “Clara, here, honey, eat some. We ain’t got no butter, but dey’s fine enough plain. Eliza, take a couple wid you to de house.�

As Eliza hurried out the door, Corina quickly took a bite to avoid further questioning. Although it would have been better with salt and butter, she found the warm, textured patty quite tasty and filling. Corina finished two and was halfway done with her third when she heard the clanging of a cow bell.

Immediately Chloe, John and Ben stood up from the table. Ben grabbed the last johnnycake and shoved it into his mouth. “What is it?� Connor asked Chloe.

“It’s de call to de fields,� Chloe answered. “De best way for you to blend in here is to work, so dat’s what you better do ‘til you decide what you’s gonna do next. Come on.� Connor and Corina glanced at one another and shrugged. They followed Chloe past the outhouse where they had arrived the night before, around a corner and into a sea of fields. Corina saw thousands of tall, brown plants. White, fluffy clumps of cotton clung to the branches, dripping with water from the storm the night before. Burlap sacks hung on a post at the edge of one of the fields. Chloe took one and gestured for Connor and Corina to do the same. “Massa got so many slaves, he ain’t gonna notice two more.�

Chloe showed Corina how to pull the cotton fibres from the plant and drop the clumps into her bag. The work was simple, but as the sun rose over the tops of the trees the air grew hot, and Corina’s back began to ache from bending over the cotton plants. Once every couple of hours a drinking gourd would be passed down the line, but it was not enough to stop Corina’s throat from becoming parched with thirst. Two men, one black and one white, stood at the edge of the field overseeing the work. The white man stood with his arms crossed, watching the workers keenly with a critical eye. The black man held a whip loosely in his right hand. His other hand was stuffed in his pocket, and he seemed to be looking everywhere but at the workers.

The sun was just past its peak, and Corina wondered how long she could go on. Suddenly an elderly woman in front of Chloe collapsed to the ground with a low moan. Chloe moved to help her as she struggled to stand. She stumbled again and lay there without moving.

The white overseer gestured to his partner, who approached the old woman somewhat reluctantly. “Get up,� he told her, grasping her by the arm and pulling her to her feet. A drinking gourd was handed to him. “Here. Drink some water.�

The woman attempted to drink, but only succeeded in spilling the precious water down her dress. Her knees buckled and she fell, crying out in pain. The black overseer looked around. “You,� he said to Chloe. “Help her.�

“No,� interjected the white man. He walked over and stood above the old woman, sneering at her down his hooked nose. “Get up, woman.�

Desperately, she tried once again to stand, but without success. The cruel overseer snorted and glanced up. He was a full head shorter than his black counterpart, but the latter cowered under his gaze. “You know what to do, boy,� said the shorter man, smiling coldly and stepping back.

For one fleeting moment, Corina saw regret and sorrow on the young man’s face, before he set his jaw and his eyes flashed cold and hard. He raised his right arm above his head. “No!� Corina burst out, trying to run forward. Connor grabber her from behind and clapped a hand over her mouth. The whip sliced the air with a sickening crack and tore through the woman’s thin cotton dress, leaving an angry red slash on her back. She grunted in pain, struggling with all her might to keep silence.

Again and again the whip was raised, until the woman’s back was cut to ribbons, dripping crimson blood that soaked into the thirsty soil. Corina’s tears washed the dust from her father’s hand. Finally, the white man motioned that it was enough, and the other stepped back, breathing hard. Corina met his dark eyes and searched for remorse or compassion, but found only blankness. In turning her gaze away from the black man, she found the keen blue eyes of the other, who was watching her with interest. Corina clenched her teeth and glared at him with all her might. He smiled slightly in amusement and turned away.

“All right, all of you,� he called out as he walked out of the field. “Show’s over. Now you see the reward that sluggards earn. Get back to work.�

The overseers allowed another slave to take the beaten woman back to the cabin, on the grounds that her blood might soil the cotton. Corina toiled thoughtlessly as the sun sank behind her into the trees. Her mind was buzzing with the horror of what she had seen. The overseers kept an eye on the workers, but there was no further trouble.

Finally, it was too dark to work anymore, so the slaves presented their full satchels and headed back to the cabins. Corina stumbled along the dirt path, ready to collapse with exhaustion. Connor, Corina, Chloe, John and Ben met Eliza at the door of the cabin as she was about to leave.

“I made supper,� Eliza said hurriedly. “I’ve already eaten.�

“Now wait a minute, Eliza,� said Chloe, stopping her daughter as she made to leave. “Where you goin’ so late at night? I need your help. Dere’s ole’ Aunt Hannah at Mir’yam’s cabin, an’ she’s got it bad—�

“Oh, but Mamma,� Eliza protested pleadingly, “I’s promised Aaron, and if I don’t show—�

“Aaron? You’s bustin’ off to see your Aaron when Aunt Hannah’s in such a state?� Ben demanded indignantly. “Why, he’s de one what—�

“Min’ yo’ own business, Ben,� Chloe snapped, cutting him off. She turned to Corina, who had been following the conversation with difficulty. “Clara, honey, will you help me take care o’ Aunt Hannah, so’s ‘Liza can see her friend?� Corina nodded mutely.

“Dere, problem solved,� said Chloe gently. “Go on, ‘Liza, but don’ be too late.� Eliza nodded gratefully and disappeared into the darkness.

“Let me jes get my supplies,� said Chloe, hurrying into the house. John and Ben made a beeline for the steaming wooden bowl on the table, full of potatoes and bits of meat.

“Connor,� said John, heaping potatoes onto a tin plate. “Come sit down, brudder. Have some food an’ tell me ‘bout yo’self.�

Connor shot a nervous glance at Corina, who shrugged helplessly.

“Don’ pester him, John,� said Chloe distractedly as she gathered a few rags and an unmarked ceramic bottle full of liquid.

“I ain’t pesterin’ him, Chloe,� John replied testily, stabbing at the potatoes in the bowl. “But I got a right to know what sort o’ man be stayin’ in my house.�

“I-it’s all right,� Connor stammered, sitting down and accepting the plate of potatoes pushed toward him.

Chloe sighed and shook her head, but was too preoccupied to say anything more. “Come wi’ me, den, Clara,� she said briskly, alighting on the doorstep. “Mir’yam’s cabin ain’t too far dis a’way.�

Wide awake again, Corina hurried out the door behind Chloe. They turned left and passed between their cabin and the one next to it, around the back of the house and across a small open space, before they came to the doorway of another cabin, from which a flickering orange light was being emitted from a small window. In the shadows at the side of the house, Corina caught a glimpse of a flourishing vegetable garden. The trellises on which the tomato vines climbed cast eerie shadows on the path where Corina walked.

Inside the cabin, a young woman a few years older than Eliza bent over the old woman from the field, whom Chloe had called Aunt Hannah.

Hannah lay face down on a straw pallet on the dirt floor. She was naked from the waist up. Corina stifled a gasp. Hannah’s back and shoulders were covered in long welts and gashes, and sticky with drying blood. A kettle was whistling shrilly over the fire. To avoid looking at Hannah, Corina glanced around the cabin curiously. It was as sparsely furnished as Chloe’s, with a single table, two wooden benches, a chest and a ladder to the loft. What caught Corina’s attention, though, were the many odd-looking plants that hung from the rafters. There were strings of peppers and bean pods, bundles of grasses and leaves, and what appeared to be giant sunflower heads, dangling from their stems.

“Aunt Chloe, thank goodness,� said the young woman, relief evident in her soft voice. “I’s gonna try my best, but I ain’t never seen something quite dis bad, an’ Aunt Hannah ain’t so young no more.� She straightened up and walked over to the table, stopping on the way to pull a few leaves from a bundle. She sat on a bench and began crushing the leaves with a mortar and pestle.

“Don’ you worry, Mir’yam, chile,� said Chloe gently, setting her supplies on the table. “I’s gonna fix her up good. I see you’s got de water boilin’ already, dat’s a good girl.�

Chloe bustled around the room, soaking her rags in the boiling water and pouring on some of the contents of the ceramic bottle. Miriam watched closely and followed Chloe’s orders. Corina stood in the corner, feeling forgotten.

Chloe seemed to sense Corina’s uncertainty, because she turned to her and said, “Clara, go an’ talk to Aunt Hannah, over dere. She must be mighty lonely, waitin’ on us. Go innerduce yo’self.�

Hesitantly, Corina knelt in the corner by Hannah’s head. The old woman’s creased face was away from the wall, and Corina could see that her eyes were red from weeping, though her face was now dry.

Hannah’s hair was grey and thin, and her face sagged with wrinkles, but her eyes were clear and sharp. “Hello, Clara,� she greeted Corina hoarsely, before Corina could speak. “Now how come I ain’t met you before, honey?�

“Uh…� Corina was unsure whether to stick to her original, unconvincing story. Fortunately, Chloe had heard the question, too. “Speak up, chile,� she said. “Tell Aunt Hannah how you was bought by Massa Grayson, ‘long wid your daddy.�

Corina nodded in what she hoped was a convincing manner. “Yes, that’s right. Master, er, Grayson bought us from…Atlanta.�

“City man done gambled hisself broke,� Chloe explained to Hannah.

Hannah smiled kindly at Corina. “You’s in for a bit of a rude awakenin’, chile, comin’ here from de city. But don’ worry. De good Lord watch over us all, and He gon’ deliver us.�

Corina nodded again, hoping she looked like she knew what was going on. Hannah winced as Chloe gently laid a rag across her back. “Dat’s right, Aunt Hannah,� said Chloe confidently. “De day of Jubilee be comin’ any time now. I can feel it in my bones.�

“The day of what?� Corina asked without thinking.

Chloe stared at her. “De day of Jubilee. Don’ tell me you ain’ never heard?�

“No,� said Corina sheepishly, staring at her feet. Had she just given herself away?

Chloe shook her head, clucking. “What dese city slaves don’ know,� she muttered. “Mir’yam, you see how I’s doin’ de rags? Now you try.� As Miriam took over, Chloe knelt down in front of Corina and took her by the shoulders. “Clara, de day of Jubilee is de day when de good Lord gon’ deliver his people—dat’s us—from slavery. Dat’s de day of Jubilee. You unnerstan’?�

Corina nodded. “But how do you know it’s coming soon?� she asked excitedly. What if there had been some sort of prophecy, saying that a mysterious girl would show up out of the blue and use her amazing magical powers to—

Chloe chuckled. “I tell you how. ‘Cause de good Lord, he promise us he ain’ gon’ give us no more trials den we can bear—an’ de good Lord, he knows we can’t bear much more trials.� Hannah and Miriam laughed appreciatively. Corina giggled and suppressed her sigh of disappointment.

It was nearly midnight when Chloe and Corina arrived back at their cabin, but a candle still burned in the window. John and Connor came to meet them in the doorway. “How is she?� John asked Chloe.

Chloe shrugged. “She ain’t so young no more, an’ she got beat real bad, but she’s a tough woman. It’s hard to say.� John shook his head and turned to Corina.

“You look dead on your feet, Clara,� he said to her. “You’s best go on up to bed. ‘Nother long day tomorrow.�

Corina knew when she was not wanted. With a curious backward glance at the three adults, Corina entered the house and stepped out of sight of the doorway—but not out of hearing.

“Not so fast,� John remarked as Connor tried to go in after Corina. “I’d like a word wi’ you an’ my wife.�

Connor stopped walking, but not before he spotted Corina, standing next to the ladder, trying to look invisible. Connor was not fooled. “Cor—Clara,� he told her sternly. “Go.� He pointed up at the loft. Corina quickly scurried up the ladder, casting further curious glances at the doorway.

Corina crawled past the sleeping Ben and Eliza and sat on the floor of the loft, her legs pulled to her chest, sulking. She noticed that her 21st-century clothes from the day before had been folded and hidden in a corner, behind her father’s bedding. Suddenly, she remembered something that made her suppress a giggle of triumph and crawl to the corner hurriedly. Corina fished in her shorts’ pocket until she extracted her treasure: a thin, fleshy-looking string. Corina eagerly unravelled the Extendable Ear—purchased discreetly on an outing with an older friend bound for Southeast Wizards’ Institute—and then paused as she realised she could not go back down the creaky ladder and place the other end of the device by the doorway without detection.

Corina soon solved this problem by discovering a small stone wedged between two boards on the floor of the loft. She tied one end of the ear to the stone, hoping it would not interfere with reception, and took careful aim. The stone landed in the shadows next to the doorway with a small clatter. Corina held her breath. When she was not caught, she breathed a sigh of relief and listened.

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened, just what I told you,� Connor was saying impatiently.

“Dat’s what you told me, all right, but I don’ believe it for one minute, an’ I don’ tink you do, neider, Chloe,� said John angrily. He cut off Chloe as she tried to protest. “You ain’t stupid, woman, so why you buyin’ his lies? I don’t know why you’s lyin’ to me, boy, but you’d better come clean afore I trow you out. I won’ have liars livin’ in my house.�

Connor stammered frantically. Up in the loft, Corina winced. What would they do if John threw them out? If they tried to leave the plantation they’d be caught for sure and whipped, or worse.

Chloe sighed. “All right, John, all right. Connor, he’s right. I ain’t stupid. In fact, I’s smarter den eider of you gives me credit for, ain’t I?� John and Connor said nothing. Corina imagined they were looking at Chloe in confusion. “Men,� said Chloe exasperatedly. Corina smiled in the darkness. “Look here, John, I trust you. You’s my husband. Connor, you’s just gonna have to trust John too, all right?�

Connor must have nodded, because Chloe took a deep breath and continued. “You’s right about one ting, John: he’s lyin’. But I know why. Connor, ain’t you been wonderin’ why I’s been helpin’ you wid your story all day?� Corina blinked and kicked herself mentally for not noticing it. Helped? Chloe had practically concocted the entire thing, especially in Miriam’s cabin.

“I thought it was a bit odd, yes, but I wasn’t about to ask questions,� Connor said carefully. “Why were you helping us?�

“Because I heard you talkin’ wid Clara last night,� Chloe said softly. There was silence for a long moment. Corina held her breath.

“Well?� said John impatiently. “What was dey sayin’ dat made you wanna help ‘em so much you’d lie to your own husband?�

“Don’ pout, John, hear me out,� Chloe snapped. “I don’ quite unnerstan’ everyting I heard,� she continued slowly, “but I know dat you an’ your daughter—I don’ remember her real name, so I’s gonna keep callin’ her Clara—you an’ Clara ain’t from Atlanta at all, or not dis Atlanta.�

“Dey’s from a different Atlanta?� John interrupted disbelievingly.

Connor sighed. “We’re from Atlanta, but…in the future,� he explained resignedly.

“What?� John demanded incredulously. “Dat’s worse den de travellin’ circus!�

“John, keep your voice down!� Chloe scolded him fiercely. “Now you see why he been lyin’?�

John fell silent. Corina shoved the Extendable Ear further into her own right ear with one hand and sent up a quick prayer of thanksgiving for the ingenious English teenagers who had invented it, while she fidgeted with the hem of her dress in the other hand. “I still don’ know as I believe dat,� he said finally. “It’s an awful tall tale, sure as h—�

“John!� Chloe scolded him fiercely, cutting off the rest of his words. There was a slap, as if Chloe had whacked John on the arm.

“But,� John finished, “I trust Chloe, an’ she trusts you. I just got one question more.�

“What’s that?� asked Connor cautiously.

“What happened to de girl’s mudder? De girl said she were dead. Dat anudder lie, or dat de troof?�

Corina relaxed a bit, but she felt the familiar ache as Connor answered, “That was the truth. Corina’s mother died in a car crash when Corina was six.�

There was another silence, before John burst out, “Died in a what?�

Connor remembered himself. “She, er, was killed in…an accident while travelling.�

John murmured in understanding and sympathy. “Poor chile,� Chloe clucked.

“It was my fault,� Connor blurted suddenly. Corina froze.

“What? How?� John demanded, echoing Corina’s thoughts.

Connor took a deep breath, then spoke in a rush. “When my wife was killed, I was devastated. I told myself I’d do anything to stop it. I stole a Time-Turner—that’s the thing we used to go back in time—I stole it from where I work, and I went back to the day she died and tried to stop her from getting hit.

“She had been on her way to visit her father in North Carolina, because he’s getting on in years, and she was worried about him. I knew she had called him that morning on the telephone—� If Connor realised Chloe and John had just lost him, he did not stop to clarify. “—and whatever he had said to her then made her worry. So I snuck into the house when she called, and I messed up the phone line with my wand. But then that just made her think that something was wrong with her dad’s phone line, and then she decided she needed to go see him. So you see, my trying to stop her from going was what made her go! But then that wasn’t all I did, because after—�

“Connor! Connor,� Chloe interrupted. “I don’ know what you’re talkin’ about anymore, but whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault, I’s sure of dat.�

Corina yanked the string from her ear and flung it onto the floor of the loft, but Connor was nearly shouting now, and his voice wafted up to Corina where she sat. “But it was. And that’s why Corina and I have to get back home. We can’t change the past. If we change history, it could have horrific consequences. But I don’t know how to get home. I just want to go home!� he exclaimed, almost hysterically. Corina buried her face in her knees, willing her father to take control again.

Corina could hear Chloe soothing Connor and guiding him inside, telling him it would all look better in the morning. Corina hurriedly slid under her blanket when she heard the ladder creaking as the adults climbed it. Her face to the wall, Corina pretended to be asleep as she felt Connor lie down next to her.

I just want to go home, too, Corina thought miserably. She fingered the Time-Turner which she still wore under her nightdress. Corina went to sleep praying that when she woke up, it would all have been an unsettling dream.

Corina had no such luck, and she and Connor spent the next several days working in the cotton fields with the other slaves. As much as they wanted to get home, they still had no idea how to do it, and every day’s labor left them too exhausted to do more than collapse into bed, much less solve the conundrum.

On Saturday afternoon, the slaves were let off a couple hours earlier than usual. “Go down to de spring an’ wash up,� Chloe told Corina. “You’s gonna see someting new tonight.�

Corina trotted obediently down the now-familiar path that she had seen Ben take her first morning in the cabin. She walked past a small grove of trees and stopped to admire a fallen maple leaf. It was green at its widest part down by the stem, but each of its three triangular prongs was yellow with a hint of red at the tip. Corina picked up the leaf and twirled it as she walked along.

Corina had walked this path before in the early morning with the water bucket, but the scene painted before her as she walked atop a ridge overlooking the fields never ceased to strike her with its beauty. She could see the patchwork of brown cotton fields speckled with white, edged with dark green windbreaks of conifer trees. The sun was setting behind Corina, the forest casting long shadows on the path. In the distance to the north, the last rays of sunlight glistened off the surface of a river, creating a silvery ribbon that could barely be seen through the trees.

To the south was a grassy hill, on top of which stood the mansion where Master Grayson lived with his family. It was a hugely impressive, white building with a grey shingled roof and an abundance of glass windows. Corina could see a female slave wandering about the well-kept garden, calling for someone.

Corina turned reluctantly from the picturesque landscape and followed the path as it curved westward and reached the source of a small stream. There she crouched on the bank amongst the rushes and splashed water on her hands and face, rinsing off a week’s worth of dust and dirt.

Corina felt someone watching her. She glanced up into the face of a young boy about six years of age. The first thing Corina noticed about the boy was that he was clean. The second thing she noticed, which rather explained the first, was that he was white. The clean, white boy stared at Corina curiously.

“What’s your name?� he asked, when he saw Corina watching him.

“Clara,� Corina answered after a moment’s consideration. Even though Chloe and John now knew the truth, they still called her Clara, so it was best to stay consistent.

“Mine’s Walter,� said the boy.

“Hello, Walter,� Corina said politely. Who was this strange Walter? He didn’t seem to care that Corina was a slave; he barely seemed to notice. Corina looked at him closely. He was impeccably dressed in a white shirt, brown trousers and brown leather shoes. His face and hands, as previously noted, were clean, but his trousers had fresh grass stains and his hair was mussed.

“Why are you so dirty?� asked Walter. “The slaves who take care of me in the house aren’t dirty.� So he did know she was a slave. Corina looked down at her ragged dress and muddy hands self-consciously.

“I don’t live in the house,� she answered, defensively. “I work in the fields.�

“Oh.� He nodded as if he understood, but Corina did not think he really did. Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he asked, “Why don’t you take a bath?�

Corina thought for a moment and decided on the simple truth: “I don’t have a place to take one.�

Walter considered this, then shrugged it off and tried a new tack. “You don’t talk like a slave.�

“You don’t talk like a master,� Corina retorted shortly. She did not like the direction this conversation was taking.

“I’m not your master, Papa is,� Walter explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Corina blinked. So this was the master’s son? “Your papa might not like it if he saw you talking to me.� She was not sure why she said it, but it was the truth.

“Why not?� Walter wanted to know. Corina was not sure what to say to this, so she answered truthfully again.

“I don’t know. He just wouldn’t.�

Walter was not convinced. “My papa’s real nice. He gives me presents.�

“What kind of presents?� Corina inquired, hoping to lead Walter onto safer ground.

“One time he gave me a hunting dog. He says when I’m older I’ll go hunting with him. His name’s Pointer,� Walter boasted proudly.

“That’s cool.�

“Huh?�

“Oh, I mean that’s…that’s good.� Corina smacked herself mentally.

“Oh. Yes, I guess it is. Papa goes hunting a lot. An’ he rides around the farm and looks at things. He’s not at home a lot.�

“My papa works a lot, too,� said Corina, glancing distractedly at the sun beginning to sink below the trees. Corina looked around for an escape route. Maybe if she threw a stone into the bushes, he would go after it?

Corina hurriedly finished washing and dried herself with her dress as Walter prattled on about something else. Corina nodded complacently and broke in, “Uh, Walter, I’m sorry, but I have to go now. It was nice to meet you.�

“Nice to meet you,� Walter repeated immediately, his good breeding kicking in instinctively. He held out his hand to Corina. She shook it bemusedly and waved as Walter scampered back into the bushes and out of sight.

Corina hurried back to the cabin, much to Chloe’s relief. “I was beginnin’ to wonder if you’d fell in,� she remarked. “Go see ‘Liza, she’s got someting for you.�

Eliza tied a green ribbon around Corina’s head. “It matches your dress,� she told Corina, smiling.

“What’s happening?� Corina asked, her curiosity piqued by the special preparations.

“You’ll see,� said Eliza with a mysterious wink. She tied a pink ribbon around her own hair to match her dress. Chloe had pinned a blue ribbon onto her cap.

“Come on,� urged Ben from the doorway where he was waiting impatiently. “We’re gonna be late! Ain’t you wimmin ready yet?�

“Hold your horses, we’s comin’,� said Chloe, bustling to the door. “All right, lead de way, Ben.�

They walked from the cabin across the fields toward the mansion. They stopped at the door of an old, unused barn. Warm light issued from the open doorway in the gathering darkness. Loud talking and laughing could be heard from within, as well as the music of a fiddle or two. Corina eagerly followed Ben inside.

The spacious floor of the barn was strewn with hay, and bales of hay stood around the edges and in the rafters. Lanterns sat on the floor and hung from the beams, filling the room with cheerful yellow light. Two fiddlers stood on hay bales in one corner, striking up a merry tune. Some people stood along the walls talking and laughing with one another, but most were in the centre, dancing raucously to the music. Eliza was immediately heralded by a group of young girls standing near the door. John led Connor over to some of the men and began talking. Chloe was summoned by a friend of hers who wanted some cooking advice for another friend. This left Corina and Ben to stand next to one another, feeling awkward.

As one tune ended and another began, the couples on the floor changed partners, and Ben glanced sideways at Corina, who stared unabashedly back. “Oh, come on, den, dance wi’ me if you gonna keep starin’ like that,� Ben said grudgingly, gingerly taking Corina by the wrist and pulling her onto the floor. Corina giggled; she could not help it. The lively music had lifted her out of her exhaustion and set her feet to tapping and her mouth to grinning. It was a bit awkward at first, but soon enough she and Ben stopped trying to dance properly and just galloped around the room with the other children, dodging the taller folks, chasing each other, shouting and laughing.

At one point Corina caught sight of Eliza dancing with a young man. Corina stopped in her tracks and Ben nearly crashed into her. “Isn’t that the man who—?� Corina started to ask, pointing. In her surprise and confusion she failed to complete her sentence, but Ben followed her gaze and caught her meaning.

“Yes, he’s de one what beat ole Aunt Hannah near to dead,� he said bitterly. “His name’s Aaron, an’ Eliza’s near as much in love wid him as wid de missus.�

“But…why?� Corina spluttered. It was not so much the sight of Eliza with Aaron that startled her, as much as the joy and love that were obvious in Aaron’s face as he gazed at his partner. The image rose in Corina’s mind of that same face, hard and without feeling, and the sound of the whip as it cracked in his hand.

“Why she in love wid him? Don’ ask me,� said Ben derisively. “He ain’t no proper black man if he goin’ round beatin’ his brudders an’ sisters like dat. He tink he’s white, dat’s his problem.�

“It’s her as tinks she’s white,� one of the other boys interjected indignantly. “She go prancin’ round up dere at de house all day, servin’ coffee and beggin’ favors. Dey’s a good match, I says.�

“My sister ain’t do no prancin’,� Ben retorted angrily, gesturing threateningly with his fist. “You ain’t got no right to say dat.�

“I gonna say whatever I please, an’ you ain’t gonna stop me no how,� the other boy responded stoutly. “Your sister ain’t gotta try too hard to act white, you know dat. She’s half white by blood. She couldn’t be one of us no matter what she did.�

Corina squealed along with several other little girls in the vicinity when Ben leaped at his opponent and they began rolling on the ground, punching and kicking at each other as the dancers jumped out of the way.

The brawl had not gone on for long before two brawny arms reached down and pulled the boys apart roughly. John held the other boy at arm’s length and brought his face down into Ben’s. “Benjamin, what you tink you doin’, fightin’ at a barn dance? You’s a disgrace,� he scolded him sharply.

Benjamin sported a cut lip, and his left eye was beginning to swell. Panting from the scuffle, he glared up at his father sullenly, his brown eyes bright. “He was insultin’ Eliza,� he muttered, dropping his gaze to his feet.

“You’s makin’ your sister ashamed, fightin’ over her like dat,� said John. Corina glanced over her shoulder at Eliza. She had stopped dancing and stood watching the scene in confusion. Aaron stood behind her with his hands around her waist. Corina caught his eye and stared at him stonily. He frowned slightly at her challenging gaze. His eyes widened in recognition, and he gave her a guilty smile. Corina frowned thoughtfully and turned away.

The dance progressed without further hindrance, until the moon was high overhead and the stars filled the sky. They bathed the fields in silvery light as Connor, Corina and their hosts made their way back to the cabins at the night’s close. As he and Corina skipped ahead, Ben stopped and glanced back at Eliza where she walked hand in hand with Aaron. He looked as if he wanted to make some remark, but Corina distracted him. Tonight’s peace was too precious to spoil with quarrelling.