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“Who says, girl. You? You’re not dangerous. It’s embarrassing,” she muttered.
Sadie’s mouth firmed and she frowned. “What did you do, Aunt Liora? Have you been stirring things up?” she asked warningly.
She jumped as Liora’s hand hit the table with a loud slap. “You better believe I have!” she yelled, spittle flying everywhere. “I stirred things up, I did! Make the sign of the devil at me! Ha! I cursed all of them! ‘BOO!’ I screamed at their kids on the street, and did they RUN!” Liora was laughing insanely. “We’ll show them! Oh, we’ll show ALL OF THEM! Our time is coming, Sadie girl, and there’s no stopping it now.”
Sadie sat frozen at the table. “When?” she asked quietly. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. But her aunt didn’t answer her. She was still laughing and slapping her hand on the table. Sadie got up and saw her uncle in the kitchen doorway. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there.
“Look at the calendar,” he mouthed. He was staring at Liora and frowning.
Of course. The calendar…the Witch’s Calendar. The only calendar Liora cared about. Sadie drifted over to the wall where it was pinned. It was just one sheet of all the feasts, solstices, moons, and power cycles. Sadie looked closely. Summer solstice had passed in June. June 21. The next one was…Samhain, one of the times when a witch’s power was at its peak. Otherwise known as All Hallows Eve or Halloween.
Sadie went to call Luke but she never made it.
The Fairgrounds
Wayman watched unsmilingly as Barrington’s troupe of actors pranced around, exciting the crowd over what they were about to see—the capture of a witch! Her trial and JUSTICE! They spoke in old-fashioned terms, loading the eager show-goers onto the large hay wagon. Their clientele squeezed together and talked excitedly. This is so wrong, he thought to himself, but he didn’t have a choice.
When Mrs. Throckmorton-Frosst had first approached him about having the “Witch-Hunt Excursion” leave from his stables using his hay wagon and horses, he had said no.
She had been taken aback and looked at him haughtily, jowls shaking above her pearls and pink suit.
“Whatever do you mean, my dear man? This is to increase the success of the festival! This show is already so popular that the excursion has already been booked solid through October, and it hasn’t even started yet! It’s only one show a night, and it occurs after you’ve closed the stalls for riding,” she had blustered.
“My dear lady,” he had said winningly, his white teeth spread in a wide grin that made Mrs. Throckmorton-Frosst fan herself. “I understand the success of the festival is key to the town’s yearly earnings, however, you are proposing to stage the witch-hunt, trial, and execution of the ancestor of a current resident of the town; a resident that just so happens to be a friend of mine.”
Mrs. Throckmorton-Frosst huffed. “I know very well that the Kellars are residents, but they have claimed no relationship to the witch, so the point is moot. Also, I’ll have you know that this is a…historical reenactment! It’s the history that made this town famous and people have the right to come for miles to be chilled and horrified by it!”
Wayman had disagreed and politely sent Mrs. Throckmorton-Frosst away in a huff. Unfortunately, she appeared later that day, like a bad penny, but with Eric Sweet in tow.
“Mr. Wayman…” she began—
“It’s just Wayman,” he said smiling at her. She fluttered a little. “Oh my,” she muttered.
Eric rolled his eyes. “Look, ‘just Wayman,’” he said condescendingly, looking around the stable with derision, “the activity WILL go on. The festival council has made their decision, and you’ll abide by it.”
Wayman’s green eyes glowed as they met Eric’s, and he seemed to flicker.
“Got it?” Eric asked disparagingly. He was fingering a gold coin and tossing it into the air nonchalantly. “Something wrong with your eyes?”
Wayman frowned. “No, and that’s a bad penny my friend,” he said casually, noticing the markings.
“Not planning on spending it,” Eric said carelessly. “I think we’re done here,” he said, turning away to leave.
“It’s not a good idea to reenact the terrible evil that has happened in a town. It could have serious repercussions,” Wayman said warningly.
“Luckily we’re not a superstitious bunch,” Eric called back in a bored voice as he headed into the fair, and towards Beth’s booth.
Mrs. Throckmorton-Frosst followed quickly. “The show will start the last Friday of August. The sets are being built right now Mr.…ah…Wayman.”
He frowned at the memory and watched as the hay wagon lurched away. The show was hugely popular. The wagon was full to the brim every night. He turned to reenter the barn when he caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and watched grimly as a show straggler caught up to the wagon and hopped on. The people were tightly packed together, but they made space for the newcomer, seemingly unconsciously. The figure was wearing a black hooded cloak. The flash had come from the metal on the necklace she was wearing. He was startled to realize that she was staring at him. Her glowing violet eyes were narrowed and filled with fury and hatred. She knew he could see her and she bared her teeth at him just before the wagon disappeared into the woods.
Sadie. No, not Sadie. Someone else. Someone vicious.
“THAT’S what I was afraid of,” Wayman whispered and sprinted to get Taline.
The Barrington Bugle Newspaper Office
Hannah laughed as she typed her letter to the editor. She wrote furiously to make tomorrow’s edition.
THE BARRINGTON BUGLE – THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 5
Letters to the Editor
Dear Editor:
Strange things are happening in Barrington that defy explanation! Many of our citizens have been having a run of bad luck. People have been walking under ladders and having accidents. Milk is curdling after one day, even in the refrigerator. People are picking up cursed pennies and are bewitched into doing evil things. A black cat crosses your path and something bad happens immediately afterwards! Don’t forget, they are traditionally used as a witch’s familiar. When will this town realize what’s happening? We know who’s behind this! Let’s have a real witch hunt. Let’s hunt the cause of our problems through the woods and make her confess to her witchcraft. Has she not bewitched the son of her mortal enemy? The son of our Mayor, the most powerful man in Barrington! If he were in his right mind, there is no way a Barrington would be dating a witch whose ancestor his family burned! No, he has been seduced by the devil’s temptress. Beware before ruin comes to us all!
-Anonymous
THE BARRINGTON BUGLE – THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 5
Special Late Afternoon Supplement
Witch Hunt Excursion Cursed! Spectators Almost Die After Trial!
By X. Agerate
It was a horrifying event for many who attended the witch-hunt excursion last night. According to organizers, after Willow is sentenced to die as a witch, the spectators (who play the jurors) are supposed to follow the Kellar witch (played by our own lovely Rose Bane) to the gallows screaming “burn her!” Everything is done by torchlight and the hanging and the burning are, surprisingly, realistic. However, things took a strange turn when everyone in the crowd started suffocating or screaming they were on fire.
“It was unreal,” said a gum cracking teen from Limerick, “but it was cool.”
Not everyone found it exciting. “I felt chills the whole time during the trial, like icy fingers on my neck,” said Ms. Bea Little, also from Limerick. “I noticed lots of people rubbing their necks. When we left the juror box and started to play our part, that’s when I started to suffocate. It was terrifying.”
Mr. Mike R. Phone claims he was on fire. “I swear I was on fire. I don’t have any marks, but I was on fire. It really hurt and I dropped my beer. I never drop my beer.”
According to Dr. Leo Tauran, a prominent Limerick psychic, he suspects the spectat
ors were so psyched for what they were going to go through on the excursion that they all underwent what he calls a “communal psychic event.” Tauran says this is common. “Even though the event isn’t ‘real’ people develop mob mentality, which goes against today’s societal norms, causing deep stress. This stress manifests itself physically through ‘ghost pain,’ like what was experienced during this communal event. They channeled Willow’s agony.”
During the panic and pandemonium, the gallows did catch on fire and burn to the ground. Luckily, new gallows were put up immediately, so the show will go on tonight.
Again, do we need to remind our visitors of the dangers of smoking in the woods?!
Thursday, September 5
Barrington School Grounds
Luke was frantic. Sadie was not in school and he couldn’t reach her on her cell phone. She hadn’t met him at their usual spot to walk to school together. He had waited as long as he could before he ran to school, hoping she’d be there.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Nathalie said, but not before Luke caught the worried glance she darted at Dean. It was not like Sadie to be late, or to not call.
Luke agonized during morning classes. By lunch he was ready to explode with anxiety.
“Where are you going?” Dean yelled as Luke streaked by their usual lunch table.
“I’m going to the Kellar’s to check on Sadie,” he shouted.
Austin Baker was walking by as Luke ran past. He stopped by Dean and Nathalie’s table. “Sadie was at the Witch-Hunt Excursion last night. I saw her getting on the hay wagon just as it was leaving,” he commented before walking off.
“Last night?” Dean asked curiously. He turned to Nathalie. “I wonder why she didn’t say anything to Luke?”
“Maybe it wasn’t Sadie,” Nathalie said meaningfully.
“Shit, that’s not good.”
The Kellar Residence
Luke arrived at the Kellar’s farmhouse sweaty and out of breath. He ran to the front door and banged on it. Liora Kellar opened the door a crack, glaring at him. “What do you want, boy?” she asked him spitefully.
“Is Sadie home? Is she okay?” he asked fearfully, talking a step back as Liora started to grin, her yellow teeth rimmed with spittle. She looked crazy.
“Sadie is just fine, boy. Just a little under the weather. Go away.” She slammed the door in his face.
Liora watched as Luke walked away slowly, glancing back like a wounded dog, worry written all over his face.
“Fool,” Liora hissed.
“Is that the Barrington boy?” Sadie’s voice asked from the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, but the cruel expression and the derision dripping from her voice instantly confirmed that the person speaking was not Sadie at all. “Luckily I’m getting stronger. I can hold her for longer periods now. Soon I won’t need to gather my strength and wait for a weak moment to take her.” Willow flexed her hands in front of her. “I can’t tap her power completely yet, though power rolls through her like a lava storm waiting to erupt. Soon…soon I will be strong enough to use all of it. I touched it last night, and it was marvelous, incredible. Look what I achieved! People choking and burning—enjoying some of my last mortal sensations. I could have murdered them all!” Willow’s face filled with fury. “Imagine, the Witch-Hunt Excursion!” she hissed. “Every last person who participated will feel my wrath and suffer what I suffered.”
“You’ll get your chance, Willow. Not long now,” Liora said ingratiatingly, pouring tea.
“That boy is a nuisance. He’s just like Jacob. You can’t hide from the true sight of the Barringtons, Liora. You must keep him away from me.”
“He already knows what’s happening,” Liora said, putting another cup of the fragrant tea in front of Willow. “Sadie has told that boy everything.”
“That is fine, Liora, just keep us apart. When his emotions run strong, so do hers, and she’s harder to manage.” Willow pushed the tea away. “This won’t help anymore. She awakens and she’s strong. Soon! Prepare the way, Liora. My host and my refuge must be ready!” Willow said firmly before crumpling to the table.
Barrington School Grounds
When Luke got back to school, the kids accosted him. “Hey Barrington! Looks like your girlfriend’s a jinx!”
Luke grabbed a paper from a passing student and started riffling through it.
“Look in the ‘Letters to the Editor’ section,” Nathalie said quietly. Luke flipped to the page and read the small, mean letter. “Anonymous, again. What kind of person writes that?”
“And what is Heimler thinking, allowing that to be printed?” Nathalie asked angrily.
“Did you find Sadie?” Dean asked, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Liora says she’s sick, but I think she’s lying.”
“Maybe she’s upset about the paper…”
“Sadie only reads the paper at lunch or later. It’s not delivered to her house, so she gets a copy on her way in.”
“Oh, it’s just that her episodes are triggered when she gets upset. At least she becomes more vulnerable…”
Tess came by and gave Nathalie a hug before turning to Luke. “I was just at the fairgrounds and Wayman gave me this for you,” she said, handing him a note.
“Call me,” she mimed to Nathalie as she walked away.
“What does it say?” Nathalie asked.
“He wants me to go and see him after school. He says…oh no…he saw Sadie last night too, and we need to talk.”
“So Austin wasn’t full of shit the little…shit,” Dean muttered.
Nathalie smacked him. “He’s not the ass, Dean, it’s his brother. Don’t take it out on him.”
“Ass-ed-ness runs in families,” Dean muttered.
“Excuse me, you three,” a disdainful voice said behind their backs. They turned around to find the principal staring at them, his hands behind his back, and a look of inquiry on his face. The rest of the area was empty. “Perhaps you think the rules don’t apply to you? Hmmm? Yes? The bell rang five minutes ago. Perhaps you would deign to join your fellow students for afternoon classes? Hmmm? You think?” Then he frowned. “March!” he barked at them.
Luke crumpled the note and put it in his pocket as the three of them hurried into the school.
The Fairgrounds
The afternoon seemed to take forever. Luke fidgeted until his English teacher asked in exasperation if he had ants in his pants. When the school bell rang, Luke dashed out of the school.
“Wait up, Luke!” Dean yelled, sprinting after him.
Nathalie stayed behind to make sure the twins were headed home with Ella before heading to the fair herself.
When she arrived the boys were talking with Wayman in the barn.
“Wayman, are you sure it was her? Why didn’t you call me right away?” Luke asked.
“It was her all right, physically anyway.” Wayman smiled in welcome at Nathalie as she walked in, and she got that peculiar buzzing in her head that she always experienced around him.
“And the reason I didn’t call you is because the being possessing Sadie is evil. Murderously evil and furiously angry. Hate bleeds out of her. Sadie is one powerful witch, and that being would have murdered everyone at that show, including you. Especially you. However, it’s obvious she has not fully tapped into Sadie’s power. I’m telling you, I haven’t seen a witch that powerful since…”
“Since?” Luke prompted, curious.
“Well, a really long time. When the witch hunters burned witches in the late fifteen hundreds, most of them weren’t actually witches. Some were, of course, but they weren’t the smart ones. The powerful ones hid and worked their magic under the cover of night. The arrogant ones were caught. The rest were just regular women, victims of jealousy, spite, and superstition mostly.”
“Wayman, we’ve confirmed that Sadie is being possessed by her ancestor, Willow Kellar. We are also certain she’s invoking her hex and trying to bring it about.”
Nathalie was curious about a couple of things. “How did you guess?”
“We’re not from around here, honey,” Taline said softly as she came up behind Nathalie and gave her a hug. “It takes a lot of energy to get us here from where we…live.”
Dean looked confused, but Luke nodded. “I suspected as much,” he said simply. “You’re Fae, Faerie, what many call the old folk.”
Wayman bowed. “Mr. Seer with the true sight.”
“I’m confused,” said Dean, putting a voice to his expression.
“We’re not human, Dean. Mortals call us the Fae or Fairy Folk. To put is simply, we live in a different realm, but we can interact with people and live on earth,” Taline said quietly.
“Oh God,” Dean groaned.
“Our story’s for another time,” Wayman said firmly.
“So, what do I do about Sadie, Wayman?” Luke asked softly.
“Willow is still not strong enough to hold Sadie for long. Sadie is too powerful in her own right. What we don’t want is for Willow to hurt Sadie while she’s in control of the body…” Wayman hesitated.
“Are you saying I should stay away from her?” Luke asked in a tight voice.
Taline walked over and put her arm around his shoulders. “Luke, Willow Kellar hates you. It’s not only because you can see her, and possibly interfere with her plans. Your ancestor executed her in a humiliating, terrifying, and painful way and ruined what she was trying to accomplish. There is no distinction for her between you and Jacob. You are a Barrington and she wants you dead.”
Wayman looked towards the woods. The hay wagon was ready for the evening’s festivities. “What you need to be aware of is that all of these events are generating an energy around Barrington that is growing exponentially. When your father painted the town barns, and Sadie invoked Elanah’s ancient spell, she magically sealed the town and trapped the energy here. Without the spell, the energy would diffuse and spread to the other two counties.”
“So?”
“The spell is designed to protect two towns—Limerick and Superstition. For some reason this was of paramount importance, controlling the energy of Willow’s hex,” Wayman said.