Fortunately, Miss Cassie was introduced as the next speaker. I watched in amazement as she stepped onto the platform, stood before the podium, calmly readjusted the microphone and introduced herself. As she spoke about her background working with the bereaved, I barely recognized the elderly woman I had spent time with. When I visited with her she reminded me of a kindly old grandmother serving tea and cookies. In this setting, speaking to a large crowd, Miss Cassie was more like a dignitary, or a learned professor, sharing her expertise. I noticed that some of the people in the audience who had been crying earlier had stopped because they were so focused on what she was saying.
Something rather odd happened that caught my immediate attention. Miss Cassie abruptly stopped speaking and stared directly into the crowd on my left side. People started looking all around, wondering what or who she was staring at. There it was again, that odd laughter I heard when I was half asleep. It wasn’t very loud but it had an intrusive, disturbing edge to it. For this to happen at such a time reflected very poor judgment. Who would do such a thing? Miss Cassie continued to stare until the laughter stopped. At that point she paused for a few seconds, nodded, and carried on with her discourse.
About five minutes later, as Miss Cassie was winding things down, it happened again. She was referring to her notes when she stopped talking and her eyes snapped up. She lifted her glasses and stared into the crowd, as before. It was the same person, the same voice, a female, tittering at some joke, as if this were a comedy club. Everyone was craning their necks, trying to see who was causing the disturbance.
A woman suddenly yelled from the back, “There’s someone here having trouble breathing!”
“I think she’s choking!” another woman shouted.
A man yelled, “Someone call an ambulance. Please move back. She needs some air.”
People started moving toward the disturbance, trying to see. A few cops appeared from the outskirts, motioning people to move back from the aisle. I heard a distant siren.
Miss Cassie spoke into the microphone, “Everyone, it’s best to stay out of the way. Move out of the aisle and go back to your seats. We’ll need some room for the ambulance.”
A large man appeared from the back, coming down the aisle with someone in his arms. She was obviously in distress, shaking violently, and holding her hands up to her throat, her pale face tinged with blue. She was wheezing loudly, as if trying to suck air through a tiny hole. As they passed, I managed to get a good look, and my heart skipped a beat. I was quite sure it was that cheerleader friend of Tonya’s, Stacy. I’ve never actually seen her without a sneer plastered across her lips. I managed to recognize her because of the shock of purple hair that was stuck out from her forehead. I caught a glimpse of her wide open eyes. Pink flip flops hung forlornly from her painted toes.
It’s strange that she came from the vicinity of the laughing girl. But then, maybe it wasn’t so odd, after all. Stacy must’ve been the one laughing with such disregard. After all, she was likely involved with Tonya in the destruction at the fair because Tonya couldn’t have done it all herself. Stacy would’ve enjoyed adding to people’s suffering.
The man laid Stacy on the edge of the platform in front. An EMT worked on her, trying to open her airways so she could breathe, and laugh again. I felt something on my arm and glanced at the sky. The sudden raindrops were the result of a massive dark cloud looming over us. I turned my attention to Miss Cassie who was gazing at Stacy with an odd expression. What was she thinking?
Stacy’s coloring seemed to have improved; there was a slight flush to her cheeks. When the EMT bent over to pick his bag up I was able to get a better look. Her eyes were open but they appeared glazed over, as if she was shock. And what was stuck in her throat? When I realized what it was I felt a sudden wave of nausea. It was a tube! They had to perform a tracheotomy on her! I sat back and took a few deep breaths trying to calm myself. I wonder how she felt. One minute she’s high on the sorrow of others, looking down at the world. The next minute she’s low, barely breathing, almost gone.
Too Much Information
Miss Cassie came over to greet us as we waited for the commotion to pass. “Hello, Tess and Mercy, I wanted to come over and see you.”
I jumped. I was so freaked about that Stacy girl that I hadn’t noticed her. “Oh, hello, Miss Cassie.” I quickly gestured toward my family. “This is my grandmother, my aunt and my two cousins, Annie and Eve.”
Mercy jumped in, “And Miss Cassie, this is my mom.”
Miss Cassie smiled. “It’s so nice to meet you all. I’m sorry it has to be on such a sad occasion.”
“Miss Cassie, I listened to your speech. I thought it was amazing,” proclaimed Mercy.
“Well, thank you, dear. I appreciate your words. I came over here for a reason.” Miss Cassie said pointedly.
I frowned, “Do you need help with something, Miss Cassie?”
“I was wondering, do you suppose that the two of you could join me for a cup of tea at Cozy’s Restaurant? It’s right by the green.”
“Sure, I think so. Is it OK, Aunt Amy?” I asked, turning to her.
Grandma and Aunt Amy stared at us looking puzzled. “Yes, I guess it is,” Aunt Amy finally answered.
Belinda, Mercy’s mom, nodded. “It’s fine with me.”
“You see,” Miss Cassie said with a fond smile, “Mercy and Tess have been very kind to a lonely, old lady. When they come by the house they always stop by to say hello. It’s very refreshing to have youngsters so interested in historic homes like mine.”
“Really,” Aunt Amy remarked, looking at me suspiciously.
“Yes, old homes fascinate me,” I asserted, glaring at Aunt Amy.
Miss Cassie looked amused. “Anyway, I will meet you girls at Cozy’s when this is over. I’ll be happy to drive you home.”
Within the hour Mercy and I were sitting in a back booth at Cozy’s Restaurant, when Miss Cassie came in and joined us.
“Girls, thank you for coming,” she said while taking off her white gloves.
“Sure, no problem. What did you want to see us about?” Mercy asked.
“Oh, before we go any further, I wanted to ask you something,” I said, looking between Mercy and Miss Cassie.”
“What would you like to know, Tess?” Miss Cassie asked, tipping her head to the side.
“Do you have any idea what happened to Stacy back there?”
Miss Cassie replied, “Stacy, so that’s her name. How do you know her?”
Mercy smirked, “She’s one of THEM, a pal of Tonya’s”
Miss Cassie answered in a casual tone, “I spoke to the EMT. It appears she was stung by a bee.”
Mercy frowned. “She has a bee allergy? I didn’t know that. She used to be in my gym class and it was never brought up. We always know when someone has a bee allergy in class. That’s odd.”
Miss Cassie shook her head. “Why, that’s not odd at all. You know, an allergy can crop at any time in your life. Any time at all.”
“Wow….I had no idea,” I responded.
Miss Cassie sighed, looking down at her hands.
Mercy frowned. “Are you OK, Miss Cassie?”
Miss Cassie looked up and slightly shook her head. “I’m not looking forward to telling you what you need to know. I’m afraid it will frighten you. However, you can’t afford to remain ignorant because at minimum it would cost you your life.
I swallowed. At minimum! What’s worse than losing your life?
Mercy is much braver than I am. She asked, “What do you have to tell us, Miss Cassie?”
She sat back, taking a deep breath. “Let’s see, where do I start? It’s related to what happened at the Tri-town fair. I have to say, it took me by surprise. I knew trouble would be forthcoming, but I just didn’t expect it would happen so quickly, or that it would be so terrible.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid we may be leading up to some very bad times around here. This deliberate act of terrifying and hurting innocent people
at the fair was a warning to all the good ones, the luminars. Stay away or there will be more death and destruction,” she added grimly.
I asked, “What do you mean by all witches? Are there other witches around here that we don’t know about?”
“Oh yes, there certainly are,” she responded.
Mercy asked, “Why would someone from the outside get involved here?”
Miss Cassie sighed, “My dear, I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation. Witches, all over the world, are very sensitive to certain events. Think about how different a witch’s background is compared to a regular human being. Remember that witches have lived all of their past lives as some form of a witch, whether as a healer, a conjurer, or a sorcerer. Since the luminars and the diaboles have been fighting over the centuries, their enemies aren’t created over a single lifetime. They’re built up over many lifetimes. After a while, a sense of karma, or payback, builds up into a frenzy of feuding and hatred that can only be dispelled in one way.”
“I still don’t understand why they would come here. What would they DO here?” Mercy asked, biting her lip.
“Witches are a crazy lot. When they have been seriously wronged as in your case, Tessie, or if they just believe they have been slighted in some way, THEY NEVER, EVER FORGET, particularly the diaboles. They keep their feelings of persecution and resentment under wraps for many lifetimes. They patiently wait until a time comes when they can seek their revenge. This may be one of those times. When witches sense a battle brewing they are like sharks smelling fresh blood.”
“You mean that witches may be drawn here from all over the place in order to get revenge?” Mercy asked, eyes wide.
“Yes, and this could be the grandest of all battles. There have been a few minor witch skirmishes in New England over the past couple of centuries, after all, New England is known as a witch hot spot. Have you ever heard of the Hartford Circus Fire in the 1940s or the Boston Molasses Explosion in the early 1900s? When witches battle, humans pay a big price. Fortunately, that collateral damage was minimized. It could have been so much worse,” Miss Cassie said while shaking her head.
“It could have been WORSE?” I shrieked.
Miss Cassie looked at me with dismay. “Tess, I’m being honest with you because it’s important that you know everything in order to protect yourself. I do understand your fear. I want you to know that I am getting a bad sense of what will be coming. One indication was the train accident you encountered on your way here. I’m afraid that was no accident. Diaboles did it to be rid of you. That kind of foresight and planning does not indicate to me that one quick tragedy will satisfy the witches looking for revenge. No, no…,” her voice trailed off while shaking her head.
“Oh, my, God! That train accident happened because of ME? So they were after me before I even got here? They almost killed my cousins and my aunt!” That was too much for me to bear.
Mercy quickly jumped in, “Why else do you think there will be witch trouble here?”
“There are a few reasons. We are seeing a close planetary and lunar alignment with Jupiter, Saturn and Venus. The cosmic forces from such alignments can magnify the powers of witches. The last time that happened was in 1345. And, we’re also hearing of unusual witch activity happening around the globe.”
“We also get information about situations on earth when witches are in their soul states during the time of The Between. They have warned us that hostility has been building between the luminars and the diaboles for centuries. We believe events may be coming to a head.”
“It has been building for centuries?” I inquired, feeling my heart pound.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. In retrospect, there were similar ominous signs in the early 1300s that something big would transpire at that time. As it turned out, an event of great magnitude took place in exactly 1345. That event of witch retribution occurred over 600 years ago.” Miss Cassie watched us, waiting for the information to sink in.
“What big event are you talking about?” I asked even though I felt like bolting out the door.
“That was the time of the Karmic Apocalypse of the Wiccans,” Miss Cassie said softly, her troubled eyes staring at me. “Does the date 1345 mean anything to you in regards to events of human history?”
I tried to think. I’ve read about medieval times but I’m not sure what that date would mean. “Does it have anything to do with witch persecution?” I ventured.
Mercy shouted, “I know! It has something to do with the Black Death and the bubonic plague. I’m always reading about medieval times and they’re always talking about the plague.”
“Yes, you are correct Mercy. The dates for the Black Death were 1345 to 1353. You are also correct, Tess. It was an important time for witch persecution,” Miss Cassie affirmed.
I wanted to know about that karma or karmic apocalypse she was talking about. That sounded awful. “What about that karma witch thing?” I asked.
Miss Cassie sighed and then continued, “Let me explain what happened in the early 1300’s. There had been extreme witch prosecution in the 13th and 14th centuries. The general population was led to believe that all suffering was caused by witches who were in league with the devil. This sentiment was usually initiated and promoted by bad witches, the diaboles, who played on the fears of the humans. They did it because they were constantly afraid of losing their riches and power. Thousands of good witches were hunted down and murdered in horrific ways.
“There was another creature that was hunted down with witches at that time as well. It was the population of domestic and feral cats. They were thought to be ‘familiars’ with the witches. It was believed that witches could not carry out their spell work without the cats. We know that for most witches, this was simply not true.”
Mercy piped in, “What happened to the poor cats?”
“In parts of Europe, they were almost completely exterminated. Hundreds of thousands of cats were tortured, burned, hung, or drowned,” Miss Cassie answered and then she turned back to me. “Anyway, to answer your question, the good witches, the luminars, who had remained hidden out of fear decided they had to do something because so many of their kin were being murdered. They secretly met and decided on a plan of attack. We don’t know all of the details, but we do know that they fought fire with fire. They turned the tables on the bad ones, accusing THEM of consorting with the devil. The good ones used their power to create huge tempests against the estates of some of the most powerful. They caused great torment and affliction to their family members and their animals.
“Of course, the bad ones retaliated and it became a never ending spiral of vengeance. THAT is what we call, The Karmic Apocalypse of the Wiccans. It was such a costly war between the early wiccans. There hasn’t been such a violent confrontation since then. It finally ended, but there was a horrible price to pay. Humans ALWAYS pay the highest price.” Miss Cassie stopped talking, a frown creasing her forehead.
“How did it end?” I asked impatiently.
Miss Cassis was still for a minute before answering, “There is one last piece of magic that witches can perform for good or for evil. Good witches will work to rid the world of pestilence. Bad witches may promote pestilence. During The Karmic Apocalypse, a bad witch used magic to endow some fleas with the Yersinia Pestis bacterium as a way to escalate the war. The Yersinia Pestis is otherwise known as the bubonic plague. Of course, fleas spread quickly and they live on rats. The rats carried this plague pest everywhere they went. Very little could stop them. After all, the natural enemy of the rats, the cat, had been almost completely exterminated during the witch hunts. The rats would be roaming free, carrying the pestilence everywhere with no natural enemy. As we now know, the results were devastating for humankind.”
“Are you saying that bad witches were responsible for the Black Death plague?” asked Mercy in astonishment.
“I’m afraid that’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m sure it was initially performed for revenge in a fit of
temper and it quickly got out of control. The witch or witches who had performed the deed probably had no idea how badly it would turn out. The Black Death caused the demise of 25 million people in Europe. Millions also died in North Africa, China and India. Included in those deaths were many witches. In those days the plague was almost impossible to cure, even for witches. The aftermath was horrific for the humans. Anyone who was viewed as being different was blamed for the plague. The persecution of good witches along with countless other innocents continued for many years.”
“So you’re saying something like that could happen today and it might happen here?” Mercy asked in a panicky voice.
“It is highly possible. We’re seeing all of the signs,” replied Miss Cassie.
“What I want to know is why are they bothering with me? I don’t want anything to do with it!” I cried.
“I am so sorry, Tessie, dear. You are viewed as a threat.” Miss Cassie looked sadly at me with her luminous golden haze. “There is nothing you can do at this time except prepare yourself. Many good witches love you. You have suffered greatly with them. The others are afraid of you, Tess. They are afraid of your influence and your power.”
“WHAT influence and WHAT power?” I cried.
“The power and influence that you demonstrated during the time of Karmic Apocalypse of the Wiccans.”
34. Bad Day Back
I opened my eyes. Sweat was pouring off me and my heartbeat was a loud echo in my ears. What day is it? I took a deep breath to calm myself. Have to think for a minute. It’s Wednesday, two days after the memorial for the Tri Town Fair victims and one day after ‘the dunking vision’ as I call it. Do I hear MORE wind and rain and thunder and lightning? It’s just not normal so early in the day.
I swallowed. My throat was still sore, but I felt better than I did yesterday. I didn’t want to dwell on ‘the dunking vision’ I had two nights ago, so I spent all day yesterday finishing up a paper that wasn’t due until next week. I discovered that the minute my mind drifted back to ‘the dunking vision’ I’d start getting that panicky choking feeling in my throat. Because the whole episode felt so real, I’ve come to the conclusion that it was more like a regression than a dream. After all, dreams are vague and they don’t cause physical symptoms like sore throats. ‘The dunking vision’ was in no way vague. I felt the water in my eyes and my throat. I heard the crowd shouting at me. I saw that finger accusing me.
A Girl Beyond (War of the Witches Book 2) Page 17
