by Mark Hockley
out. There will be a new family. One who command Words of power. And I will be their Mother.
20
So far so good. Margaret hasn't stormed into my house and demanded to get her book back. Not yet at least. But what I'm finding out is only making everything more confusing. I can't help it but I have to admit I'm hooked. I really do want to know more about the history of this place. My history. Because however much I might not like to face it, this must all be connected to me somehow. Rebecca may have started it all, but now I'm part of it too and it's anyone's guess how things are going to end up. Where does it all leave me? In over my head is the phrase that comes to mind.
"I have arranged a meeting." Jeremiah keep his voice neutral and didn't even glance in Zack's direction.
The boy followed suit and carried on picking up potatoes. Another day, another vegetable. "So who am I meeting exactly?"
"That is not important," the man told him firmly, "but you will understand that any misjudgements could prove to be very costly."
Zack didn't need reminding. "I know how it works around here."
"Best that you do," observed Jeremiah.
Zack continued wrestling with potatoes. Before this he had only ever seen them on his plate. Now his fingernails were caked with mud and all he really wanted to do was get washed and have a long, cool drink of water. But it was only mid-morning and they would be expected to work several more hours before any kind of break.
"When?" he asked simply, setting his thirst aside for the moment.
The man looked at him at last and there was something intense and determined in his gaze. "Tonight," he said softly. "We will come for you."
Ellie had paused in her reading to try to put the things she now knew in some kind of order. Her mind whirled.
So Rebecca had indeed been the first, or at least the first as far as the witches were concerned. But even calling them witches seemed inaccurate, as Rebecca herself had taken those involved at the time and transformed them into something entirely different. Whatever consensus there was among the community to rid the English countryside of witchcraft, it had not been focused on Rebecca and her acolytes, at least not at first. Maybe that came later. Ellie would have to read on and find out.
But what troubled Ellie most of all was the nature of the SpiritHeart. She absently fingered her own pendant, aware of its power and sensitive to its intrinsic connection with her body through the flesh at the back of her neck.
But all of this would need to wait. For now she was about to have another lesson with Helen in the use of Words of Power. As much as she disliked the austere schooling of the Black witch, she still valued it. Knowledge is power she had heard somewhere and never more so than in this place.
She arrived in the hall to find Helen accompanied by another of their Coven, a younger woman in her mid thirties. She also wore the black sash of a level four.
"This is Grace," introduced Helen curtly. "She will assist me." Ellie waited. Grace said nothing, only eyeing her with indifference. "What do you think would happen," the older woman continued, "If both Grace and I attacked you at the same time?"
This caught the girl by surprise. She considered the question for a moment before replying. "Aren't there rules In Witch Town that forbid combat?"
"Don't be foolish, girl," rebuked Helen, "do you truly think that edict has never been broken? What will you say if you should be so unfortunate to face another Mother in battle? Will you quote laws at them while they defeat you?"
"I don't understand," Ellie said, trying to avoid the mocking stare of Grace. "I thought..."
"You thought!?" Helen interrupted, "You thought wrong. Combat between witches goes back to the very earliest days. Even to the time of Rebecca."
"So is that why she was killed then?" Ellie couldn't help but ask the question.
Both witches facing her scowled in unison.
"Do not speak of things you know nothing about. Just know that rivalry between individuals as well as Covens has always been present. So what would you do?"
"Do?" queried Ellie, a little distracted by what had been said to her.
Helen rolled her eyes with condescension. "Yes. If both of us spoke a Word of Power?" Her small eyes gleamed darkly.
"I...I'm not sure."
"It hadn't even occurred to you had it?" The woman was enjoying the girl's unease immensely.
"Well, no," admitted Ellie. "So what should I do?"
"Watch...and learn." With barely a pause Helen then added, "Weaken." Immediately her amulet began to fill with a nebulous fluid.
Ellie felt light headed, her body becoming far too heavy, her limbs weighted down as if they were fashioned from stone.
Now Grace finally spoke. "Dismember," she said with a casual air.
Ellie's eyes bulged with the shock of hearing the word. She almost stuttered in panic, trying to think how to protect herself.
