Bad Holiday in Witch Town

by Mark Hockley

child, the baby apparently quite well. Still there was that sense of cold disappointment in the woman, but at least she was holding him now and it appeared she would take her duties as a new parent seriously.

  And yet, Beth knew that something was very wrong.

  But she just didn't know what to do about it. Who could she tell? Surely the other witches knew what was going on and would they even care if they didn't?

  She never saw any of the others and was never allowed out of the White Coven House, unless it was to go to one of the schools and then she was always accompanied by a group of the boys and at least one witch as overseer.

  It was maddening. And her feelings of pent up frustration and anger were growing with every passing second.

  Beth even considered trying to broach the subject with one of the older boys, but they were all so submissive and obedient to the witches every instruction that she knew it was at best pointless and at worst perilous.

  Now alone in her windowless prison cell, as she had come to think of it, she sat disconsolately on her bed. She honestly believed she would go crazy if this continued for much longer. Beth had lost track of time and although she knew it wasn't that many days since they had arrived in Witch Town, she really couldn't say exactly how long it was. For perhaps the hundredth time she took out her mobile phone and tapped it idly, knowing her battery was long since dead, but doing it more out of habit than for any logical reason. There was no signal here anyway. These people had no means of contact with the outside world and that seemed to be the way they liked it. She almost threw the phone at the wall, but thought better of it. She would not give in to anger and frustration. She would not give up hope just yet.

  Zack was working alongside Luke again and was trying to think how to let his friend know about his conversation with Jeremiah. The problem was Leonie and Allana seemed intent on staying closer than ever today. Maybe it was because the two boys were using forks to dig a field for planting seeds and the witches were concerned that they might use them as weapons. Whatever the case, they were well within hearing, not that he or his friend were really likely to do anything of that kind anyway. At any other time, Zack might have relished the idea of the dark haired girl being in close proximity, but just then it seemed insufferable.

  "How are you enjoying being married?" Allana called over to Luke, her mood obviously far more buoyant than usual.

  Luke scowled slightly, not sure if was being subjected to ridicule. "It's great," he replied with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

  Either Allana did not recognise his tone or she chose to ignore it, because she continued on in a cheerful voice. "My Husband has proven to be a good choice for me. I am now with child. Perhaps soon Ellie of the Black Coven will receive the same good news." Luke was digging the earth with his fork and when he heard this he almost speared his foot with the sharp prongs. He threw an embarrassed glance at the other boy and muttered something inaudible. "Excuse me," Allana voiced, "I did not hear what you said."

  With an expression of total infuriation, Luke pushed the fork viciously into the ground. "I said I'm celibate," he hissed.

  "Excuse me?" the White Coven Witch said, her eyes widening.

  "You heard me." Luke stopped what he was doing and looked her in the eye, all of his pent up emotions bubbling up to the surface. His face was already covered in sweat and grime, but now his cheeks were red with irritation.

  Leonie had said nothing during this exchange and appeared distracted and Zack wondered what she was thinking about. As for this conversation between Allana and his friend, he really did not know how to react.

  "You will do your duty," Allana attested, her good mood fading.

  "My duty!" the boy repeated, "and what will you do if I don't!? Force me!? What kind of insanity is this!?" He threw down his fork in disgust. Now both witches watched him cautiously. "Don't panic," Luke told them with contempt, "if I was going to do something I would kept hold of the damn fork!"

  "You should calm yourself," Leonie advised him.

  "I'm calm," the boy said sourly. "I'm so calm."

  "Take it easy, Luke," Zack chipped in, knowing that his friend was really rattled and not sure what he might do next.

  Luke gave him a grim look. "What are we doing this for anyway? It's all a joke! Everything is a stupid joke!" He kicked at the earth with ferocity. "I'm not only celibate, I've decided I'm gay! What do you think of that!? Is that allowed here!? Or do you kill anyone who doesn't fit in with your plans!?"

  "What is he talking about?" Allana asked, turning from Luke to Zack.

  "You witches are Nazis, do you realise that!? Nazis!" called out Luke, his voice rising.

  "I think this has all gone far enough," Leonie declared. Her gaze found first Zack and then settled on Luke. "You should get back to work or I will be forced to report this."

  "Report to who? The Fuhrer Margaret!?" Luke asked with heavy sarcasm.

  "You are obviously unwell," the blonde haired witch interjected. "Perhaps you should take a rest." Her expression said she was uneasy about the unpredictable behaviour of the boy and what she considered to be his incomprehensible ranting.

  "Do you see this," Luke said, now addressing his friend, "they don't even know do they? Are you really telling me that there are no gay men at all here? Are you seriously telling me you have never heard of the Nazis!?"

  Leonie addressed him with a steely tone. "Things that exist outside do not mean anything to us here. Your history...your ideology does not apply in Witch Town."

  Luke shook his head in utter disgust. "This place is worse than I even thought it was. Sexuality is not ideology. That's just stupid. This place is stupid! I've had enough of it!" And with that he turned and started to walk away, trudging over the rutted earth of the field they had been working in. Beyond them in the distance there was a dense thicket of trees and further on this became a wood and the boy seemed to have made that his destination.

  Leonie glanced at her companion with obvious alarm, but appeared reluctant to act. Allana however had no such reticence. "Stop," she cried out and Luke came to an immediate standstill.

  "What are you doing!?" Zack shouted, afraid that she had hurt the other boy.

  "Bring him back," ordered the witch, "or the next Word I use will cause him a good deal more discomfort."

  With a furious look at both of the women, Zack ran over to his friend and saw that his eyes were almost popping out, a tear rolling very slowly down over his cheek. His lips were clenched shut. "It's okay, don't fight it. It won't last long," Zack reassured him, holding his arm. "You need to get a grip on yourself or things will only get worse."

  Luke's eyes seemed to stare right into him, something in them causing Zack to feel ashamed at his own compliance. But in the end what could they do? This is what happened if they tried to resist. Or they could attempt the same path they had already travelled and maybe someone else would lose their life. If he really believed that they could actually escape that way, Zack wondered if he would be willing to do that again. He really wasn't sure. It wasn't what he wanted, but things were becoming desperate.

  But the reality was he did not believe it would work. All he could do for the moment was hope that there really were others in this place who shared their opposition to the rules of Witch Town. Jeremiah had suggested that was the case. And he had to also hope that there was some way that they could challenge this perverse system and somehow overthrow it.

  18

  Something about this book makes my skin crawl. I don't even like touching it. But I need to find out what Margaret's so keen to keep secret. Once I've read it, I will have to try to put it back before she realises it's gone. Easier said than done. Now if I can just get past feeling physically sick even opening the thing, maybe I can start to get to the bottom of what's really going on around here.

  Extracts from the journal of Rebecca Marsh

  March 19th 1612

  My father has finally returned from his extended trip to Central America.
I truly wish I could say I am happy to see him, but his mood as ever is morose. Samuel barely recalls who he is, having not seen his Papa for almost three years. Mama makes pretence that all is well, but I know it is not. He has now locked himself away in his laboratory, takes very little in the way of food or drink and sees no-one.

  March 22nd 1612

  It will be my sixteenth birthday in just two days. I will be presented to society and no doubt expected to begin my quest for a husband. Mama may find herself disappointed in that regard. My Father has asked to see me and I find myself anxious and somewhat uneasy as he has not spoken to me since his return.

  March 24th 1612

  I am sixteen years of age. Many wealthy men now appear to take an interest in me, or so my Mama informs me. I am unimpressed. My interview with my father proved to be even more perplexing than I had anticipated. He seemed strangely overwrought, almost as if he were fearful of something. The pendant he gave me for my birthday is both beautiful and grotesque. He fashioned it himself using a fragment of some ancient stone he discovered on his travels. And while the opaque gem itself is most attractive, it is the bizarre spike he has designed as part of the chain that causes me to refuse to wear it. Apart from the obvious discomfort such an attachment would cause, I find myself repelled by it in a way I cannot articulate.

  March 27th 1612

  Something uncanny and startling has occurred that I can barely relate. I had kept the pendant my father gave me locked away in my bureau, but last night I felt compelled to look upon it once more. Even as I held it in my hands, all at once it took on a life of its own; this is the only way I can describe it and it flew from my grasp to attach itself at the nape of my neck. The spike penetrated my flesh and though I felt no pain, yet there is a peculiar sensitivity, as if in some manner my very energy is being channelled through it. Now I cannot remove it. Although at first my horror was acute, I have to confess this sensation soon subsided and I feel as if I were changed. I know this may seem folly, but within I feel a stirring in my spirit that will not be denied.

  March 29th 1612

  Father is dead. I do not grieve. I have never really felt any affection for him if truth be told. He was always away on his travels so I knew little of him. The physician tells us that it was his heart that gave way. I have taken it upon myself to examine his laboratory and have now seen the immense wooden crate returned with him from Central America. It contains a great, crystalline stone from whence my own small fragment that adorns my neck was taken. I have also found a blueprint for his design for the necklace itself. This I have removed to keep for myself. I may have need of it.

  April 19th 1612

  I am scarcely able to put pen to paper. My heart races madly in my chest. Today I have discovered something astonishing. But I rush ahead of myself. It began when Samuel demanded to be allowed into the garden. The servants called me to intercede as he has become increasingly agitated of late. Mama makes excuses and says that he has been provoked by the death of our father. But I have no tolerance with him. Even as he began to reproach me with his wretched entreaties, I found that I could stand it no longer. It was then that I felt something stir within me; I can only name it an energy coursing through me. And without truly putting thought to the action I said just a single word. Silence. The effect was instantaneous. It was as if Samuel had been struck dumb. I know this will sound absurd but I vow that these events transpired as I have related them. Samuel's inability to speak and mark me, it was so, only persisted for perhaps a few minutes, but it was enough to tell me that something wonderful has taken place and that I am forever altered.

  April 27th 1612

  I must keep my gift secret. Already I see the parallels with the tales of witchcraft I hear gossiped about among the servants. Many of these so-called witches have been put to death in most terrible ways. But my power, as I have come to think of it, is not black magic or any such nonsense. And now I speculate if my Father knew that this pendant would bestow such wonders on its wearer?

  June 13th 1612

  The fire was an accident. I was merely experimenting with employing the Words. And I do feel remorse. My Mama did not deserve to perish in such a way. As for Samuel I find I have no sentiments whatsoever. I have taken lodgings while my family's affairs are put in order by my solicitor. The future beckons me and I am making plans to change my life. I have named my pendant a SpiritHeart as I have become convinced that I am in some way able to channel my very essence into the amulet. My ability grows daily and my command of different Words exhilarates me.

  Ellie put down the manuscript and took a long breath. She didn't know what to make of this. It all seemed so crazy. What she had read so far changed her entire perception of what the witches were. She had simply believed they were throwbacks to the witchcraft of the past, what she had read about or saw in the movies. But of course, when she really thought about it, they were very different.

  No wands, no spells, no black cats. Just Words. And pendants. Just like the one she herself wore.

  Zack trod carefully with Luke after his outburst. It wasn't that he didn't sympathise with his friend, but he sensed that the other boy was buckling under the strain and wanted to do all he could to rein him in and that way, keep him safe.

  In the meantime he wanted to speak with Jeremiah again and attempt to gauge the level of dissatisfaction among the men towards the dominion of the witches. Even if it were just a few dissenters, at least that would mean potential allies. And that was better than nothing.

  He had also wrestled with the decision he had ultimately come to, not to tell Luke. But while it had nothing to do with lack of trust, Zack just felt that it was better, at least for the time being, for he alone to get involved in what was treason as far as the women would be concerned. For now he would only risk himself. Luke had more than enough on his plate anyway.

  At first Zack had been outraged and horrified at the idea of his sister and Luke being married. But he saw now that it all been a charade to keep the witches off Ellie's back. Admittedly it did seem to have caused some awkward moments between the two of them and a good deal of embarrassment, but that seemed a small price to pay.

  To add to Zack's problem's, as much as he might like to pretend otherwise, he was developing strong feelings for Leonie. He acknowledged that it was stupid and irrational, but he just couldn't help himself. He was drawn to her. Zack supposed he was the moth to her lethal flame, but try as he might he could not resist. Every time he caught her eye, they both swiftly averted their gaze, but he knew that she knew. And what was more, he was convinced that she felt something too.

  Of course he was also aware of the laws of Witch Town. Only one Husband and Leonie's was now dead. He wondered if she had known herself what Robert had been involved in and also if she had knowledge of what had caused his death.

  Could he ask her? Would she allow him to speak to her about such personal things?

  Zack decided there was only one way to find out.

  Extracts from the journal of Rebecca Marsh

  July 27th 1612

  I am ensconced in my new residence. As the only heir to my family's assets I now find myself to be a extremely wealthy young woman. The great stone has been transported, not without some difficulty, to the basement of this house. My newfound ability charges me with great excitement and ambition. I will use my fortune to discover why I have been blessed with this gift. But I must be very wary. The woman in Pendle accused of witchcraft was taken to trial today and I must not allow anyone to know what I am capable of. At least not yet.

  October 2nd 1612

  My agents have located both a metalsmith and a stone mason and I am paying them a very generous fee to study my father's blueprint and remove suitable fragments from the Central American stone. Of course I never let either leave my sight. I remain while they work, content that should they attempt any deceit a simple Word would be enough to deal with either or indeed, both of them.

  December 11th 1612 />
  Success! My employees have in tandem, been able to reproduce a duplicate of my SpiritHeart. Now I am determined to test its effectiveness. But I need a suitable subject to conduct my experiment on. A maid perhaps. I must be vigilant. Despite my position of social affluence, the atmosphere of religious zeal against the outbreak of witchcraft across our lands continues.

  December 26th 1612

  I do not record this with any sense of satisfaction. Quite the contrary. I have been compelled to take an action I did not solicit. The foolish metalsmith (I will not name him) attempted a most heinous crime against my person. Namely extortion. I refused to pay him of course, but I could not allow him to jeopardise my work. The Word I uttered was instinctive and without thought. It was not a calculated deed. But I put an end to his life nonetheless.

  December 29th 1612

  I do not know what I expected. But in truth I did believe something would transpire. I offered the new SpiritHeart to the serving girl and waited in expectation. But nothing came to pass. The stupid girl tried to put it on, but the chain lacerated her neck and she cast it aside. I knew immediately she was not as I am. Is this because only my own original pendant possesses this power? I do not believe so. It is my conviction that the power comes from within and the necklace is only a conduit. I must redouble my efforts. I will use every resource at my disposal.

  January 28th 1613

  I have come to hold the firm belief that there are others who possess my gift. And the SpiritHeart can be employed to channel the energy from within to give power to the Word. Furthermore, I now wonder if perhaps these witches who are so often spoken of, are indeed kindred to me. Not all are vagrants and hags. Some must come from more respectable, educated families. I will send my agents to seek these out and make every effort to obtain their co-operation in my endeavours. If my hopes prove to be correct, I will be their benefactor and their protector.

  March 5th 1613

  Allison is an unruly girl. She is a year older than myself, but seems so much younger in worldly ways. I believe that I removed her from her home barely in time to save her from the hunters who were scouring that vicinity. The same rumours that led me to her would surely have brought them calling before too long.

  March 11th 1613

  This is a momentous day. Allison and I have become Sisters. She and I share the gift. Admittedly she appears not to grasp the Words as easily as I have been able to. But nonetheless she is able to use the pendant as I do. I am no longer alone. And this means there will be others who can join with us. I will continue to seek them