Chapter 6 Morgaine
MORGAINE
The only good witch is a dead witch? That was what the evil cockroach of a man had said.
I had heard enough. I’d flown through the night, my mind running through everything I needed to do. I had to warn Lavender and Sal, help them to pack up the cottage, hide the Book of Enchantments and get Rosemary somewhere safe—far away from the Royal Forests.
Or perhaps they would be safer staying put, hiding out in the cottage, if I left? I could lead the sheriff and his men away, give the coven a chance.
A white-hot rage bubbled in my veins, and not for the first time.
Why could my kind never live in peace? All we had done was cure their ills, bring their children safely into the world, protect their livestock from sickness, and give them a little help finding love and luck.
Why were we always the first port of call when the commonfolk needed someone to blame for their misfortune?
I had been hunted and persecuted over and over, for five hundred years, and I was angry.
I stood at the threshold of my sisters’ bedroom, watching them sleep peacefully for what could be the last time.
I couldn’t bring myself to wake them, so I lit a candle and set about quietly making a cauldron of tea and checking the protection charms and enchantments I had placed around the cottage.
Kipper kept me company while I worked, prowling around the cottage and mewing piteously until I tossed him a piece of dried chicken skin from his treat jar.
Rose was the first to wake, just before dawn when the sky remained dark with streaks of red and orange.
She swept the floors as I made the porridge, humming a tune she’d picked up from somewhere.
It was a pretty little song, especially in her sweet voice, and I found myself swallowing hard and blinking away the stinging in my eyes at the thought of leaving her.
I had told myself time and again not to let these witches into my heart, but they’d managed to burrow their way in despite my best efforts.
Once Lavender and Sal were awake, I sat them all down and explained everything; what had happened at the market, and what I had heard at the castle.
“Pah, it’s utter nonsense,” Sal said, gruffly. “The boy is just trying to impress the prince with all this tough talk. I’ll bet nothing changes around here and it’s nought but bluff and bluster. We’ve seen this all before.”
Lavender looked less convinced. She wrung her hands in her lap. “I heard he’s been brought over from abroad by Prince John because he’s a champion witch hunter and no one can best him. If he’s that good, and he’s trying to impress, how long will it be until someone is hanged? Witch or not?”
I nodded. “Good point, Lavender. It isn’t certain that the sheriff will correctly identify us as witches, but he’s known for capturing and killing women accused of witchcraft, so the risk of someone being killed is high.
Especially in these first days and weeks.
My fear,” I pressed a hand to my heart and took a deep breath.
“Is that he already suspects me after our interaction at the market. He didn’t appear to separate the innocent comfort of good luck charms from the magic of talismans, and that is my concern.
If the folklore where he comes from is different, or if his high success rate in catching witches is actually due to a no tolerance stance on superstitions, then we could be in real danger.
” I sighed and rubbed a hand over my face.
“I am sorry. I never meant to put any of you in harm’s way. ”
Lavender reached over and put a hand on top of mine. “We all knew this life was a risky one, and yet we still chose it. You’re not to blame for any of this.”
Sal snorted. “We no more chose this life than the magic chose us. It simply is what it is.”
I nodded, but I had known many witches over the centuries who had chosen to reject their power and live a quiet, simple life. Out of fear, maybe, or self-preservation. The ones who accepted the calling were, to me, the bravest of us.
“What will we do?” Rosemary asked, voice wobbling. “And what will happen to Kipper?” She sat cross-legged on the floor with the black cat curled tightly in her lap, stroking his sleek coat with her fingertips.
“I—” My words died in my throat as the eerily familiar sound of thundering horse hooves reached my ears.
I felt as though a bucket of icy water had been thrown in my face.
“Go!” I stood and gestured for Rosemary to hide in the bedroom while Sal, Lavender and I dealt with whatever this was.
There was a trapdoor under a rug beneath one of the beds, big enough for all of our most precious magical artifacts and one person to hide. I knew she’d be safe there.
I snatched up my basket from beside the door and stepped outside, looking for all the world like a woman off to harvest her vegetable garden. Except our vegetable garden had already been picked over and even the flower beds Sal tended looked sparse.
A chill ran through the early spring air, clear and crisp, even as the sun shone weakly in the blue-grey sky. The scent of pine and earth filled my nostrils, grounding me.
The first horse to stop outside our rickety gate I would have recognised anywhere.
The majestic black stallion I’d seen galloping down the forest road.
And its rider: the dark, curly-haired High Sheriff.
Not far behind him, three other guards arrived just moments later.
One with tanned skin and russet hair tied all three horses to the hitching post while the other two began to slowly walk around the perimeter, keen eyes taking in everything.
The sheriff approached the gate and said in his smooth, accented English, “Good morning, Miss Laffay. How are you this fine day?”
I clenched my fists to keep my hands from trembling. “Quite well, sir. And yourself?” I walked over to a rosebush and pretended to check it, knowing there were no rosebuds to be seen.
“I am well indeed, thank you for asking. Ignore my men, the prince insists I am attended at all times.” He waved at them as if to dismiss them, but none of the three men stopped what they were doing.
“I have come for a quick chat after our meeting yesterday at the market. I fear I may have offended you. I had to ask around to get your address—it is rather remote out here by the forest, isn’t it? ”
I heard the underlying message in his words.
He thought we were hiding out here, away from the rest of the village.
I had been right, he did suspect me of witchcraft.
I had to protect my sisters. I would be fine if the sheriff took me in—I was immortal, after all.
But the thought of Lavender, Sal, or sweet little Rosemary being held in the castle dungeons, tortured for information, and executed, felt like a punch to the gut.
I schooled my features and forced my tone to remain measured. “We like our space, and it’s only a short ride to town, as you’ll have discovered.”
The sheriff chuckled; made all the more sinister by the light, jovial sound and relaxed way he pushed his hair out of his eyes and scratched his stubbly jaw. This man was not afraid of witches; he’d killed too many of us for that.
He reached a hand towards the garden gate. “May I?”
I hesitated, but only for a second. “Be my guest.” I trusted Sal and Lavender to have secreted all of our remaining craftwares away while I distracted the uniformed men.
At the same time the High Sheriff opened the gate and stepped through, I heard the front door of the cottage creak open. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lavender on the threshold, wrapping a knitted shawl around herself. I clenched my jaw to keep from barking at her to go back inside.
“Good morning,” the sheriff called out to her, a smile I knew to be fake smoothing his features and making him look younger, almost boyish. “You must be Miss Laffay’s sister.”
“Good day, sir,” Lavender replied, her voice sounding strained to my ears. I only hoped the sheriff couldn’t hear the stress fractures in her tone. She looked to me then. “Morgaine?”
I ignored her. I’d noticed the sheriff had left the gate open and two of his lackeys had followed him into the garden, taking up position behind him among the rockery. My knuckles turned bone white on the handle of my basket, a spark of lightning coursing through my blood.
“I’m afraid we were just on our way to the forest to forage for berries, so we’ll be going now.
” I made as if to leave, forcing the sheriff and his men to turn and face me as I put a hand on the gate.
“I appreciate you taking the time to come here and apologise, Sheriff, it truly wasn’t necessary. No offence was taken.”
He gave me an indulgent smile, eyes cast down for a few seconds until he looked up at me through his long, dark lashes and said, “I just need a moment more of your time, Miss Laffay. Why don’t we step inside? Perhaps your sister could brew a pot of tea for us all? This won’t take long.”
Sal appeared beside Lavender now, her expression deliberately blank, but I saw the tension in her shoulders.
I tried to shake my head but I could hardly move, so I tried to convey my meaning with my eyes.
“Sal, take Lavender foraging in the woods while I have a private conversation with the High Sheriff.”
His next words turned my blood to ice. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.
This concerns all three of you. Let’s not make this any more difficult than it needs to be.
” His expression was still easy and casual, something about it made my skin crawl.
“If you cooperate this will go as smoothly as possible. Now, Miss Laffay, how about that tea?” He held up an arm, gesturing for us to go inside.
I hesitated, my mind scrambling for the best way to escape what was about to happen.
As I saw it, I wasn’t getting out of this, but with any luck I could give my sisters enough time to get far away and rebuild their coven somewhere safe.
“Sheriff,” I began, my heart thundering in my chest. “Whatever this is, it doesn’t concern my sisters. Please, let them go inside and we can talk out here.”
He let out a low chuckle that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “I don’t think so. Perhaps we should take this conversation somewhere a little more formal? Say, the castle dungeons?”
The sheriff only smiled, eyes glittering darkly as the whole world came crashing down around me—silent but catastrophic. I opened my mouth, not knowing what would come out.
In a streak of blonde hair and unintelligible screaming, Rosemary burst out of cottage. She sprinted at the nearest guard—a tall, bearded man, who baulked as the whirlwind launched herself at him, a shrill “No!” erupting from her.
In a flash, the guard raised a hand and deflected Rosemary’s attack, knocking her to the side.
She was thrown to the ground, and a sickening crack echoed through the silence as her head connected with a large rock.
All the air was knocked from my lungs as I looked down at Rose’s crumpled figure.
The other two guards lunged for Sal and Lavender, who had both flown at Rosemary and the wide-eyed guard.
I couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in my ears, but the contorted faces of my sisters as they were bound and forced to their knees told me they were screaming.
They mouthed Rosemary’s name over and over.
I wanted to join them, wanted to fall to my knees and howl into the wind, but I felt frozen, paralysed.
A hand gripped my upper arm like a vice and the ice finally cracked.
I lashed out, palm pressed to the sheriff’s chest, fingers splayed.
All of my grief and rage and pain pouring out of me into the man responsible for this.
The man who had brought his witch hunters here and murdered my youngest sister, my sweet Rosemary.
I screamed as my power flooded out of me and into his body, crackling like lightning under my skin. The magic travelled through him, found his heart and stopped it dead. He collapsed to the floor, breaking our contact, a look of surprise on his slackening features.
The third guard took one look at what I had done and fled, unhitching the horses and climbing into the saddle, yelling at his comrades to hurry.
They practically ran to their mounts, dragging Sal and Lavender and forcing them up into the saddles before leading them away as fast as their legs could carry them.
Afraid I would turn my magic on them next.
They needn’t have worried. I didn’t care about anything but saving little Rosemary.
I sprinted inside the cottage, ripped the rug aside and lifted the trapdoor to the hidden compartment where we kept our most precious, forbidden books.
I pulled the Book of Enchantments out of its hiding place and ran back outside, dropping to my knees in the dirt, beside Rose.
I threw the book open and turned its pages until I found what I was looking for.
The life bond enchantment. The only way to bring Rose back to me from the brink of death.
I pressed my hands to Rose’s chest, feeling her cool skin beneath my shaking fingertips, and chanted the words written in the book.
I shouted them until my throat turned raw and I could only whisper them.
Still I chanted, willing Rose’s heart to beat.
Giving my own life force to revive her, bonding us together for eternity.
I collapsed onto the ground, my energy completely drained, my heart and soul torn to shreds. I leaned over Rosemary’s small frame, my tears soaking into her filthy gown. She lay perfectly still. The spell had not worked.
I couldn’t leave Rosemary out here in the cold, alone and afraid. I went inside and took two blankets from beside the fireplace. As I opened the door to head back outside, something dark and quick-footed darted out ahead of me. Kipper. He ran over to Rose’s unmoving form, mewling piteously.
Girl. Hurt. Kipper’s distress bled into my consciousness unbidden.
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks as I knelt beside Rosemary and draped one of the blankets over her, tucking the other under her head as a pillow.
I smoothed her hair out, brushing the strands away from her face.
She looked oddly peaceful, despite the blood drying on her temple. I pulled the blanket up to her chin.
There was nothing else to be done.
Unable to bear the pain in my chest at the sight of her, I transformed, becoming a red squirrel, and leapt onto the fence, darting away into the forest and running as far and as fast as my feet could carry me.