“I think that is good. Get the book, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth unwrapped it and held it before us. “I don’t think I’ve used anything but a quill before. I am thankful that my father thought even a girl should learn to read and write. There are unscrupulous neighbors who try to forge good names in land grabs.”
Tammy scoffed.
“It happens! It happened to his sister who could neither read nor write. Her land was signed away by her neighbor, and my father said she died in a ditch!”
Tammy breathed deeply. “We will not die in a ditch, but, Elizabeth, you will have to help Violet and me write our names.”
I stood tall. “I can write my name and read a bit, too. Betty taught me.”
Tammy appraised me in the moonlight, and it was clear she did not find this news pleasing. “Very well, Elizabeth can help just me, then.” She sat on the forest floor and we joined her, though now there was a chill in the air.
Elizabeth opened the book to the first page. “Do I just write my name?”
Tammy shook her head. “No, write what I say; tell me if I go too fast.”
Elizabeth nodded. “All right.”
“We three named herein do bind ourselves on this night, to form an unbreakable covenant.” She paused to let Elizabeth get the words down. “We ask this book to add the names of those who should be punished and let them feel our wrath.”
“Oh, my,” Elizabeth muttered, “so dark and so many words. I must admit, I am out of practice.”
She continued writing, her lips silently forming each of the letters as she went. Finally, she looked up. “Is that it?”
“I think that is enough,” Tammy said.
“Should I write my name now?”
Tammy took a small fish knife out of her pocket. “Not with the pencil—with our blood.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Oh, dear.” Elizabeth turned to me with wide eyes. “Do you think it really must be in blood? You know, maybe it will still work if we just write with pencil.”
I sighed, not relishing bloodletting as well. “I’m afraid it seems fitting, but perhaps we use the pencil for our names and then just drip our blood on the page? There are three of us, so just three drops each?”
“That sounds like a fine idea to me,” Elizabeth jumped in before Tammy could speak. “It would take an awful lot of blood to form each letter, and while I will not be missed by my stepfather, Violet should get back sooner rather than later.”
“Very well, if it be but a matter of time and not cowardice,” Tammy said pointedly.
Elizabeth bristled. “No coward would be sitting under the full moon waiting for a wolf to do her bidding!”
“You are braver than I, Elizabeth, but let us make haste,” I implored. “I will admit I am a coward when it comes to the Mistress and Reverend Parris.”
Elizabeth nodded and carefully wrote her name. She passed the pencil to Tammy and then wrapped her hand around hers.
“T-A-M-M-Y Y-O-U-N-G-E-R.”
When Elizabeth released her hand, Tammy ran a finger along the letters. “This is my name?”
I nodded and thought I could see a touch of annoyance in her eyes as she gave me the pencil. For all her swagger, it was clear she was bothered by being the only one in our trio unable to read and write.
I disregarded her ire and carefully formed the letters in my own name. “Is just Violet enough? Though the reverend and the townsfolk always used the name Indian when speaking of my family, it was merely what we were, and not a God-given name.”
“I think it is enough,” Tammy said curtly.
She grabbed the book from my hands and placed it back in her lap. She took the knife out again and, without hesitation, drew a long line across her forearm with its tip.
“Oh, my, oh, dear,” Elizabeth whispered, her hand rising to fan her face as three drops of Tammy’s blood splashed on the page.
Tammy lifted her skirt and wiped the blood from the knife on her dirty petticoat. “Elizabeth?”
Even in the pale moonlight I could see the color leave Elizabeth’s face.
I pushed up my sleeve and held my hand to Tammy. “I’ll go next,” I said, to give Elizabeth time to bolster her nerves. I took a deep breath and winced as I made a small cut in the crook of my arm and held it over my name. Three drops fell and then I pulled my arm quickly to my chest to stop the bleeding.
“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth whispered again, as she held out her hand.
I gave her the knife. “It looks worse than it is, and it doesn’t have to be too big—just enough for three tiny drops.
She looked up at the moon and then poked the tip of her thumb. “Ah!” she yelled, and then quickly squeezed three drops onto the page before sticking her thumb in her mouth.
Tammy took the book and blew on the crimson stains. “This is our sacrifice so that our full magic will be born under this full moon.” She rewrapped the book in its cloth and stood. “Come; we three will place it in the hole together.”
Elizabeth and I stood, and we each laid a hand on the book.
“Show us the first name!” Tammy yelled to the sky, and then we leaned down and placed the book at the bottom of the hole.
My heart began to race. Would some unearthly power really write a name in this book for us to see when we dug it back up?
“Now our bundles on top.” Tammy took hers, wrapped in oilcloth, and carefully lowered it in.
“What did you put in it?” Elizabeth whispered.
Tammy grinned. “I told you, it is a surprise.”
Elizabeth huffed and then placed her bundle next to Tammy’s. “I bet it is a kitten’s whisker; you seem to be quite fond of kittens and they of you.”
“You shall see soon enough,” she said slyly.
I placed my bundle beside the other two and a thought crossed my mind. “Wait, the coin! I can’t return home without more. Do you think it would be possible to magic more?”
“Yes!” Elizabeth squealed. “And I brought an extra egg in case one of ours were to break.” She shrugged. “My stepfather says I tend to be clumsy, but perhaps we can wrap the coin with the egg and see what happens?”
“See what happens, indeed,” Tammy said. She placed the last bundle with the egg and coin in the hole. She stood tall and inhaled, breathing out slowly. “Throw the dirt in, and as you do, focus your intentions on what we have buried and what we hope to be birthed. Concentrate on those who have wronged us. Concentrate on bringing your familiar to life. Feel the energy in the soil below us and the moon above. Breathe in the air, feel the wind, take it inside you. Bring all this into yourself and watch the magic happen.”
Silently, we filled the hole and I struggled in my naming. I was sure Betty’s and Abigail’s names had passed through Elizabeth’s mind, and I could not fault her for that. They had accused her mother along with my own, but Elizabeth’s mother had died in prison—she surely held a grudge.
My mind raced.
I once overheard Sheriff Corwin say it was lucky her mother had passed in the jail as it was probably an easier way for a witch to die than by the noose. He followed that statement with a laugh to which others joined in.
I tossed in another handful of dirt.
If we were truly able to make magic tonight, what would become of those named in our book?
I decided to direct my energies on my bundle and the coin.
If I had known it were possible to conjure coins, maybe Papa and I could have magicked some up and paid Mama’s bail. And while I admired Elizabeth’s wish for a wolf to do her bidding, I knew Mama would approve of my less adventurous choice. Mama loved birds and often spoke of the canaries the plantation owners kept in her homeland. She said they reminded her of home, and she often wished the reverend had brought one or two to Salem, as they would have added some color and song to our gray home.
While a raven was not delicate or colorful like the canaries in her previous home, Mama had told me that her tribe, the Arawak, believed that
birds were the connection between the visible and non-visible worlds.
It seemed fitting that a bird might help me bridge those two worlds and reunite me with Mama and Papa.
Tammy and I reached down to grab one of the last handfuls of dirt at the same time and I looked up. Her face was contorted with rage as she flung a fistful into the nearly full hole. Her hair seemed to stand at its roots and dance about her as if it were alive, and I thought she almost had a glow about her.
I glanced at Elizabeth. She was breathing heavily as she concentrated on our task, and I wondered if she felt the same dark energy radiating from Tammy that I did.
“What is next?” I said, dropping the last bit of earth in the hole and stretching my tired muscles.
Tammy patted the earth and carefully redrew the circle with a stick. When she was done, she looked up and I took a step back. Her eyes were as wild as the feral dogs that roamed the streets last summer.
“We three join hands around this circle. I summon the power from the earth; Violet, the round moon and the twinkling stars; Elizabeth, from the air all around us.”
I nodded, though I knew not how to summon anything.
I started to wipe my palms on my dress when Tammy leapt up and snatched my arms, holding them apart. “Leave the earth on your hands; it will connect us.”
Her fingers burned against my skin and I half expected to see a mark, but there was none.
She looked up at the moon and then closed her eyes with her arms outstretched. “It is time.”
We three stood opposite each other, and Elizabeth and I reached out. The second our hands touched, I gasped. Tremors racked my body as the ground began to tremble under my feet. Leaves rustled as the wind picked up faster and faster, whipping our hair around our faces.
Tammy threw her head back and laughed. “Feel the earth fill us with its energy, feel the moon fill us with its light, feel the wind blow away any doubt that we are strong. Gather it all inside yourself and we will ask—no, we will demand the book to write the names of our enemies in blood!”
Elizabeth moaned, tears streaking down her frightened face. “What’s happening?”
She tried to rip her hands from mine, but I held them tight.
“Please,” she wept, pulling harder. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go home!”
“Don’t you dare let her go, Violet—hold her tight,” Tammy growled. “I will have everything I deserve, and Elizabeth Prince is not going to take that from me!”
Elizabeth’s knees buckled as she tried to wrest her hands from ours. “Let me go! Please!”
The wind roared, and tree limbs creaked. Leaves and debris circled us, rising higher and higher into the air. My hands grew moist, and I felt my grasp on Elizabeth start to slide. I looked to the sky for strength and focused on the North Star, faint in the moonlight. “It will be all right, Elizabeth,” I called, clutching her tighter.
“You’re hurting me,” she wailed.
The leaves surrounding us suddenly rose high above our heads, and before I could blink, they dropped as if rocks into the center of the circle.
The woods became silent, except for Elizabeth’s sobs and the beating of my heart.
“Did we do it?” I asked breathlessly, staring down at the leaves that had settled to fit perfectly into the circle at our feet. “Did it work?”
Tammy dropped our hands and pointed. “Look! It is happening! It is truly happening.”
“Oh Lord!” Elizabeth wailed as she scrambled away from the mound pulsing and pushing up from the earth in the center of the circle. “What have we done?” She turned to me and flung herself sobbing into my arms. “Violet! What have we done?”
My breath caught. A sharp, black beak worked its way through the dirt and leaves. The earth writhed, and an ebony-feathered head with eyes as dark as pitch pushed its way out. It blinked and stretched its neck and with a final thrust burst out into the air, showering us with dirt and leaves. A raucous caw pierced the night and my bird, my familiar, flew up into the trees.
“What have we done, Elizabeth?” I turned my chin to the sky and almost felt as if the light of the moon were reaching out to warm me. “We’ve worked actual magic. We are witches.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Elizabeth dropped to my feet, wrapping her arms around my legs. I tugged at her, trying to pull her up. “It’s all right. This is what we wanted, and we did it! You did it. And look!” I gently tilted her chin upward. “There in the branches—that’s my bird. It belongs to me.”
The raven peered down at us from its perch. Elizabeth grimaced. “I never truly believed. I never truly thought it would work,” she said frantically.
The raven fluffed its feathers; dirt drifted down, looking like fabled fairy dust in the moonlight. It cocked its head and trained its eyes on me.
“You are Opias,” I declared. “Like the forest spirits from where my parents were born—and stolen from. Now you will help me find where they have been taken to.”
“The next should be arriving any time now!” Tammy called. “Be ready.”
Elizabeth buried her face in her hands.
Tammy rolled her eyes and stalked over to her. “Get up! A wolf may be coming, and you will need to control it!”
She shook her head and doubled over, rocking as she wept. Tammy grabbed a handful of her blond hair and yanked. “Get up!”
I slapped Tammy’s hand away as Elizabeth howled in pain.
“Leave her be!” I bent over to Elizabeth and rubbed her back. “It is all right. These are our familiars, they are a part of us. You need not fear them.”
Elizabeth looked up at me, her dirty face streaked with tears. “I do not fear your raven or my wolf. I fear God.” She pointed to the tree. “That is just a bird,” she screamed. “But I have become—no, I have chosen to become—the one thing my mother refused to confess! I know my mother was no witch, but she also chose to die rather than lie. She would also die before this.”
A sob hitched in her throat as she looked to the circle just past us. “I’m making a mockery of her memory.”
Tammy knelt by her other side, clutching her shoulder. “You’re doing no such thing; you are avenging your mother’s death. You are honoring her by avenging Violet’s mother and father and all the others. I know your mother was no witch, but I also know she would want to see you safe.”
Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “Safe?”
Tammy loosened her grasp. “Yes, safe. She would want you to have the power to teach the angry men in this town, and those in the next, that they cannot control us—that they can lay a hand on us no more.”
“I am torn in two,” Elizabeth whimpered. “I thought I wanted this—to be a witch or a folk woman or whatever you call it—but truly, I wished it wouldn’t happen. I hoped it wouldn’t happen and that all this would have been for jest—a small diversion from my miserable life. Tammy, I would have been satisfied to just be your friend and play with the kittens in the barn.”
Tammy stood, her face rock-hard. “This is no jest and there is no turning back. We have made a pact—we have signed our names and made a covenant.”
Elizabeth looked over to the circle and her lips trembled. “The earth moves again.”
My heart raced. Would it be a wolf or kitten next? As the loose dirt rippled, a muffled rattle shook my bones. “Oh, Tammy, no! You didn’t?”
Elizabeth’s sobs halted as her mouth opened in a silent scream.
She went to bolt, but Tammy grabbed her and then held her tight, turning her to face the circle. “You will watch, and you will see what a powerful woman can conjure.”
Tammy smiled gleefully. “My familiar is more powerful than a wolf and it will strike fear in the heart of any man”—she squeezed Elizabeth’s arms tighter—“or woman who goes against me.”
And there it was: a rattlesnake slithering slowly, inch by inch, out of the circle. Its head rose in the air and then it shook its cream-colored rattle.
Tammy flung her arms back, letting Elizabeth go, knowing full well she was frozen to the spot. “Watch closely, Elizabeth Prince. Take note.”
Tammy slowly approached the snake. Its body was but three feet long, with jagged bands of black lining its sturdy, tan length. I couldn’t help wondering whether she was disappointed she hadn’t birthed a fully grown familiar, but then my heart stopped as she leaned down inches from its face.
My eyes grew wide. “Tammy, no!”
She looked back at me. “I think I’ll call him . . . Bone-Shaker. What do you think of that, Violet Somebody?”
My breath caught. “I think on how it is you who seems to read my mind so often, Tammy Younger.”
She stroked the snake’s head much like one would pet a kitten. She stared into its cold eyes and then turned to me. “I read your face and it shows me what is in your head, Violet. Nothing more.”
Tammy picked up the beast, and a shudder racked my body as she draped it across her shoulders and it wrapped itself around her neck. “There’s a good Bone-Shaker,” she said, nuzzling the top of its head.
Thomas had once dared me to touch a dead garden snake. I was surprised by how cool and smooth its scales were; I’d thought they would be more like that of a slippery frog. I remember how even such a tiny thing, no longer alive and no wider than my little finger, still frightened me.
When I confessed what I’d done to Mama and Papa, they’d talked of the dangerous snakes in their homeland and on the island they lived on before they were bought. They warned me what to watch out for in Salem: the triangle head, the jagged stripes, the death rattle.
A frosty air filled me.
During the witch trials, people often spoke of the familiars sent out to attack their neighbors: cats, dogs, small birds, even rats and pigs.
That Tammy could choose such a wicked creature to be her familiar showed me there was more to her than just her ability to read an expression on my face.
It showed me I needed to be careful of my thoughts—careful of everything.
And the way she pulled Elizabeth by the hair—that showed me we were not sisters as I had thought.
Only the Stars Know Her Name Page 7
