Invisible World (15 page)

B
RONWYN AND I LOWERED OURSELVES CLOSER TO THE SHIP.
We stayed above deck, though, and once more hovered over the writhing figure of Evil Bronwyn. A familiar low growl immediately filled the air. The black hound's yellow eyes blazed. Its fangs were bared. Good Bronwyn and I grabbed for each other's hand.

Cautiously, with our eyes on the snarling dog, Good Bronwyn and I approached the thing that had taken over her form.

“I do look the worse for wear,” Bronwyn commented wryly.

“You've looked better,” I agreed. “How can we fight this thing, Bronwyn? Is it possible?”

“If you give in to fear, we can't win,” she said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I met one of your friends while I was on the astral plane. I have contacted her.”

“Who?” I asked, but before I could answer, sparks like a meteor shower crossed the sky. Aunty Honey — dressed regally as Mother Kadiatu — was suddenly hovering beside me. The sight of my old teacher nearly brought tears of happiness to my eyes. I knew how powerful her magic would be.

“I have the potent magic from my home in Sierra Leone, the secret words to banish the bad juju,” Mother Kadiatu said.

“And I have the women's words from my village, the ones that will banish a devil,” Bronwyn assured me.

“Hold tight to the talisman Aakif gave to you, Betty-Fatu. Whatever happens, don't let the demon take it from you,” Mother Kadiatu insisted. “You are a strong girl who floated the wide ocean in a barrel. Remember who you are.”

The black dog growled at us, and made Evil Bronwyn aware of our presence. Evil Bronwyn sat up, glaring intensely at us with a look of pure hatred. Though we were on the astral plane, it could tell we were there.

I clutched the bead at my neck as Mother Kadiatu began chanting words of goodness and words of power in her native tongue. Good Bronwyn spoke words of magic in her ancient Scottish.

Evil Bronwyn gripped its ears, cringing. Doubling over in pain, purple-black clouds rose around it. Evil Bronwyn's skull cracked open from the forehead to the base of its skull. Bronwyn's body fell like a robe as a hideous fiend of immense height, with veined skin of deep purple, emerged, reminding me of a skinned animal. It spread immense wings of the same purple, beating the air in a triumphant gesture.

Now it was able to see us hovering above. Staring up, it let out a scream so high-pitched it seared through me like a flame. I saw that the black dog had fallen to the ground, unconscious. “Serve me!” the evil creature bellowed. “Serve me!”

With a wide sweep of its arm, the demon pulled me down into its crushing grip. Good Bronwyn and Mother Kadiatu threw themselves onto its arm, but they were helpless against it.

“Serve me!” it screamed into my face.

Aakif ran up the gangplank, my bag in hand. “Betty-Fatu?” he called, looking around frantically for me. He could not see any of us.

He took Tituba's book of spells from the bag. “I have your book,” he shouted, sensing the tumult in the air.

I wanted to call to him but the demon was holding me in its crushing grip. Mother Kadiatu and Good Bronwyn came down beside Aakif. Mother Kadiatu took the book from his hands. “What page?” she shouted.

“Dirt” was all I could manage to reply, but she understood and found it quickly. Mother Kadiatu handed it to Aakif, though to him it seemed to float into his hands.

He understood and began to read the words.

The demon shook me and jostled the blue bead from beneath my collar. At the sight of it, the demon recoiled, but didn't drop me.

Mother Kadiatu and Good Bronwyn resumed their chant. Aakif read from Tituba's book of spells in a loud, impassioned voice.

The demon threw me to the ship's floor and strode toward Aakif, its eyes glowering. Rising to my feet, I ran to Aakif's side. This creature could not get hold of him.

Suddenly, the demon fell to its knees, clutching at its head. Down on the road, lights were glowing as wagons filled with praying people pulled up beside the shipyard. The lights were from lanterns and candles, and I could hear the people chanting over and over in a group voice that reverberated through the air: “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil; lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.”

Mary Carmen ran up the gangplank just as the demon knocked Aakif down with one powerful swat of its hand. She seemed to know what was happening and — while still saying the end of the Lord's Prayer — she poured a circle of the holy water around Aakif.

The demon could not cross the circle and, shrieking in rage, turned on Mary Carmen.

“Run, Mary Carmen!” I shouted, momentarily forgetting that she couldn't hear me on the astral plane.

Then I saw that Mary Carmen was not alone. Hovering above her on the astral plane was a beautiful woman dressed in a nun's habit. It had to be Teresa of Avila.

Saint Teresa locked eyes with the demon and then threw her hands to the heavens, shouting words I didn't understand.

 

V
EHUIAH

J
ELIEL

S
ITAEL

E
LEMIAH

M
AHASIAH

L
ELAHEL

 

The astral plane flashed with light as one by one, tall, winged, glowing angels appeared. Their light was so blinding that the demon covered its eyes.

My ears filled with a vibrating hum that seemed to come from the angels and mixed with the prayers. “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil….”

Saint Teresa continued:

 

H
AHAIAH

M
EBAHEL

N
ELCHAEL

Y
ERATEL

M
ANAKEL

H
AZIEL

 

Her voice rose even louder, awe-filled and magnificent. “I call down the seventy-two angels by their names as written in the mystic book of Kabbalah.”

A heavenly host of the most beautiful creatures I have ever witnessed appeared. When the last, the one she named Haziel, came, he stepped forward holding a shining sword. Before the demon could react, the angel Haziel swept the demon above his head and flung him into the sky. Images of the three attendant witches flew up in its wake, as though they were a part of the demon's body.

The majestic angels blinked away in the same order they had appeared.

Mary Carmen ran back to the gangplank and waved her arms to the praying people. “The evil has been defeated!” she shouted to them.

My heart burst with ecstatic happiness — but it was brief.

Bronwyn's body lay sprawled on the deck of the ship, lifeless. A deep gash bled where the demon had split her skull.

Good Bronwyn looked down on her ruined body. “I don't want to live up here on the astral plane,” she murmured. “I've been here too long already.”

Mary Carmen rushed to the supine body and placed her hands on Bronwyn's skull. With a soft blue light radiating from her palms, she held tight to Bronwyn. The bleeding stopped, but the body didn't stir.

Without speaking, Mother Kadiatu, Good Bronwyn, and Saint Teresa held hands. I joined them too. I saw an energy flowing across the four of us. It was a deep blue.

Below us, Mary Carmen raised her left arm and, like lightning is attracted to a tree, our energy jumped to her hand in an azure stream. The blue suffused Mary Carmen and passed out of her right hand into Bronwyn's body.

Bronwyn's eyes opened wide and then shut again.

Exhausted, Mary Carmen wilted to the ship's deck.

Off in the distance, I heard the steady beat of a drum.

D
AWN LIGHT FILLED MY PRISON CELL AS I AWOKE
, back in my body. “Don't let it have been a dream,” I whispered. It had been so real, and yet I couldn't be absolutely certain. Glancing to the corner where I kept my jar of honey and other supplies, my heart sank when I saw that it was still there. How did it get from the ship back into my cell?

“Thank the heavens.” Turning toward the voice, I saw Tituba sitting beside me. “You have been unconscious for two days,” she told me.

“Two days?”

“Yes, my friend, two days. You have had visitors too.”

I sat up. “Who?”

“Aakif and Mary Carmen.”

“Did they bring my bag?” I asked excitedly.

“Yes, we brought it!” Aakif said from the doorway. Before I could rise, he was at my side and we were hugging each other tightly. Mary Carmen was right behind him and we too embraced.

“You will never believe who we've seen!” Aakif said.

“Van Leeuwenhoek heard what was happening in town and came to talk to Reverend Parris. We heard he was at the parsonage and sought him out early this morning,” Mary Carmen revealed.

“And Governor Phips has moved to terminate the trials,” Aakif went on. “It seems that someone has charged the governor's own wife as a witch!”

“Everyone is free?” I asked as Mr. Van Leeuwenhoek entered the cell.

“I'm afraid not,” Van Leeuwenhoek said. “No one can leave until they pay for their board in this horrible place. I find that unbelievable. But you are free. I have paid your way out of this horror.”

“You are too kind to me, but I thank you with all my heart,” I told him sincerely.

“It is my pleasure to help such a brave young woman,” Van Leeuwenhoek replied.

Turning to Tituba, I smiled. “We can go,” I told her. “As soon as Reverend Parris pays your board, you can leave. You'll be back with Violet and John Indian.”

Tituba shook her head unhappily. “John was here this morning. Samuel Parris will not pay. He thinks I've disgraced his family by speaking the truth. John has not the money, either. Parris says whoever wants to buy me as a slave is welcome and must also pay to get me out of here.”

“I will pay,” Van Leeuwenhoek offered.

“Thank you, sir. You will find me a hardworking slave,” Tituba said emotionally.

“You will not be my slave,” Van Leeuwenhoek answered.

Tituba gasped with delight. “It is too much to ask!” she cried.

“Not at all,” he answered, with a gracious bow.

 

For the first time in months, I was out in the sunshine in front of the prison. Van Leeuwenhoek, Mary Carmen, and Aakif were beside me.

Looking debilitated and stooped, several more women left the prison, squinting against the bright light, surrounded by their families. They came in small groups, not jubilant, but weary and eager to get home.

Tituba had returned to the parsonage to collect her things and rejoin her family. They all assured me that what occurred the night before had been no dream. Bronwyn was resting in Aakif's room at the Osborne home.

“I have news,” Aakif said.

“What?” I asked. “Is it good or bad news?”

“Excellent news.”

“Tell us,” Van Leeuwenhoek prodded.

“Andrew Osborne lowered the price for my freedom,” Aakif reported. “He knows what it is to be a slave. I had enough to buy my freedom, and in fact, I paid him this morning. I am a free man.”

I gasped and we stared at each other, not quite believing it. “You did it,” I whispered.

He nodded as his expression changed from one of disbelief to that of glowing happiness.

“You did it!” I shouted as he swept me into his arms and spun me in a circle. When we stopped spinning, I held on to him so tightly. He was free! I was free! There were tears in both our eyes.

“It is a great day, indeed!” Mary Carmen cried happily.

When we finally settled down, Van Leeuwenhoek had a question, which he addressed to Mary Carmen. Though we'd told him all that had happened, he was still puzzled on one point. “Isn't Saint Teresa of Avila considered a Catholic mystic?”

“She is,” Mary Carmen confirmed.

“Then how did she come to call on the seventy-two angels by name? You said she named something called the Kabbalah, a Jewish book, as her source.”

“Saint Teresa's grandfather was Jewish, but forced to convert to Catholicism by the Spanish Inquisition. But Saint Teresa's father and grandfather studied the mystic Kabbalah in secret. They allowed her to study it also,” Mary Carmen explained.

“What shall we do now?” I asked. I certainly was not going back to that parsonage — not ever. And what was left for me now in England with Kate and Father gone?

Before anyone could answer my question, the young Indian native who had been with her father on the ship to Salem approached our group. “Greetings,” she said, speaking to me. “I am Winun'na. We have seen each other but we have never been introduced.”

“Hello, Winun'na. I am called Betty-Fatu. I am pleased to meet you,” I replied. I introduced Van Leeuwenhoek, Aakif, and Mary Carmen. “I remember you well. I saw you and your father at my trial,” I added.

Winun'na nodded gravely. “It is a bad business. My father is the holy medicine man of our tribe, which you whites call the Massachuset. As a shaman, he knows that the whites think we worship Matchitehew — the evil one. We do not, of course — but it helps him feel the sorrow of what you are going through. It is true pain to be so misunderstood.”

“That is kind of you to say,” I replied.

“My father is greatly distressed by what has happened here and has been imploring the Great Spirit to aid you. Last night, he sensed a great war between good and evil was being waged. He banged the drum and sang to the Great Spirit all the night through. He sent me here this day to offer his help.”

I took her hand as I spoke. “Something very great has occurred. Tell him we thank him greatly for his help. Last night, a terrible evil was driven away and I am sure — certain — that his chanting and drumming enabled us to succeed.”

Winun'na shut her eyes, genuinely moved. “It will mean so much to him.” I told her too that the prison was being opened and the trials disbanded.

“The people of my village are disbanding as well,” Winun'na revealed. “It is getting too crowded since we have been pushed off much of our land. Some of us younger Massachuset are heading north, to a territory on the shore of the very large Lake of Shining Waters. The Huron and Iroquois People are there now but there is much land and we think we can peacefully make a place for ourselves. We will have no shaman, though, because the People need my father here.”

Mary Carmen looked to me and her eyes were bright. I could have read her mind even if I hadn't possessed my special abilities.
Why not go with them?

Aakif also seemed excited, sensing what we were thinking. He caught my eyes and nodded.

“Mary Carmen is a healer and I know of roots and herbs that heal. Aakif is a shipbuilder. You will need his skills if you are to live on the banks of a great lake. Would you allow us to come with you?”

“You are all welcome to join us,” Winun'na said. “We are a small group and can use the help of skilled workers.”

“I have my work, of course, and cannot join you,” Van Leeuwenhoek said, “but it sounds like a grand and worthwhile venture to me.”

John Indian came with the wagon. Tituba and Violet sat beside him. I spied Bronwyn wrapped in a blanket in the cart. We all surrounded the back of the wagon and I climbed in beside her. “How do you feel?”

Bronwyn clutched her head and I winced at the scar running up her forehead. “I'll be better soon, pet. Don't worry about me. The spirit is strong if the flesh is weak still. I'm a tough old bird.”

From the shipyard, a seagull squawked as if on cue, which made all of us laugh. We told Tituba, John Indian, and Bronwyn what we were thinking. “Let's do it.” Tituba was the first to agree.

“‘O brave new world that has such people in it,'” Bronwyn quoted from
The Tempest
.

Aakif took my hand and I leaned against him. After all we had faced, we knew that whatever challenges the future held, we would be equal to them.

I no longer wanted to be a witch, and I didn't even want to live alone using my powers to make money in frivolous ways. Like Mother Kadiatu, like Bronwyn, like Mary Carmen, I wanted to be of help, to use what I could do to make things better.

Aakif would be with me and we would be all right. The words of the song I'd learned just over a year ago came to me.

“Tell your people we will be with them,” I told Winun'na. “This world has grown too small for all of us. We're going to make a new one.”