“We have decided that we need you and that Spaniard after all, at least for a while, Mistress Swinburne.”
Circe stared at him, her chest heaving.
“It appears that you lied to us. This time we will get the location of the Grand Portal. We grew suspicious when Gregorio could not summon the power to turn base minerals into gold. We squeezed the truth from Dr. Lumpkin though with a little pressure.”
Circe shut her eyes, horrified at the thought of what they may have done.
“We felt very foolish and even a bit angry when we found out that you had lied to us,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “A transgression of that magnitude is truly unforgivable.”
He sighed and looked at her thoughtfully. “I must say that I don’t understand the Goddess. Why would she give powers to an insignificant little weaver and a debauched Spaniard?” He shrugged and chuckled. “But then look at the Christians and their carpenter.”
He stood up and brushed his breeches off. “Ah, well, De la Rosa will be here forthwith to rescue his princess; then, we can get started.”
Before he dropped the cellar door, he added, “I know what you’re thinking, child. You will send us on a merry chase once again and tell us more lies, but Berwyn is taking care of that problem. She is down at the lake this very minute conjuring an ancient spell that will force the truth from you. It will haunt and plague you until we are satisfied.” He shuddered. “It is most unpleasant.”
Circe dropped back onto the dirt floor when he slammed the cellar door. Cedric was right. Dante would come shortly, and he would walk right into their trap. Then what would happen? Would they force them to search high and low for the Grand Portal? And what if they couldn’t find it? She remembered Berwyn summoning the spirits with Cedric and Gregorio the other night. And she recalled the hideous creatures in the smoke. There was no question; the woman was indeed a powerful sorceress and to be feared.
* * *
Cheeseborough couldn’t believe his eyes as he walked home from the chandlery that evening. There he was! That demon apothecary was back. Had the Swinburne woman returned too? He looked again as he turned toward the docks. Yes, indeed, it was him. He would know that dark face anywhere even with the hat pulled low. He was probably going to the taverns. How audacious to be wandering the streets of Boston when you are wanted for witchcraft. The devil has indeed emboldened him.
Cheeseborough climbed the steps to Reverend Fawcett’s home with his chest puffed out. When the housekeeper opened the door, he said, “Prithee, may I speak with the Witchfinder General?”
* * *
Dante tried to calm himself and think clearly. The note he found on the floor written in Gregorio’s hand merely said, “Regards.”
This was a trap without question. He didn’t care what they wanted. He would give them anything as long as they did not harm Circe. “By the gods above, I cannot lose her!” he exclaimed.
Oh, how he hated Gregorio. That venomous creature destroys everything in his path and now he’ll take Circe too.
Dante checked his pistol and put a dagger in his boot. He would decide what to do as he traveled to the Rhys residence. He dashed out of the house searching the street frantically. There was a horse tethered to a post nearby and, without a moment’s hesitation, he was on its back and thundering out of town.
He was riding low and fast, so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize there were riders following him. At last, when he saw them, he barked, “Damn!”
He led the mare into the brush as he rounded the curve. They passed by him quickly but it was too dark to see their faces. Dante decided to take the trail along the river. The path was rough but direct; he would lose no time.
When he finally arrived at the Rhys residence, the five riders were there and dismounting.
Jumping from his horse, Dante tethered the mare to a tree in the woods and ran up, edging around the house until he could hear what they were saying.
The first voice was Cedric’s. “I am most grateful but it seems your worry was for naught. We are quite safe here.”
“You have seen or heard nothing unusual?” It was Joseph Duncan.
“I am glad to report that I have not. Now, won’t you come in for some refreshment before you return home?”
“Thank you, but no. I want to search the area.”
“That is completely unnecessary,” Cedric protested.
“I would be remiss if I did not.”
“But−”
Duncan ignored him and gave the order for his men to do a sweep of the grounds. They set off with lanterns raised high and weapons drawn. Dante pressed himself against the house, hoping they would not see him or his horse standing in the woods. He wondered if they might find Circe or if Cedric had her hidden inside the home.
After several moments, one of Duncan’s men returned and said, “Sir, come quickly.”
They all disappeared down the path to the lake. Dante ran after them, circling wide through the brush and squatted down to see what captured their attention.
It was Berwyn, and she was standing by a bonfire in a white robe chanting in Latin. He recognized the words as an invocation to the Gatekeeper. She stood with her arms raised, a bronze torque around her neck and her blonde hair hanging down her back. The robe was so sheer; the form of her naked body could be seen in the firelight. Once again, at her feet were Dante’s mortar and pestle and Circe’s cloth.
Joseph Duncan burst into the clearing holding a Bible high followed by his men. Berwyn was so taken with her ritual that she didn’t notice until he roared, “Almighty Lord, protect me from this pagan demon!”
Only then did she blink and look around, surprised by the outburst.
“Constance!” Cedric cried, pushing his way to the front of the group. “What manner of blasphemy is this?”
Her confusion turned to fury. She exclaimed, “How dare you call our sacred rite blasphemous!”
“Seize her,” Duncan commanded. The men stepped up, taking her arms.
Berwyn struggled and showered them with profanities. Gone was the demure young woman so upright and God-fearing.
“What have you done, my daughter?” Cedric asked, feigning innocence. “Why have you allowed the devil to seduce you?”
“Venomous liar!” she snarled, her face contorted with rage.
Duncan narrowed his eyes and looked at Cedric.
“Please,” Cedric protested, putting his hands up. “I had no idea witchcraft was being practiced here.”
“He is false!” she shrieked and broke away from the men.
Berwyn lurched forward to claw Cedric’s face but stepped too close to the fire. It was a fatal mistake. The hem of her filmy garment ignited.
Looking down, she screamed and slapped her body as the flames crackled and climbed up her torso igniting her long hair. The next instant, she became a living torch. Overcome with madness, she ran, tripped and fell, flailing on the ground. One of the men tried to snuff the flames with his cloak, but it was too late. Berwyn was dead.
Everyone stared at the macabre sight, including Dante, light flickering on their horrified faces.
At last, Duncan dragged his eyes away. “Where is Rhys?”
Everyone looked, but Cedric was gone.
* * *
Losing no time, Dante rushed back to the house. He had to find Circe. He waited for Duncan and his men to leave. Then, he combed every inch of the residence looking for her. He looked in the cellar after searching the barn, but she was not there either.
His next stop was Dr. Lumpkin’s home, but when he walked up the stairs an odd feeling washed over him. He opened the door and took out his pistol. Moonlight flooded the room. Lumpkin’s coat was on the peg and his boots were by the door. Everything seemed in order, but when Dante started to the fireplace, his foot hit something heavy.
“Dios mio!” he exclaimed.
It was Dr. Lumpkin. He was face down on the floor, a circle of blood soaking the carpet.
“
No!” he said, touching his cold body. “Not you, my friend.”
Dante searched the house and barn with no time to lose, but still no Circe. Mounting his horse, he flew down to the apothecary shop. There was a light in the window.
He dismounted, kicked the door open and stepped inside with his pistol raised. The first thing he saw was Circe, wide-eyed with terror. Gregorio was standing behind her, holding a dagger to her throat. There were bandages on his face and he was covered in perspiration.
“We’ve been waiting for you, little brother,” he said. “Think not of approaching or I will slice her neck.”
Circe’s gag was off, and her hands were free. She stood stiffly, though, taking short, little breaths.
“What do you want?” Dante snapped.
“Father’s map. I’ve already obtained the mask from your inamorata.”
“The map is of no use to you, Gregorio,” he said. “You need us to channel it.”
He sneered, “Still filled with self-importance, aren’t you? I can find the Grand Portal myself. I tried to convince Cedric and Berwyn of that fact, but they didn’t listen. They always had all the answers.”
“Dante,” Circe pleaded. “Give him the map.”
He shook his head. “I will not. All his life, Gregorio has taken whatever he wants. Not this time.”
“Still whining about the past?”
Dante looked at the bandages. “What happened to your face?”
“Fool that I was, I allowed Berwyn cut me so that I could pass as you.” Still holding the blade to Circe’s throat, he ripped off his bandages. Two jagged lacerations were on his face, one on his forehead and another by his ear. They were red and swollen with pus oozing. “She cut me weeks ago, and they still haven’t healed. I listened to that filthy whore; now my blood is poisoned!”
“And you came here to find our mother’s cure.”
“That’s right. I knew you would have it.” He gestured to an empty bottle on the table. “I helped myself, thank you very much,” Gregorio said. “Now hand over the map.”
“No.”
“Dante!” Circe sobbed. Tears were running down her cheeks and she was trembling.
Gregorio lifted the blade and lightly cut the surface of her skin. She yelped, red blood oozing down her neck. “Shall I do it again?” he asked.
“Dante, please!” she cried.
Opening his coat, Dante ripped the lining, removed the map and held it out.
But Gregorio started choking as he reached for it. Dropping the dagger, he clutched his stomach and fell to his knees.
In a flash, Dante yanked Circe behind him. “You fool, Gregorio,” he sneered. “You drank the wrong fungus formula. That contained St. Anthony’s Fire. There was enough in there to kill ten men.”
Gregorio’s eyes grew wide with horror. Another wave of nausea swept over him and he retched violently.
“I’m sorry, Circe,” Dante said. “But if I gave him the map any sooner, he would have slit your throat. I thought the poison would never manifest.”
Gregorio shrieked and then started choking again, blood bubbling to his lips. He gasped one last time and then slumped heavily onto the floor. He was dead.
Chapter 24
It was eerie seeing the light flickering through the trees. Dante and Circe stood in front of Aunt Faye’s home watching the glow in the distance. She shook her head and sighed. “How many more settlements will they burn?”
“Four nights in a row now,” Dante replied.
“I wish we could have stopped Cedric before he told Duncan all the locations.”
“I heard today that Cedric was seen in Gloucester boarding a ship for England.”
“That is good news.”
“Word of his exploits will follow him wherever he goes. He is a ruined man.”
“He is responsible for so much pain and so much loss of life,” and Circe sighed. “I said goodbye to Wren and Mercy today.”
“Where will they go?”
“To the colony of Pennsylvania. There are followers of the Goddess there that will help them find homes.”
“Levi too?”
She shook her head. “He wants no part of town life. He accompanied a group going to the interior yesterday. They are determined to settle there, in spite of the raids.
“Who is left?”
“Just those who have decided to stay in the Great Marsh.”
Dante turned toward the cottage. “The day of the Celtic settlement is over.”
“Perhaps it is better left in the past,” she replied.
They walked inside. Dante banked the fire as Circe turned back the covers on their pallet. She still could not sleep in her aunt and uncle’s bed. It would give her nightmares; she did not need more visits from the spirits. Their whispers were plaguing her again. She thought after everything that had happened; they would be at rest. But on the contrary, they were stronger and more agitated than ever.
She crawled into bed and Dante pulled her close. “It seems strange not to have the cottage full of people,” he said with a sigh. “Our last night here. Tomorrow your family moves in.”
“I think Aunt Faye would approve. It truly benefits everyone. Bullfrog’s house is less than five minutes away.”
“And what of us, little one? After your father performs our handfasting ceremony, shall we start building our cottage?”
“Yes, and we must build a loom. I’m anxious to be weaving again. And maybe there will be a child.”
He smiled and kissed her forehead.
“How soon will you put your shop together?” she asked.
“I will need to travel the colonies to purchase supplies. Money is not the problem. Father left me a great deal of it, but I will need discreet contacts. And I’ll need to find a suitable doctor to live here as well. Until then it will just be me ministering to the sick with my limited skills.”
“Just thinking about everything makes me tired,” Circe said with a yawn.
They drifted off to sleep, but gradually she became restless. She kept hearing Ruith calling for her. At last, she opened her eyes and looked around the room. She was no longer in bed with Dante but back at the family home in Glendower on her pallet. As usual, Ruith’s bed was across from her but it was empty.
“Circe,” she heard Ruith whisper.
She bolted upright. Her sister was standing over her, dressed in one of her work gowns. “Ruith, you’re back! How I’ve missed you!”
“I never left,” she said. Her voice seemed to echo as if far away. “I will never leave you.”
“Nor I,” Circe heard Aunt Faye say.
She looked around the room. “Aunt, where are you?”
“The vision of your aunt has faded,” Ruith said. “That’s why I am here, before your memory of my earthly form fades too.”
“That will never happen,” she argued, but when she looked closely at Ruith, her image was sometimes clear and sometimes indistinct.
“Circe,” Aunt Faye said, “The answer is with you. It has been with you all along.”
“Why must you keep repeating those words, Aunt?” she replied. “I thought Dante was the answer.”
“No,” Ruith replied. “But he is the most essential piece of the puzzle. Follow me, my sister.” Her earthly form disappeared and in its place was a tiny blue firefly.
Light as a feather, Circe followed her out into the night sky. They flew over the treetops until Ruith swooped down to a familiar place. It was her home with Bullfrog. They hovered outside the window and looked inside the cottage. Bullfrog was sitting in front of the hearth dozing. Occasionally he would wake and rock the cradle with his foot. The firelight illuminated his unusual face.
The scene brought tears to Circe’s eyes. She murmured, “That face is very dear to me.”
When she turned, Ruith was gone.
Circe looked back at Bullfrog and her eyes grew wide. “That’s it!” she cried. “Bullfrog is the answer. He has been with me all along and so has the Great
Marsh. He is a product of the Grand Portal which is the Great Marsh!”
A feeling of elation swept over her and she laughed. “Why didn’t I see it? What a fool I’ve been. And Aunt Faye,” she said looking up at the stars. “You always had one foot in the other world, didn’t you? We were all bewitched by the Great Marsh.”
Circe sat up with a gasp. She was back in bed with Dante.
He raised up on one elbow and asked, “Another vivid dream?”
She sighed. “Yes, but I think it is the last.”
* * *
The next evening at twilight, Dante and Circe walked through the remains of the hamlet where Bullfrog was born. Most of the chimney stones were gone, taken by others to build new dwellings. The wood was black and decaying. It was dark and overgrown; the vegetation of the marsh was slowly taking over everything.
“Do you think the Goddess had something to do with the fate of these people?” Dante asked.
The words of her aunt echoed in her ears from years earlier. “Her wrath came upon them for their evil.” Circe shrugged and stepped over some rotting timber. “We will never know.”
“So much makes sense now, doesn’t it?” he said. “Even that old riddle, ‘Search for a place where old meets new and fire meets shadow.’ You realize they were talking about us.”
“Yes, you come from the old world and I am from the new.”
“And fire and shadow are metaphors for our looks and our temperaments.”
Circe laughed. “Indeed, they are.”
Night had fallen as they walked to the shoreline and looked across the marsh. The full moon illuminated the islands and mud flats, and cordgrass. Crickets were chirping loudly; the air was thick with moisture.
“Why do you suppose the Goddess wanted us to find the Grand Portal?” Circe asked.
“Perhaps so we can protect it and be its proper guardians. We must tell no one of its existence in order to safeguard it.”
She nodded. “We will let her decide who is worthy of the truth.”
A breeze carrying the scent of the ocean gently moved Circe’s hair and Dante put his arm around her. Together they watched the fireflies blink and soar over the Great Marsh.
The Firefly Witch (Bold Women of the 17th Century Series, Book 1) Page 24
