BONES OF A WITCH (Detective Marcella Witch's Series. Book 4)

by Dana Donovan

  Naturally that tweaked my curiosity, especially when I noticed how she kept looking suspiciously over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching. I found myself sinking down low in my seat, peering out the side window just above the doorframe. I watched as she placed the box onto the backseat of her car, jumped in behind the wheel and sped off down the street.

  Now, I know it wasn’t any of my business, and another guy might have just called out to her, said hello, waved politely and then let her go about her business. But something inside told me to follow her; police instincts maybe, though I doubt Tony would have credited me with that. Whatever my reasoning, I started the car up, dropped it into gear and tailed her clear across town.

  I thought I had lost her a couple of times, having pulled way back so that she wouldn’t spot me in areas where traffic thinned to almost nothing. Eventually though, the roads became so deserted I could only guess that I was still behind her, expecting that at any turn she would be there waiting for me and that I might end up ramming right into her back bumper.

  But that didn’t happen, and as luck had it, I spotted her car from a comfortable distance stopped on the side of a lonely county road just outside New Castle. She had angled in on a ninety in front of the old access gates leading to a quarry that had long since been abandoned. And though I knew that it’s still a popular place for teenagers to go and drink at night, the odds of finding anyone there on a Sunday morning were nearly nil. It’s the perfect place to do—whatever—if you don’t want anyone to see you do it.

  I waited until she got the box out of the back seat, carried it through the gaping hole in the fence and disappeared down a grassy trail. Then I drove up beyond her, stashing my car around a blind bend. After that, tailing her got a lot easier.

  Most people don’t know this, but I’m one-quarter Chippewa Indian, as well as a former Eagle Scout. My grandfather, who taught me to track deer up in the hills, once gave me the Indian name that his grandfather gave to him: Timber Fox. I tried getting Carlos to call me that, or even just Fox, but he never has.

  I picked up Lilith’s trail starting at the fence. She had followed a well-defined path for about twenty yard before branching off down another less traveled track that took her through hedgerows of thorny thickets and heavy scrub.

  Further down, I found the ground lay deep with pine needles and deciduous leaves, alternating in scattered patches as the mix of trees dictated. Below the leaves, the spongy earth allowed the subtle impressions of Lilith’s footprints to telegraph her journey. If she thought she was being followed, she certainly chose her course well. Anyone else would have made a ruckus thrashing about the brush, snapping twigs and stomping leaves following her, but not me; not the Timber Fox.

  I caught up with her about another thirty yards in, where the vegetation graciously gave way to an open circle of flat grass and firm ground. And there, behind a dogwood shrub, I hunkered low and watched.

  By the time I took up my position, Lilith had already laid out what looked like bones onto the ground in a pattern resembling a human form. A few days earlier, Tony told me about her claiming her Aunt Ursula’s bones from a city excavation site down at the cemetery, and so I guessed those were them. I hoped so anyway, otherwise they were Tony’s and that meant I’d have to take back all the bad things I had ever said about him not appreciating Lilith. Man, I hate eating crow. Still, I suppose that would mean that she’d be free to date again. Hmm….

  After completing a few final adjustments in bone placement, Lilith stood erect, raised her hands to the sky and began chanting something in Latin, or maybe Greek, or some Aboriginal monkey speak; I don’t know, but it was bizarre. I know I heard the word Grimoire spoken. I recognized that word from some of the stories Tony told us about his rite of passage ceremony.

  Whatever the words, I know they held some powerful influences over the skies above. Almost immediately upon uttering them, a low dark cloud formed directly over Lilith and her collection of bones. The wind around her picked up in a spiral, spinning slowly at first in a counter-clockwise motion, stirring up the grass and leaves and collecting them in a train like a ribbon trailing in the breeze.

  I watched in awe, stooped on knees and wanting so much to stand and applaud her mastery of kinetic manipulation. But I dared not, and before long, the spinning vortex around her increased in both mass and velocity, at times blurring her out of focus for the curtain of debris trapped within its walls. It was then I sensed the true threat for her safety. I remembered Tony telling me how a similar phenomenon had wiped Lilith’s house completely of its slab, and if not for the fact that he and she were alive today to testify to it, I might have run to Lilith then and tried to stop her.

  At that moment, the cloud overhead began churning in colors, morphing from dark grey and black to deep purple with streaks of cobalt and crimson; the cyclone’s grip below squeezing ever tighter, constricting like a python to barely an arm’s length in either direction.

  Tiny sparks like fireflies flickered all around its perimeter, snapping and crackling in static electric charges that seemed to increase in number and intensity with the growing tempest. Lilith, the conductor of this great orchestra, bowed on one knee, making a fist over the bones. She then opened her fist, allowing what looked like ordinary beach sand to cascade over her palm, into the wind.

  A clap of thunder erupted. The swirling wall of wind turned a crisp ocean blue, then yellow and then finally, in a brief flash, white, with a blast of heat so harsh it pushed me to the ground.

  When I rose again it was gone, all of it: the cloud, the wind, the ribbons of grass and leaves; everything. But in its place stood a miracle of science, nature and whatever other affinity of Cosmo-creations one can accredit if he so believes. I rubbed the scratchy bits of dirt from my eyes. My jaw hung slack. My throat narrowed to a tiny straw-sized opening that allowed just barely enough air to tunnel through it so that I might not pass out from lack of oxygen.

  But I notice none of that at the time, instead it was all I could do to wrap my mind around the sight of two preposterously gorgeous women standing before me: one, of course, was Lilith; the other her stark double, the near spitting image of perfection personified.

  She stood facing Lilith at comfortable ease and totally nude. Her hair, silky long and thick fell across her shoulders like an ebony tide, splitting symmetrically down her back and front and just barely covering her nipples.

  She smiled at Lilith with a teasing grin, suggesting familiarity in acquaintance and finality in acceptance. Her body shape and tone mirrored Lilith’s exactly. Their bewitching eyes, haunting and beguiling, shared a seductive allure unmatched by any siren or fairy temptress. Even that sassy stance that defines Lilith so keenly found compliments in this other woman’s posture.

  In the still of early morning, with the faint whisper of falling leaves still settling from the sudden absence of spiraling winds, I heard Lilith say, “You look well, Ursula, all things considered.”

  Ursula approached Lilith and the two hugged. “And thou,” she said, “hath thou waited long?”

  Lilith shrugged lightly. “Only sixteen and three hundred.”

  “Years?”

  “Yes.”

  “Blessed. How came this tardy spell?”

  “It’s a long story; don’t ask.” She turned suddenly; catching me off guard but luckily did not see me. Then she bent over and reached into the box that she had carried in with her, removing a small bundle of clothes and handing them to Ursula.

  “Here, put these on,” she said. “They’re not exactly what you’re used to, but I think you’ll find them most comfortable.”

  Ursula unfurled a pair of blue jeans and held them out at arm’s length. “Breeches?” The pitch in her voice made her sound young and naïve. “What costume have thee presented me that I should dress as a man?”

  “Not a man,” said Lilith, “a woman. We have come far in three hundred years. We dress as we please now. We are emancipated. Women in this c
entury vote; we hold jobs of all sorts: doctors, lawyers, warriors and politicians; there is no position barred to us these days.”

  “None?”

  “Not in America.”

  “Have we a woman pope?”

  “A pope?”

  “Aye.”

  “No, that’s not America, but check back in another three hundred years. Maybe the church will give in a little on that. In the meantime, get dressed.”

  Ursula stood in silent contemplation, scrutinizing the garment with a level eye and a curious grin. She seemed especially amused with the zipper, which she figured out quickly and delighted in repeating the function of zipping it up and down a number of times. She then looked at Lilith, only then realizing how complementary the jeans looked on her. “You wear no shift below these?” she said.

  “Shift?”

  “Undergarment.”

  “Oh, right.” Lilith smiled with hesitance. “No, no shift. I’d have brought you a thong, but I didn’t do the laundry yesterday, what with the witch’s trial and all.”

  “Pray tell, you have been to a witch’s trial?”

  “Been to one? I was the guest of honor at one last night. I would have been hanged had I not killed Putnam and Hilton.”

  “Putnam?”

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  “Aye, by name; he is the devil, for ought I know. At my trial, he did cause the children torment. In my presence they fell into fits uncontrolled, to which he put blame unto me.”

  “So you think, Ursula, but that was not entirely Putnam’s doing.”

  “Oh, but it was. Had I not seen with eyes my own I might not believe, but his powers are strong and affright me most grievously.”

  “I know, but you see it was all a sham. And in your case, it wasn’t Putnam’s doing alone; it was the children’s, too. They only pretended to be possessed by your specter so that they could see you hang with the others. The attending adults, most of them, simply got caught up in the hysteria. But a few, like Putnam, went along to settle old scores and to profit from the fallout. None of it would have been possible without the presumed innocence of the children, however.”

  The thought of that brought Ursula nearly to tears. I watched her gaze drift away, her thoughts with them, perhaps back to a simpler time when good and evil were perceived easily as black and white, and where all children were considered blessed unless tainted by agents of the devil, to which evidence would be obvious and no blame could they know.

  Lilith reached out for Ursula’s arm and shook it gently, drawing her back from the past. I watched (ashamed, I must admit) from a crouch behind the dogwood brush, as Ursula finished getting dressed, stepping first into the jeans Lilith had given her, and then putting on a bra, a blouse, stockings and boots. She stepped back, posing with arms splayed for Lilith, as if modeling in front of a mirror. “What thoughts have thee now, sister?”

  “Wow,” said Lilith, smiling as brightly as I had ever seen her smile. “You look hot, girl; not bad for an old bag of bones; don’t you think?”

  “I do,” she said. “I should think the devil himself hath dressed me in sin for all I know. But if I must tell you, I will; it doth pleaseth me.”

  “Good. If it pleases you, it pleases me, too. Now come. We have business to take care of in Salem before the day is through.”

  “This day?”

  “Yes.”

  “But are we not still in New Castle?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Salem is a half night and a day away, even with a horse of strong and good nature, a carriage can only travel so swiftly.”

  Lilith placed her arm around Ursula’s shoulder and started her down the path toward the gate. “Yes, but you see I have a carriage with a couple of hundred horses to spare. It’s called a Mustang and I feed it high-test.”

  “Pray tell, have things changed?”

  “Oh, my, yes they have. What once we thought impossible even through witchcraft is now common occurrence through our understanding of everyday science and nature. Why, we witches hardly want for anything anymore.”

  “Uh, except for men,” Ursula joked.

  To which Lilith returned, “No, we even have a good substitute for that. It starts with something called batteries. Let me tell you about it. First you….”

  Ursula Bishop:

  Strange things of many have I seen with my own eyes, yet for this new world did I imagined but not. Even the Grimoire doth pale by comparison to such ways of modern offerings. Lilith, my dear sister of the coven, how came she to return my bones to flesh I must wonder. She hath dressed me strangely, doused my hunger with exotic foods she calls burgers and fries and quenched my thirst with a bubbling elixir known to the merchant as cola. Should I live another ten lifetimes, I shall see not the changes in it as I have in living ten hours in this.

  Remarkable mysteries and magic of grand scale confront me in manners not dreamed of by man or beast. Carriages propelled by invisible horses glide at speeds of which the hawk would envy. Voices in Lilith’s carriage sing out from a box with music she commands with a simple twist of a black button. Surely her witchcraft is powerful and she most conversant with all matters inclusive. I believe I shall learn much in her providence.

  `Twas in her carriage that I inquired as to the nature of our journey. “To Salem,” she answered presently.

  “Aye, for you hath said as much already, but you saith not why.”

  She returned to me a serpent’s grin, to which I delighted. “Ursula, would you like to get back at the people who have persecuted our kind for hundreds of years?”

  “Our sisters of the coven?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Oh, how thee know it? Their blood doth cry for vengeance. We are but deaf should we not heed their pleas?”

  “Exactly. So then, that’s where we’re going: to see the magistrate and to meet the congregation that sat in condemnation of our souls.”

  “The magistrate? He is at Prayer?”

  “I’m guessing, seeing I killed his pastor.”

  “Oh, but he is not of human blood, I fear.”

  “He is of ancient blood, but human enough to spill. Can you tell me his weakness?”

  To this I shook my head. “His weakness? What do I know? You tell me more than I am aware. In my day, the magistrate held only that power which the people bestowed upon him. But for a miss-beholding word taken to heart he might succumb to a blight of confidence, one that could spread like a plague and befall him.”

  “A miss-beholding word, eh?”

  “Aye, where power rests on fears of the people, so doth weakness.”

  “Hysteria.” Lilith’s serpent-grin returned slowly. “Yes, the accused turning the tables on the accusers. I like that.” She made motion to the back of the carriage upon its seat. “In the box you will find a couple of old-fashioned looking dresses…well, maybe not so old-fashioned to you, but get them out and tell me what you think. Will they let us blend in with the congregation?”

  I did as Lilith asked, questioning not her intentions, for I believed I knew well her plans. The dresses as I found were most beautiful, and so I told her. “How came they from so far to you?”

  She looked at me queerly. “How came they?”

  “From so far,” I said, pointing at the collar. “And with such exquisite stitching.”

  She leaned in to read the merchant’s mark. “It says made in China.”

  “Indeed. Thy witchcraft must be powerful.”

  Strange thought I at how funny she found that. I sat hushed in humility for the journey’s reach, which brought us presently to the village of Salem, but in ways known not to my recollect. This village was great and large, perhaps the size of London Town as I think. Where no cobblestones lined the streets, there lay a single smooth stretch of earth. Blacktop, Lilith named it, yet it ebbed and tided like cooled lava, graceful as the landscape itself. The buildings too were of ole, yet I knew them not. Glass panes once stingy upon a facade now st
ood proud in their employ.

  Perhaps most queer if I must say were the signs abound upon each turn. They spoke of witches in a merry sense. Come ye to the Witch Museum, one shingle offered; Eat Witch Flavored Ice Cream another waved. And did we not pass The Sand Witch Shoppe, The Witch’s Well and The Witch Bitch Bar? We did most certain, but pray tell what that was?

  Then Lilith revealed unto me the meaning of this hypocrisy. My beloved village hath gained in profits from the travesties befallen my kindred souls. I asked in rhetorical tone, hath thou not taken enough in innocence that thee should spare none so endless torment of the restless? What sin hath we to atone beyond a single lifetime? Be it life itself? I fear indeed, for ought I know my penance is forever served.

  Carlos Rodriquez:

  I was sitting at my desk when Dominic called, his voice in a huff, out of breath for some trot he had taken through a grassy field somewhere.

  “Whoa!” I told him. “Slow down, Dom. Tell me again where you are.”

  “I’m driving now. I’m on the road to Salem.”

  “What? Why the hell are you going back to Salem? I thought you went to pick up Tony.”

  “I did, but listen. You’re never going to believe this. When I got to Tony’s, I spotted Lilith and she…. No, forget it. We haven’t time for all that now. You’ve got to go and get Tony and come out here as quickly as possible. Lilith is up to something big.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m leaving now, but don’t hang up. I need you to tell me everything, or Tony will go berserk.”

  “All right, but I don’t know where to start.”

  “How `bout at the beginning?”

  “The beginning, okay, good. See, I went to go pick up Tony and when I got there….”

  What Dominic told me next seemed like a wacky dream, especially the part about the naked woman who looked just like Lilith. I considered maybe it was all just in his dreams, seeing how we had rushed in on Lilith back in the church the night before and found her…out of her fur, so to speak. But Dominic has a level head on his shoulders, and I’ve been around Lilith enough to know that with her, nearly anything is possible. I’ve also been around Tony enough to know that he wasn’t going to like what I had to tell him. For that reason, I filled him in as much as I could over the phone before I got to his house. All things considered, I think he took it well.