Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins

by Margeaux Laurent

  “You must be Aislin's fiancé?” Gillis asked as he reached across the table to shake Greer's hand.

  “Yes . . . and you must be Abigail's new husband.” Strangely, the tone of Greer's voice had changed. He was speaking in an accent with which I was unfamiliar.

  Both Abigail and her husband's eyes were fixed upon Greer.

  “Where are you from?” Gillis questioned, while Greer poured me more wine.

  “Spain,” he replied, without a hint of deception in his voice.

  “Hmmm, Spain. That's a good country. Lot's of ships and goods to trade. What does your family do there?”

  “They are part of the royal court,” Greer replied casually.

  “Do you trade goods at all? Do you own ships?” Sutphin was excited by Greer's response.

  “Aragon is landlocked. I do not care much about the trade of goods, but you look to me as though you would prefer to spend your time trading the goods of warmer waters than Burlington,” Greer said through a crooked smile, although there was no levity in his voice.

  The old swashbuckler squirmed in his seat, “I would not know about that,” he grumbled.

  Soon after their words, my parents joined us. Dinner was being served now, and the servants were bringing the feast to us on silver trays.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Martha amongst the help, and I felt the urge to pull the heavy tray from her hands. This woman was a great priestess, and she should be revered.

  “I am glad that you could make it,” my father said to Greer as he clasped him on the shoulder. My mother greeted him with a gentle handshake and Greer kissed her hand.

  “Are you two enjoying yourselves?” she asked him, as she seated herself at the table.

  “Very much so,” Greer smiled in the direction of Gillis Sutphin, who was now apparently regretting having invited himself to sit at our table.

  A very foppish looking man stood on a chair and clanked a crystal goblet with his fork, “Pardon, pardon,” he announced in a dragged out way, “We are going to say a prayer before we dine,” his powdered wig sitting crooked on his pointy head. With an exaggerated sweeping motion of his right arm, he cast our attention to the Minister.

  “Good evening to all! We have much to thank the Lord for this year. For the harvest that we will enjoy tonight, for the family and friends that gather around us and for England's support of all we have built here.”

  He went on for a while, talking of the Sovereignty of the Crown and how we owed allegiance to England and then he led us in prayer.

  “And finally, before we eat I would like to congratulate the Marthaler's for the marriage of their daughter Abigail to Mr. Sutphin of Virginia,” he said, while raising a glass in their honor.

  Abigail and her husband stood from the table, and Abigail blushed wildly as people clapped for them. Gillis gave a courtly bow before he reseated himself, and yanked hard on Abigail’s wrist, forcing her to return to her seat.

  My thoughts wandered to Rebecca and the Native girl who was murdered. Why were they not mentioned? It was not fair to forget the dead simply because their remembrance would darken the mood of the evening. Then, looking around, I realized that these people did not care.

  Greer reached for my hand underneath the table and held it in his as platters of suckling pig, potatoes, bread, and carrots were placed before us.

  To my surprise, Geer took a hardy sized helping of the meat, mainly the rarest pieces, and we listened as Gillis held us captive with his boastings. On and on her expounded about his Virginia home, his wealth, and his large collection of slaves that would be caring for Abigail.

  To my surprise, Abigail did not seem the least bit excited about her husband's wealth. She looked as though she was on the verge of tears, and stared down miserably at her plate.

  Greer squeezed my hand gently. I believe he read my thoughts, and knew that I was distraught about Abigail's predicament. Images from my Samhain vision kept creeping into my mind—they were inescapable.

  “Do you truly find it fitting to have your daughter marry a foreigner?” Gillis prodded my father while shoveling food into his mouth.

  My father looked rather surprised by the question, “In truth, we are all foreigners here. What does Greer's nationality matter? They love each other. That is all the reasoning I need,” he replied cordially, while grinning at us.

  Greer said nothing, but rolled the stem of his wine glass between his fingers and studied the wine itself.

  Gillis was not finished. He meant to start a confrontation with Greer and pressed on, “His kind cannot be trusted. They are greedy. Gold hunters, that's what they are,” he jeered.

  Greer gently placed his wine glass on the table, “Better a royalty backed explorer than a highwayman of the sea,” Greer rumbled.

  It was strange that no one at the table seemed to notice Greer's accent change, but perhaps there was so much tension at the table that no one particularly cared.

  “Now gentleman, this is a night of celebration and peace,” my father said tentatively.

  Greer looked at my father, “You are right sir. To peace,” he said, as he raised his glass and then drained it.

  Finally, after a tense supper, the plates were cleared away and the band started to play again.

  My mother and father headed to the dance floor; Greer leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Could you please escort Abigail to the powder-room? I would like to have a private word with her husband.”

  I gave him a little nod and stood, gesturing for Abigail to join me. Her husband watched with suspicion as we both walked away from the table, leaving the men alone together.

  As Abigail and I walked passed the dance floor, Jack stepped forward, “May I dance with you Abigail?” he shyly offered his hand.

  Abigail beamed at him and they moved to the dance floor. Indeed, they looked handsome together. Perhaps it was the way they gazed at each other that made them appear to be such a good match. Their love was obvious, even to those who did not know their story.

  I stood back against the wall and watched them. I had not seen Abigail smile with such sincerity since we were young. Jack looked at her as though he would do anything to make her happy, and my heart ached for them. This was most likely the last time they would ever be in each other's arms.

  Greer walked over to me, having to turn down several offers for a dance as he maneuvered through the crowd.

  “Dance with me,” he said, as he swept me into his arms. His touch seemed to make me tingle, and even the way he moved fascinated me. His steps were strong and powerful, but fluid.

  “What happened with Gillis?”

  He grinned down at me, his white teeth were gleaming and his eyes sparkling, “I have a feeling that he will be a lot kinder to Abigail from now on.”

  I looked over at the two young lovers and then back at my own love, “They are breaking my heart.”

  “Remember, this was their choice. Neither was willing to stand up for their love Aislin.”

  I knew he was right, but it was still horrible to witness.

  “Thank you for helping her.”

  He brushed my cheek with his thumb and wiped away a tear that had worked its way from my eye.

  “Why was Gillis speaking so badly about Spain?” I inquired.

  “He was trying to place doubt in your father's mind about us. That is why I let him know that I was aware of his past. It threatened him.”

  “Do you think it worked?” I asked, as we swept around the dance floor.

  “He is now aware that I can place an inquiry about him. You see, if any whispers of piracy come to the surface he would be completely ruined. I wanted him to know that I was aware of his nature and was ready for any misconduct that he had planned for this evening. I suppose this is what he and Zachariah were conspiring over at the tavern. It makes perfect sense that Zachariah would not take the direct approach and face me like a man of honor.”

  My encounter with Zachariah from earlier in the evening pre
ssed to the forefront of my mind and I knew I had to warn Greer, “There must be more to this Greer. Zachariah to tried corner . . . ” I began, but Abigail interrupted my sentence and she asked if she could dance with Greer, pushing me aside.

  I stammered backward to retreat from the dance floor, but a hand gripped tightly on my waist and restricted me from moving any further.

  Exacerbated, I abruptly turned around, “Zachariah will you please leave me alo . . . ” but I did not finish my sentence.

  We were eye to eye, the room started spinning as he started dancing, pulling me along with him, spinning me at such speeds that I became disoriented.

  I tried to loosen his grip and pry myself out of his arms, but to no avail. Searing pain coursed through my body and I felt an invisible hand gripping my throat, slowly squeezing it. I could not breathe.

  “Hello Aislin,” Lamont said in a gruff, triumphant voice, “I told you that you could not escape me.”

  I could not respond, the pain was too great. I spun my head around to see my mother doubled over in agony, my father kneeling next her, pleading with her to tell him what was wrong.

  We spun faster now. I felt as though my head was going to explode from the pain. I looked for Greer, but could not see him.

  “You know, you have been a thorn in my side. Sending me on one wild chase after another, forcing me to kill poor helpless little girls simply because you were too selfish to hand yourself over to me. But that is fine. Your little games have just given me time to think about how I really wanted to extinguish your worthless life. Now I know exactly how I plan to kill you. It will not be as swift as it was for the little girls or the Indian, oh no. First I think I'll take your mother, and then perhaps your sweet slave grandmother.”

  My eyes widened in horror as I struggled to catch my breath.

  “Oh yes Aislin, I know all about your family and if you think that any of you are more powerful then me, well . . . just look around.”

  At that moment, I felt my head forcefully spun to the right and saw Martha on the floor.

  “So sad, isn't it? To see all those you love in such a state of torment?” he sneered, “After a long time deliberating, I have finally decided. I will let you live just long enough to see all those you love perish, and then I will have you publically executed as a witch. A proper hanging would be nice, or perhaps burning at the stake would better suit you? I have always preferred the fires, but these days that technique is not considered civilized. Still, I'll see what I can do about that.”

  I tried to will another dancer to push into him, or for a platter to hit him in the head, but nothing happened. An unseen force was constricting my throat and my strength was dwindling.

  Around and around we spun. Chaos was everywhere. The music picked up tempo to an unnatural speed and was blaring at a deafening volume. The dancers were moving erratically, and things became fuzzy as I began to lose consciousness.

  I could not look at him any more. My head slumped forward and my vision was about to fail me, when in my last fleeting moments of sight, I happened to look at his neck. There on his collar was an amulet. It was a dark, red stone, very much like mine.

  I reached for it and he recoiled, but I lurched forward and clutched it. I recalled the vision I had of my necklace in Zachariah's hands, and I knew what to do. I slammed it to the floor and it shattered like glass.

  I saw Martha stand again. Lamont looked shocked by my calculation, but he reached forward and clasped me by the throat and then took a deep breath, WITC—” he started to scream.

  However, his voice was drowned out by someone else's cries. One woman screamed, followed by the cries of many others, until panic filled the ballroom.

  “Dead! He's dead!” the woman wailed.

  The band stopped playing and people starting running toward the front door, where the woman stood pointing to the entranceway. Lamont lost his grip on me as the stampede overcame us.

  I felt a hand on my arm. Greer picked me up and began carrying me away from where all the onlookers were headed. We swiftly moved through the kitchen and out the back door. In an instant, we reached the back porch and stopped. He placed me down on the steps and put his hands on my shoulders, searching my eyes, “Aislin, are you hurt?”

  My head throbbed and my throat hurt, but before I could respond to his question, I heard a strange popping noise.

  Greer's expression changed, he gasped and then looked down to his stomach. I followed his eyes downward and there, between us was a blade.

  I looked down at the silver object that came from Greer's stomach and then I looked up and studied his face. His expression was frozen with shock and pain. The blade then receded and Greer lurched forward into my arms. I felt the warm, sticky, sensation of blood on my hands and gown.

  Behind Greer stood Zachariah, a cutlass in his hand, he kicked Greer in the back, forcing us both to the ground.

  “Greer!” I screamed.

  He was unresponsive. His eyes were open, but he did not seem to hear me or see me.

  “Did I not warn you to dance with no one but me?” Zachariah snickered, as he circled around us.

  I rolled Greer to the side and knelt over his body, determined to protect him from Zachariah.

  “Greer! Please, please don't leave me!” I sobbed.

  His body lay motionless. I placed my hand upon his throat and searched for a trace of life, but there was none to be found. My mind struggled to make sense of this madness. Only moments before we were together, happy, laughing—and now he was dead.

  I could hear Zachariah walking around us, his feet thudding clumsily on the hard winter ground.

  “It isn’t nice when people take away what you want, is it Aislin?” his voice oozed with condensation.

  “Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?” I said through my sobs. “I have nothing to live for now . . . you have won. You have taken everything from me.”

  The boy threw his head back triumphantly, flicking his hair from his eyes, “Oh no, I have other plans for you. By the end of this night, your request for me to take your life will be granted…but I’ll take everything else from you first,” he rushed forward, reaching out with his sword as he approached.”

  Greer remained lifeless in my blood-drenched arms. I had enough. Magic surged through me and anger strengthened me. I did not want to live, but I would not let Greer go without justice. I inhaled deeply and muttered a spell under my breath. Great power coursed through my body and rushed toward Zachariah. The invisible force lifted him from his feet and slammed him backward against the wall of the mansion.

  The power from the spell made my head throb and I felt as though a dagger had hit me between my eyebrows. I slumped down in pain.

  Surprise and terror spread across his face, “Witch!” he screeched at me, his eyes wild.

  I nodded in reply. Let him be afraid of me, I thought as I swiftly used my magic to hurl his body through the air and slam him hard against the wall of the shed next to the mansion. His body slumped down. He seemed to be, at the very least, unconscious.

  I returned my attention to Greer. I turned him over so his head was in my lap and I stroked his face, “My love? Are you with me?” I asked in a shaky voice. He did not respond. I sobbed deeply as I stroked his hair and brushed the strands from his eyes.

  My hands shook violently as I caressed his face. He was pale and cold. Every dream that I had longed for, all the hope that had sustained me through these past months, died away. Emptiness filled my soul as I watched my beloved fade into darkness.

  I should have paid more attention to Zachariah. I was weeping so loudly that I did not notice that he had snuck up behind me.

  I felt the tip of his blade upon my back. I looked one more time at Greer. He was dead and he was not coming back. I had nothing left to live for. I closed my eyes as reality gripped me. I knew what I had to do. I could save everyone else that I loved by this one act. I turned swiftly and pulled the blade towards me.

&nb
sp; As I lurched forward, I felt another force pull the blade away from me. I looked up to see Greer holding Zachariah in the air. He had the boy's head wrenched back with one hand. Zachariah's deeds had finally come full circle against him. He groaned and thrashed as Greer fed upon him. I watched in shock, as I had never seen Greer feed before.

  When Greer finished, he dropped Zachariah's lifeless body to the ground and staggered towards me. His eyes were as black as the night that surrounded us.

  I stayed still on the ground, quivering as I tried to form a sentence. Stunned by all that transpired, I was immovable and speechless.

  “They are coming,” he growled, blood still trickling off his lower lip.

  He lifted me with one arm and leaped high, pulling us up into a tall evergreen that hung over where Zachariah's body now lay motionless.

  He kept one hand over my mouth and the other gripped so tight on my waist that I thought my ribs would crack.

  His breath came in low growls, while mine were sharp and fast. I took both my hands and wrapped them around his arm until I was clutching his wrist. He had not changed back to my Greer yet. He was still the dark eyed creature that had killed Zachariah. I did not know what would happen next.

  We watched as two people came across the boy's corpse below.

  “No!” a high-pitched voice screamed. “My baby! My son!” she yelled into the darkness of night.

  Mrs. Marthaler threw herself over his body and screamed into his chest. The other person paced back and forth, occasionally looking at the woman.

  “This is your fault!” she bellowed at the man.

  He halted and faced her, “Mine?” Lamont responded in an offended voice.

  “You incompetent bastard! How many times did I hand her to you? I sent her to a port far from the town so you could kidnap her by the roadside. I arranged for her to walk back to town through the forest at night with only a female servant as a guardian . . . I even pointed out her house to you! I could have killed her myself by now,” she hollered at him.

  “She is a powerful witch. I wish you luck trying to get close enough to touch her,” he growled back.

  “The deal is off,” she replied.