Only the Stars Know Her Name

by Amanda Marrone

  Tammy pushed Elizabeth, knocking her to the ground. “Lost? What are you trying to do? What does the spell really say? Tell me or I will kill you!”

  Bone-Shaker lunged at Elizabeth, and she screamed as her hen flew in between them. The snake clenched the bird in its jaw, shook it, and then tossed its limp body aside.

  In shock, Elizabeth froze. “You can’t mean it, Tammy! You just killed my hen. Would you really kill me?”

  Tammy shook her head. “Tell me or you will not be as lucky as Mercy Lewis. I will send my snake after you, and hold you to the ground until the venom takes your life—just as it did your hen’s.”

  “Tammy,” I implored. “We knew not how the spell would come to us. It is a love spell, that is all.”

  Just then Elizabeth screamed out, “Violet, the book!”

  Tammy and I looked down and saw that the book was smoking by some unseen fire. Tammy’s mouth dropped open. “Martha Wilds had said the book would be indestructible. She said . . .”

  Tammy stared at me.

  “You had your bird spy on Martha Wilds. I knew it. You are a fraud. You wanted to destroy the book all along. But how—how is this happening?”

  “Tammy, it’s not what it seems!” I said.

  “Don’t lie to me, Violet Indian, I can see it on your face. You always did give yourself away with your soft, pathetic heart. I will kill you both and I will shed no tears. I will find new girls—hard girls, who would never betray me.”

  Suddenly, Thomas Parris stepped out of the shadows with a shovel and brought the blade down on Bone-Shaker’s neck, severing the snake in two. The pieces wiggled and danced as Elizabeth screamed in horror.

  Tammy went wild and threw herself at Thomas. “What have you done?” she shrieked, pounding on his chest.

  He threw her to the ground. “I am saving my sister.” He leapt down and pinned her shoulders back while she writhed and screamed, trying to throw him off.

  “Elizabeth, get the book!” I called out. I took the metal hair comb from behind my ear and dragged it deeply across Tammy’s arm. Blood welled up as heat and static leapt from her body.

  “I can’t hold her much longer,” Thomas yelled.

  With a strength I didn’t know I had, I yanked Tammy’s arm and held it fast over the book. “Come on! Just three drops.”

  The first landed on her name, and the book pages flapped in the icy wind, blowing smoke in my face. I squinted, trying to make sure I could get two more drops on her name. “Elizabeth, hold the pages down!”

  Drop number two landed on its mark, and flames leapt from the page, melting some of my hair.

  “Hurry, Violet!” Elizabeth cried.

  The final drop hit the page and the book’s spine snapped in two. The pages rose in the air and burned, leaving ashes all around us.

  “What have you done?” Tammy screamed. “What is happening to me?”

  Her hair stood on end as lightning left her body, crackling into the night air.

  “What have we done?” Elizabeth glared at Tammy. “We have broken the pact and stripped you of all your powers.”

  Tammy knelt on the ground, sobbing. “But . . . why?”

  I shook my head. “Despite all the terrible things that have happened in my life, I could never enjoy seeing someone else suffer. Never. We could not abide it a day more.”

  Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “I suggest you make your way back to Gloucester. I will inform my stepfather that you simply took off in the night.”

  She turned to Thomas. “Do you want me to go?”

  Thomas inhaled. He nodded, giving her an unflinching stare.

  “But I love you.”

  “I don’t think you are capable of loving anything. If I ever see you in Salem again, I will confess to all we have done in the woods. We will be put in the stocks, but it will be worth it.”

  “I don’t believe you, Thomas,” cried Tammy. “You can’t mean it.”

  Thomas coldly turned his back. “I need to go home to see if my sister still breathes—not that you care.”

  Tammy stood and brushed herself off. “I don’t care. Your sister and Abigail and all the others deserve what they get. And, Violet, good luck finding your parents without the book.”

  “Martha Wilds told me that they are in Maine. She told me you knew.”

  She sneered. “I did, but I am most happy knowing that without our magic, you will never have enough coins to pay off the reverend. Your parents may as well be on the moon, as you will never see them again. I for one will sleep very well every night knowing this. You could have had anything you wanted.”

  Tammy rubbed the cut on her arm and spat on the ground. “Goodbye, Violet Indian.”

  She turned and walked rapidly away. Soon she was engulfed in the dark woods.

  “Let’s go home,” Thomas said softly. “We’ll walk you to your farm, Elizabeth.”

  “No, we must go see Betty,” she said. “I must see if destroying the book worked.”

  “Even with the book destroyed,” said Thomas, “she may not be out of danger yet.”

  I bowed my head. “Let’s hope and pray that she is.” I looked at the snake’s body, which was still twitching, and Elizabeth’s poor hen. “I plan never to set foot in this clearing again.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  At services that next Sunday, Reverend Parris spoke of the power of prayer and how it had taken Betty from the brink of death to cured in one day’s time. Never satisfied, he also took the opportunity to chastise the congregation for letting his kindling box go empty and complain about the lack of tithings keeping him from buying even a new book to compose his sermons in.

  But when Thomas, Elizabeth, and I had arrived back at the house the night we broke the covenant and sent Tammy on her way, Mistress Parris and Abigail were weeping with joy. The pox that had covered Betty were gone by half already, and in the morning, she was clear of all lesions. Dr. Griggs said it was indeed proof that leading a Godly life could bring miracles.

  I thought it was proof that sometimes you have to make your own miracles.

  Some in town still talked of the black bird that went to Lydia Corwin’s, and that she was forced to bury her husband in the basement of the house for fear his grave would be desecrated. But overall, it felt as if a dark cloud had been lifted from the town, and people seemed more at ease.

  Thomas and I were questioned as to what we were doing out that night and we had said, praying, in unison.

  With Betty’s miraculous cure, none questioned us further.

  This Sabbath, though, I was nearly jumping out of my skin for the sermon to be over. It had been almost a month since Tammy Younger had left Salem to who knows where. Without the magic of three girls—three women—Opias was spending more and more of his time in the woods, and there were days he did not answer my call at all, but this morning I found him waiting patiently on the rock wall with a note tied to his leg:

  Violet,

  You must come to my home after services. I have news that will change both our lives. This is the magic we have been waiting for.

  E

  With permission from Mistress Parris, as soon as the reverend concluded his last Amen, I ran all the way to Elizabeth’s. She was sitting on the front step, holding a leather bag. When she saw me, she leapt up and met me halfway.

  “Violet, the governor of Massachusetts has sent money to the families of those who had been wrongly accused of witchcraft and died.”

  “Money?”

  She shook the bag. “My stepfather has been talking of selling the farm. I persuaded him to give me half of the governor’s money on the condition I move on and leave him with one less mouth to feed and no claim to anything from the sale.”

  My heart sunk. “You’re moving? This was not the news I was expecting. I am happy for you, but . . .” I tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

  She shook her head, all the while beaming at me. “We are moving.”

 
“What?”

  “Violet, I am giving you the money to buy your freedom, but on one condition. You must let me accompany you to Maine. There we can be independent women and pioneers . . . and we can find your parents.”

  My hand flew to my heart. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You saved my life, Violet. You gave me hope and you deserve to get out of that house and I couldn’t be more happy to share this with you. Both of our mothers were victims.”

  “But my mother—”

  “Your mother did not know what would happen when she told those stories any more than we knew what would happen when we signed our name in that book. Do you really think your mother would have said all she did if she knew what would happen?”

  “I don’t think so—I hope not.”

  “Well, let’s go to Maine and ask her.”

  “Elizabeth, are you really sure you want to go north? You’ve heard the tales of attacks from savages and wolves, and really, I couldn’t ask you to sacrifice your coins and maybe even your life for me.”

  She stood with her chin raised and an air of determination on her face. “I will not take no for an answer. I am ready to leave this town and start fresh, and I require a fearless partner who can think on her feet and protect me from wolves—and snakes.”

  I grabbed her hand, a rush of giddiness sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “Are we really to go to Maine?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “We really are. We need to go speak with the reverend, though, but given the talk in the town about his finances, he may be very willing to let you go. I can feel it, Violet, very soon you will belong to no one but yourself.”

  I buried my face in her shoulder and my chest racked with sobs. “I will see Mama and Papa again. Will they even recognize me?”

  Elizabeth hugged me tight. “Of course they will.”

  I drew back. “How will we find them, though?”

  “People would have heard of an Indian couple—seen them.”

  “Opias! Maybe we can send him ahead. He doesn’t always obey me anymore, but it is worth a try.” I looked at the purse in Elizabeth’s hand. “Is this a dream?”

  “A dream come true.”

  ***

  Three weeks later Elizabeth and I stood in town in the early morning ready to board a wagon to Maine.

  “I can’t believe you’re really going,” Betty said, weeping. “I feel like I just got you back.”

  After Betty was fully recovered, we three girls took to sleeping in Mama and Papa’s bed. I felt a great sadness about parting from them, as it was a very cold house I was leaving.

  Abigail dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “I will miss you, but hug Mama Tituba the moment you see her and tell her it is from me—and tell her that I am sorry.”

  Betty nodded, and we fell into a group hug.

  Mistress Parris sniffed. “That’s enough, girls, you’re making a spectacle of yourselves.” She looked down at me. “You will be missed.”

  I half smiled at her attempt at warmth. “You as well.”

  Thomas reached out and patted my shoulder. “Write if you are able.”

  I nodded. “I know not what to expect, or if they even have paper where I’m going. If I am able, I certainly will, but all of you will be in my hearts forever.”

  The wagon driver cleared his throat. “I have a schedule to follow here, folks. Let’s get a move on. I need to clear Gloucester by dark.”

  Elizabeth and I turned to each other, our eyes wide. She reached for my arm in alarm.

  “Clear Gloucester?” I asked. “We won’t be stopping there?”

  “No, there is a barn we can sleep in about four miles past town. I have some supplies for the landowner, and he lets me water and feed the horse and sleep under cover. It won’t always be so hospitable, though. I hope you girls know what you’re in for.”

  “They are tougher than you think,” Thomas said.

  “I’m still not comfortable bringing unaccompanied girls up to Maine, but I can’t turn down the money.”

  I looked at Reverend Parris, who stood a few feet away from the wagon, and he gave me a brief nod in farewell. I suppose I should be grateful that he was allowing me to leave. When Elizabeth showed him the money to pay for my freedom, he was hesitant. Mistress Parris had grown frail over the past year, and he was a man used to owning slaves since his days on his plantation.

  Betty and Abigail had promised they were more than capable and could easily handle the chores, but perhaps there was a beating heart with some feelings in the reverend’s chest after all.

  Or perhaps he was simply moved by the money.

  There were rumors that people were gathering evidence to get the reverend removed from his post. Tithings had dried up by half, but heading to Maine, I knew I might never find out what would become of him and the family.

  I knew Reverend Parris held no sway over me now, though. I wanted to forgive him for what he had put me through, but perhaps my heart was not quite that big. My only regret in leaving was that Betty, Abigail, and Thomas would remain in that cold house while I could finally be my own person.

  The man helped Elizabeth into the cart. He looked at me and then back at Elizabeth. “She your girl?”

  “She is nobody’s girl, and she has the papers to prove it.”

  I unfolded my paper and handed it to the man.

  “Violet North? That’s your name? Funny, we just happen to be going north.”

  “The stars gave me my name.”

  The man’s brow furrowed, and he looked to Elizabeth as if I might be mad. “Well, Violet North, you may come in handy if we run into some Indians along the way. You can talk to ’em.”

  “My skin may be brown, but my people are not from around here—not even close.”

  He looked me up and down and then spit brown tobacco at the ground, just missing his feet. “If you say so, Miss North—I am sorry to hear that, though.”

  “I’m sure my parents were sorry to have to leave their home so many years ago.”

  The driver blinked twice and then drew back, as if he were trying to process what I’d just said. “I was just hoping you could come in handy,” he said finally. “Word from Maine is that things are getting bad.”

  He held out his hand and helped me into the cart.

  “Pay him no mind,” Elizabeth whispered. “Some people think the world is just here in Massachusetts.”

  I nodded. “It is so much bigger than that. Maybe after we find my parents, we can go south. Or to Europe! Why should we stop exploring?”

  Elizabeth placed her hand over her heart. “One step at a time, Violet North. One step at a time. I am putting on a brave face, but a part of me is scared. Salem is all I have known. Not that much of it has been pleasant, but what guarantee do we have that life will get easier where we are going?”

  “There are no guarantees, but our conviction to be our own masters—a servant and an orphan farm girl—heading out into the unknown for a better life, that is all that matters. We didn’t need a book of spells to get out from under the thumbs of all those who oppressed us—we just need to be brave. I cannot promise we will live happily ever after, but we will live on our own terms.”

  Elizabeth and I nestled between boxes and blankets and our few meager belongings. As the cart pulled away, we waved one last time to the town of Salem. It was time for our adventure to begin.

  ***

  Days later, night fell, and Elizabeth and I cast our gaze to the stars lighting up the sky.

  “Which one is your star again?” Elizabeth asked.

  I pointed to the brightest in the heavens. “That one, the North Star. Papa said sailors use it to help navigate their ships.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “And it’s shining down on Mama and Papa right at this very moment.”

  “And Tammy Younger,” Elizabeth said.

  I nodded. “If Tammy is looking up at the stars right now, I hope she can feel their light and I hop
e they can bring her some peace.”

  “Do you think that it’s possible for Tammy to find peace?”

  I sighed. “Probably not.” I thought of the reverend. “It seems like peace just avoids some people whether they be holy men or witches.”

  Elizabeth squeezed my hand. “Hopefully, we will find peace up in Maine—or at least the opportunity to make something of ourselves.”

  “We will weave a new kind of magic, the kind only strong, independent women who are brave enough to travel on their own to Maine can. I thought that book was going to be the answer to our prayers, but the answer was inside us all along—we just had to go to hell and back to figure that out. At least now we can tell our own story.”

  Epilogue

  Three days into our journey, I woke from the bumpy ride, hearing Opias cry out in my head. The road and the wagon had vanished, and I was perched in a tree, looking down at a small log cabin.

  Opias was picking at the note I had tied to his leg.

  “John! John, come quick! There’s a raven out here—it’s in the tree and it’s holding something. No, something is tied to its leg.”

  My heart swelled.

  Mama!

  He had found her. I was afraid he’d just fly off on his own, but he found her.

  Opias flew to Mama’s feet and bowed. Mama bent down and untied the string. She opened the paper and fell to her knees. “John, it’s from Violet! I watched her write her name so many times there is no forgetting it, but I can’t make out the rest of it. John! Get out here!”

  Papa rushed to her side. “From Violet?” He took the note and read it with wide eyes. “She’s coming to find us—she’s free.”

  “Free? How can that be?”

  Opias cawed.

  “It doesn’t say,” Papa whispered.

  Mama reached out and clutched his arm. “Praise be this bird. It must be a forest spirit from home—our real home.” Mama frowned. “This bird found us, but how can Violet find us?”

  Papa looked up at the last stars shining in the brightening sky. “Our Violet will find us. The stars will show her the way.”