Abby the Witch

by Odette C. Bell

  She wanted to be cold right now; it seemed right to be cold at this point in time.

  She wanted to believe that Pembrake wasn't serious, but she'd seen his eyes. She wanted to believe that he couldn't do it, but he was a Commander in the Navy – he'd know a way. But most of all she wanted to believe he'd change his mind, he'd decide that it wasn't worth it, he'd decide that it was wrong. But she knew, deep down, that he wouldn't do that.

  So she was just waiting for him. She'd pull him aside and try again, desperately try to convince him that this wouldn't work, that it wasn't even worth trying. She didn't want to see him killed by the Guards or thrown into jail. She didn't want to be separated from him for something that did not need to happen.

  Abby shifted closer to the wall and felt her eyes shuddering with immanent tears.

  He wasn't right, she knew that. They couldn't change the future for the better by assassinating the Colonel. You can't make the ending happy by simply changing the nature of the crime.

  'Abby!'

  Abby swivelled her head until she saw Charlie bound down from the wall above her.

  'Charlie!' she scooped him up and hugged him suddenly.

  'Pleck, Abby, what's wrong?'

  She nuzzled her face into his back, only wanting to open her eyes again when the world had gone back to normal.

  'Abby, seriously, you're getting my fur wet here – what's going on? I distracted that Captain guy, don't tell me you found yourself in more trouble after that?'

  She finally pulled her face away, finding more comfort in stroking her cat than she could ever hope to find in the past. 'Oh it's terrible. It's just terrible, it's awful, it's shocking – it's terrible!'

  Charlie sat up in her harms. 'Wow, that does sound bad.'

  'Pembrake… Pembrake wants to… Pembrake wants to….'

  'What the pleck, Abby?' Charlie looked genuinely alarmed, his whiskers sticking out. 'What does Pembrake want to do to you?'

  'To me? No… he… he,' she began to whisper quietly, 'he wants to kill the Colonel.'

  Charlie stared at her apparently numbed by her statement. 'Are you serious? That's the problem? Look, Abby, of course Pembrake is planning to off the old terror – have you forgotten your troll is in the army?'

  'Charlie, don't call him that; he's not a troll at all.'

  'Woah, let's stay on topic here, Abby. You aren't honestly telling me it's a surprise to you that Mr Arrogant Commander is planning a little bit of assassination on the side of history? Granted I think it's a clunky plan doomed to failure, but I'm still not surprised here.'

  'What? Charlie, this is horrible news! I can't believe you are siding with him.'

  'Siding with him? Me not being surprised that he's planning some extracurricular murder is not equivalent to me handing him the sword, Abby. Like I said, I don't think it will work. In fact I think it will end up in a big pile of disaster, but at least he's doing something.'

  'Charlie!' Abby looked down at the only thing she thought could have comforted her in her darkest moment and contemplated dropping him on the ground. 'Planning an assassination is the wrong kind of thing to be doing.'

  'But sitting around and moping about how ineffective you are isn't a fantastic alternative. Yes, your man is playing out his homicidal tendencies, but at least he's doing that in the real world - you're just withdrawing into that castle in your mind and locking yourself inside with fate as your only friend.'

  'I am not withdrawing, I'm just shocked….'

  'You withdraw, Abby. You try and convince yourself that nothing is wrong, and you put up with horrendous conditions. We live in a plecking attic in the centre of the slumps. And you, look at you, Abby, before we came back in time you were starving. What Pembrake is doing is wrong, Abby, but what you aren't doing isn't right.'

  She let his words wash over her. He was wrong – Charlie and Pembrake were both wrong. It was worse, much worse to do the wrong thing than to do nothing at all. Destiny was there to sort things out: if you just let it you could be confident that your life would be going in the direction that the fates set. But if you started making decisions, if you stated acting out of turn, if you started choosing through desire and fear – well of course your choices would end in ruin. No, she believed in destiny, and it was not her destiny to kill people.

  'Look, Abby, before you blow me out of the water, hear me out on this. Those witches told you that going back in time destroyed both yours and Pembrake's destinies. If your destines are destroyed, there's nothing deciding what you'll do next – nothing but you, that is. They said that you needed to find some way of tying your destinies down again – but how do you plan on doing that if you don't do anything? If you are too scared to make even one move, then how are you supposed to do anything at all?'

  'I'm not scared,' she could feel Charlie growing heavy in her arms and was not sure if it was the cold creeping into her bones or the weight of what he was saying.

  'Ah ha. BOOO!' Charlie suddenly jumped up onto her chest and Abby startled. 'You look pretty scared.'

  'Charlie, that wasn't funny.'

  But he had a point.

  ~~~

  Pembrake walked out of the Palace with his mind bent on one thing. He would find Abby and he would convince her that this was the right thing to do. But if he could not convince her, if she wouldn't listen to reason, then he would go ahead and do it anyway.

  If you took the responsibility of protecting someone, then you agreed to do whatever it took to keep them safe. He knew what to do in this situation; she was simply to innocent to make the same conclusion.

  He'd said goodbye to the Princess in a formal fashion, bending down on one knee and kissing her hand. She had almost exploded with excitement, something he would have found quite cute before he'd gone back in time. But now he was finding the usual admiration of women somewhat hallow. It was simply getting in the way of being affective.

  The Princess had mumbled something about him coming back to the Palace soon, and he'd smiled in reply. He wanted to keep his options open, but he also wanted to get out of the Palace for a bit. While it was true that whatever secret both he and Abby had to find may be in the Palace, he needed sometime away, a moment to convince her that what he was planning was the best possible action for the both of them.

  The Palace and the future could wait for now.

  He found her finally, leaning against the main wall separating the Palace from the rest of Bridgestock. Charlie was by her feet licking himself quietly. The cold night wind was howling past them, bringing a salty gust of sea air and chilling the back of his neck.

  She was standing there in a thin dress without a shawl or jacket, her back pressed against the wall – she must be freezing. 'Abby,' he called to her as he took off his jacket.

  She looked up, eyes hooded with unmistakable worry.

  'Abby, you must be freezing,' he draped his jacket over her shoulders before she could protest.'

  'I hadn't really noticed,' her voice had that distant quality again. It was painfully easy to tell when she was thinking. The rest of her shut down and she peered into the distance lost in her own world.

  'Your lips are blue!' he put out his hands to rub her shoulders, but dropped them to his sides, too awkward to go through with it. 'I think we really need to get in out of this wind.'

  'And go where?' her voice was blank.

  'I… technically I am allowed to stay at the Palace tonight….'

  'What are you suggesting?' she looked up at him slowly, not bothering to pull his jacket closer to her, just letting it drape limply from her softly shaking shoulders.

  'I,' he put his finger up to his collar and loosened it. 'I simply mean we should find a warm place to discuss what we do from here.'

  'Oh.'

  A moment passed and Pembrake became aware of a softly croaking cricket off in the grass somewhere. Abby was being very quiet….

  'Look, Abby, I really think you should come in out of the cold. It seems too late to jo
urney all the way to Martha's tonight.'

  'Too late?'

  'You're lips are blue, Abby – they're actually blue! Would you please just come in out of the night?' He put out a hand to shepherd her, but she did not seem to want to move.

  'I'm not going back into the Palace with you,' she looked up at him, 'if you still want to do what it is that you wanted to do before.'

  It took him a moment. 'Look we'll discuss it inside, just come in with me.'

  'No, Pembrake,' she shrugged off his hand, 'I won't.'

  'Abby,' he clenched his teeth against the biting wind and her infuriating obstinacy. 'You are going to freeze out here!'

  'Better to be cold and right than warm and wrong.'

  'Abby.'

  'Pembrake.'

  'Abby, please don't do this, just come inside.'

  'Pembrake, please don't do this. It won't work. You'll just end up dead and I'll be stuck here alone.'

  He swallowed at the shivering emotion behind her eyes. 'If I don't do it, then what future will I have anyway?'

  'One with m-' she stopped suddenly then took a breath, 'a sure one.'

  'I don't want to be certain, I want to be happy. I want us to be happy.'

  She looked up at him again, most of her hair having escaped from her bun and cascading around her face like tendrils of crinkled ribbon. Her grey eyes were flickering in the bright light of the full moon, her dress shiny and almost reflective like a deep pool of water.

  She was quite beautiful Abigail Gail, witch of Bridgestock. When she wasn’t pretending to be angry, when she wasn’t pretending to be distant, when she wasn’t pretending to be old. It had just taken him a very long time to see through to what was underneath.

  'Abby, I…' he wasn't sure of a thing was he? His world seemed to change before him like a mirage, constantly shifting, constantly wavering. Things he thought sure of were melting before him.

  The leaves of the trees that hung over the wall were rustling in the breeze. But it was strange, he realised as he almost unconsciously took a step forward, strange how they seemed to slow down as if time itself was drawing to a stop.

  He leant down. She leant forward.

  'Abby!'

  They broke apart.

  'Oh, Abby, yoo hoo! I thought I saw you over here girl!' it was Martha and she was trotting along the wall towards them, 'Oh there you are!'

  Pembrake fussed with the cuffs of his shirt.

  'What you two doing then?' Martha bustled all the way up to them and put her hands on her hips and continued to peer excitedly as if she were looking at exotic animals at the zoo.

  'I'd say you'd be cold out here wearing that flimsy dress there, Abby, but you look quite warm really…' Martha slowed for a moment, her eyes narrowing obviously. Watching Martha think was like watching a children's actor. Every thought or word was accompanied by its equivalent action.

  'I'll give you one guess,' Charlie piped up suddenly, his voice absolutely brimming with sarcasm.

  Martha sucked in the largest breath the world had seen and it seemed certain she would pop. 'They weren't about to kiss, were they? Oh I didn't just interrupt that, did I?'

  'Thankfully,' drawled Charlie. 'You prevented me from having to bite them.'

  Martha squealed and clutched her hands to her face. 'Oh what a rotter I am! What a terrible thing to interrupt! I'm so sorry!'

  She was so terribly sincere it sounded like she'd killed his dog.

  He cleared his throat and scratched his head. 'Martha, is there something you want?'

  Martha had that crazed romantic-look in her eyes, and it was insanely off putting.

  'Oh, oh, yes,' his words were apparently breaking her away from whatever fantasy she was playing out in her head, 'I just came to tell Abby that she's welcome to stay at the Palace tonight, what with the Ball going late and all, and the fact I won't be finished here too late, and what with her wanting to get to bed early and all, because she'd probably tired and all, you know?'

  Pembrake shook his head and tried to follow. 'I think…. Yes, that's a great idea.'

  Martha nodded, 'I thought you'd like it,' she winked worryingly.

  'But we aren't going home?' Abby was clutching his jacket close now. 'But-'

  'Don't worry, child, I've cleared it with the ladies in the kitchen – it's all alright with us. I've made you up a room in the servant's quarters. You are my guest, my dear – no one's going to mind.'

  'So we aren't going back to your house then?' Abby's voice had a cute little waver.

  'No, dear,' Martha stretched her arms out, 'you're staying right here with him tonight.'

  'Oh my.'

  Martha was brimming with enthusiasm. 'Oh this is just perfect, dear. It'll take us staff a while and a bit to clean up after this party – so I won't imagine I'll be getting you back to the house until oh… late afternoon.'

  'But won't I be in trouble if I stay at the palace?'

  'Depends on what trouble you'd be wanting to court, dear,' she winked again.

  Pembrake winced.

  'But, I…' Abby looked at him, and it was clear what she was thinking. She thought he was going to off the Colonel the first chance he got and be in prison by the morning. He wasn't that stupid. 'I just think we could get into trouble,' she finished weakly.

  'Oh don't worry, dove. What's meant to be is meant to be. And you might be finding you like that kind of trouble.’ Martha actually stage winked. ‘Now,' she took a huge step backwards, 'I will just leave you two to finish what you were doing, and you come to the kitchen when you're done doing-'

  Pembrake cleared his throat so loud that he sounded like a fog horn.

  Martha sauntered off laughing merrily.

  'Look, I'm following her; I don't want to have any part of this.' Charlie trotted off after Martha, leaving just the two of them.

  'We should… go inside,' he said after a moment.

  'I guess so,' her eyes were darting around like minnows in the shallows.

  'Yeah.… But you won't, um, do anything tonight?'

  His cheeks went slightly red. 'Oh… ah – no, I won't do anything regarding my, ah, plan for the future. Not tonight.'

  'That's good….'

  'Yes,' he said clumsily.

  'Okay… well we should go inside then.'

  'Yes… I guess that would be a good idea.'

  She nodded. 'Okay.'

  'We'll go inside,' he repeated stupidly, 'right.'

  They both walked off towards the castle.

  Never in his life had Pembrake felt quite as awkward as he did now. But somehow he found a way to smile.

  Chapter 17

  Abby grabbed at her blanket and pulled it further up until it was flush under her chin. Being in bed was bliss. Yes, there was no chance that she was going to get any sleep tonight, but that wasn't the point. She had been freezing out there.

  Charlie nudged closer to her, purring away.

  She stared up at the ceiling, wide-eyed and possibly in shock. She'd never been in shock before, not that she'd known of anyway, but neither had she ever felt like this.

  This was so new.

  Her and Pembrake had parted ways once they'd walked up to the kitchen doors. They hadn't spoken much on the short walk there. Which was good; she would not have been able to talk at all if pressed.

  Once they'd reached the door, she'd offered him his jacket back, but he wouldn't let her give it to him. He insisted that she take it for the night. She hadn't bothered to fight that.

  Then they'd stopped at the door. There hadn't been too many people around, it had almost been like it was just the two of them again.

  Pembrake had placed his hands into the pockets of his pants and had moved around a bit, shuffling his feet against the gravel.

  Abby gripped the blankets tighter until her knuckles grew stiff.

  Pembrake had appeared to be on the verge of saying something, or doing something, perhaps.

  'I… will see you tomorrow?'

  'Yes
,' she'd squeaked, rocking backwards on her feet. 'I… guess you will.'

  He'd nodded. 'You should get inside,' he'd pointed behind him, 'because you look so cold.'

  'Oh yes.'

  That had appeared to be that, so she'd moved to walk past him, trying to concentrate very hard on walking.

  'Abby,' he'd reached out a hand, ‘one last thing.'

  Oh how those simple words had sent a shiver down her spine.

  'Y-yes?'

  'I…. I'll see you in the morning… and we… will discuss things from there.'

  'Oh.'

  That was it. Whether that was all he had meant to say, she did not know. But after that they had gone their separate ways.

  It was very hard to admit this, Abby realised, but she had… wanted something else.

  Her cheeks burned at the very thought of it.

  But she would see him tomorrow, right? There was something in that….

  In the morning Abby woke to find nothing in particular. What had she been expecting? Nothing, she convinced herself as she rose. She did not have a mounting sense of expectation, the back of her neck was not itching, nor had her heart settled into an elevated rate.

  She made her way through the kitchens to meet up with Martha. She wasn't looking for breakfast particularly, just someone to talk to. Someone other than Charlie, that was, who seemed happy to tell her she was an idiot every time she opened her mouth. Apparently he did not want to talk about Pembrake, but she tried to assure him that she had no intention of discussing the Commander.

  She just wanted to talk.

  So she walked into the kitchens looking for a friendly face. It was busy as usual with chefs, kitchen aids, and maids dashing about. So busy, in fact, that Abby quickly found herself overwhelmed. She tried to backtrack but bumped into something. 'Sorry!' she mumbled, turning quickly.

  'You're alright,' a man dressed in simple clothes holding onto a bowl of what appeared to be chocolate icing, nodded at her kindly.

  'Sorry,' she repeated again, there was something strangely familiar about the man.