The Belial Witches

by R. D. Brady

  The babe kicked her just as she stepped into the hallway leading to her cell. Sarah grimaced, putting a hand on her belly. One of her guards caught sight of the motion.

  “The spawn of the Devil grows there. The judge should have put you both to death.”

  “But he did not, did he?” No one had been more surprised than Sarah when her execution had been delayed until after the birth of her babe. The judge had decreed that the child could be innocent and he could not in good conscious sentence it to death.

  Of course, my other daughter is an innocent as well, but they have no trouble punishing her.

  Dorcas remained locked up. Sarah had not seen her the entire time, but she had heard her cries. They had stabbed through her as if they were knives. Her husband had tried to get Dorcas released, but nothing had worked. He had even testified against Sarah in the hopes it would secure Dorcas’s freedom.

  It had hurt to hear Daniel say those things, but she would take that hurt multiplied by a hundred if it could secure her daughter’s release.

  The one thing she could not do was give him the book, as much as it killed her. And after her babe was born, that commitment would, in fact, kill her.

  Just as it killed Susan. Susan had never made it to trial. She had grown weaker and weaker as time went on. Sarah had shared her food, but still Susan weakened. Sarah had been holding her hand when she died. And she’d lain with Susan in her arms until the guards had taken her body away.

  Susan had raged with fever for the last few days, and instead of offering her aid, her captors had taken it as more proof of her guilt.

  Last night, Sarah Goode had sat by her side, holding her hard and constantly cooling her brow. Susan was lucid toward the end, and they had talked of the good times and the time when they would see each other again in a better place.

  Then she had drifted into sleep and slipped from this world. The ache of her loss hung over Sarah, infesting every cell in her body. But at the same time, she was glad her friend had gone on to a better place. There was nothing but suffering left for them here.

  They reached her cell, and the guard unlocked the door and pushed Sarah inside. She stumbled over to the cot and curled up. The babe was quiet now, for which she was thankful. She ran her hand over her belly. It is not a good world you will enter soon.

  Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh and prayed for the oblivion of sleep. And for once, the world was merciful.

  “TIME TO WAKE UP, Sarah.”

  Blinking awake, it took Sarah awhile to recognize where she was. And when she did, she wanted nothing more than to return to her dream. She and Susan had been walking arm and arm along a brook. Dorcas was ten and jumping from rock to rock with a laugh. Her little sister trailed behind her, copying her moves and taking Dorcas’s hand when the distance was too great. It had been peaceful, and beautiful, and false. But Sarah had enjoyed every moment.

  “Oh, Sarah,” a voice sang at her. The lock turned in the cell door. Sarah sat up awkwardly, her stomach forcing her to push off the wall to get upright.

  Ann Putnam stood smiling at her—inside her cell.

  Sarah got slowly to her feet. “What are you doing here? How did you get into this cell?”

  Ann held up a set of keys. “Why, I let myself in.”

  Sarah frowned as she studied the girl. Something was very wrong here. “Are you all right?”

  “Why, I am just great. Thank you for asking. How are you? Must have been quite a shock to be found guilty when you are not a witch.”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open and she didn’t know what to say.

  Ann just smiled. “You are, however, a Follower, are you not?”

  “Ann, what are you doing? Why are you saying these things?”

  Ann tilted her head and smiled.

  Sarah narrowed her eyes, a dark thought crowding her mind. “Who are you?”

  Ann threw back her head and laughed. “Ah, so you figured it out. I was wondering when you would. I kept waiting and waiting. But honestly, it was taking forever. So I decided I should come for a little visit.” She flounced over to the cot and flopped down, straightening her dress.

  Sarah stood still, her eyes rooted on the ‘child,’ in front of her. “You are too young. You should not know anything yet.”

  “True. I should not. To be honest, I am not even sure this vessel will ever come into any powers. And yet, here I am.” She spread her arms wide.

  “Who are you?”

  “Names are not important, not really. Just know I am one of the top lieutenants of my great liege. And even now, I do his bidding.”

  Sarah began to shake and she backed up until her back hit the bars of the cell. “How is this possible?”

  “Tituba. What a wonderfully strange woman. Did you know she was kidnapped as a child and sold into slavery?” Ann knocked on her head. “Between you and me, I think it made her a little unstable. But it was actually a blessing, at least for me. Because she spent time with other slaves who were practitioners of the dark arts.”

  Sarah felt light-headed. “So Tituba is a witch.”

  Ann waved away Sarah’s words. “Oh please. There is no such things as witches. No, she does not really know what she is doing. But she does know some of the ceremonies, some of the potions, and she managed to open a door that I slipped right through. Lucky, no?”

  Sarah’s head was spinning and she gripped the bars behind her to keep from falling. Ann was a Fallen, or at least would be one day. “When did this happen? How did no one know?”

  “Well, the girls and I would gather at Reverend Samuel’s home and tell stories. He was never around, of course. So we only had Tituba to watch us. And she showed us what she had learned.”

  “What about Abigail and Elizabeth? Or any of the others? Are they also—”

  Ann shook her head. “Just girls.”

  “But the fits. . .”

  Ann smiled. “Also thanks to Tituba. Do you know there are roots that can cause delusions, vomiting, spasms? I sprinkle it into the girls’ food whenever I need them to respond.”

  “But why target us?”

  Ann held up her hands, a sheepish smile on her face. “Well, once again, that is my fault. Turns out they are easily manipulated. I suppose it is from having a complete donkey for a father. That man would not know a kind word if it bit him on the behind. But the upside of that kind of upbringing is a little praise can make them receptive to any idea.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this? I could tell them what you have said.”

  “And why would they believe you? We are merely three innocent girls, victims to the evil deeds of the witches in our midst.” She shrugged. “So go ahead. You, a female with no standing, tell all those male judges that I, a child, am the mastermind behind everything. See how far that gets you.”

  Sarah reeled as the truth stared her in the face. “You did all of this. Why?”

  “Oh, you know why. Think really hard for a moment.”

  “You want the book.”

  Ann clapped. “And a prize for Sarah. Very good. Now, where is it?”

  Sarah reeled. This child had set everything into motion. She had targeted all of them. She was responsible for Susan's death. But more importantly, she was doing all of this to gain the knowledge in the book. And she could not have it. Sarah straightened away from the bars. “I will not tell you.”

  Ann blew out a breath. “You see now, that is a problem, because I really do need it.”

  “It was you. You told them about the book.”

  There was no point denying its existence. If Ann was truly a Fallen, one of Samyaza’s top officers, he would know of the book. And given her surroundings, straight denial seemed pointless.

  Ann smiled. “Once again, very good. I did not tell them, exactly, but I did leave hints. You humans—always scrambling after glory. And that Cotton Mathers, well, he scrambles a little more than most.”

  “But how? No matter who you are inside, you are still a child outside
.”

  “A child with wonderful penmanship. A few notes sent his way, pushing him in the right direction, a few clues hinting where to look. And then when the accusations appeared, why, he knew exactly what to do. And how to get the reverend to do it.”

  “All of this for the book? Why? Why would you care about some ancient book? It has nothing to do with you.”

  Genuine surprise flashed across Ann’s face. And then she laughed and laughed. She held on to her stomach and rolled with mirth. Finally she got ahold of herself and wiped at her eyes. “Oh, God, you don’t know. You are all willing to lay down your lives and you have no idea why.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes. She knew that within the tome was a weapon that would determine the course of the fight between good and evil. She had been taught the words, but what Ann said was true. She didn’t know what the weapon was or how to wield it. She’d read the tome many times, but she’d never seen any mention of a weapon. Part of her worried that perhaps the pages with the weapon had been lost.

  But if Ann wanted it then they were right to defend it with their lives.

  Ann grinned, shaking her head. “It is just pure dumb loyalty, is it? I will give your Great Mother that. She has always been able to inspire loyalty in her Followers.” Ann tapped her finger to her lips. “But what to do now? I thought locking you up here, having your daughter locked up, would do the trick. Maybe I underestimated that maternal bond.”

  Sarah curled her right hand into a fist while her other covered her protruding belly.

  Ann raised an eyebrow. “Or perhaps not. Perhaps I was wrong to focus on emotional pain. You women seem to have a great deal of practice at dealing with that. Perhaps I should have focused more on physical pain.”

  “Whatever you do, I will not tell you.”

  Ann tilted her head, her lips pursed as she studied Sarah. “Hm, I actually believe you. That is a bit of a problem. Because you see, I figured after a few nights in here, faced with the looming specter of death, you would fold. But apparently you have not been properly motivated yet.” Ann hopped off the bed. “Well, I will have to see what I can do about that.”

  Sarah rushed across the room and grabbed Ann’s arm. “Whatever you are planning will not work. I will never tell you. None of us will.”

  Ann looked down at where Sarah’s hand was wrapped around her forearm and looked back up at Sarah with a huge smile. Then she opened her mouth and screamed, her smile in place the whole time.

  Guards shouted from down the hall. Sarah dropped Ann’s arm and stumbled back, but Ann continued to scream. Thomas appeared at the bars and Ann’s smile disappeared, her body contorting into an odd shape.

  “Get this door open!” Thomas yelled.

  Sarah stared at Ann in horror. She was bent to the side, her right shoulder raised, her left dropped by her side. The tilt of her neck was unnatural and her eyes were dead. Yet still she screamed.

  “She is attacking her!” Thomas yelled.

  “I am not! I have done nothing.” Sarah backed away from the bars until her back hit the wall. Thomas rushed into the cell, his eyes afire. Sarah put her hands in front of her as if she could keep him back. Behind him, Ann continued to scream, keeping in her contorted shape, but she winked at Sarah.

  “Witch!” Thomas yelled as his fist collided with the side of Sarah’s jaw.

  Sarah’s head whipped to the side, her hand slamming into the wall as she crumpled to the floor.

  CHAPTER 13

  Three months had passed since Ann’s first visit. She had come to visit three more times, always when Sarah was alone. The last time, she ticked off the names of all of the Followers. But that was not where Ann’s treachery ended.

  The Followers knew of the Fallen, but Sarah had never met one. She thought they might be myths like the Roman and Greek gods, exaggerations of real people. But if anything the tome had undersold the cruelty of the Fallen. In the time Sarah had been locked up, dozens more had been accused. Most named others, who named others, until Sarah had lost track of all the ‘witches’ roaming Salem. All her sisters, save Meg, had been accused, including Rebecca, whose trial was tomorrow. Rebecca was a woman in good standing, and her arrest had the already shell-shocked town in a full-blown panic. But not enough to rescind the arrest warrant.

  Ann had taken great relish in speaking of Rebecca’s arrest, so Sarah had no doubt that Rebecca would not be freed through tomorrow’s trial. No, she would be damned by it. Sarah looked into Rebecca’s concerned face. Rebecca and her sister, Mary, had been like mothers to all the Followers. And selfish as it was, she was glad she had Rebecca with her now.

  Sarah squirmed, pains shooting through her midsection. The labor had started earlier in the day but Sarah had said nothing. Rebecca noticed hours ago, as had her sisters, but they’d stayed quiet as well. But now, as the night turned darker, Sarah knew time was growing short. The pain was increasing and the contractions were coming more often.

  The baby was not cooperating, and Sarah knew something was wrong.

  Rebecca pushed Sarah’s hair back. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call for help?’’

  “Even if you did, they would provide none. It is better this way. I want my daughter born surrounded by love, not hate and fear.”

  Rebecca took her hand, and as Sarah turned to look in her eyes, she was grateful they had been placed in the same cell. “The babe will be here soon.”

  “Yes.” As if her agreement had spurred the babe on, her labor began in earnest. She labored for hours, and still the babe would not come. She fell back heavily into Martha’s arms. “Something is wrong.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I believe the child is facing the wrong direction. I will need to push on your belly to change its position.”

  Sarah had been thinking the same thing. But before she could say anything, Elisabeth Howe, another woman who shared their cell but was not a Follower, spoke. “But you cannot. If you interfere with the birth—”

  Sarah cut her off, grimacing as pain charged through her. “They will try me as a witch? I think we are beyond that worry now.”

  “Are you ready?” Rebecca asked.

  Martha helped prop her up and Sarah nodded. “Yes.”

  Twenty minutes later, Sarah delivered her little girl. She never cried. She never wiggled. She never breathed. The cord was wrapped around her neck when she entered the world.

  Tears flowed down Sarah’s cheeks as she cradled her daughter to her chest. She cursed Samuel and the court and the magistrate, blaming them for her daughter’s death. Sarah ran her hand over her daughter’s face, memorizing each line. She looked so like Dorcas, except she had a more determined chin.

  “You look so much like your sister. She wanted to meet you so terribly.” A choked sob escaped her and her chest shuddered. All these months she had held back her fear, her horror, knowing she needed to be strong. But as she stared into the face of her lifeless child, all the walls she built up against her emotions crumbled and she felt like she was drowning in a sea of regret, sorrow, and helplessness.

  Rebecca sat down gently next to her and pulled both mother and child into her shoulder. Then Sarah sobbed until she had no tears left.

  “She is beautiful, Sarah,’’ Martha said, tears in her own eyes.

  “What have you named her?” Rebecca asked.

  Sarah ran a finger down her daughter’s cheek as a tear followed the same path down her own cheek. “Her name is Mercy. For it is a mercy that she was spared the cruelty of this life.”

  But even as she knew her words were true, she wished she’d had the chance to look in her daughter’s eyes just once. She kissed Mercy on the forehead and held her tight as the tears flowed.

  You were never meant for this world, little one. And perhaps it is blessing. For the world you would have entered is a cruel one. Better you go on to a loving place.

  “The guards come,” Rebecca whispered.

  Sarah nodded. She had been given a stay for her child to be born. As soon
as they saw that her child had been born, that stay would be over.

  And she would join her child.

  CHAPTER 14

  TWO WEEKS LATER

  Reverend Parris himself stopped by Sarah’s cell the morning of her execution. He nodded at her. “You and I will speak one last time.” He nodded to the two guards he had brought with him.

  Rebecca clutched Sarah’s arm as Sarah stood. “I do not like this.”

  But even though she could sense Rebecca's fear for her, Sarah herself felt no fear, no anger, no sorrow, no pain. The truth was that since Mercy had been taken from her, she'd been nothing but blessedly numb. And all she felt was tired. Sarah patted Rebecca's hand. “Rest easy, friend. What more can they do to us now?”

  And that was the truth. For even Rebecca had been sentenced to death. She would die later today alongside Sarah.

  The guards led Sarah to the end of the hall and then into the church. They passed across the front and then into the hall that led to Samuel’s office.

  There was a closet halfway down.

  “Stop here,” Samuel ordered as he stepped forward. “You’ve been asking about your daughter. I thought you might want to say good-bye.” He pulled the door open.

  The closet was dark inside. Sarah stepped forward as the smell hit her.

  No.

  Dorcas’s dress reeked of urine and vomit. Her hair hung limp around her face, and she did not even look up as the light from the hallway hit her. Her dress hung on her, ripped and frayed.

  Sarah moved as quickly as she could across the small space. “Dorcas, my love.”

  Her hands touched her daughter’s face, but Dorcas did not respond. She stared straight ahead, drool leaking from the side of her mouth. “Oh, my beautiful girl, what have they done to you?”