by Sarah Biglow
“You do not wish to place your blood in more danger and yet I am afraid it is what awaits you.” She began to walk away and as she went the sky turned dark in her wake. An oncoming storm.
“Wait. What do you mean?” I called. I attempted to follow, but my legs were bound up in thick roots that had appeared from nowhere.
She turned to look back at me and a tear slipped down her cheek. “You will understand when the time comes. On the eve of your death all will be made known.”
MORNING CAME AND I startled awake at the sound of the door to the jail grinding open. I groaned as stiffness spread from my neck down to my shoulders. I tried to ignore the discomfort as I stood. The same man who had brought food the night before appeared. I smoothed wrinkles from my skirts to make myself presentable. He ignored me. Instead, he marched to the other cell and flung the door open. The young woman cowered from his touch, but he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her from the confines of the cell. Surely, she would be left with bruises for the rough way our jailer handled her. I said a silent prayer that whoever had accused her was wrong and she would be found not guilty. I had not sensed any magic from her in our brief time together so there was a sliver of hope.
As they passed by, the jailer looked at me with a smirk and said, “You’re next, witch.”
I kept my expression neutral and said nothing. I would not give him the satisfaction of a response. The other woman began screaming as soon as she was out in daylight. I heard a third set of footsteps on the hard packed dirt floor and the door did not shut as I’d expected.
I waited with my hands held primly against my torso until the newcomer made their presence known. The footfalls stopped just short of my cell. I wanted to call out to them but feared the result. Finally, a familiar figure came into view. My husband stood before me, eyes red-rimmed from tears he had likely shed in privacy.
“You should not have come,” I chided.
“And I wish we had not gone. You knew it was a trap.”
“I could not let a child die. Even one whose father bears the Order’s brand.”
“You are here because of me,” he said, gaze cast downward.
I reached through the bars and took hold of his hands. “I am in here because I chose to use my magic to aid a child who is too young to understand the consequences of his actions and because I was careless.” The metal of the pendant felt suddenly chill against my skin and I could not hide a shiver as it ran down my spine. Quickly, I pulled the chain from around my neck and pressed it into his hand. “Keep this safe for me.”
He slipped it into his pocket and reached through the bars to stroke my cheek. “I do not want to lose my wife. I do not want to raise my children without their mother.”
I squeezed his hands tight. “Nor do I, but I must accept my fate. I never told you, but I have foreseen my death at the hands of our enemies.”
“I refuse to let them win.”
The woman in my dream came back to me as did her promise that all would be made clear upon my death. “They will not win in the end. Not with you and our friends fighting against them. Not if you teach our children about their birthright.”
Our conversation was cut short by the return of my jailer and another man’s voice I did not recognize. “You must go,” I urged Jacob.
He kissed my hands before letting them go and disappearing from view. I did not know if the jail had a second entrance. I prayed my husband was not caught. We could not risk him being jailed and our children being orphaned. Given that no shouts arose, I hoped he had made a clean escape. The jailer appeared.
‘Your turn, you filthy witch.”
“Surely that isn’t right,” I protested. Even the reverend had made clear I would be held for some time.
“They want to make an example of you,” he sneered and unlocked the cell.
I did not give him the chance to touch me. Rather, I stepped out of my own accord, head held high. He and another man I did not know flanked me and together we walked to the town hall. More people than I’d expected were crammed into the room, eager to hear the latest accusations against a witch. Reverend Leominster and his son sat at the front of the room. I was led to the other side of the room and made to stand.
The local magistrate cleared his throat and motioned for Matthew to step forward. He glanced at his father before moving to sit on a roughhewn wooden chair beside the magistrate.
“Now, young man, tell me why you have accused this woman of witchcraft.”
Matthew fidgeted in the chair or perhaps it was under his father’s sharp gaze. Finally, he said, “She has the mark.” It was barely above a whisper.
“Speak up, young man,” the magistrate prompted.
“She has the mark. Around her neck. And she made wind and grabbed me without touching me.”
Gasps from the crowd echoed in the room at his recounting. His words were true and yet it sounded as if he were lying.
“And then she told me that the devil wanted to take me and she was going to give me to him. I felt strange. I couldn’t move.”
Ah yes, there were the outright lies.
The magistrate nodded his head and dismissed the boy. I waited for the reverend to speak out against me, to add weight to his son’s story, but he remained seated. The magistrate instead turned to me. “Show me your mark,” he demanded.
“I bear no such mark,” I said.
“She lies!” Reverend Leominster shouted, pointing a finger at my chest. “I saw it myself just last night.”
“So did I,” another voice called out.
“Silence!” the magistrate boomed.
“You say you bear no mark. Then tell me, how do you answer for your crimes?”
“I never intended harm to that child. He would have perished if I had not acted. I am only sorry he cannot see that what I did was for the greater good. I do not serve the devil or evil.”
“If you name your co-conspirators your sentence may be lessened,” he said.
“I acted of my own volition. No other person was involved.”
The magistrate rubbed at his chin and turned his gaze from me. I held my breath while he deliberated. Finally, he clapped his hands for attention.
“Eleanor Pruitt, I hereby find you guilty of the crime of witchcraft. You shall be punished with death by hanging.”
A cry went up from the crowd and I looked to see Theodora crumple against my husband. Mercifully, the children had been kept home. Jacob would need to explain what had happened, but it was better they did not see their neighbors turn on our family.
“You will be remanded to the jailer’s custody until your sentence is carried out,” the magistrate said.
The jailer appeared and led me back to my cell. As he slammed the door closed, heat prickled the nape of my neck. My eyes became unfocused and I could hear the woman from my dream whispering in the back of my thoughts. Telling me it was time. My vision righted itself to reveal Jacob and Theodora standing before me. Mounting tension tightened my shoulders.
Theodora was first to reach me. She clasped her hands around mine. “I am so sorry. I wish I could do something,” she said through tears.
“Hush now. Nothing was your fault and nothing you could have done would have changed my fate. It is my time.”
“I do not know what I will do without my big sister,” she wept.
“You will thrive. You have much yet to do in your life.”
Jacob opened his mouth to speak but stopped abruptly. My vision blurred and the heat overwhelmed my body. There was no sense in fighting what I was about to see. Instead of merely seeing what was to come, words poured from my mouth. “When the world is balanced anew and fire rains down as midday turns to night, the last daughter of Harrow’s blood shall rise to stand against the Old Guard’s return.”
The voice that came forth was not my own, it belonged to the woman I’d dreamt of. And for a moment the cell disappeared and I found myself looking at a young woman with fierce green eyes and short, ru
sset locks. She shimmered as if she were a mirage, momentarily replaced by Theodora. This young woman yet to be born had some of Theodora’s spirit within her as well as her blood. She was the last daughter of our bloodline. She would be raised to keep the world safe from the darkness the Order wished to spread. The hope for our future dimmed but not before I spied myself as an apparition at her side.
“Eleanor?” My sister’s voice pulled me from the vision.
The power that had overtaken me fled and I slumped against the bars, physically exhausted. I had never had a vision take so much out of me. As promised, things were made much clearer. I had to come to this point to make this prophecy. Magic had chosen me to be the bearer of these words and my sister’s descendant would fight for the survival of magic. Jealousy lanced through my chest for a moment that my little sister’s line would be the one to save the world and all I had been was the messenger. I could not change things now, but perhaps I could mislead our enemies.
“It means you both must protect our family. They will be looking for the Savior now.”
Theodora tilted her head in an inquisitive gesture. “But they do not know what you have just spoken.”
I shook my head. “You know better, Sister. They have spies everywhere. Do not assume they have not already reported what has been said here this day. But you must swear to me to keep the children safe.”
“I swear it,” Jacob answered.
“I have no children,” Theodora said.
“You will.” I turned to Jacob and held out my hand. “The pendant, give it to me.”
He passed it through the bars and I held it between my fingers. I closed my eyes and poured a tiny piece of my magic into the stone at its heart. The metal pulsed from cool to white hot and back again as it accepted the gift I gave it. This tiny piece would one day guide and protect the Savior.
“When you do have a daughter, give her this. Ensure that she passes it to her children and so on. It will protect you.” I pushed it into her hand.
“But what about James and Bethany?”
“They have their father’s magic to keep them safe,” I said. My vision blurred again and I could see an angry mob all marred by the Order’s mark on their way. “Now, both of you must go. My time is nearly here.”
“But they will not execute you now,” Theodora protested.
“The Order comes now. You must go.”
Before they could make their exit, the jail door burst open and the mob I had seen led by Reverend Leominster poured in. Jacob wrapped his arms around Theodora as the jailer sneered at me and threw the door open. Many hands grabbed at me, dragging me out into the bright midday light. Someone bound my hands behind my back as they led me through town to the hangman’s noose. My visions had not been wrong before. I had to believe that our bloodline would live to fulfill their destiny.
About the Author
Sarah lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She is a licensed attorney and spends her days combatting employment discrimination as an Investigator with the Massachusetts Commission Against Discrimination.She is a self-professed TV junkie and in her spare time (what’s that?), she runs a TV recap blog with her best friend, Jen.You can connect with Sarah at her website: www.sarah-biglow.com, follow her on Twitter @SBiglowWrites and on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/SarahBiglowAuthorFor those TV-obsessed souls, you can head on over to the recap blog: www.more-tv-please.com. You can also follow the blog on Twitter @MoreTVPlease and check it out on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MoreTVPlease.
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