by Jackie D
Part of her was angry at Morgan for having kept it a secret, but she wasn’t surprised. For all Morgan’s talk and attention, Raven was nothing more than a servant, a means to an end. Raven and her family had done Morgan’s bidding for generations. Was Raven strong enough to finally break free? To halt the eternal cycle? She would’ve said no before last night. She would have said a lot of things before last night, but now she wasn’t sure of anything she’d thought she knew.
A knock at the door jarred her back into her reality. “We need to go,” Morgan said. Raven bristled at the void of any type of emotion in her voice.
Hazel reached for her hand and kissed the tops of her fingers. “It will be okay. We’ll figure it out.”
For the first time in her entire life, Raven believed that it just might be. She leaned over and kissed the side of Hazel’s face, letting her lips linger of her soft cheek until her skin stretched in a smile.
“I’m going to get in the shower. I’ll meet you in Morgan’s room in thirty minutes.” Raven pushed herself out of bed and headed to the bathroom.
Hazel collected her clothes from the floor. “You’re buying me breakfast.”
“Absolutely,” Raven said as she turned on the water.
Twenty-five minutes later, Raven knocked on Morgan’s door, which opened before she had the chance for her hand to stop moving. Ayotunde and Sarah were already there, sitting next to each other on the small couch in the large room.
“Morning,” Raven said as she moved past. She tried not to look at Morgan, still unsure how she felt about the information she’d found out.
“Did you have a good night?” Morgan’s tone was accusatory.
“I did.” Raven didn’t want to play these games with her, not today.
Hazel was next to her a moment later, a hand on her back. “Morning, everyone.”
Morgan rolled her eyes as she stood. “Nice of you two to finally join us. We need to get going.” Morgan motioned for the four of them to come closer.
“What’s going on?” Hazel asked.
Morgan grabbed Raven’s and Sarah’s hands and motioned for the others to do the same. “I don’t have the patience to drive, and I don’t want to deal with the airport, so I’m going to send us to Salem.”
“If you can do this, why do we ever bother with any other transportation?” Hazel asked, sounding annoyed.
Morgan opened one of her eyes. “Because it expends an extraordinary amount of energy, but I have no patience to be with you people any longer than necessary. Now be quiet and focus on your ugly little apartment.”
The look on Hazel’s face indicated that she was going to bite back, but Raven squeezed her hand, and instead, she closed her eyes as she was told. The air around them shook; Raven heard the lamp on the nightstand fall over, and the walls seemed to swim. There were bright lights, cold air, then hot air, more bright lights, then darkness. Finally, the room seemed like it collapsed into itself only to open again in Hazel’s living room.
Raven thought she might fall over. Her chest felt as if someone was stepping on it, her vision was blurry, and her ears were ringing. The other women were staring at her, trying to touch her; they were asking her questions, but the ringing was so loud she couldn’t hear anything. Hazel stood over her, worried lines etched under eyes. Hazel put both hands on her shoulders and soothed. It took a few seconds, but the fuzz started to clear from Raven’s mind. She blinked back tears and started coughing. The cough was so consuming, it shook her whole body with the ferocity of a heavy punch to the chest.
“Oh yes, the trip would be much harder on Raven; she isn’t one of us,” Morgan said.
Hazel turned on her. “What the fuck, Morgan?”
Morgan walked around the small space, seeming to inspect her new surroundings. “Oh, relax. She’s fine.”
Raven grasped Hazel’s arm and nodded. “I’m okay.”
Hazel moved her over to the couch and sat her down. “I’ll get you some water.”
Morgan sat next to Raven and patted her leg. “Don’t cross me, Dare.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Raven accepted the glass from Hazel, knowing it was already too late for that, and there was no turning back.
* * *
After hours of tossing and turning, Sarah got out of bed, threw on a pair of sweats, and headed toward the door of Hazel’s apartment. With so much weighing so heavily on her mind, she knew further effort toward sleep would be in vain. She threw on a jacket from an antique coatrack, and as she was turning the doorknob, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“What troubles you, Sarah?” Ayotunde whispered behind her.
“Sleep be not my luxury this night,” Sarah replied. “I mean to explore the village to ease my beleaguered mind.”
“’Tis too late to explore alone,” Ayotunde said, wrapping herself in a sweater and following her out the door.
They walked together, holding hands in silence, Sarah inhaling the crisp night air, recalling when it was pure and untainted by any of the fabrications of the modern age. Although the village appeared nothing like the way she’d left it, an unmistakable vibration of familiarity pulsed through her with alarming intensity the more ground they covered. At times, she and Ayotunde needed to remind each other that otherwise ordinary farmers armed with muskets and makeshift badges weren’t poised to leap at them from the shadows and whisk them back to the custody of the court.
“Sarah, we walk for miles. Will you tell me the nature of what troubles you?”
Sarah didn’t answer her as she noticed a sign indicating they’d arrived at a place called Proctor’s Ledge. She moved closer to Ayotunde as a chill engulfed her that had naught to do with weather. She rubbed the back of her arms as her body began to tremble. “This place…the stench of wickedness doth linger.”
Ayotunde looked up at her. “Pray, Sarah. Speak plain.”
“’Tis where the hangings commenced.”
“You sense it?”
“Aye. This be where my friend, Bridget Bishop, drew her last breath on earth. I like not what it portend here.”
“This be the hallowed ground Morgan speak of,” Ayotunde said, pointing into the darkness. “The portal back be yonder.”
Dread smacked Sarah’s heart. She took both of Ayotunde’s hands in hers. “I want not to go back. I fear for us, Ayotunde. A prodigious danger awaits us upon our return.”
“The choice be not ours, Sarah. If we disobey Morgan, she be knowing it.”
Sarah sighed and stepped away from her, knowing she was right. Even if they fled Salem and traveled far away, Morgan was the witch queen. She’d find them wherever they sought refuge. But she also knew what it would mean for her and Ayotunde when they returned. Even if they weren’t hanged, they’d have to part, and Sarah would have to resume her life with Thomas. The thought of losing Ayotunde again was too much to bear.
“Sarah?” Ayotunde stretched her arms around Sarah’s torso in the dark.
She draped her arms over Ayotunde’s, and when Ayotunde rested her head against Sarah’s back, she could no longer suppress her tears. She turned around, enveloped Ayotunde in her arms, and bawled into the unforgiving night.
After a moment, Ayotunde took Sarah’s face in her hands. “Oh, my Sarah,” she said, her own cheeks streaked with tears. “Don’t you know nothing can break the spell of love between us? When we return, we pray, and we find a way back to each other.”
“No!” Sarah broke free of Ayotunde’s embrace and wiped her tears away in protest. “Prayer hath done nothing for us. I love you, Ayotunde, to the depths of my soul. Now that my heart hath felt the sweet burn of your love and my body, your heavenly touch, I’ll not let you go, not so for the world and its cruelty to keep us apart.”
“If we refuse, Blaise will grow strong and victorious and evil reign for all time. The fall of good in the world be upon us.”
“Good hath no meaning to me if I must lose you for it.”
“Sarah, that be not tru
e. You be the most pious of women. Your heart be full of only good.”
“Ayotunde, my love for you hath awakened a new woman. If I be forced to choose between piety and you, piety stands not a chance.”
“Pray, speak such blasphemy no more, Sarah. We go to Miss Hazel.”
“Aye,” Sarah said, resigned to the fact that despite the depth of her passion for Ayotunde, the matter was indeed out of her hands. As the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, she embraced Ayotunde against her bosom and squeezed her tightly, searching the stars for some shred of hope.
As they walked back to Hazel’s apartment, Sarah sensed a whirl of negative energy behind them. She glanced over her shoulder, but nothing trailed them, at least nothing her eyes could discern in the pre-dawn twilight. Without a word, she gripped Ayotunde’s hand tighter and picked up their pace.
Ayotunde also looked back. “I feel it, too.”
“We are yet a distance from Hazel’s dwelling,” Sarah said. “Let us keep onward. Perhaps whatever it be will not follow.”
“I think whatever be pursuing us mean to accomplish what it set out to.”
“Aye.” Sarah looked over her shoulder but saw nothing taking form behind them.
As they broke into a jog, she pushed Ayotunde ahead of her to shield her from whatever danger was looming. As their pace progressed into a full sprint, so did the sound of extra footsteps on pavement behind them.
“Run, Sarah,” Ayotunde shouted over her shoulder as she pulled farther ahead.
Although Sarah was trying harder to run, she was slowing. Something was drawing her back as though she were yoked to a bridle. “Keep going, Ayotunde,” she shouted. “Don’t stop.”
She surrendered to the force and swung around to face her pursuers. Lucien McCoulter and Tammi Lee Sanderson stood before her, their legs planted apart and fists poised before their faces.
“Not such a badass without your witch queen protector, are you?” Lucien smirked and spat on the ground.
Tammi stepped forward. “Looks like you can’t even count on your little house servant when shit gets real.”
“Sarah?” Ayotunde called out from down the street.
“She’s over here,” Tammi replied. “About to meet her maker. Care to join her?”
“No, Ayotunde,” Sarah shouted. “Turn away. Go back to Hazel’s.”
“Ooj. Brave Puritan woman,” Lucien said as he moved closer. “You and your coven of amateurs are no match for Blaise. Any resistance you put up will only be in vain.”
“You’ll never succeed in defeating Blaise or us,” Tammi said. “Blaise has empowered us to create an empire here, and that’s exactly what we’ve done, and in a surprisingly short time. This pathetically weak country was ripe for it, and Blaise had the foresight to strike at precisely the right time.”
Sarah stared at their menacing faces, unwavering in her defiance. “Many time in history society hath been ripe for evil, and many time evil hath been struck down. What prompt you to think it be different now?”
Lucien snorted. “A brave and educated Puritan woman. You certainly are ahead of your time.”
“My father was a proper teacher. He hath raised no fool.”
Tammi mimed sticking her finger down her throat. “What could be more nauseating than precolonial feminism?” She looked at Lucien. “Can we get this over with now?”
“Patience, my lovely daughter,” he said as he circled Sarah. “Killing Sarah Hutchinson Cooper has been number one on my bucket list since 1690. I’d like to savor the exquisite flavor a little longer, if you don’t mind.”
Sarah swallowed her fear, praying Ayotunde had reached Hazel’s apartment and was coming back with the lot of them. Although she’d been growing confident in her powers, the ominous vibes emanating from Lucien and Tammi seemed to be overpowering whatever strength and skill she’d been able to cultivate.
“Don’t savor it too long, Father. That other one could be summoning Morgan le Fay right now.”
A low grumble of laughter rolled up his throat. “Soon she’ll be irrelevant, too. Blaise has almost reached his full potency, and our positions within his regime are all but secured.” He paused to inhale the crisp early morning air and then walked up to Sarah’s face. “Ah. I can almost smell the burnt embers of Morgan’s realm as it smolders into oblivion.”
Sarah’s eyes remained fixed on Lucien’s as her nose involuntarily crinkled at his acrid breath. “And if Blaise’s realm were to triumph over Morgan’s as you say, how is it you be so certain that you, too, shall profit?”
“Blaise’s word, that’s how.” For a second, Lucien seemed somewhat less than convinced…but only for a second. “He’s hand-selected me to orchestrate the plan that will topple Morgan le Fay and her white realm for once and all time. And I will not let him down. We’re as close to victory as I am to your luscious mouth, Sarah Hutchinson.” He licked his lips as he leered and moved to kiss her.
Sarah raised her hands, and Lucien lurched back with such force that he landed on his backside in the middle of the road several feet away.
“Enough of this foreplay, Father,” Tammi shouted. “If you don’t kill her, I will.”
Lucien climbed to his feet and held up his hand to Tammi. “Silence, child. She is mine to destroy.” He walked toward Sarah, holding out his arm, his hand upturned and fingers pointing at her. “You still haven’t learned your lesson, have you?”
Sarah felt her throat constricting as Lucien’s hand slowly closed in sync with his approach. She tried to impel him back, but her powers waned as he held her in his spell. She focused on a garbage can on the street corner, trying to hoist it and assail him with it, but she only managed to knock it over on its side.
“Harder, Daddy, harder,” Tammi yelled. “She still has power. Choke her! Kill her!”
Sarah gurgled as she struggled to breathe, dropping to her knees in the middle of the street. She chopped at his arm with her fist as it hurtled toward her, but the energy behind it was unrelenting. His eyes seemed to flame when his hand clamped on her neck. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed even harder. “You will never defeat Blaise.” He breathed heavily through clenched teeth as he worked at snuffing her out.
Sara’s vision blurred as she fought to remain conscious, but his choke hold left her unable to imbibe enough air. After fading for what could’ve been a minute or a year, she awakened on the sidewalk to the contentious shouts of both Lucien and Tammi.
“Tammi, let go of me,” he shouted as she held him in a headlock.
“I’m trying,” she shouted as she and Lucien wrestled in the street. “She’s making me restrain you, and I can’t loosen my grip.”
“Try harder,” he growled, “or I’ll…”
“Are you waking, my love?” Ayotunde asked Sarah as she maintained her sight and outstretched arm on the writhing mass that was Lucien and Tammi.
Sarah stood and rubbed her sore throat. “You did not do as I instructed you.” She smiled at Ayotunde, her heart pounding as she watched that thrilling woman exercise complete control over their foes.
“Aye. And it be a good thing I didn’t,” she replied with a playful grin. “He be wringing your neck like a chicken’s if I had.”
Sarah looked down and couldn’t help letting out a soft chuckle. “Now, what are we to do with this?” She pointed at Lucien and Tammi still tussling like rival siblings over a favored toy. “Daylight soon be upon us.”
Ayotunde shrugged. “I could let them kill each other.”
“Mmm,” Sarah uttered as she pondered the option. “Methinks Morgan may not approve. They must be in fit condition to return to sixteen and ninety-two.”
“Aye. But I be sure to love watching that man draw his last breath. He do remind me of the slave trader what took me from my mother.”
Sarah glanced in their direction with disdain, imagining the pleasure in smiting them both and leaving them there in the road for a vulture’s morning feast. “Were he not a feckless drunkard when he was
Samuel Cranwell, I might think it indeed possible it were him.” She looked around the neighborhood, seeing buildings and trees more clearly in the orange sunrise. “Dawn be upon us, Ayotunde. Think on what to do with them.”
Ayotunde stared at them and giggled as they continued wrestling. “They be lookin’ weary from the struggle. I think they had enough.” She whipped her arm back, and they parted, stumbling away from each other. Shaking their heads, they seemed dazed as they gathered themselves. Ayotunde wound up her right arm several times, then the left, and Lucien and Tammi punched each other in the face so hard, they fell to the curb, unconscious. She turned to Sarah with a tentative grin, then they linked hands and hopped up and down in their victory.
“Let us return before they wake.” Sarah clutched Ayotunde by the hand, and they sprinted back to Hazel’s apartment.
* * *
Hazel stood at the window in her living room and glanced at the rising sun illuminating her neighborhood, hoping it would bring Sarah and Ayotunde home. What would’ve possessed them to go off by themselves in the middle of the night, knowing the dangers that lurked now that Lucien was aware of their presence and their plan? She stopped cold when something else occurred to her: What if Lucien and his two bad seeds were what had enticed them away in the first place? Just as she was about to wake Raven and Morgan in a panic, Sarah and Ayotunde walked in, their faces as effervescent as tourists back from a sightseeing adventure.
“Where the hell have you two been?” Hazel ran a hand through her messy hair as her heart thrummed against her chest. “Do you know how worried I was? And how hard it is to lie to a witch queen?”
“You lied for us?” Sarah said.
“Uh, yeah,” Hazel said. “At which point, Morgan strung me up on my own coatrack until I told her the truth. Not that she needed me to. She knew exactly where you guys were with her innate witch GPS, but apparently, watching me make a fool of myself was her idea of entertainment.”
