by Roger Hayden
Parris’s flames raged once more. Abandoning the pentagrams, the fire funneled around Parris instead, encasing him within its blaze. With a terrible scream, Parris began to burn away, his very being perishing before my eyes. Then, as the last of Parris’s body fell prey to the flames, the inferno burned like the sun for one more moment before extinguishing completely.
My arms fell back down to my sides. I swayed, steadying myself against the yew tree. Light returned to Yew Hollow, the pink hues of sunrise peeking up over the horizon. My mother and sisters stood with the coven, reeling in the leftover craft racing through the air. Wren was still unconscious but seemed unharmed except for the gash in his arm and the bruise on his temple. The townspeople stood about in shock, mesmerized by the entire event. Across the square, I caught Leigh’s eye. She smiled at me. I nodded back. And then I fainted.
Chapter Nine
In Which Yew Hollow Becomes Home
For the second time in a matter of hours, I awoke to find Leigh hovering over me. I lay in my own twin bed, staring up at the ceiling of my attic bedroom on the third floor of the Summers house. Midmorning light streamed in from the window, passing through Leigh’s ethereal face.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I said to Leigh. My voice was hoarse. The events of the previous evening had taken its toll on my body.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m dead,” I groaned, attempting to roll over to one side. To be honest, I felt kind of dead. I was sore all over. Someone had dressed the deep gouges on my back, but that didn’t stop the wounds from stretching and cracking as I tried to sit up. Someone had also been kind enough to replace the shredded remains of my own shirt with a clean, white V-neck. “What happened?”
“You passed out,” Leigh said, keeping a watchful eye on me as I propped myself up against the pillows. “We brought you back here to take care of you.”
“No, what happened at the square?” I clarified. “The townspeople?”
“Everyone’s fine,” she said. She smoothed out a few lumps in the duvet. “A little shaken up, maybe. They’re all waiting to thank you for saving the town. The police, too. You should have seen them groveling in front of Cassandra. I don’t think the coven has to worry about getting kicked out of Yew Hollow anytime soon.”
“Where is everyone?” I asked, aware of how quiet and peaceful the house was. The Summers house was never quiet.
“Banishing Wren.”
“What?”
I kicked the duvet off, ignoring the pain in my back as I pulled on a pair of boots. I hobbled out of the room, determined to reach Wren before the coven had its way with him. Leigh called out after me.
“Morgan, wait!”
“Why?” I asked, thundering down the staircase.
“You’re not even wearing pants!”
After I donned pair of jeans and a jacket, Leigh allowed me to leave the house. As I swung open the screen door and surveyed the situation from the back porch, I could see that the coven had gathered in its entirety in the backyard. They formed a wide circle around Wren, who stood alone, his arm and head bandaged, with a bloated backpack slung over his uninjured shoulder. My mother occupied the space nearest to Wren, my sisters close behind. My mother’s voice drifted out toward me.
“You shall not return,” Cassandra was saying. “You shall not contact any member of the Summers coven. You shall not claim the Summers name...”
She was reading Wren the parameters of his banishment. I abandoned the porch, shoving my way through the throng of witches until I reached Wren. I stepped in front of him.
My mother sighed dramatically. “Morgan, you couldn’t have stayed asleep for another five minutes or so?”
“This is wrong,” I said. “Parris used Wren.”
Karma stepped forward from her place beside our mother. “Morgan, he killed Leigh,” she said. “He was in his right mind. He had a choice, and he chose to betray our family.”
“But—”
“Morgan,” Wren said from behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face him. “I can accept the consequences of my actions. After all, they could’ve decided on a worse fate for me.”
This was true. For a witch, banishment from your own coven meant a lifetime alone, but for Wren, it was only the natural process of things. He would’ve left Yew Hollow eventually anyway. The thought didn’t stop my eyes from burning, threatening tears.
“But I’ll never get to see you again,” I said to Wren, my lower lip trembling.
He reached down to hug me. “Don’t worry,” he mumbled. “I won’t forget my favorite sister.”
It was an impossible, dichotomous feeling that washed over me then. I knew Wren had done atrocious things. I knew that he had to leave, but I didn’t want to let go of the littlest Summers sibling. Nevertheless, I detached myself from Wren and stepped back into the frame of my sisters. My mother cleared her throat.
“As I was saying,” she continued, “you shall not claim the Summers name. You are no longer a member of this family. This is not the place for you, and so you shall take your leave.”
It was an archaic speech, one that had been nearly unaltered throughout the passage of time. The banishment ritual, itself, was outdated as well. I watched as Laurel presented my mother with a small ramekin of black salt. A blend of sea salt and yew ash, the mineral was meant to ward off those who were unwelcome. Cassandra scattered it in the space between Wren and the rest of the coven. It was more symbolic than ritualistic, but I still felt a wave of energy disappear from the Summers side of the line as Wren’s aura was rejected from the property.
“May you live the life you deserve,” my mother finished, dusting the rest of the salt from her palms.
“Preferably one that doesn’t involve murder,” Laurel chimed in. Malia elbowed her in the ribs, shushing her.
Wren ducked his head, an acknowledgement of the completion of his emancipation. Then, without any kind of parting words, he turned on his heel and set off across the yard. We watched until his silhouette faded and disappeared over the crest of the hill.
With Wren gone, the coven returned their attention to me. I was caught in a swarm of gratitude as each witch of the Summers coven grasped my hands tightly or pulled me into a hug. The magnitude of my actions at the yew tree hadn’t sunk into my brain yet. I allowed the coven to dote on me, but in the back of my mind, I felt oddly guilty. I had drawn on the yew tree’s powers accidentally. My defense against Parris had been intuitive, not proactive, yet the coven heralded me as some kind of savior. I couldn’t stand it for more than a few minutes, so I politely excused myself and gestured for Leigh to follow me. As the group of witches thinned, filtering back to their own homes, Leigh and I strolled off toward the swing set.
I plopped down in one of the swings, wrapping a hand around its rusted chain. Leigh leaned against the set next to me.
“You handled that rather well,” she said, nodding toward the dispersing witches. “I’m starting to think you might not actually mind being a member of the Summers coven.”
“I don’t deserve the praise,” I admitted, squinting through the sunlight to look up at her. “I didn’t do that spell because I was trying to save Yew Hollow. I did it because I was afraid to die.”
Leigh only smiled knowingly.
“What?” I demanded.
“I don’t believe that,” she said and gazed off toward the house. “Whether you’re aware of it or not, you performed that spell instinctively to protect what’s most important to you. It wasn’t selfish. It was selfless.”
“But—”
“You aren’t Parris, Morgan,” Leigh said before I could protest. “I know you’re scared you’ll end up like him, or like Wren, but I promise you won’t be bitter and alone your whole life.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. What, you don’t believe the dead woman?” she added jokingly. “I have a whole new perspective on this kind of thing.”
I scuffed my boots
into the ground then trapped a wayward leaf beneath one foot. “Why are you still here, anyway?” I asked. “Parris is gone. You should’ve moved on.”
“I’ve been fighting it,” she said, and sure enough, when I looked back at her, she seemed to flicker like a fluorescent light bulb.
“Why?”
“I wanted to say good-bye.”
Without warning, my eyes overflowed. “Damn,” I said, wiping them with the back of my hand. “Sorry, I have a leaf or a tree in my eye.”
Her knowing smile returned. “Thank you, Morgan, for everything that you’ve done,” she said. “Thank you for coming back to Yew Hollow and for taking the time to figure out what happened to me. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
I let out a garbled laugh, no longer bothering to hide the fact that I was crying. “It’s only been a week.”
“I know.”
I stood up from the swing to face Leigh at eye level. “I wish I’d known you sooner,” I said. “Yew Hollow feels different than it used to. Not quite so… provisional. That’s your doing.”
She shook her head. “Yew Hollow feels that way because it’s your home,” she said. Then, to my great surprise, she reached out and pulled me into a warm hug. I settled into a wholly corporeal form of her, somehow solidified in her last moments on earth. I had been right about her aura. It was all pale pinks and oranges, that inexplicable blend of sunset hues unable to be captured on camera. You could only appreciate it in real life before it faded to darkness. In that moment, Leigh was utterly mortal, so I squeezed her tightly and pretended that this was only a temporary good-bye.
Too soon, she began to pale. She turned cold, and her figure sank through mine for a moment before she separated herself from me. With a mischievous smile and a wave of her fingers, she began to ebb away, deliquescing into the hazy sunlight until she disappeared entirely.
I allowed myself a few minutes to come to terms with Leigh’s final departure, staring at the place in the damp grass that she had so recently occupied. Then I looked back toward the house.
Cassandra, Malia, Karma, and Laurel stood on the porch steps. It was clear they had watched my last interaction with Leigh. I suddenly understood how Leigh had been able to hug me. My family had made it happen, combining their powers to lend strength to Leigh. I raised a hand to them in thanks.
A swift breeze blew through the yard, rustling the orange and red leaves of the surrounding trees. I tipped my head back, taking a great breath of the crisp autumn air. The sky was clear, its azure expanse stretching out beyond the Summers property. I stepped away from the swing set, across the whispering grass, toward the house.
Toward home.
