“Sorry, mom. Got a project to do. I need to get cracking.”
John Barrington looked interested. “A project, already? On what?”
“Er, electricity,” Luke lied.
Luke’s mother snorted. “You could teach a class on what you know about electricity.”
“I’m working with Dean,” he said lamely.
“Oh, well that explains it,” Claire said, as his father nodded, and they continued to eat. “But that doesn’t excuse poor table manners, Luke.”
“Sorry mom.” Poor Dean, they think he’s an idiot. “May I be excused?” Luke had cleaned his plate in five minutes flat.
She looked disapproving. “For homework, yes.”
“Great, gotta go,” Luke said, leaping out of his chair and grabbing his schoolbag.
“Be home by eleven o’clock or you’re grounded,” his father warned.
“Will do,” he called as he sped out the front door…and snuck back in the house through one of the main salon windows, which he had left open for that purpose. He closed it quietly and could hear his family chatting in the dining room. Thank God the house was so big. Luke headed for the small broom closet at the back of the room. When the house had servants, this small space had been used for brooms and buckets to clean the main floor. Empty, there was enough space for a teenager to sit with a laptop and stretch out his legs and elbows. Luke had tossed a seat cushion from their outdoor patio set on the floor so his bum wouldn’t kill him if he ended up in the closet for hours. The meeting was due to start at seven o’clock sharp and last for at least two hours. He should have plenty of time to report to the others before making his curfew.
Eventually the council members drifted in, greeting each other and chatting. Clinks of glasses and the sound of liquid being poured could be heard through the door. Those men love their drinks, Luke thought, shaking his head.
Once the rustling and moving around stopped, John Barrington called the meeting to order by reciting the traditional words of opening, “I call the Barrington County Council Meeting to order. We, the remaining five descendants of the original six, bound together by the shedding of blood, gather to protect our demesnes and the denizens living therein.”
Shedding of blood? Luke shuddered.
“Hear hear,” the men intoned.
“The Circle is convened. The room is magically sealed. No one can hear our conversation.”
Magically sealed? Luke was surprised. My dad knows magic?
“Your boy is dating the Kellar girl,” Eric Sweet said nastily, “won’t it be tough on you if you have to kill his girlfriend?”
Luke froze in horror.
“We are not killing anyone,” John Barrington said with a threat in his voice.
Whew!
“We did once,” Eric snorted.
“It’s one thing to kill a witch that had already murdered two children and was planning a third in order to transform into a powerful demon. It’s another thing to kill an innocent human girl because her last name is Kellar,” John Barrington said in outrage.
Bill Farmer cleared his throat. “My Hannah says that Sadie Kellar is a witch and that it was her that murdered my sweet cow.” He wiped his eyes before he continued. “She says that Kellar girl has bewitched your boy Luke, and that he dances to her tune. Apparently Luke and Hannah were almost an item at the beginning of the summer, but the witch stole him.”
Luke was shocked to his very core. Me and Hannah an item? Stupid, stupid, stupid, unobservant, self-obsessed idiot! Luke thought to himself furiously. He should have known. Still, why was Hannah lying? She’s supposed to be my friend! he thought angrily. The broom closet started to feel tiny. He prayed he wouldn’t start to hyperventilate.
“Well, she is one pretty girl,” Eric said lasciviously.
John spoke harshly. “Watch it Eric. It was your ancestor who suffered under Willow Kellar’s bewitchment. It has been a source of shame for your family for generations because Alaric bawled like a baby at her hanging. Do not make shameful comments like that here. It’s beneath you,” he said severely.
“Bah…” Eric said, waving his hand angrily.
Noah Baker spoke up. “I did some research from the last time we met. I’m not sure how the hex can be activated, John. Willow distinctly said, ‘gather and die.’ That would require a surviving heir of Father Joshua Brown, who according to Dame Parqhuar, presided over the attempted saving of her soul. He was one of the six.”
Of course, Luke thought, the hex! That’s why Willow’s here! Luke was floored.
“So, what does that mean?” Daniel Smith asked. He was Noah’s best friend and a “one word should sum it up” type of guy.
“I’m getting to that, Dan,” Noah said patiently. “Jedidiah Brown was the last surviving child of Joshua’s direct line. He died in 1860 of tuberculosis. He was only seventeen.”
“Our kids are all seventeen,” Bill said musingly.
“Wasn’t Joshua a priest?” Eric said snidely. “I thought they weren’t supposed to have ‘relations’ with women, and that they were unclean temptresses.”
What an ass, Luke thought to himself.
“According to Jacob, Joshua was married in his teens and lost his wife during childbirth. He didn’t want to remarry. He let his sister bring up his son so that he could pursue the priesthood. This was his promise to God if he would let the child live. Apparently, neither of them should have survived,” Noah explained.
“Tough,” Dan said sympathetically.
“Their loss is our gain,” Eric said in his usual unsympathetic way. “Too bad about the family dying out, but that solves our problem.”
“We’re missing something,” John said, shaking his head. “The hex is active, so it’s safe to assume that maybe one of Joshua’s descendents had a child out of wedlock who exists in this time, near here. Maybe we just don’t know about it. There’s no other explanation.”
That is odd, Luke thought.
“So, you don’t really have confirmation, yet you had Holt paint the barns without council approval,” Eric tossed out accusingly.
“Yes, I did. It was my right as mayor and owner of Barrington County, and they’re going to stay that way—at least until the festival is over on All Saints Day.”
Owner? We own the whole county? Luke was shocked for the second time that night.
“It doesn’t hurt to be cautious,” Noah said quietly.
“Get confirmation, then, Eric. Your son’s a computer nerd. See if James can follow the Brown’s bloodline.”
“Fine,” Eric barked.
Lie, Luke thought to himself. He knew Eric was lying. He had no intention of asking James anything.
Luke heard sounds of shuffling and Eric’s voice again, “But for now I’m going to The Rotunda for a drink. Who wants to join me?”
“I move to adjourn the meeting,” Dan Smith announced.
“I second,” said Bill Farmer.
“May we be excused, John?” Eric asked grouchily.
“Meeting adjourned,” John said smoothly, releasing the containment spell. The men filed out, but his father didn’t leave.
“John,” it was his mother. “Sheriff Holt is here to see you.”
Luke waited as the Sheriff walked in and closed the door behind him.
“Bit of a ruckus at The Rotunda yesterday,” he said calmly. “Some huge tattooed leather dude rallied up a bunch of drunken idiots and hunted a man through the woods all the way to the lake. The man’s a wreck. He says they kept screaming ‘run skin bag’ and were shooting at him from their horses with hunting rifles. He escaped by jumping into the lake. Apparently, the idiots had ‘dates’ and didn’t want to get wet, so they left.”
“Do you think they would have harmed him, or was it just macho games?”
“He claims the guy in leather would have done it,” the Sheriff said uneasily.
John was shocked. Violence in his town…murder.
“I don’t know, John, but I’m not tak
ing any chances. I’m radioing up to Limerick for some additional staff until the festival’s done. It’s a bit much with just me, my deputy, and the unarmed neighborhood watch.”
John asked the dreaded question. “Should we close the festival early this year, Holt?” It had never been done, but this type of thing had never happened before either. He had to consider the safety of the town.
“Number of vendors has swelled, and most folks are paid up until the end of October. Could have a mutiny,” the Sheriff replied with a shrug.
“You’re right. No need to panic. Do what you need to do, Sheriff,” John said grimly.
After the Sheriff left, John shut the light and left the room. Luke burst out of the little cupboard. The small dark space had started giving him the creeps. He took great gulps of fresh air. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He headed to the door and checked the hallway for adults before heading to his room to call Sadie.
Wednesday, September 4
Barrington School Grounds
The next day the four congregated around a picnic table under the trees far away from the crowds of kids milling around. Dean’s little brothers were poking each other with sticks on the Little House’s lawn.
Luke looked at them worriedly. “Shouldn’t you break that up? One of them could lose an eye.”
“Nah, it’s inevitable anyway,” Dean said casually. Luckily the kindergarten teacher came out and within seconds the boys looked angelic. All signs of the sticks were gone.
“See,” Dean waved casually in their direction, “all taken care of.”
Nathalie laughed and smacked the back of Dean’s head. “Can we focus now?” she asked, drawing everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand. Luke had big news, and she wanted to know what it was.
Luke explained how his father had sealed the room, how the council believed the Kellar hex had been activated, and then repeated the actual hex, verbatim.
“‘Gather and die?’ That’s it?” Dean looked disappointed.
Luke snorted. “What? You want more? You want to add some codicils to make it interesting, like…in agony? With a disease?”
“Luke…” Sadie said, horrified.
Nathalie was determined to stay focused. “But you said they confirmed Jedidiah Brown’s death in 1860. So if the curse is ‘gather and die,’ how can you do that without a Brown?”
“He was our age,” Sadie said quietly. “Do you realize that every family on the town council has a child that’s seventeen?” They all looked at her as she continued. “The town council is made up of five original families that founded Barrington. Not all original families, only five of them. Why? Why are they the lucky ones who run the town and get all the privileges? They are also the only families whose homes were marked with blood, except for the addition of the Crofts. No others. Why add the Crofts?”
Luke spoke slowly. “I remember…the families who eventually became part of the town council were set apart because they were the ones who saw justice prevail on the worst evil that ever affected the town.”
“Willow’s death. So, they were lauded by the townsfolk then?” Nathalie said.
“No, it’s the other way around, actually,” Luke explained. “The council was formed by the cursed. They banded together to take the steps needed to protect the town, and themselves. None of the other original families were involved, so I’m not sure why the Crofts are.”
“Great,” Dean mumbled.
“I looked in the book I bought on Barrington County. The families hexed by Willow aren’t listed, so we don’t have a confirmed list; however, we can hazard a pretty accurate guess who they were. Our town council plus the Browns.”
Sadie nodded. “As confirmed by Mrs. Barrington’s list. I looked up the blood marking. It’s actually a death sigil. They’re used by spells to call the victims. According to Elanah, the blood and the symbol together identify ‘the called.’ When the call comes, the victims go.”
“Great,” Dean said again, depressed.
“It makes sense that the family names are omitted,” Luke said. “The less information people have, the less possible it is to bring all the parts together to activate the Kellar witch’s legacy. It’s strategic.”
“I think I know how the hex was activated,” Sadie interjected. “A couple of things I found out from my aunt last night. She said I was the first female born of the Kellar line since Willow. The rest were boys. So the presence of…well…my presence may have been a catalyst. I was brought back to Barrington County just before my first birthday. I do not know what happened to my mother or my father.” Sadie sighed.
“I always wondered why your family returned to Barrington, especially considering the town’s history and the fame of the Kellar name,” Nathalie said curiously.
“I’m glad they did,” Luke said with a grin, grabbing Sadie’s hand and giving it a loud kiss.
Sadie’s lips twitched. “Who knows for sure? I think it was because I was the first female born since Willow.”
“I don’t know why, but it never occurred to me that Willow had any children, but she must have,” Luke said.
Sadie shrugged. “She did, but we have no records. Personal information on Willow or her heirs was hidden or deliberately destroyed. I know I’m descended directly from her, so her heirs were well protected since we’ve survived. But if I’m the first girl since Willow, then she had a son at some point.”
“She was too young for kids. She was twenty-one when she died!” Dean exclaimed.
“I don’t think that was considered young then,” Nathalie mused. “All this havoc and terror from such a young girl. It’s too bad. Much of what we know about Willow Kellar is through other people’s perceptions and opinions of her. We have nothing from her perspective.”
“Didn’t she have a diary, Sadie?” Dean asked.
“Yes, she did. She was educated and could write,” Sadie confirmed. “She also wrote her grimoire. Trust me, she had to have written that herself. Too bad her diary only records her last couple of years in Barrington. There’s no information on her life before that. It may have helped us in some way.”
“Anything she wrote would have been burned as a work of the devil. Don’t forget ‘The Rock.’”
The Rock was the place where the gallows had been lifted to hang and burn Willow Kellar for witchcraft, consorting with the devil, and murder. It was her final resting place as her body burned to ash. The Rock had been engraved with a warning, in Latin, to all those who would follow in her footsteps. It was a chilling monument left by their forebears. No grass grew around it.
Just recently a creepy visit to The Rock became part of the new “Witch-Hunt Excursion,” organized by the Social Activities Director of Barrington. It involved participating in a witch hunt, trial, and mock hanging. It was hugely popular because it seemed so real. People returned terrified…and thrilled. The activity was fully booked until Halloween.
“So we have some holes,” Dean said.
“Yes, like the dead line of the Browns,” Luke reminded them. “We can’t explain that.”
“We need more information,” Nathalie said worriedly. “The question now is…when? When do the signs stop and the action begin?”
Sadie frowned. “I should know this. I feel like I’ve seen the date, but I just can’t remember.”
After school, Luke and Sadie were headed home when they were intercepted by a band of school kids on bikes, led by Reg Baker. Reg was the town’s loudmouth and was generally harmless, just very annoying in a braying donkey kind of way. Today was no exception.
“Hey, Sadie!” he yelled to the snickering accompaniment of the sycophant idiots around him. “The witch-hunt is a freaking blast! I think it would be even better if we were hunting an actual Kellar,” he said, laughing harshly. “It would add a mind blowing level of reality to the game.”
“Yeah, and I’d love to chase your ass through the woods, Kellar,” said another boy, making lewd gestures at Sadie from his bike
.
Luke was shocked and furious, and so was Sadie. She stood stock still, but he could feel power crackling in her hands where their fingers were entwined. Before anything could happen, the boys took off, hooting and yelling like the hooligans they were.
Nearby, Hannah stood in the shadows of an alley and watched, her fingers itching with a story.
The Kellar Residence
When Sadie got home she was still upset.
“It’s just Reg,” Luke had said soothingly, kissing her on the top of her head. “We all know he’s got dough for brains.”
Sadie had smiled weakly at his pun, but remained concerned. She had noticed that a few of the townsfolk had subtly made the symbol to ward off evil towards her, one of them being their principal. Hostility towards her family was rising.
Liora was sitting at the kitchen table when Sadie walked in. She took one look at Sadie and grunted. “What’s your problem, girl? Did that Barrington scumbag dump you?”
Sadie frowned at her aunt. “No, of course not.”
“You should dump him, then. He’s not good enough for you,” she muttered under her breath. She was drinking tea and the steam from the cup was giving off a peculiar odor.
“Aunt Liora…” Sadie warned.
“All right, all right girl, you made your point about the boy.”
Sadie sat down at the table. Her aunt seemed different, almost dreamy. “What are you drinking?”
“It’s a special tea for witches,” she cackled.
Sadie’s look bored into her. “For witches? Why do you say that? Are you being treated differently lately? That ridiculous hunt/show they are putting on…shouldn’t we complain about the inappropriateness of it? It doesn’t seem to take much to get people, well, riled up these days over silly things. The town feels different, like there’s an edge of madness. I’m afraid they’ll start believing all that nonsense they’re spouting and actually come after us.”
Liora looked at Sadie with her dreamy eyes. They were slate gray and moist. “It’s not nonsense, you silly girl. We are witches.”
“I know, but we’re not dangerous.”
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