Chapter 3 #3
“Of course it matters,” she said. “I bet half the reports you get are simply sour people trying to bring trouble upon their neighbors. That’s real evil, if you ask me.”
“I’m not at liberty to say who submitted the report. All requests for assistance are anonymous.”
Her hands clenched into fists in her lap. “So we’re not even allowed to know who has accused us?”
His mouth pulled in a thin, humorless smile. “Us? We? Do you expect to be charged with your mother? Do you have something to confess?”
She felt the blood drain from her face. “Of course not. I couldn’t work magic if I tried.”
“This says otherwise.” He opened his hand to reveal a small smooth stone, completely unremarkable except for the fact that it was glowing faintly.
“What is that?”
“A witchstone. It glows in the presence of fae blood.”
She looked at him sharply. “You’re fae?”
“You, child. Not me. You have fae blood through your mother. Possibly your father, too. That’s impossible to say.” He cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t know?”
Her stomach gave a nauseating twist. “Your stone lies.”
The people here gossiped about everything. There’d been no hint that anyone in her family was other than human. But then…hadn’t there always been something different about her? Her mother’s sometimes uncanny gift for healing. Her own connection with the woods.
“Neither of you are full fae,” the captain said. “You’re not entirely human either. It’s what makes you capable of using magic.”
She was shaking her head. “My mother’s not fae. She’s not a witch. She’s not evil.”
She didn’t know anyone less evil than Lasandra Yahl.
The captain pocketed his cursed stone and sighed. “The stone indicates the presence of fae blood, which means the potential is there. We must have a trial to settle the truth of the accusations.”
“No.”
The captain’s brows rose. “Excuse me?”
She stood. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword and her lip curled. “This is ridiculous. If there’s a trial, they’ll call my mother a witch no matter what the verdict is. If you’ve already talked to my mother, you know it’s all lies. You can stop this.”
Did he want her to beg? She would do it if she thought it would make a difference.
The captain was looking at her as if he were trying to decide how big of a threat she posed to him.
Ha! She wished she could call down lightning or inflict a case of boils on him.
If she’d ever wanted the power of a witch, it was now.
Voice shaking, she advanced a step in his direction. “You’ll destroy our lives if you let this accusation stand.”
“I’m saving your lives. If your mother is truly a witch, there’s nothing but destruction down the path she has chosen.”
“What she’s chosen is to heal dozens of people. What crime is there in that?”
“Evil seduces in darkness more often than it strikes openly in the light. She may well believe she’s doing God’s work.”
“Who are you to say otherwise?”
His eyes flashed with irritation. “I’ve been appointed by the king to make just such a determination. I judge you innocent of the accusations which have been cast at your mother. As there are no direct accusations against you, you are free to go assuming you have someplace safe to stay tonight.”
“I’ll go home.”
He shook his head. “No, you will not. Not alone. How old are you?”
“Thirteen,” she said, lifting her chin.
Almost. She would be soon. She was old enough to take care of herself.
“You’re too young to stay alone in that house at the edge of the woods. Can you stay with a friend?”
She had no friends, but she couldn’t make herself tell him that.
“Who would take me in now? If you go through with this trial, you will destroy our lives. We’ll be forever marked as witches even if my mother doesn’t receive the brand.” Her voice broke. “Please don’t do this.”
“You can survive the talk.” He stood and started toward the door. She thought about blocking his path, but she could see from his expression that there would be no changing his mind.
Furious, helpless tears gathered in her eyes and embarrassingly started to slide down her cheeks. She swiped them away. “You don’t understand. How could someone like you ever understand?”
He paused to look down at her. His expression didn’t change, but his voice softened.
“I know the danger of witchcraft. I know the power of gossip. My mother lies in an unmarked grave between a murderer and a rapist because she died in her sin, trusting magic over God. You can survive the talk. You can survive a brand even. What you won’t survive is your mother placing her life and yours into the hands of demons.
Good night, Miss Yahl. I’ll have my men find a bed for you. ”
The captain rapped twice on the door. The lock turned and he was gone before she’d managed to open her mouth again. When the door closed, she fell on it, pounding until her fists began to bleed. No one came.
There was no sign that anyone heard her at all. She put her back to the door and slid down to the floor.
A trial.
She dropped her face into her hands and wept.