Elemental

by Debbie Kump

  Instead, I smoothed my hands over the tight jeans and studied myself in the mirror, scanning my body from head to toe.

  Sully said I looked great. He called me hot and gorgeous. Micah would never say those things.

  A small grin made its way across my face. “Thanks, Sully. And thanks for helping me out. That’s sweet of you.” I looked up at him with genuine gratitude.

  “Never a problem,” he replied and turned to face me. His pale blue eyes held mine for a long moment. Until then, I hadn’t realized just how much his eyes resembled the color of the sea. Not bright and bold like Hydros’s wickedly deep blue ones, but placid and soothing, like on a calm, sunny day. I blinked to rid Hydros from my thoughts and stared into his eyes, glad to feel safe again. Happy, even.

  Though I realized Sully still held my hand, I didn’t pull away. It felt so warm and comforting. In fact, everything felt normal for a change.

  So when he lifted one hand toward my face to caress my cheek, I let him. I closed my eyes, feeling the soft touch of his fingers gliding across my skin, the soothing heat of his palm resting against the back of my neck, and the brush of his breath against my mouth as he slowly pulled me toward him.

  And when his lips met mine, I didn’t step away. Because, like everything else, I wanted to feel normal…and loved.

  His lips touched mine hesitantly at first, waiting for a sign to proceed. So I kissed him back softly, tenderly. My lips broke from his momentarily and then rejoined, eager to reunite once more.

  But this small, sweet kiss didn’t last long.

  Before I had time to think if my actions might jeopardize his relationship with Micah (or mine), I kissed Sully back with greater intensity. A flood of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I pressed my lips to his with heightened passion. My fingers skimmed through his short hair, accidentally knocking his cap to the floor, but he didn’t seem to mind. He wrapped his arms tightly around my back, drawing me closer to the warmth of his core.

  Sully’s hands made their way down my back and settled on my waist. His tongue explored the recesses of my mouth, touching, twisting, entwining with mine. Pulling me toward him, he strode backward while we kissed, one step after another, until eventually we tumbled onto his bed.

  As remarkable as it felt to have someone love me again, I couldn’t help but flash back to the only other time I shared a kiss like this.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Salem Village, Massachusetts Bay Colony, June 8, 1692

  Under the cover of darkness, I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder before I stole behind a one-room log cabin. Pulling my cloak tighter around me, I shivered more out of fear than from the chill in the air on this early summer night. I knocked softly at the back door of the cabin, afraid to wake the children or alert anyone to my presence. When no one responded, I cracked open the door and slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind me. The hearth long extinguished, I used only the scant light of the crescent moon that filtered through the thick, glass windows to navigate my way across the Spartan room. With his straight brown hair spilling into his face, William Mills had fallen sound asleep at the table while awaiting my return.

  Dressed in the same ragged cotton shirt and dirty woolen pants with suspenders he’d worn all week, William might have been two years my elder but appeared considerably older. And rightfully so. His mother died while delivering her stillbirth baby boy nearly a year ago, leaving his father grief-stricken. Even before the elder Mills succumbed to smallpox this past winter, William had taken over much of the responsibility of raising his three younger siblings, Clarissa, Beatrice, and Thomas. Though William would never admit it, I believe he secretly felt grateful the baby didn’t survive—he’d only have been another mouth to feed. While William spent early mornings in the field, tending to their crops, his nine-year-old sister, Clarissa, cared for the two younger ones and readied them for school, but it never seemed enough. Even with all her tasks to complete, little Clarissa, wise beyond her years, insisted on teaching me to read by candlelight. Neither one ever muttered a complaint but deep down I knew they had more responsibilities than they deserved.

  Still, William somehow managed to find time for me. Perhaps he hoped to one day take me as his wife and alleviate his burdens. In my heart, I knew he loved me, but I doubted affection sat foremost in his mind. William truly needed another soul to share his growing workload. So I did what I could to help. Besides, it provided a good excuse to see him every day.

  But he’d never call me his wife. Especially not since Hydros arrived in Salem a day ago. She was the sole reason I must now hastily depart from the life I’d known these past six months.

  I tiptoed across the hard earthen floor, laying a hand upon his shoulder. “William,” I whispered in his ear. “It’s time.”

  “Jordan? Is that you? But I…I didn’t think you’d still come.” His voice sounded groggy, filled with perpetual exhaustion. I felt awful for waking him; he rarely got a decent night’s sleep. It was selfish of me to stop here, just to say good-bye.

  “Shhh…” I pressed a finger to his lips, my voice a strained whisper. “I don’t have much time.”

  “Don’t go. Please,” he implored, his body unusually clumsy and drugged with sleep. He staggered from the table. Wobbling once, he reached for my hand to clasp between his. “I’ll protect you.”

  I detected an earnest tone to his voice, a fierce conviction that he wouldn’t let harm befall me.

  I wanted to believe him, and I felt desperate to hold him, to experience the warmth of his arms around me one last time and his tender lips pressed against mine. But I couldn’t. I didn’t have much time.

  I pulled my hand away. “You don’t understand how strong she’s become. If I don’t leave now…” I was unable to verbalize the truth. Once Hydros captured me for good, no one would stop them.

  No one.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. This seemed far harder than I imagined. I berated myself for swinging past his home on my way out of town.

  “Listen, Jordan,” he said, rising from the table. “I need you. Promise me you’ll stay.”

  I wanted to. I’d love to. And I merely needed to reply with a small, simple “yes” to satisfy this desire. Why did Hydros have to ruin everything I’d worked so hard to achieve?

  My eyes found the floor. “I can’t,” I mumbled. The words stuck inside my throat. William had no idea of the dangers that lurked with every passing minute. Leave now, Jordan, I reminded myself, before she finds you…and him.

  William placed both hands behind my head, forcing me to meet his gaze. His deep brown eyes held mine with desperation. “I love you, Jordan. I do.”

  “Oh, God, William. Don’t do this to me,” I begged. It was hard enough to leave without his profession of love, something he hadn’t declared until now.

  “Please,” he implored, “say that you will.”

  Swallowing hard, I managed, “Will what?’

  A soft smile filled his face. “Marry me.”

  I shook my head as tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to explain everything to him, but I couldn’t. I knew I should at least answer his question, but I wouldn’t. Agreeing might mean imminent destruction for his entire family. And declining would leave him wondering if I truly loved him in return. Because I did. The only power I possessed to demonstrate that love was to actually leave the premises.

  Now.

  My eyes filled with sorrow as I pulled the hood of my traveling cloak over my head and turned for the door. I reached for the handle, when I felt his hand slip inside my palm, wheeling me to face him. A gasp of surprise escaped my mouth. Before I could speak, his lips met mine. For a brief instant, the fear and panic of Hydros finding me evaporated. Against my better judgment, I relented, allowing him to shape my mouth to his will. My arms sought his body, clutching him tightly to mine, a buffer from the fear and uncertainty that surrounded me. He kissed me longer and deeper. Every part of me that screamed to escape grew silent. For what seemed
an eternity, just the two of us existed in this time and space. Nothing else mattered.

  But love has a funny way of deluding me and dulling my senses with its euphoric bliss—so much that I neglected to hear the footsteps that approached outside.

  Suddenly the front door to the Mills household slammed open with a resounding bang. William immediately separated from my embrace. He stepped in front of me in a protective stance to shield me from the multitude of fierce eyes that trained on my face, ready for my demise.

  I knew with the manic fear of witches running rampant throughout Salem Village, it didn’t take much to rally the townspeople. Still, the numbers Hydros gathered in support startled me—including faces of those I had trusted and considered friends since my arrival.

  My eyes darted around the room I knew so well, searching for something to aid in our escape. I thought of shooting flames from my hands as a diversion but what good would that achieve? I’d end up torching the entire place, leaving William and his siblings without a home. Despite the initial confusion, the crowd would quickly track us down, even if we could get the slumbering kids out in time. Plus, who knew what punishment he’d face for conspiracy to witchcraft?

  No. Bide your time, Jordan. I took a deep breath to calm my shattered nerves. My brain calculated another avenue when Hydros entered the room.

  “There,” she declared, pointing a long index finger in my direction. “That’s Jordan Young.”

  I’d had many different surnames in the past, usually choosing a commonplace that sounded discreet after every jump through time. It didn’t matter much to me what I selected. Anything was better than Pyr. So when I arrived in Salem, “Young” seemed like a good fit, but now it sounded entirely wrong, like it bore a sentence to death.

  Two men bound my wrists behind my back. I knew I shouldn’t fight as it would only make things worse.

  “That one, too,” Hydros commanded, nodding her head in William’s direction.

  A confused look passed over William’s face. Two others reached for his wrists and lashed them behind his back.

  All complacency left my body in an instant. “Let him be. He’s done nothing wrong. It’s me you want.”

  “It is,” Hydros agreed, her lips turning up in a wicked grin. Her intense blue eyes gauged me with scorn. “But I think I’ll keep him a little longer.” Her long, evil fingers traced the length of his jawbone.

  William lunged at her in defiance, but his captors restrained him.

  Hydros’s eyes gleamed maliciously. She added, “He might prove…useful.”

  They pushed us out the front door. I feared for little Clarissa Mills when she discovered her brother missing in the morning. I knew she possessed the strength to manage for a day until we resolved this whole mess. Then I’d leave the village and William could return home. Besides, it wouldn’t be long before he found another suitable girl to call his wife.

  Still, anguish seized my heart at the thought of him finding true happiness with someone else.

  It’s the only way, Jordan. It’s always the only way. I would never have a normal life or a normal future. Never.

  I spent a long night locked in a cold cell adjacent to William, unable to speak to him, unable to explain. I wondered how I let myself get into this predicament.

  Worse, how I got him involved as well.

  I knew I should sleep. I’d need my strength and sharp wits to save William but the strain of anticipation proved too great to endure. What would she do to me? Would I withstand her torment another time?

  A few hours after daybreak, the guards arrived. I stood, ready to meet my fate. Instead, they unlocked William’s cell and led him down the narrow hall.

  Before long, I heard his cry pierce the eerie stillness of the jailhouse. In an instant, I realized her plan. Hydros chose to torture him instead of me, hoping to break my spirit.

  Well, it wouldn’t work.

  “Release him!” I shouted and leapt to my feet. I shook the bars of my cell door. “He’s innocent.”

  “Silence,” a burly guard spat.

  “Please! You must believe me,” I implored. “He’s done nothing wrong!”

  By the look on the guard’s face, I could tell he didn’t approve of my outburst. Gruffly, he stalked over to my cell, raised his club high over his head, and whacked it on my door.

  Luckily, I jumped backward in time to avoid him crushing my fingers. My hands created fire, my only defense. I couldn’t risk injuring them when they were my last opportunity to save William.

  You’ll have your chance, I reminded myself and silently sank upon the filthy, bug-ridden mattress in my cell.

  All day long I waited, listening to William’s cries grow weaker and weaker. My guards passed by periodically but never once offered me a thing to eat or drink. My head spun, weak with deliria and dehydration, weary from lack of sleep.

  And fearful of what had become of William.

  The next morning, sunlight filled my cell, but I still hadn’t seen or heard William return. Did Hydros torture him to gain information? If so, her actions seemed pointless since I told him nothing of value to her. Or did she torment him to the point of death? I bit my lip, thinking about the poor Mills kids, first orphaned and now abandoned—all because of me.

  Later that morning, two guards unlocked my door and ushered me from my cell. I craned my neck, hoping for a glimpse of William when they guided me down the hall to the courtroom. Only his cell stood vacant. I prayed to God he remained alive.

  The guards pushed me into the crowded courtroom, leading me past jeering citizens, eager for the judge’s verdict. I looked across the crowd and recognized a few faces—Reverend Stephen Billings, the old widow Millie Parish, and the cuckold Gabriel Stern who looked on with pity.

  Unfortunately, there was no sign of William.

  Chief Justice Stockton and his court of magistrates and jurors stood at the far end of the courtroom, imposing in their long black robes. One of the jurors, Samuel Cornwall, the village blacksmith, peered down his hawkish nose at me with scrutiny and scorn.

  “Bring forth the afflicted,” Chief Justice Stockton called.

  Hydros led in a girl, perhaps four years my junior, by the name of Amy Charles. I didn’t know her personally but I recognized her. She was the niece of Eli Charles, the doctor who made a house call to William’s father when he first contracted smallpox.

  Amy looked up at Hydros with trepidation then walked down the courtroom aisle. Hydros raised one hand to silence the crowd and flashed Amy a cunning smile before presenting the girl to the court. Having been here such a short time, the amount of power Hydros wielded in this small community amazed me. Then again, fear acted as a powerful motivator. And Hydros possessed quite the proficiency of generating fear in others.

  “Doctor Charles hath recently diagnosed his young niece, Amy, with a case of bewitchment,” Hydros bellowed for all to hear. “As is customary in the court, Amy will now identify the source of her affliction.”

  I rolled my eyes. Amy looked completely healthy, if you asked me. I wondered what bribe Hydros offered her family in exchange for this act of betrayal. Food? Firewood? It seemed so menial a reward to exchange for a person’s life.

  Then Hydros nodded her head—an understanding to proceed.

  Amy stood still for a moment before her eyes rolled back into her skull. She dropped to the floor, kicking and thrashing madly in front of the entire courtroom. Her hair spilled onto the ground like slithering snakes and she rolled wildly.

  Several witnesses gasped in shock and horror at the abnormal behavior of the niece of such a prominent citizen. Hushed accusations floated through the crowd. “It is obvious she hath been bewitched by someone, but who?” The witnesses, magistrates, and jurors perched on the edge of their benches. Their ears strained to hear the name cried of the accused.

  “Her spirit enters my room at night,” Amy wailed. Her body continued to thrash upon the courtroom floor. “It pinches me and torments me and bites m
e. Make it stop. Make it stop!” She displayed a fresh bite mark across her forearm, one she likely had inflicted upon herself for effect.

  A few startled gasps carried through the audience. The low din of frightened whispers rose in alarm.

  I had to admit, Amy put on a good show. Especially when I suspected how Hydros arranged for this to end.

  Hydros hovered over Amy’s unruly body. She placed one hand upon the girl’s shoulder to silence her motions. “Who hath committed such atrocious crimes? Sayeth her name, young girl, loud enough for all the court to hear.”

  Amy rose to her knees and ran one hand through her tangled hair, then peered into the crowd. Then she turned toward me. Her accusing finger trembled as she pointed, “It is her. Jordan Young.”

  The back of my neck prickled at the sound of my name. Meanwhile, the courtroom filled with the commotion of a multitude of voices that whispered animatedly at once.

  Hydros released Amy’s shoulder, a sly grin spreading across her lips. She stepped up to the stand. “Admit it,” her voice rang clear through the crowded courthouse, silencing the crowd with the fear she instilled. Her bold blue eyes bore into my skull. “You are a witch.”

  “I am not!” I screamed in protest, though I knew nothing I said would sway the crowd after Amy’s accusation. They came here for a hanging and a hanging they would get.

  Before I could utter another word in my defense, Chief Justice Stockton leaned toward his magistrates and jurors who nodded their heads in unison. He turned back to the crowd, announcing, “The court finds Jordan Young guilty of witchcraft. Her sentence shall be carried forth immediately.”

  Two guards grabbed each of my arms and brusquely led me out the double doors of the courtroom and up the nearby Gallows Hill with the crowd at our heels. Compared to the cool night of my capture, the day’s bright noon sun felt insufferably hot. While the guards bound my hands behind my back and draped a noose around my neck, I scanned the crowd, still searching for William. Where could he be?