by Lyn Horner
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Preface
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
WHITE WITCH
By
Lyn Horner
PREFACE
Dear readers,
This novella introduces Jessie and Tye Devlin, stars of the first two books in my Texas Druids trilogy. Offspring of Irish immigrants, the brother and sister are descended from ancient Druids and are blessed with unique psychic powers. White Witch showcases Jessie’s clairvoyant ability and offers a story in itself, taking Jessie, Tye and their father through the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. One particularly harrowing scene from the fire, laid out in this tale, sets up events to come, leading to Jessie’s prophetic dreams, dreams that send her on a quest for love in Darlin’ Druid, the first volume of the trilogy.
I hope you enjoy the tale. – Lyn Horner
CHAPTER ONE
Chicago; August 1871
Jessie hiked up her skirts and stepped into the cool water of Lake Michigan, wading out until the gentle waves lapped at her knees. It felt wonderful on her sweaty skin. She wished she could immerse her whole body but didn’t relish walking home in sopping wet clothes.
“Jess, you’d best be careful,” her brother Tye called from a few feet away. “There could be a drop-off.”
“I know. I’ll not go any farther out. And take your own advice, brother dear.” She glanced at him enviously. Having stripped away his shirt and rolled up his pant legs, he was splashing water on his chest, not the least bit concerned about getting his trousers wet.
“Aye, I will, although I’m a fair swimmer, unlike you.” He grinned at her mischievously. “In case ye haven’t noticed, I’m not burdened by a skirt and petticoats either.”
“Humph! Go ahead and get your trousers soaked. Doubtless you’ll enjoy being ogled by every woman we pass on our way home, ye wicked devil.”
He laughed and sliced the water with the edge of his hand, sending a small geyser her way. It caught her in the face, causing her to shriek and duck away as droplets dampened the bodice of her worn gray gown.
“Don’t do that!” she scolded. “I don’t want to get all wet.” Wiping water from her eyes, she blinked several times to clear them. Once she was able to keep them open, she happened to glance into the distance across the lake . . . and froze.
The lake disappeared before her eyes, replaced by a burst of fire that soared high overhead, wringing a strangled cry from her lips. The fire turned into a hellish scene of flames leaping from building to building along a familiar street, a street filled with people running for their lives before the monstrous fire. It licked at the wooden paving block underfoot and at the walkways lining the thoroughfare.
Her view of the event shifted abruptly. Now she saw her family’s cottage going up in flames behind her as she was being whisked away.
“Nay, not our home!” she wailed without realizing she’d spoken. Then the scene changed again. Now she was looking toward the city from far across the lake, and what she saw made her scream in horror. The spell was broken. As suddenly as the vision had taken hold of her, it released her. Dizzy with shock, she lost her footing on the sandy lake bottom and tumbled face-first into the chilly water. The shock caused her to suck in water.
Choking, Jessie struggled desperately to push to her feet, but the skirts tangled around her legs held her trapped. Panic set in; her heart thundered in her chest. She was about to drown when a hand grasped her under one arm and hauled her upward. She broke the water’s surface coughing and fighting for breath.
“Thank God! Ye scared the bejaysus out of me, sis,” Tye said in a shaky voice as he held her steady, hands locked around her waist.
“I thought I was going to die,” she croaked when she could breathe again, clinging to his arms for support. “I would have if ye hadn’t pulled me up.”
“Aye, well, what are big brothers for?” He laughed, but she noticed his voice still shook. “Now tell me why I felt such a terrible burst of fear from ye just before ye screamed and toppled over.”
“Oh, Tye, I had the most horrible vision!” she said, not surprised by his comment. Her brother was a sensitive. He could feel what others were feeling, especially those close to him. She licked her quivering lips and stared into his eyes. “I saw the city burning.”
“What! Chicago ye mean?”
“Aye. There was fire everywhere. We were running for our lives.”
He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. For a moment he stood staring at her; then he grasped her arm and towed her toward the shore. “Come on, we’d better get ye home and out of those wet things. Ye must tell Da what ye saw.”
“Nay! He’ll raise the roof if I even mention having a vision. Ye know that, and besides, he’d not believe me.”
“Nevertheless, he needs to hear it. If what ye saw is true, if your gift isn’t playing ye false, we must prepare for the worst.”
* * *
Their father, Seamus Devlin, reacted exactly as Jessie had expected. First he berated her for getting soaked and walking the streets with her wet garments clinging to her, calling her a shameless hussy. Then, when she explained what had happened, stumbling over her words, with Tye urging her on, Da exploded.
“Stop! I told the both o’ ye that ye’re never to speak o’ your wicked curse, did I not? And by all that’s holy, I meant it!”
“But, Da, Jessie saw the city burning,” Tye argued.
“Nonsense! She saw nothin’ o’ kind. Now I’ll hear no more about it.”
“As hot and dry as it’s been, the city’s like tinder,” Tye persisted, following Da into the kitchen of their small cottage with Jessie trailing behind. “’Tisn’t hard to believe there could be a fire.”
Turning to face him with an impatient scowl, Da planted his fists on his broad hips. “I know that as well as yerself. There’s been more than one fire already, and the foin lads in the fire brigades have dealt with ’em splendidly. What makes ye think they can’t handle another if it comes to that?”
“Tye, ’tisn’t any use arguing,” Jessie said. “Can’t ye see?”
Rubbing a hand over his face, he glared at Da. “Aye, I see that we ought to make preparations, but our father is a stubborn old fool who won’t listen to good sense.”
“Shut yer mouth, ye insolent pup!” Da shouted. “Or I’ll shut it for ye, I will.”
“Will ye now?” Tye gritted, taking a step forward. “We’ll just see –”
“Stop it!” Jessie yelled, grabbing his arm. “ Let it be, Tye. And, Da, I truly hope you’re right. I hope my devilish vision was naught but my mind playing tricks upon me. For if it wasn’t I fear we’ll all pay a dreadful price.”
CHAPTER TWO
Late night, Sunday, October 8, 1871
Jessie lay in restless slumber. She’d retired early to escape her father’s badgering, but he never stopped even in her dreams. He was put out with her for turning away so many would-be suitors over the past few months, most of whom he’d brought home to meet her.
“I vowed to your mam before she died that I’d see ye safely wed when ye came of age,”he reminded her again in her dream. “And I mean to keep my promise.”
“Mam wouldn’t wish me to marry a man I don’t love,” she retorted.“Why can’t ye give me time to find my own mate?”
“Time, I need time,” she mumbled, vaguely aware of a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Hearing her father call her name, she rolled her head from side to side on her pillow, trying to silence his voice.
“Jessie girl, wake up!” he rumbled urgently, shaking her again, harder this time. “’Tis the fire!"
Recognizing this was no dream, she opened her eyes and blinked in confusion at t
he sight of her father’s burly figure bent over her. In one hand he held a guttering candle. “Wha? What’s that ye say?” she croaked, her voice thick with sleep. Fear began to set in as she registered his wild-eyed expression and the graying russet hair standing out at crazed angles from his head.
“’Tis the fire!” he repeated frantically. “Don’t ye recall? We heard the alarm bells after church. ’Tas jumped the river and the fool wind is blowin’ it straight for us!”
“Oh no!” Jessie gasped, terror gripping her. Was her vision of the city in flames about to come true?
“Aye! So up with ye now! Dress yerself and gather a few o’ yer things,” Da ordered as he deposited his candle on her wash stand. Rushing to the door, he paused just long enough to bark, “Be quick about it, daughter! There’s nary a moment to lose.”
“Aye, I’ll hurry.” Throwing off her covers, she was on her feet and tugging off her nightdress by the time the door slammed shut after him. She snatched her shift and a well-worn calico gown from a wall peg and hurriedly donned the garments. By now she’d heard the growing tumult of fleeing Chicagoans out in the street and was aware of a garish, unnatural light beyond her window. Heart pounding, she jammed on her high-topped shoes and fastened them with shaking hands.
She wanted to run immediately but forced herself to obey her father’s instructions. Smoothing out her blanket with a quick swipe, she tossed clothes and a few personal items onto the bed, then gathered the blanket around them. She was knotting the corners together when her father shouted to her from the parlor.
“Aye, I’m coming!” she replied, seizing her makeshift duffel and dashing to the door. For a brief instant she looked back at the familiar room, knowing she’d never see it again. Then she hurried to join her father and brother.
They were hauling a load of household goods out the front door. Jessie followed them out onto the front stoop. While the two men wrestled their burden onto the bed of the sturdy wagon they used to deliver goods after regular work hours, she stood stock-still, gazing at the hellish scene before her.
The street was filled with people, young and old, some fully clothed, others only half dressed, all running as if the devil himself were after them. Hoarse shouts and shrill wails mingled with the frightened neighing of horses and the fire’s unearthly roar. Nell, their own aged mare, stood trembling in her traces, rolling her eyes in terror.
Turning, Jessie gaped in disbelief at the towering wall of flame marching toward her. Dear God! It was her vision, just as she remembered! But how? Why hadn’t the fire crews stopped this blaze from getting out of control, as they had so many others over the past hot, dry weeks? Even yesterday’s terrible fire had finally been put out after leveling a four block section of the West Division. But the firemen must be exhausted after fighting that blaze for so many hours, she realized, and tonight they had this infernal wind to deal with.
The wind had blown a gale earlier, too, when they heard the alarm bells on their way home from Sunday evening mass. Tye had dashed off to have a look at the new fire – also over on the west side, across the south branch of the Chicago River from where they lived. After arriving home, she and her father had fallen to arguing and she’d gone to bed in a huff, forgetting all about the fire. While she’d slept, oblivious to the danger, the flames had grown to monstrous size, and now, as Da said, they’d jumped the river into the South Division.
“Jessie, don’t stand there gawkin’!” Da shouted, making her jump. “Into the wagon with ye!”
Released from the fire’s eerie spell, she ran down the porch steps with her unwieldy bundle.
“Let me help ye, Jess,” her brother offered, stepping forward. He was four years older, considerably taller than her and muscular from years of hard work. Relieving Jessie of her burden, he tossed it into the wagon, then lifted her aboard with ease. As she settled among their belongings he climbed up next to their father on the wagon seat.
Wasting no time, Da shook out the reins and guided Nell into the surging stream of traffic. Jessie’s throat constricted as she watched their cottage dwindle from view with flames already dancing along the roof and down the walls, again just as in her vision. She had no recollection of the New York tenement where she was born, where her parents first settled after coming to America from Ireland. The rooming house they’d lived in for a time after moving to Chicago was no more than a vague blur. This house Da and Mam had toiled so hard to own, where she had grown up, where her mother had died, was the only home she knew. Tears welled in her eyes and overflowed as she mourned its loss.
North the crowd surged, toward the business district and the wider main branch of the river that separated the city’s South and North Divisions. Fear knotted Jessie’s stomach and turned her mouth cotton-dry as the pursuing fire seemed to gain momentum with every passing second. She was terrified it would overtake them before they reached a bridge to the North Side and they would all die horribly!
Seamus Devlin shared his daughter’s fear and wished he had listened to her warning weeks ago. Much as he hated her cursed visions, her prediction was coming to pass before his very eyes. She’d said they would all pay a terrible price if he refused to believe her, and she’d been right about that too.
With people and conveyances clogging the streets, it was impossible to make an all out run for the river. Seamus’s apprehension grew with the slowness of their pace as he fought to control Nell and guide her through the jostling crowd. Terrified by the press of people, the smell of fire and the flames roaring at their backs, the mare was forever threatening to rear and overturn the wagon.
Seamus loved America and particularly Chicago. Here a man who was willing to work hard could give his family, if not a rich life, at least a descent one with plenty of food on the table and a roof over their heads. Things he couldn’t have given them in his native Ireland. Yet, much as he loved this city, he now saw its glaring flaw: it was built almost entirely of wood.
Inviting the hungry flames, the wooden buildings were roofed with wood shingles or felt and tar. Sidewalks and paving blocks in the streets were also made of wood, offering another path for the fire. Serving as kindling, paper-dry leaves lay everywhere.
While Seamus fled north with his son and daughter through this dangerous labyrinth, they saw fire crews battling valiantly to bring the inferno under control. Hampered by last night’s losses of both men and equipment and by fatigue, none of their attempts succeeded. At best, they fought a delaying action. In the end, like everyone else, they were forced to fall back.
Panic reigned as people struggled to reach safety. Some ran for their lives with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Others were so burdened with possessions that they could hardly walk. Huddled down behind Tye and her father, Jessie realized how lucky they were to have Nell and the wagon. In awestruck terror, she watched flames leap up walls and fly gleefully along rooftops. Bright sheets of fire flapped in the air, frighteningly beautiful in hues of orange, gold and angry red. Flung out by the murderous blaze, burning debris scattered hither and yon, a threat Jessie constantly fought, using a blanket to smother cinders that fell on the wagon.
Fed by the fire’s heat, the wind redoubled, sucking flames down narrow alleys between the tall buildings of the business district. Hearing it screech, Jessie covered her ears, but she couldn’t shut out the acrid fumes and ashes that seared her throat and eyes and turned her gray with soot. Nor could she shut out the horror surrounding her.
Her heart went out to the terrified children, to the old and infirm who could barely avoid being trampled by the fleeing crowd. Time and again she pleaded with her father until he stopped to pick up some tottering fugitive – until the wagon would hold no more and she could do nothing but look away from the next poor soul.
Arousing Jessie’s ire rather than her pity were the gangs of looters who were busy scavenging everything in sight. The brazen, drunken rascals didn’t even care who witnessed their evil deeds! Ha! If they weren’t careful, they just m
ight pay for their crimes this very night, trapped inside the buildings they were looting.
Disgusted as she was by the looters, Jessie forgot about them in the wake of one ghastly event. It occurred at the intersection of a narrow side street. Suddenly there came the sound of windows exploding from a building on the south side of the street. Hearing a shriek of stark terror, Jessie turned to look. She gave an appalled cry as tongues of fire whipped out of a broken window, engulfing a woman who happened to be running past at that moment. Screaming in agony, she tried to escape the flames. As she ran, she scattered terrified onlookers before her blazing figure.
“Help her, someone!” Jessie cried, though she sensed the poor woman was beyond saving.
Belatedly, two men took action. Armed with blankets, they managed to throw the woman to the ground and smother the flames. But it was too late. Even as Jessie stared in horror with her hands clenched against her lips, the woman’s writhing ceased and her strangled cries died away. The fire had claimed its latest victim.
Jessie sat dazed after that, mechanically smothering cinders, unaware of anything else until she heard the courthouse bell ringing. Lifting her head, she glimpsed the top of the stately building off to her right. Like the city’s new waterworks over on the North Side, the courthouse was built of stone and was said to be fireproof. In its vaults were kept all Cook County records. In its basement, criminals were jailed. Listening to the huge bell toll beneath its dome, Jessie closed her eyes, fearing it sounded the city’s death knell.
Unbeknownst to her, Mayor R. B. Mason feared the same as he sent out desperate telegrams to nearby Milwaukee and more distant cities. “Send men and equipment!” he pleaded, knowing the life of his city hung in the balance. A short while later, he was forced to flee as the courthouse itself succumbed, windows melting and masonry disintegrating in the extreme heat. As the building was being evacuated, the great bell continued to toll mournfully.
