-Anonymous
Dear Anonymous:
He’s your husband! Why don’t you tell him yourself? Anyway, I kept in the personal comments because they were funny, but I’ll take them out next time.
-Ed
Dear Editor:
In yesterday’s article, “Barrington’s Harvest Festival – A Smashing Success” O’Callaghan claims that the vandalism in the town was minor, but the families who ended up with blood splattered runes painted on their homes think otherwise. I know who did it. I know who viciously attacked these God fearing people. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and we have the direct descendant of the town’s famous, murdering witch living here. She should be watched with suspicion. She should be run out of this town, or she should be burned.
-Anonymous
Thursday, August 24
The Barrington Bugle Newspaper Office
When Issac Heimler, editor of The Barrington Bugle, picked up the newssheet Thursday morning and saw the second letter, the one he hadn’t approved, he read it with shaking hands.
“Who put this in?” he roared at his copy boy.
The boy looked confused. “I have no idea,” he said.
“Ha!” Issac said with a laugh, “I love it! A witch hunt in Barrington…now THAT will sell papers!”
Hannah just smiled as she tidied her desk for the day. A witch hunt was a very good idea.
The Kellar Residence
Sadie was horrified when her aunt came home with the paper.
“Folks were eyeing me funny today. Some were plain rude and others were sympathetic, asking how I was. Those hypocrites…now I know why!” Liora said, tossing the two-page paper on the table.
Sadie was shaking with fury as she read the short but vicious letter.
“I don’t understand,” she said in a strained voice. “How can the paper just print that letter? Don’t they edit hate mail? Don’t they need proof to print claims like that?” Did they have proof she didn’t know about? Sadie bit her lip. “The writer is suggesting the town burn me like they did during the witch trials! This is ludicrous.”
Liora huffed. “Letters are people’s opinions, girl. Nobody named names, but the point is clear. They think they have the right to say whatever they want. Freedom of the press and all that. Bah! I’ve a mind to sue that old German coot for slander and threats against my family,” she muttered under her breath.
Sadie eyed her aunt. Hopefully, that’s all she would do. Now that she had witnessed her aunt’s power and her temper, she paid more attention to her outbursts. For herself, and her own power, she was careful never to use it. Not that using it was a problem. After that first incident when her power had manifested for the first time, Sadie had not been able to produce a repeat performance. She had no idea how to call it.
Liora snorted. “Bet your young lad’s mother won’t be too pleased at the scandal of you being tied to the vandalism,” she said, pleased.
“But as you said, aunt Liora,” Sadie replied coolly, “the anonymous writer never mentions names.”
Liora just grunted.
Boris, who was sitting at the table having tea, looked at Sadie seriously. “You need to figure out who wrote that, Sadie girl,” her uncle said after reading the offending paragraph. “You have an enemy, and this town has never been particularly friendly to Kellars in the past.”
“They don’t burn people anymore because of one person’s silly, and completely outlandish, declaration,” she whispered.
Boris frowned. “No, not if they’re in their right mind,” he said ominously.
And many people didn’t appear to be in their right mind, Sadie thought, and her hand rattled on her teacup. The more she read it, the angrier she got. What would Claire Barrington think when she read this? Luke was going to lose it if he thought someone was threatening her. The audacity of this person! She could feel power gather and crackle along her arms as fury filled her. She was losing control of her emotions, and her power was coming. Her teacup exploded and shock replaced anger as she stared at her hand uncomprehendingly. Her aunt and uncle shouted in surprise as the shards sprayed them. Her power started to fade. She needed some solitude to calm down. She needed to speak to Luke.
Sadie stood up and swayed.
“You okay girl?” her aunt asked in a peculiarly deep voice, as if from far away. Sadie felt odd. She turned and the most beautiful girl Sadie had ever seen was standing beside her. Her black dress looked strangely like hers, but it was longer and had more material flowing around the legs. Sadie was confused. Who was this beautiful girl? How did she appear so quickly? She was feeling woozy.
“I need to sit down,” Sadie said, but her voice sounded far away.
“Yes, why don’t you rest, my sweet. Liora, I need to borrow my granddaughter for a few hours.” The girl smiled as she looked at Sadie, but it wasn’t a nice smile, and Sadie could only gasp in horror when the woman’s violet eyes turned white and she walked right into her. Sadie stopped moving abruptly. There was a brief struggle as Sadie’s face changed expressions before she groaned and bent her head, rubbing it. When she looked up, her expression was calculating and cold.
“Hello, Willow,” Liora said fawningly.
“Liora,” she said shortly. “We have no time to waste. Sadie has grown much stronger. She should not have been this difficult to subdue,” she said with irritation.
“She released her power…”
“Yes, I can feel it. It is not yet at full strength, but it will be in time for the ritual,” Willow said, extending her arms and flexing her fingers. She drew power easily. Purple electricity rolled over her arms and fingers in waves.
“I’ve never seen power like hers—” Liora said with awe and a bit of fear.
“Yes, an inheritance building for centuries, and I will use all of it. It must be mastered if I am to transform and live in this body permanently when the time comes. Get my spell book, Liora. I need to start preparing immediately.”
“Yes, Willow,” Liora said as she ran to the basement.
Willow looked at Boris and inclined her head. He did the same.
When Sadie woke up she knew right away it was much later. She was aching and sweaty. She groaned as she sat up. She remembered everything and she stumbled to the mirror in her room and ripped off her dress to check her stomach. The faint markings of the pentacle enclosed in a circle that Willow had drawn on her belly had faded to thin white lines. Willow had tapped into her power and used it easily to burn the sigil onto her body.
Willow, Willow, Willow…I’m being possessed by my ancestor…Willow, Willow, Willow…confirmation…no denial possible…Willow Willow Willow…crazy terrifying evil murderous witch… she chanted mindlessly as she grabbed her cell phone and checked the time…she has a ritual she has to do soon…Sadie searched her memory…come on, come on, she thought to herself…a ritual on…arrrgh…she couldn’t remember…she growled in frustration…it was a date she should know…it’ll come to her.
It was three in the morning. She had missed over fifty calls, all from the same number, but because nothing good ever happens at this time of the morning, she didn’t call Luke back.
Friday, August 30
The Barrington Estate
The four friends met at Barrington Manor an hour before midnight. The hoots and sounds of music and wild partying could be heard faintly from Town Circle. Nathalie and Dean had stayed on the lighted streets and pedaled their bikes furiously through town. It was Friday night, the second to last day of August.
After Sadie’s last “missing time” incident a week ago, which they believe was triggered by the nasty letter published in the newspaper, they had decided to hold a séance. Now that Sadie had confirmed, without a doubt, that the evil spirit they were dealing with was, in fact, Willow Kellar, they planned to summon her, bind her, and destroy her. Sadie found the spells they needed in Elanah’s spell book and had spent the last week studying the rituals and getting the items they would need to cas
t the spells. Some of the items were very difficult to acquire, so they gathered the moment they had everything they needed.
There was definitely something wrong with their town, and it was somewhat of a relief to realize that they weren’t the only ones going through something strange. They believed Beth was involved, and that is was her publishing the hate mail about Sadie.
When Luke and his mother confronted Heimler about the letter, he claimed he never saw it before it was printed. It just appeared in the daily. They didn’t believe him, of course. Heimler had no scruples about slander or invading people’s privacy when it came to his publication. But, they had no proof, and as Heimler pointed out with a smile, no names were ever printed.
So, the fact that Beth was a witch and a stranger made her the prime suspect in Luke’s eyes. Barrington County was fun-loving chaos, and this craziness had started shortly after she had arrived. She was bad news.
Not only that, Beth and her posse had set up two new drink booths; both in Town Circle to “meet demand” (she claimed), but these drinks had alcohol in them making them even more popular. Luke was surprised it was allowed, but Nathalie wasn’t. Nothing surprised her anymore.
What Nathalie still couldn’t fathom was why Beth put so much effort into these drink booths for nothing. The drinks were free. The candy factory certainly wasn’t paying her for all her hours. With the factory shut down, no one was getting paid anymore. So what was she getting out of it?
Both Nathalie and Dean had stopped working the previous week. The business was at a halt with O’Malley missing, and people stopped coming to work. Nathalie had locked the doors and left a note for Shaemus, should he return. He hadn’t yet. Dean had called all their clients to let them know that the factory was undergoing “renovations” to improve their assembly lines, and that as soon as they started production again their sales rep would be in touch. Any leftover stock had been hauled out and sold to Ye Ole Sweete Shoppe because Eric Sweet had demanded it.
“Drunken sot,” Eric had muttered about Shaemus as he moved the inventory into his storeroom.
At the manor they crept into Luke’s room. The furniture in his sitting area had been pushed aside to make a space for them to sit in a circle. Four fluffy pillows dotted the floor. Each one of them had brought a white pillar candle. Nathalie had gotten the herbs they needed from Taline, and Luke had procured a large, pewter brazier from his attic.
“Wow, what a beautiful antique,” Nathalie whispered, putting her candle down beside her and sitting on one of the pillows.”
“Believe it or not, it belonged to Jacob Barrington, the very man who condemned Willow to die.”
“Because things can retain echoes of previous owners, we’re hoping she’ll sense her arch enemy and it will draw her to us more easily,” Sadie said.
“Don’t you need a pentacle for this?” Dean asked curiously. He had taken the suspension of disbelief very seriously. He had read up on séance rituals. He started with Ethan Graver’s book, Contacting the Dead, but he quickly realized it was garbage, and the guy was “full of shit and had no idea what he was talking about.”
Sadie had searched her aunt’s library for Willow’s grimoire without success. Elanah’s book didn’t have any information on séances. She found a secret stash of books in a huge locked wooden chest. Sadie found the key in her aunt’s room, but it wouldn’t open even after she unlocked it.
“It was magically sealed,” she explained. Frustration and desperation had brought forth Sadie’s power, destroying the magical seal instantly, and she was able to access the trunk’s contents. Willow’s grimoire was still missing, but one of the books in there was exactly what they were looking for. It was called, “Séances: The Art of Calling The Dead.” It was handwritten, and the author was a witch named Hester.
“We’re lucky it was preserved considering the witch hunters destroyed all books they considered ‘of evil taint,’” Dean said as he read the book.
“It looks as if the Kellars hid books for witches,” Sadie said.
“Or collected them,” Luke added.
“Well, these women would have been executed if they had been found with them,” Nathalie said, waiting for her turn to look at the section on séances, which was complete with instructions.
“So, is Elanah Von Vixen reliable?” Dean asked worriedly. “We haven’t been able to compare her spells to any other witches. Suppose something goes horribly wrong?”
“From what I understand, she was almost as powerful as Willow, but not evil. She didn’t consort with demons.”
“Are you sure? Her book has some pretty awful spells,” Nathalie said quietly.
“Well, it’s the family’s book, not just hers. I don’t know much about her except that she worked with the witch hunters and was the one who went back to retrieve Willow’s grimoire and her diary before the witch hunters could destroy them. She returned them to the Kellars.”
In the end Hester’s séance ritual looked viable, but two of the key “call” ingredients needed were fresh blood and earth from a graveyard.
“Do you think the blood needs to be hot and fresh?” Luke had asked, a bit sickened as he read through the ritual’s ingredients.
“It doesn’t say so,” Sadie said calmly, “so we don’t have to kill anything.” In the end Sadie had gone to Bill Farmer and asked him for some blood so her aunt could make blood pudding. He had grimaced. Gross, he thought to himself. To him, the Kellars were strange folk, but so as not to show prejudice, he ordered blood for her from a butcher in Limerick. It had arrived this morning and they knew the ritual had to be tonight.
Luke had gotten the graveyard earth from Barrington’s graveyard in Limerick. He convinced one of his older brothers to take him, but he didn’t stay long. “Graveyards give me the creeps,” he admitted to Sadie.
“The pentacle is under the carpet. I had to hide my artwork from my mother. For some reason I think she would object to me drawing, in chalk, on her wood floors, and the design leaves something to be desired,” Luke said nervously.
“He did a perfect job,” Sadie said quietly, taking her pillow. “Even though we can’t see it, it’s there, and it should protect us. The brazier is the vehicle of communication.” There was a white circle of salt around it. “As long as the salt circle isn’t broken, we’ll be just fine. Does everyone have their supplies?”
Dean had gotten the vials of holy water from Father MacGunne and everyone had brought their own candle. “Remember, if things get dangerous, throw the holy water at her, or at yourself, but don’t forget to use it if something goes wrong.”
“It never works against vampires in movies,” Dean said nervously, but Nathalie shushed him gently.
They lit their candles and Luke turned out the lights in the room. The room was dark and cool, protected from the August heat outside. The moon was out but not shining into the room, and the trees were black smudges through the windows. The four youngsters took deep, calming breaths, trying to quell their nerves and get to a meditative state.
Sadie’s melodious voice was soft as she started to chant in Latin. The words were repetitive and after a few minutes began to blur together.
Nathalie was aware of Dean’s deep breathing beside her. She felt as if she could hear his heart beat in time with hers. She opened her eyes and Sadie had lit the brazier. It burned steadily, giving off a pungent incense-like smell. The sweet smoke twisted its way around her, numbing her mind and making her sleepy. She felt herself fall asleep but was still awake. It was a weird sensation. Sadie was casting the summoning spell, and in her relaxed state her power came easily to her. It flowed through all of them, creating a circle. Nathalie could see the violet link and feel the warmth its presence generated.
“It’s time,” she called to them softly. She wasn’t speaking in English or Latin, but another language, an old one, Nathalie realized, one they all understood.
Nathalie registered that Dean and Luke now had their eyes open. Our conscious selv
es are asleep, Nathalie thought fleetingly, it’s our unconscious selves that are participating in this ritual. Hester and Elanah didn’t mention that in their books. I wonder what else they missed.
Sadie called Willow. She cut her finger and put three drops of her blood onto the burning brazier. The pig blood had soaked the herbs and provided the initial call. Now Sadie used Kellar blood to draw her ancestor.
It worked, but it didn’t.
It wasn’t Willow who came.
A wild wind ripped through the room. A presence was manifesting itself over the brazier, a presence Nathalie had felt before. The flames in the brazier shot up. Nathalie was sure everyone would be burned in the inferno, but the heat didn’t reach beyond the salt line.
Sadie frowned as the demon turned towards the source of power, and made a mocking inclination of his head. “Greetings to the Kellar heir,” he hissed. “How may I be of assistance now that you have rudely pulled me from my resting place?”
“I did not summon thee,” Sadie replied neutrally.
“Thee did. You called using blood, and I was the first to respond.”
“I called one of my ancestors.”
“Oooh, well, pardon me for crashing your family party, but here’s a magic tip for you. Next time, only use your own blood, silly witch.”
That wasn’t in the books, either, Nathalie thought dimly.
“Why are you here? What is your connection to Willow Kellar?” Nathalie asked curiously. They had called Willow and he had appeared. She knew it was Danner even though he hadn’t introduced himself.
“Why hello, puny human. I see that you remember me. Interesting! Is your gift getting stronger or has some one diddled with you magically?” The demon sighed. “I did tell you not to interfere, insignificant one. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He adopted a thinking pose. “So, participating in this sham…and exposing our secret relationship…well that does constitute interfering,” he said, and as fast as lightening, tried to grab Nathalie but his arm hit an invisible wall. He looked down and around. “Damn salt. I hate that stuff,” he muttered irritably. “Most witches forget to put it down. Oh well…” He smiled a terrible smile at Nathalie. “I guess you’re safe, for now,” he said ominously.
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